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chukys-mouthguard · 18 days

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Kinda Tempting pt. 2

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader x mat barzal

Genre: fluff, angst, little bit of smut

Note: i tried my best to refer to rempe as matthew to limit possible confusion of the guys…this was rewritten like 6 times, not entirely happy with it but I know y’all have been asking for part 2 😅🫶🏼 tried to make it so this could continue and we could see both sides of this story

Part 1

“Mmmmm.”

The sun was shining just enough in your eyes to wake you up, immediately making you regret not remembering to close the blinds before going to bed. Though you were a bit preoccupied to remember, chuckling to yourself as you looked at the 6 foot 8 sleeping giant next to you. Now taking notice of his cut up knuckles from yesterday's fight, lightly tracing your fingers over the marks. Earning a soft groan from Matthew.

His eyes fluttering open as he smiled at you, “good morning sunshine,” he stretched as he rolled onto his side, “good morning to you pretty lady.” A smile now on his face as he curled up with his pillow, looking up at you and studying the conflicted look on your face.

“What is it?”

Shaking your head you got up with a sigh, searching for a hoodie to throw on before rejoining him on your bed. “I’m just, thinking.”

“Let me guess….you regret last night?” His words came out with a playful tone, though his face showed a bit of sadness as he sat up and rested his back against your headboard. “Look if I convinced you to do something you didn’t really want to do, and I stirred up a bunch of shit now for you to deal with. I’m sorry, I truly didn’t mean for any of that to happen I just-“

“No, that’s the thing. I don’t regret it. But I feel bad for not regretting it. Am I a shitty person for that?” Matthew laughed along with you as he shrugged.

“I mean, I don’t think you’re a shitty person. I think you’re just, conflicted. I think you’re an amazing girl who is being strung along by her boyfriend, not knowing what the fuck the deal is. Waiting for the day he somehow magically turns back into the guy she fell in love with. But I don’t think that day is coming unfortunately.”

His fingers now entangling with yours as you took in his thoughts.

“I think, you’re unsure what to do. I think your head is telling you one thing, and your heart another. Personally, I don’t know the reason why you won’t leave him. And maybe that’s not for me to know. But I think you deserve so much more. I think you could do better, be happier, be with someone who isn’t gonna be another Mat Barzal.”

“And that’s you?”

Your tone catching him off guard a bit, but he laughed it off. “I’m not saying that, and I’m not saying any of this to try and get you to leave Mat for me. I’m sure you might be thinking I’m that kind of guy right now, especially after last night, but I’m not. I simply am saying this as a guy who thinks it would be an honor to call you his girlfriend. A guy who would take every opportunity to show you how amazing you are. To never make you feel the way you do right now being with Mat. But by no means am I trying to get you to leave him for me. Because I don’t think I need to convince you to do that.”

Just as you opened your mouth to challenge his cocky statement, your phone buzzed on the bed.

“It’s him…” Matthew gesturing for you to answer the call as he got up to get dressed.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sorry about yesterday. Just, wasn’t a good day. You know how it is. But um, I kind of realize I’ve not been the best boyfriend lately. And, I feel like I need to make it up to you.”

While you wanted to believe that he was being genuine, you’d heard this from Mat before. He’d apologize, be a better guy for a few days, then things would end up right back where they were.

“Let’s go grab lunch, maybe do some shopping. Spend the day together and make up for the last few months we’ve been apart.”

Matthew was mouthing the words go for it, and you rolled your eyes at him. His words still on your mind, not sure why you were still going to entertain fixing things with Mat if you just fucked another guy behind his back.

“Um, yeah sure.”

“Yeah? Great! I’ll be at your place in like an hour?”

“Sounds good. See you soon.”

Hanging up the phone you flopped down on your bed face first. “What’s the matter now?” Matthew laughed as he belly flopped onto the bed next to you, trying his best to make you laugh or smile.

“What the fuck do I do? He wants to make up for being absent and everything, and you’re over here telling me I shouldn’t entertain it!”

Matthew put his hands up in protest, “now wait a minute i didn’t say don’t entertain it. I simply am saying to be cautious and look out for yourself. Because, after the way you two interacted yesterday, I just think he’s full of it. But I could be wrong, and this lunch date could change everything. I don’t know. I simply am speaking as someone who cares. I want the best for you, and if that’s him, then great. I’ll still be here for the days you need to cry, or vent, or need to have some fun.”

He shot you a wink as his signature cocky grin found its place on his lips and you shook your head. “Matthew Rempe, you are not going to be some side piece for me while I figure out my relationship.” Standing up you headed to the bathroom to start getting ready for your date with Mat.

“And why’s that?” He called after you, leaning in the doorway as you pulled your makeup bag out from under your sink. “Because, you’re a human being, you have feelings. And I’m not just going to use you like that.”

He stepped in front of you, stealing your attention as he brushed your hair from your face. “But what if I’m okay with it?”

“You are really something else you know that?”

He shrugged as he stole a kiss from your lips.

“Well you make it really easy for me to make bad decisions.” He winked at you, stealing another kiss before heading to the kitchen to grab his keys.

“So you’re saying this is a bad decision?” You gestured to the two of you with your makeup brush. “Maybe, call me after lunch and tell me if you think so.”

He closed the door behind him and you let out a groan, not enjoying the position you were in at all. On one hand, your boyfriend of 2 years who was your first love. But who has checked out and left you feeling like it was time to walk away. Then on the flip side, a younger and wild Rempe, who knew what he wanted and didn’t hide it. Which you appreciated, and found quite hot. But how do you just up and leave Mat, and did you want to? None of this was fair to him, but then again, the way you’ve been strung along all these months not knowing where the two of you stand wasn’t fair either.

“Hey babe.”

Mat smiled at you as you climbed into his BMW. “Hey,” You flashed a smile as he leaned in to give you a kiss, “don’t you look handsome.”

He shrugged, “wanted to look good for you I guess. So what are we feeling, Italian? Mexican? A burger and fries?” Buckling your seatbelt you told yourself to listen to Matthew, let this date happen how it’s meant to happen. Don’t force anything one way or the other, let whatever the hell is gonna happen, happen. “Well we both know you’re always in the mood for Italian.”

“I’m a sucker for the carbs what can i say. Plus a glass of wine doesn’t sound too awful right now.”

His hand resting on the gear shift as he pulled out of the parking garage. The drive to the restaurant quiet, the result of you two being apart for so long that it was almost awkward between you two.

So far, your brain was telling you this wasn’t a good sign that this date was magically going to fix things.

“So, how late did you stay up doing your stuff last night?” Mat asking from behind his wine glass as you chuckled. “Um my job? I was up pretty late doing that stuff. Couldn’t even tell you how long I edited for last night.” Your voice trailing off as you sipped your wine, your palms sweaty just thinking about the secret you were hiding from him.

“I believe it, probably had a ton of footage to sift through.” He didn’t even make eye content when talking to you, glancing over the menu as you rested your chin on your fist with a sigh. “Plus I had extra clips to edit of Matt Rempe since it was his debut and everything.”

Mat laughed as he nodded, “Yeah that kid is something else. A fight his first shift, probably gonna end up with more penalty minutes than minutes on ice this season. That is if he lasts.” You were a bit surprised by his comments, Mat never the type to shit talk other guys in the league. “Hey, he earned his spot yesterday and he’s gonna keep working hard to stay up here. He’s a great guy. I personally think you’d like him, if you got to know him versus judging him…”

Your voice trailed off as your server brought your food. “Okay, no more hockey talk. Where shall I take you shopping? Need a new purse? Some shoes? I know you never turn down shoes.” He smiled at you as he wiped the pasta sauce from his chin.

This was always Mat’s way of fixing things. He loved to shop, both for you and for himself. So anytime he felt like he’d fucked up, his solution was to buy you everything you wanted without checking a price tag. But the material things never actually addressing the root of the problem that was there to begin with. Simply covering it up with new shoes, a new jacket, or purse.

“I don’t care, wherever is fine. Nothing I really need if I’m honest.” Your tone caught him off guard, at this point you were over this lunch date. Wishing you hadn’t even thought for a second that things were going to get better. “Okay, do you want to just go home and watch a movie or something? Since shopping doesn’t seem to be a good idea today.”

“Sure, a movie is fine.”

Mat decided for the two of you to head back to his place, due to traffic being crazy heading in the direction of your apartment. The car ride once again quiet, Mat a bit unsure what to talk about. He’d offended you when talking about your job and judging Rempe. Shopping normally be something you liked to do with him, but that too seemed to be a bad idea.

It wasn’t that he was on oblivious to the fact that things between you two were different, he just didn’t know why or how he could fix it. Feeling like it was a battle he’d already lost in your eyes. And no matter how hard he might try to prove to you he was still willing to fight, you’d just blow him off. Already moved on in your mind.

“Wow, someone has been decorating. Who helped you with this?” You looked around his apartment shocked, never knowing Mat to be a good decorator. “Well thanks, I didn’t think I sucked that bad at interior design. I maybe had a little help, but for the most part it was all me.”

He smiled proud as he grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“So, what movie are you thinking?”

Taking your glass you shrugged, “surprise me? You’re better at picking movies than me.” Mat laughing as he placed the stopper back in the bottle. “This is true, let me take a quick look at our options.”

Subconsciously you had practically chugged your glass of wine, your nerves rampant as you didn’t know what the hell you were doing. Clearly you were unhappy, this date not going at all how you hoped. You still were holding out hope, but the more and more Mat didn’t talk to you or kept conversation short, the more your thoughts were racing.

“Do you still love me?”

Mat snapped his head to you, almost laughing as he couldn’t believe you’d asked such a thing. Almost shocked a bit yourself at your boldness to just come right out and say that. “Um, yes? Why would you even ask that?”

“When’s the last time you said it? Do you realize what I’ve been going through these last few months? Hell let’s just say the whole last year. I barely see you! We barely speak, and lord knows we haven’t had sex in months. Not that it matters that much, but we both know you like sex. So the fact we haven’t even done that…Like, are you just waiting for me to breakup with you? Or am I supposed to just wait around for you to start acting like the man I fell in love with again?”

He set his wine glass down, trying to figure out what to say. Feeling like no matter what he said at this point it would probably come across like an excuse.

“I, I don’t know what to say. Because, I don’t have a good enough reason for why I’ve been acting this way. And, you’re right. You don’t deserve this. Maybe, you should’ve given up on me a long time ago. I don’t know y/n, I can’t lie to you and say I don’t notice that it’s different. But I also don’t know what to do to fix it.”

“Kiss me! Hold me! Tell me you love me. Get excited to see me after months of hardly talking. There’s plenty of things you could do. The answer isn’t to treat me to lunch and take me shopping. I don’t need food and clothes, I need my boyfriend. I need to feel like you love me. Like you miss me.”

“And you don’t think I feel that way?”

His tone coming out hurt, his hands running through his hair as he tried to think of a response.

“Notice how you haven’t said it once. Even when I point it out, you say yes and agree, but you haven’t once said it to me. And that speaks volumes.”

Grabbing your phone and purse you headed for the door, Mat quickly running to stop you. “Now wait a minute, I get I’ve been absent and not the same guy I used to be, but I’ve never been the type to let you walk out like this. Please, talk to me. Help me understand what you need from me so we can make things work.”

Retreating to the couch, you sat down with a sigh, not sure what to say. “Mat, I shouldn’t have to tell you what I need. You’re my boyfriend. We’ve been together long enough that you should know me better than this. If you’ve fallen out of love with me, then tell me. If you’ve been seeing other people, then tell me. But please don’t keep stringing me along when it’s clear this isn’t working for us right now.”

He looked at you shocked, the assumption he was cheating hitting him like a train in his chest. “You’re joking? You think I’ve been cheating on you? Please y/n, that’s ridiculous. Where is all of this coming from? You say that I’m no longer the guy you fell in love with, but you’re starting to give me the same energy. I’ve never heard you talk like this…maybe you’re the one seeing other people?”

Stopping in your tracks you looked at him shocked, a slight chuckle leaving his lips as you tried to formulate a thought. “Yeah, doesn’t feel good being accused of that does it?”

“Of course not! No one ever wants to be accused of something like that. You know I love you, I’ve stuck by your side through so much. And I’m sorry if I’ve felt shut out or neglected. But I don’t understand what’s changed, why you won’t make time for me and prove to me that this relationship isn’t lost?”

Mat looked to the floor as he shook his head, acknowledging the things you’d said. Realizing that you were right, things had changed. And maybe he was too focused on his job that he refused to believe he’d dropped the ball.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, you sniffled as he walked toward you, wrapping you in a hug. Your body completely relaxing in his embrace, this hug was just like you’d remembered. It was what you needed, to feel him hold you tight and reassure you things were okay.

He took your face in his hands, resting his forehead on yours as he softly kissed you. “I fucking love you, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t want to lose you. I will do whatever I have to, to prove to you that you’re it for me y/n. I’m sorry you’ve felt like I don’t care or don’t love you.”

Your hands anxiously pulling at the hem of his shirt, this was what you’d wanted, needed to hear from him. But at the same time, a part of you wished he would’ve said the opposite. Despite Matthew wanting you to try and make things work with Mat, you knew deep down he wanted things to end. He wanted to be with you, but his heart wasn’t going to let him come between you and another man. That wasn’t the type of guy he was, despite his willingness to see you behind closed doors while you figured your shit out.

“Please, just don’t walk out on me tonight. Stay with me, let me make this right between us.”

Simply nodding your head, Mat had convinced you. His lips crashing to yours as he lifted you off your feet, carrying you down the hall to his bedroom before tossing you on the bed.

He gazed down at you as he pulled his shirt off with a cocky grin, before lowering himself on top of you to bring your lips back to his. “I fucking missed you baby.”

Arching your back against him you moaned into the kiss, your skin practically on fire from his touch. Something you’d been deprived of for so long.

“God I missed you Mat.”

Your thoughts racing as you tried your best to just focus on the moment, ignoring any doubts or worries about Matthew. Mat was your boyfriend, this was the man you loved.

The two of you couldn’t get enough of each other, hands grazing every inch of one another as you both were short of breath. It was as if it were the first time you two were having sex, having to learn what each other liked, explore each other features again.

Mat normally loving to tease you and make you beg, but not tonight. Tonight he needed to show you how much he loved you, how much he cared, how sorry he was for being such an asshole to you. Yet you stuck by his side, and he’d loved you so much for that.

You’d tried to get Mat on his back so you could take some control, but he playfully pinned your arms above your head. “Not tonight baby girl, let me take care of you.”

His words sending shivers down your spine as he sat up, undoing his belt buckle then forcing his pants and briefs down in one motion. You’re gaze not leaving his as his hands traced up your legs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them off and tossing them across the room along with your panties.

“Mat, hurry up. A girl has gone months without this, I can’t wait much longer.”

Smirking down at you, he stroked himself as he teased your slit, groaning at how wet you already were. “Fuck baby, I missed how wet you get for me.” Without warning he thrusts into you, the two of you moaning at the feeling, expletives leaving your lips as you feel yourself adjusting to him. Wrapping your legs around him as he slowly began picking up the pace, your nails digging into the skin of his back as your lips longed for his. The kisses not deep enough, thrusts not hard enough, the two of you needing even more.

“Baby, I’m not going to last much longer. You feel so fucking good.”

“Cum for me Mat, please. I’m so close.”

His thrusts quick and sloppy, his breaths shorter as he cursed against your skin. A low groan leaving his lips as he came, the two of you sweaty and exhausted as you tried to collect yourselves.

“Fuck…now tell me why we haven’t done that in months?”

Mat smirked at you as he stood up, leaving to go start the shower before coming back and lifting you off the bed. “Alright, now let’s get you cleaned up.” He pressed a kiss to your lips as he carried you bridal style into the bathroom. The two of you rinsing off before climbing back into bed.

You threw on one of Mat’s t-shirts as he pulled on a pair of sweats. Laying down and holding his arm out for you to find your spot next to him. Fingers intertwining with yours as you lay your head on his chest.

“I missed this, so much.”

You felt him smile at your words, kissing your head as he agreed. “Me too baby girl. And I’m sorry you ever thought I didn’t want this with you anymore.”

The room fell silent as you were content just enjoying feeling normal again, like you’d finally gotten back to where you’d been needing to be. In your head, thanking Matthew for convincing you to even go out on the date with Mat to begin with. For convincing you to see what would happen.

Though a part of you knew it would hurt him to know you were back on good terms. Despite him saying he hoped things would work out, you knew he would still be heartbroken to know you and Mat were making it work.

“Y/n?”

The tone is Mat’s voice slightly changing, catching you off guard as you hummed a response, letting him know you were listening.

“I really am going to be better. Make more of an effort, whether that be calls, or driving to see you more often. I’m going to be better. I don’t want you to ever have to wonder if I’m missing you, if I still love you, or god forbid if I’m cheating on you.”

Your heart sinking at having accused him of the very thing you’d done just the night before. When here he was, trying to prove to you he’d just been distant, but he never lost his love for you.

“I know, I hear everything you’re saying. And I appreciate it, more than you know.”

He’d gone silent for a moment once again, you could sense he was thinking, hearing his heart racing as you laid on his chest. Soon enough, he shot up, moving to sit in front of you. Catching you off guard as you looked at him confused.

“What is it?”

Mat took your hands in his, practically choking on his own tongue as he couldn’t get his words out.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but just hear me out.” Staring at him you were unsure of what you should be expecting him to say. Already happy enough with the fact that you’d, fingers crossed, gotten your boyfriend back. What else could he say now?

“I have loved you from the first day you’d found me at the rink, and shoved your phone in my face asking me to be a part of one of those dumb Tik Tok challenges. You didn’t give a fuck about who I was, just doing your job. And to be honest, that made me want to chase you even harder. Because you weren’t one of those girls who wanted me because of my looks. Or because I was a hockey player. You got to know me for who I was, and you took the time to see me for more than Mat Barzal of the New York Islanders.”

He smiled at you as he continued on, your mind and heart both racing as you couldn’t foresee the end of his sudden heartfelt moment.

“It breaks my heart you’ve felt alone for the last year. That you felt I had fallen out of love with you. But I promise, there would never be anything that could make me fall out of love with you y/n. And, I know you’re going to think I’m crazy when I ask this, but I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He briefly looked down at your hands in his, taking a deep breath as if to gain the confidence to finally spit out the words he’d been stalling from saying.

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world, and marry me?”

#matt rempe #nhl imagine #matt rempe fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fics #hockey fic #hockey imagine #matt rempe imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine

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yangbbokari · 9 months

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Skz making a bet on you Hyung line pt.2

Pairing: OT8 SKZ x f!Reader

Genre, AU: angst ofc, lovers to exes!AU

Warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, many mentions of insecurities. I think that abt it

Summary: you happened to learn one day that the never really loved you and only made a bet with the other members to see if you would fall in love with them

A.N: Not proof read at all and this is the hyung line pt.2 to the previous one. Maknae Line pt.2 is coming soon

Parts: Hyung Line Pt.1 Maknae Line

BANG CHAN He didn't even notice you were gone until his call ended. Going around the house, he called your name multiple times. When he got no reply, he assumed you went on a grocery trip. So, he took his time to shower, get dressed and get ready for bed. Before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep.

Chan hated waking up cold. You weren't there beside him. He'd gotten used to always holding you through out these 7 years. He grabbed his phone off the night stand and checked the time. It was already 6:57 in the morning. Not hearing from you at all left him with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

So he immediately dialed your number. It rang once. Then twice. Then three times. You never let it ring more than two times so why weren't you answering? Finally, it went to voicemail. He called a couple more times just for all of them to go to voicemail. He started panicking. It was unusual of you to not pick up his calls unless something went wrong. One more time, just calling you one more time to make sure.

You woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing uncontrollably. Rubbing your droopy eyes, you took your phone and answered it. “Hello?” You groggily said.

“Y-y/n? Where are you? Why weren’t you picking up my calls!? Hello? Y/n?”

The moment you hear his voice, the sleepiness left your body. You stayed silent because you were sure that you’d burst into anger and most likely tears if you tried to talk to him.

“Y/n? Why aren’t you answering me? I-I-I’m worried… Please just say something. You’re scaring me…”

You sat up in bed, holding the phone close to your ear. After clearing your throat you finally answered him.

“What do you want?” You were right. You were a little too irritated the moment you started talking to him.

“What do I want…? What do you mean!? I’m worried sick right now because you weren’t picking up my calls and you didn’t even come home last night. You could’ve at least texted me something, y/n. Don’t just leave me guessing of all the possibilities that could’ve happened to you!” He was practically yelling into the phone at this point and it only made you angrier.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not being the toy who sees you as their protector and is so incredibly annoying that you can’t say it to her and instead to your fucking friends!”

Chan was speechless for a few minutes before speaking up again. “What..?” He said almost breathlessly.

“I heard that phone call you were on.” You began sniffling and the tears began to fall. “You said that you had fun… fun playing with my feelings and making me believe that you were my protector an-an-and how annoying I was…” You could hear him sighing on the other end and you began to think that he was going to agree with you but he didn’t.

“No… no, Baby, you got it all wrong. I-I shouldn’t have worded it like that.” He sighed once more. “I was talking about when I pranked you earlier this week. When I pretended that I was dead when you tried to wake me up. And then you began crying telling me how much you loved me.”

As he told you about it, you began to remember. Why were you so stupid? You began grabbing your things and walking to the shared apartment, all while listening to his explanation.

“Now there’s nothing I can say about the annoying part. But I did say that because—. Wait, you didn’t hear me tell him— never mind. What I’m saying is that I started the sentence like that because I was saying that it just made me realize all the more how much I loved you no matter how hard it got between us. Because I know these small fights we have between each other and how mad we can get and how petty the arguments are. I just love you so much and the way you cried over me broke my heart. You’re everything I could ever possibly ask for and I’m just so gra—”

He turned his head and saw you standing in the doorway of the bedroom looking an absolute mess. He hadn’t heard when you came in since he was so busy talking to you.

“When’d you get here..?” Chan stood up and made his way over to you to make sure you were alright as he checked around your body. He had tears in his eyes. You couldn’t help but stare at your boyfriend’s face in awe.

“I-I-I-I thought you didn’t love me and I got scared. S-so I left but now everything is making sense and I feel so stupid. I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”

Chan took you into his arms, muffling your words. “Don’t say that. You have every right to think that way especially from what you heard. But don’t worry. I love you more than words can express.” The two of you cried into the comfort of each others arms and you’ve never felt better.

After tears were dried and things were dealt, Chan looked at you curiously. It made you a bit flustered. “Wh-why are you staring at me like that. Want to take your words back now?”

“No! I’m just wondering… how’d you get here so fast?”

“I-I-I was at my friend’s apartment. It’s a floor above us.”

He took you into his arms once again, chuckling. “God, I want to marry you.” All you could do was blush. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LEE MINHO The next day, Minho ran up to you and swung an arm around your neck. You were quick to push it off. He frowned and made a little pouting face.

"What's wrong? Why did you leave without me last night?"

You quickly answered each of his questions. Not wanting to be in his presence much longer. "Nothing. Something came up." You rushed past him and to class. Finals were just around the corner and you didn't have time to be dealing with someone like him.

This was your last year of school. You didn’t want the unwanted drama. You’ve sailed through school as a well-natured person, favored by the teacher’s. You didn’t want to ruin your reputation now.

But it wasn’t as easy as you thought. Minho would continue to bug you in each and every class. No matter what you were doing he was there. Constantly pushing him away wasn’t working and ignoring him CLEARLY wasn’t working. So you resulted to the only thing you had left, confrontation.

Without second thought, you went straight to him after school and kicked him in the shin.

“Ow! Who the fuck!” He quickly turned around to face you as his demeanor slowly changed. “O-oh, y/n… It’s you.” He sounded kind of disappointed if you were being completely honest.

“What did you do that for, Sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes and stormed off. Leaving him to chase after you.

"Woah, woah, woah, hey..." He grabbed you by the wrist and spun you around. "What's the matter?"

He was the most disgusting human being on this planet and you didn't want anything to do with it. It made you extremely irrtated and you didn't want to be there. If anything, his act he was putting up was probably all a part of that sick and disgusting, "joke," as they called it.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow."

That was all you said before finally getting in your car and driving home. You hated that you were such a pushover. You hated that no one coud truly accept you for you. You hated that you were so stupid. You hated that you were so blind. You hated yourself.

You pondered over the entire weekend. Highschool's almost over. It didn't matter now. But to you, it did matter. You weren't going to just let people treat you like trash anymore. You knew just what to do.

On Monday, you came in as a fresh new person. Both physical wise and mental wise. You weren't gonna let people fuck with you anymore. You spent the whole weekend researching on makeup. You already knew lots about fashion. Your closet was already filled with fashionable items, you just weren't sure when to wear them.

With some accents to your school uniform, you looked perfect. Now the problem was the makeup. This wasn't your forte. You've never really used makeup so it was a struggle. But with enough practice, it was almost perfect. Even though it was a struggle, your makeup came out just fine.

When walking in, you could feel the eyes that followed you. It made you super uncomfortable. Maybe you did your makeup wrong and looked like a clown instead of what you intended. Your anxiety quickly built up and you ran for the bathroom. On the way there, you bumped into a wall. Well, a body rather.

The boy gently pushed your body off of his and you were quite dissapointed with the boy you were faced with. It was Minho.

"Woah... miss, are you okay? You should watch where you're going. You're too pretty to be hurt. Are you new here?"

All you could do was scoff. People were staring because you all of a sudden looked beautiful in other's eyes. Even Minho couldn't recognize you.

"It's me, Dipshit."

"Y-y/n?"

You rolled your eyes and kicked him in his balls before leaving the scene. That was the best feeling in your life. Two less problems to deal with. Minho and the judgement of society. Fuck the rest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ SEO CHANGBIN You kept crying throughout the night. It shouldn't hurt this much but you couldn't help the tears from falling. At about 9pm, Changbin knocked on the door.

"Y/n..? I know you're upset with me but please come eat dinner. Please?"

When you didn't reply, you could hear him sigh. It's not that you didn't want to talk to him and that you were ignoring him. It was just that you weren't sure if your mental state could handle that right now. You didn't want to just lash out at him.

There was some clinking and clanking in the kitchen before you heard the front door shut. It made you want to cry even harder. But you were sure that any other girl would do better for him. Than the one who currently had her back against the door as she cried.

You slowly got up and opened the door to see if he really left. It kind of broke your heart but what else could you really do in this situation? You made your way to the couch and sat down, holding your knees close to your chest. The tears were unstoppable and kept coming. It wasn't like you wanted them to, it's just you didn't know how to stop them.

As you were drowning in you sorrows, you heard the front door open. Immediately, your head shot up only to see Changbin standing there with a guilty look and a bouquet of flowers. He stood there frozen in his place.

"Baby, why are you still u-"

"Where were you?" You interceded.

Taking a quick glance between you and the door, he pointed towards it.

"I figured that you'd need space so I went out. Then I realized that you might think something bad about it. Like I'm leaving you or something. So I went to grab some gifts and come back home. So that I can beg you to take me back if you decided to break up with me. If you didn't take me back then I wo-"

At this point, Chanbin was just rambling on and on. You could see how sorry he was and it made you feel like you were a fool. So you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his frame. You cried into his chest not knowing what else you could do.

Changbin was a little to stunned to move or speak for a minute. But he slowly embraced you after setting the roses down.

"Baby... I thought you'd be mad at me." He cautiously stated.

Your lower lip quivered as you replied to him. "I-I am! But just a little bit. I'd rather have you by my side than lose you forever over something silly. Plus it happened in the past and you told me yourself. S-so I guess it makes it a better..."

And at that, Changbin holds you even tighter and lets out a sigh of relief. "I thought I would lose you forever over a mistake, in the past, I made. Thank you for forgiving me." He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. But you shook your head.

"No, thank you for loving me." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ HWANG HYUNJIN After running for a while, you slowed down and began walking. You went to the Han River and took a seat on one of the benches. Checking your phone, to see the battery life was out and decided to take the time to relax. A lot had already been going on in your life. You had just found out that your mother was sick and you didn't want to tell Hyunjin because that would make him worry. You got reprimanded at work for getting an order wrong. Nearly fired because you "didn't know how to do your job right."

It was a stressful day and you just hoped that movie night would make it better. Except it didn't. It made it worse.

Having to find out from Jisung instead of Hyunjin himself really hurt. You knew that Hyunjin would tell you when he was ready. But, you couldn't shake off the feeling that he never liked you, let alone love you, to begin with.

You also knew that Hyunjin loved you and you were just overthinking. But were you? The river was peaceful as is and you didn't want to face reality right now so that's where you stayed.

It wasn't until nearly midnight, did you return home. Upon entering your apartment, you were met with a very distraught Hyunjin. He looked freaked out about something. But as soon as he saw you, he took you into his arms, tightly. He sobbed out onto your shoulder as he said, "thank you," over and over again.

"H-hyunnie..? What's wrong?" You ask worriedly. Yes, you were upset. But seeing him like this did something to you.

"I thought- I thought that something happened to you. You weren't picking up your calls or replying to my messages so I told the boys and other friends we both knew to contact you too, figuring you didn't want to talk to me of all people. B-but then they all said they couldn't reach you either. So I came to your apartment and when you weren't here I got absolutely terrified. What if you didn't make it home? What if you got hurt. What if you got KIDNAPPED!? And that would all happen because I was too stupid to admit the truth. Because I made you angry. Because I made the one person I promised not to hurt, hurt so badly. A-a-a-a-an-and-"

He was terribly hyperventilating at this point so you grabbed his face and kissed him. He immediately softened into the kiss. His breathing got slower and his body began to slump.

You slowly pulled away and gazed into his eyes as you started consoling him.

"Hyunnie... my phone died and I stayed by the Han River. I did not get hurt or kidnapped as you can see. Since, I'm standing right in front of you right now. If anything did happen, I would never let you blame yourself because it wouldn't be your fault. Besides, I love you and I wouldn't want you to live with that."

His teary eyes looked into yours as his lips formed a soft pout. "You still love me?"

"Of course I do. Even if you made a bet on me."

It made him cry even more at the fact that you still had this much trust in him.

"I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist: @123rinu @pgnwook @mixtape-racha @hannieslovebot @lolareadsimagines @garrixer-06 @bandolls @chansbabygirlsstuff @camilagonzalex @mariteez @beccaskz @kibs-and-bits @kaitchan

@lynlyndoll @bangchansslut6 @hanniemylovelyquokka @changbinsjuicybiceps @xx-twalia-xx @bangchansprettygf @lvlnijiro @totallynotlyntv @htnw004 @shecheatedwithme @jiisungllvr @neteyamsmate4life @yoongles2025 @cosniffee @gdaymates @iilliess @tadashisdisaster sry if I missed u on the taglist

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stop-talking · 3 months

Text

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 6)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 3.3k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, HEAVY angst, fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, mentions of masturbating.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Derek wakes up in your arms, and decides that's exactly how he wants to start every morning from now on.

Today's the day. He's going to confess to you.

Well, if he can sneak out of bed without waking you up. That might prove to be a challenge, seeing as how you have both an arm and a leg draped over him.

Under other circumstances, he'd be content to just lay here and let you hold him. Unfortunately, there was a sort of... "incident" last night. One he desperately wants to clean up after.

So, he carefully moves your limbs, shifting slowly until he's off the bed. You stir in your sleep and he waits with bated breath, but thankfully you remain unconscious.

It's still early morning. Barely past sunrise, from what he can tell. Hopefully he'd have time to get a few things done before you inevitably realize he's gone.

As he slips out of his clothes to hop into the shower, he's suddenly extremely grateful you'd taught him how to use the washing machine. If you saw the mess he'd made of his boxers, he would probably have to off himself.

While he washes off, he goes over his plan for the day in his head. Derek has always been somewhat of a romantic, despite how things may seem. Dating is just... complicated when you're a billionaire. And the president's son. And a crackhead.

He groans and shakes himself out of his slump as he dries himself on a towel. None of those things matter here. Right now, he isn't an addict, billionaire, or the son of the president. He's just a man.

A man who desperately needs to tell you how he feels. Derek is sure if he has to spend one more "platonic" night in your bed he's going to go insane.

So, he starts to put his plan into motion.

"Half cup water... one and one-half cups mix..." He mutters, reading the instructions on the back of the box of pancake mix. Even though you've had him help cook almost every meal, he still hasn't learned much. He's an expert at standing there and stirring, sure, but actually cooking? Not really.

Pancakes, though? He's pretty confident he can make those. Hell, he could probably scramble a few eggs to go with it. You'd taught him that a couple days ago.

He wants to show you he's serious. How much he appreciates what you've done for him, and how much more he needs from you.

But what can he offer in return?

Breakfast, for a start. If he was back home, he'd either take you out somewhere nice or have his chefs prepare something. That isn't an option here, but he could make due.

Derek stands back and studies the stack of pancakes and skillet of scrambled eggs. It looks... edible? Right? Not terrible, at least.

He sighs and starts to clean up the counter. He'd made quite the mess, probably dripping an entire pancake's worth of batter everywhere. You make cooking look so easy, damnit.

Now what? Go wake you up? No, surely there's something else he can do for you. His brow furrows in concentration as he takes the dirty dishes to the sink. The sink that's already filled to the brim with old cups, plates, and cutlery.

Fuck. Guess he's doing the dishes.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You wake up feeling uneasy. Something's missing.

No... someone is missing. Where's Derek?

After checking his bedroom, you stumble downstairs, still in your pajamas.

"Derek?" You call out, getting a little more anxious with every empty room you pass through. Where the hell is he?

"In here!"

Oh. The kitchen. Duh. You turn the corner and see Derek with his sleeves rolled up, arms plunged elbow-deep into soapy water.

"What are you doing?" You can't help but ask, even though the answer is obvious. He's doing the dishes. Without a fuss.

"Oh, uh... just... I used a lot of dishes making breakfast, and-" He stammers, nodding his head over to the stove.

"Breakfast?" You follow his gaze, eyeing the stack of pancakes.

Is this real? Did Derek fucking Danforth just wake up early and make you breakfast? And what the hell is he wearing?

"Yeah. I thought I'd thank you. You know, for the cake."

He dries his hands off on a dishcloth, and you silently take in his outfit. He's dressed up. Or, at least, what Derek probably considers dressed up. It's a little strange seeing him back in one of those silk button-ups he's so fond of after nearly a week of the regular ol' shorts and t-shirts his mom picked out for him.

Oh, shit. He's looking at you. Say something.

"What's the occasion?" You finally spit out, eyes darting between his clothes, the clean dishes, and the fresh breakfast.

Derek scoffs. "Occasion? Does there have to be an occasion for me to do something nice for you?"

"Guess not." You mumble, still a little dazed from everything that's happened in the past few minutes.

"A 'thank you' would be nice, ya know." He crosses his arms and gives you an exaggerated pout.

"Oh my god, Derek." Laughing, you forcefully un-cross his arms and pull him into an embrace, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He groans from the sheer force of your hug, and wraps his arms around you as well, returning the gesture in earnest.

Holding him so close like this, you can't help but notice his scent. He smells... different.

"Is that cologne?" You ask, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes as you giggle.

Derek's cheeks flush pink and he stammers out a response, tripping over his words.

"I-I always wear cologne."

"No, you don't. At least not lately."

"And how would you know? You make it a habit of smelling me?"

He's obviously trying to bait you, so you just roll your eyes.

"Derek. You've practically been living on my lap lately. I know what you usually smell like."

"Okay, well, I wanted to smell nice today. Sue me."

"You want to smell nice today... but there's no occasion?" You lean in a little closer, and give him your best teasing smile. He's just trying so hard today, it's adorable.

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but instead just gives you a weak smile. His eyes flicker from your eyes down to your lips, and his arms squeeze you a little tighter.

Shit. If you keep this up, he's probably going to kiss you. Or you'll kiss him. And you aren't quite sure how to feel about that.

Still, you don't want to break the hug just yet. One of your hands makes it's way up to his earlobe, and you start to fiddle with his earring. Your other arm remains firmly wrapped around his waist.

"This a real diamond?"

"Of course." He scoffs, and with how close you are, you can feel his little huff of breath on your face.

"You aren't scared to lose it?"

"I have a hundred more just like it, sweetheart."

Of course he does. Rich bastard. You try to pull away, but he clings onto you.

"Hey, I still didn't get a thank you." Derek pouts, giving you that pitiful expression he's so good at. Damnit.

Fine, he wants a thank-you? You know exactly how to thank him...

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Here, let me get that for you." For the first time, Derek offers to carry the little bag of essentials as you make your way down to the beach together.

As he slugs the heavy thing over his shoulder, he feels a bit of regret for not offering sooner. He likes to think of himself as a gentleman, but obviously he isn't if he's been making you carry this damn thing all along.

"Thank you, love."

All those feelings of remorse fade when you take his hand and smile. His chest floods with warmth and he can't help but wish you'd thank him the same way you did earlier that morning.

He still can't believe you actually kissed him. On the cheek, sure, but a kiss is a kiss, and Derek isn't going to complain.

"It's pretty out today." He muses, looking up at the clear sky. You simply hum in agreement as the two of you trudge through the sand together.

This is a way more romantic setting than the kitchen. That's why Derek hasn't yet confessed to you. Not because you make him nervous or anything.

Okay, maybe it's partially due to nerves. He can't help it. You kissed him before he could get a word out.

You kissed him.

Thinking about it makes him grin like a fool, and he squeezes your hand a little tighter as he walks. He still can't believe he got so lucky.

And hey, maybe he'll get lucky again.

"Race you to the water!"

Or maybe not. Derek groans and drops the beach bag, then rushes after you. He kicks up sand, then water as he makes his way into the ocean.

"FUCK, it's cold." He cries out as the water reaches his chest. Honestly, he didn't even plan to wade in this deep, but he was determined to catch up to you.

"Oh, don't be a baby. It feels nice."

Derek's breath hitches as you snake an arm around his waist, pulling him tightly against your side. Tentatively, he puts his own arm around your back.

"You're gonna regret making fun of me when I fucking drown right in front of you." He grumbles, still a little uneasy being this far in the ocean.

"I won't let you drown. Even if it's a little tempting." You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"It's tempting to let me drown?" He scoffs, feigning annoyance. It's so hard to be mad at you when you're cuddled up to him like this.

"Maybe." Your other arm wraps around him now, trapping him in a tight hug.

Derek's heart pounds and he can feel his brain go fuzzy. This is it. He should tell you, right now, how much he wants you. How much he needs you.

Unfortunately, before he can stammer out a response, a wave draws near. An especially tall wave.

He tries to take a few steps back, but his legs tangle with yours and he stumbles. In his terrified state, he only grips you tighter, effectively pulling you back with him.

The two of you plunge into the water and Derek nearly drowns you in an attempt to right himself. After a few seconds of struggling, he feels you hook your hands under his armpits and pull him up.

He coughs and sputters, then braces himself as that wave he'd seen earlier finally washes over the both of you. For a minute, he's certain he's a goner. The water goes over his head before he can even hold his breath, mouth still full of saltwater.

You hold him tightly against your chest as the wave passes over you both, then start dragging him back towards the shore. When he finally opens his eyes and shakes the water from his ears, he notices the sky has gone dark. Shit.

"Are you okay, love?"

Derek just blinks at you as he wobbles to his feet in the knee-deep water, trembling fiercely. Your hands cup his face, turning it left and right as you inspect every inch of him.

He pulls away, if only to cough up a gallon of water.

"Might need... CPR... mouth-to-mouth...?" He chokes out, laughing in an attempt to get his racing heart under control.

"Oh my god, Derek. First you nearly scare me to death, then you ask for a kiss?" You give him a light shove, but your face gives away the relief you feel.

"In my defense, I did warn you I was going to drown." He scoffs.

Your response is cut off as it starts to drizzle. The sky, which was a perfect endless blue just minutes ago, is now completely covered in dark clouds.

"You wanna finish this inside?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After showering off the sand and saltwater, you throw on some pajamas and head over to Derek's room.

Yeah, it's the middle of the afternoon, but with the raging storm outside...? Well, it just feels like a pajama kind of day.

"Derek?" You call out, making sure to knock loudly on his door. Don't need any more accidents. "Can I come in?"

"No." He croaks, and you're certain you can hear him sniffle.

Shit. You'd better apologize soon.

"Please?"

No response. Damnit.

"I'm coming in anyways." You announce, slowly opening the door.

Derek lies sprawled across his bed, one arm draped over his face. The room is depressingly dark for the middle of the day, and the dreary whether definitely isn't helping.

Still, his outfit almost makes you chuckle. He's sporting a green robe that you hope he has some kind of clothes under, and his hair is still damp from his shower. God, this man certainly has a flair for the dramatic.

"Derek, love? What are you doing?"

He groans as you flick on his lamp, burying his face further into his arm.

"Sulking." He answers honestly.

You sigh and hop up to sit next to him on the bed, instinctively placing a hand in his hair. A familiar tightness pulls at your chest as you try to find the right words to say. Guilt.

"I'm so sorry for earlier. I shouldn't have made you go that far out, not when you can't even swim. I should have-"

Derek cuts you off, weakly pushing your hand away.

"Stop. Not mad at you."

His half-assed grunt of a response throws you off. What? Not mad at you? Then what the hell is he sulking for?

You sit in silence for a minute, chewing on his words. Fuck, how do you fix this? He almost fucking drowned because of you.

"Still want that mouth-to-mouth?" You tease, nudging him.

That gets him to look up at you. His eyes are puffy and red, a sign he's been crying.

"Is that a serious offer?"

"Was it a serious request?"

You both silently stare at each other, for a lot longer than you probably should. Does he actually want a kiss? Damnit, why are you even considering this?

"Just tell me what's bothering you."

Derek sighs and tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

"A lot of things."

"That's real specific. Thanks."

Without even looking, he gently smacks your leg with a hand. Brat.

"C'mon, Derek? Please?" You lean over him, lacing your fingers into his hair once more. He doesn't want you to leave, not really. You're sure of it.

"Well for starters, my head hurts." He grumbles, leaning into your touch.

"And my throat feels weird. I think I swallowed half the ocean."

You start to reply, but he opens his eyes and holds up a hand, shushing you.

"Seriously. When we finally have internet again, check the news. There'll be headlines about it. 'RISING SEA LEVELS MYSTERIOUSLY FIX THEMSELVES; NO LONGER AN ISSUE' or some shit."

You burst into a fit of laughter. God, he's so dramatic.

"Wow, I... Anything else?" You sputter out, choking back more laughter.

Derek just glares up at you, so you gently tug at his curls and plant a quick kiss on his forehead. It's not... weird, right? You've already kissed his cheek. This isn't much different.

He lets out a soft whimper and shifts slightly, scooting closer to you.

"You wanna lay on my lap?"

"Please."

It's not a strange request. Your lap seems to be one of Derek's favorite places lately, as you've both gotten more comfortable with each other. So, you decide to try something a bit different.

"Here, no, this way..." You scoop your arms underneath him and he melts at your touch, letting you move his limp body how you like.

After a little bit of struggle, you get him situated between your legs. His cheek rests against your bare thigh, his stubble tickling your skin. Guess your pajama shorts are riding up quite a bit. Oops.

"How's that, love?"

He just hums in response, eyes closed again as you play with his hair. One of his hands makes it's way up your leg, settling on your thigh, right next to his face. He doesn't grab or grope you, seeming content with the gentle touch.

His hand is soft. You've noticed that before, but now, in contrast with his scratchy stubble, it feels even softer. He has the hands of a man who's never had to work a day in his life.

And here he is, acting like a lapdog.

"I've been trying to tell you something all day." He mumbles groggily, probably already half-asleep.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

There's a long pause. You continue to stroke his hair, and he nuzzles against your thigh. Your eyes wander down his figure, smiling at the green robe. It looks good on him. It'd probably look better off him.

Maybe putting him between your legs was a bad idea, because suddenly your mind is plagued with images of him coming. Fuck, that was nearly a week ago now, and you can still envision it perfectly.

"Are you... gonna tell me?" You finally ask, trying to distract yourself.

"Not sure I should, honestly."

"If not telling me is making you cry like this... you should probably just spill."

"I'm not crying." He shifts, letting his head fall back between your legs as he pouts up at you.

Fuck. He's so goddamn close. You give him an incredulous look in return.

"Okay, I'm not crying anymore." He corrects himself, avoiding your gaze.

"Just tell me what's on your mind, love."

He grabs your hand and moves it to cup his cheek as he finally looks back up into your eyes. His expression is that of pure admiration. God, he looks so vulnerable.

When he finally speaks, it's barely above a whisper.

"I think I'm falling for you."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek's breath hitches. He can't believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Above him, you look equally shocked. He watches as you seem to go through the five stages of grief, expression changing rapidly.

He just lies there, frozen in anticipation. Your hand presses against his cheek a little more tightly and you let out a sigh.

"Derek, no."

No? What the hell does that mean? Is this a rejection? His heart plummets into his stomach and before he can ask, you speak again.

"No, you aren't." You speak firmly, eyes fixed on his.

"Fuck does that mean?" He stammers, starting to get agitated. How can you so confidently declare you know his own feelings better than he does?

"It means you don't like me like that. Not really. I'm just the only person around."

Before he can argue further, you move your hand over his mouth, cutting him off.

"And you're not yourself right now. Not with the withdrawals and whatnot. This isn't right. I'd be taking advantage of you."

Derek's chest tightens and he bites his tongue. Fuck. He didn't think of it like that. Still, he doesn't really care. He'd happily let you take advantage of him. But how to explain that to you?

"It's not- you're not... I..." He rips your hand away, tripping over his own words as he tries to voice his feelings. Why do you look blurry?

Shit. He's crying again.

The worst part is, you're making sense. He can't say with 100% confidence that his feelings for you haven't at all been influenced by the fact you're the only one here with him. Would he have fallen for anyone given these circumstances? Derek isn't sure.

You seem to notice his wavering resolve, because you sigh and gently move him from between your legs.

"Where are you going?" He chokes back a sob, sitting up as you slide off the bed.

"Gonna make dinner."

You turn and leave without another word. When the door clicks shut, Derek just flops back down on the bed, letting the despair take him.

Hey, maybe he'd cry out that gallon of saltwater he swallowed.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: Sorry for the wait on this chapter... I went a little off-track and wrote some smut about being Mike Schmidt's dentist. Oops.

Anyways, I hope this chapter is as angsty as I intended. I'm trying here. I'm always open to constructive criticism, or feedback of any kind, really. Feel free to put an anonymous message in my inbox, or leave a comment. Is there anything I've written that made you cringe? Are there slow parts that you skim over? Are there any words that you've noticed I use too frequently?

Literally any feedback is welcome, just be respectful about it. Thanks!! <3

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #derek danforth #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth x reader #the beekeeper #josh hutcherson x you #derek danforth x you #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #derek danforth smut #no use of y/n #x reader fic #x fem reader #angst fic #slowburn fic #slowburn romance

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homeofthelonelywriter · 2 months

Text

Drawn to you | Pt. 6

(A/N) There we go. I'm so sorry about not posting last week. A lot came up and I didn't find the time to write anything. Also, I really enjoy writing human!Alastor, more so than I thought, so there's gonna be more of that.

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: murder...yep, sexism, nightmare, flashback

Synopsis: Will he finally remember you?

“Alastor?”

When did he fall asleep? As his eyes widened, he spun around and came face to face with Charlie. She looked concerned, one of her hands raised as if she was about to touch him, but hesitated.

“Ah, princess. What can I do for you?”

The demon got to his feet and swiped his clawed hands over his coat as if to smooth out any wrinkles. Now that he was standing, Charlie had to look up at him, a motion that had always given Alastor a feeling of power, but right now, all he could think about was you.

“I’m sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in on the two of you and offer to give you a break. You’ve been in this room for days now.”

It’s true. He has been here for days. Watching you sleep and heal. Watching you slowly get better. And if he’s honest, it’s the only reason he hasn’t marched up to Valentino and beat him to pulp. So no, he didn’t want the princess to take over. He wouldn’t be able to take accountability for what happens if he leaves the room without you.

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather stay here.”

Her face fell, concern washing over it again. She opened her mouth, about to object, but a quiet whimper stopped her.

Alastor whipped around as soon as he heard the sound leave your lips and rushed to your bedside. You were thrashing around, your face distorted in fear. You were having a nightmare. Charlie joined Alastor at your side, but he quickly shooed her away, reasoning that the more people you saw once you woke up, the more you’d panic. She hesitated, but after a few seconds nodded and left the room.

The radio demon turned all his attention to you now, still battling with the blanket on top of you. He gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the mattress, trying to keep you from hurting him or yourself.

“It’s okay dear, I’m here.”

He continued to hold you down while whispering nonsense, trying to break past the panic of what you were experiencing at that moment and reach you. And it worked. You suddenly went limp, another whimper leaving your lips, but this time it was his name…but…not really his name.

“Ali…”

He blinked once…twice…three, no four times, his eyes glazing over as memories came rushing back to him. New Orleans…the radio station…and suddenly he felt the humid heat against his skin, the sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose and he pushed them back up again.

Earth - late 1910s

He stood before his workplace, the radio company where he took over the late airings. With his usual smile, he entered the well-air-conditioned building and made his way up to the offices, on a mission to find his favorite coworker.

He quickly spotted her, shoulders slumped as she read over a page. His cheerful smile lost most of its cheer, no longer reaching his eyes as he gazed upon her back. She deserved so much more than working for thankless, egotistical men who couldn’t appreciate her genius.

With quick steps, he closed the distance between himself and her and placed his hands over her eyes, his grin returning to it’s usual brightness.

“Guess who?”

The chuckle that escaped her lips made his heart beat faster, a soft blush covering his cheeks. It was the loveliest sound he’d ever heard and at the same he wished to keep that sound to himself, he wanted to broadcast it to the entire world.

“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”

His shoulders shook as a bubbly laugh escaped his lips. He rarely laughs, but with her, it felt natural. He leaned down slightly until he could whisper into her ear.

“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”

She shook her head and Alastor lowered his hands, as the woman spun around in her chair, smiling at him. And…it was you. He finally recognized you.

“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”

Gently, he took a hold of your right hand, guiding it to his lips to press a quick kiss against your knuckles, while you rolled your eyes. You always did but he still insisted on the gesture. After all, it was one of the only places he could kiss. At least for now.

“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”

As soon as you mentioned your boss, his eyes hardened and he glared at the office door that hid the fat man. If he could only kill him…maybe he would. In that moment he wondered how it felt to kill someone.

“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”

Your eyes widened at his comment you raised your hands to cover his mouth. But he just chuckled and lowered them slowly.

“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”

Alastor turned back to you with his signature smile. How adorble you were, always looking out for him.

“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”

He watched a light blush cover your cheeks. You lowered your head to hide it, but he still noticed. Of course he did, he noticed everything about you. That coy smile you were wearing right now. Your favorite perfume that he could always smell on you. How you always seemed to sit up straighter when he was near. And the excitment in your eyes when you see him.

Alastor chuckled again, before carefully ruffling through your hair, making sure not to destroy your hairdo too much. You started to complain, but before the first word could even slip past your lips, he had stopped and instead started to fix the mess he had made. Then he turned back to you.

“So, what’s on your agenda today?”

You reached for the pieces of paper on your desk and went through them, Alastor listening intently and taking notes in his head. He loved your ideas and often used them during his broadcast. Especially topics he knew you were passionate about.

“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”

Alastor nodded. He’d definitely have to mention that, especially after you turned to look at him with that sparkle in your eyes. He smiled, he loved that side of you. Excited and passionate. Something he rarely found in the women around him, something that drew him even closer to you.

His thoughts were interrupted when his name was called across the office space. He looked up and saw his boss waving him over. His eyes flickered to you and he saw the disappointment in them. And he understood it all too well, himself being annoyed that he had to leave you.

“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”

Knowing his boss didn’t like to be kept waiting, Alastor started to walk away while still facing you.

“I always do.”

Once again his heart fluttered at your words, a giant grin spreading across his lips before he turned and ran towards his boss who was already looking annoyed. As soon as Alastor was close enough, the other man started walking, keeping silent until they were out of the office.

“Well, is she your girl?”

Alastor looked at his boss, confusion plain on his face, but shook his head once the other man confirmed he was talking about you.

“Hm…in that case…maybe I’ll call her into my office then. You know, get to it. She’s a real cutie.”

Alastor would never admit it. He usually was more careful with his killings, but at the moment he saw red.

With a strained smile, he asked his boss if he’d like to go out for a smoke, his treat of course. Once the man agreed, Alastor led him out the back door, where no one ever was, and distracted him long enough for the radio host to grab a loose brick and whack him over the back of his head. It was enough to knock him out, but that wasn’t enough. If he could have, Alastor would have beaten the man to a pulp, but he couldn’t get any blood on his person, so he instead decided to use his belt to strangle him to death.

Once he was sure the man was dead, he got to his feet, breathing heavily while his lips slowly pulled into a wicked grin. Oh, how good that felt. He only wished he could’ve watched the panic in his eyes while he died.

Still, Alastor’s mind quickly returned to the task at hand. He had just killed someone in the alley behind where he worked. He’s not sure, but there was a possibility, that others saw them leaving together and then he’d be done for. His mind was racing as he thought of what to do. He had to stage the scene, that much was obvious, but how?

Burglary.

He quickly reached into his boss’s pants and pulled out his wallet, removing all the cash before dropping the empty wallet next to the body. Next, he removed the large, gold ring from the man’s little finger, as well as his pocket watch. The last touch was taking off the man’s belt and wrapping it around his neck in place of his own, just so that the police would think that it was used to murder him and not search for another one.

Once done, he stepped back, a proud smile on his lips as he pocketed the objects he had just taken. He could use those to remember this. His first kill. But surely not his last.

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @dasimp777 @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts @mo-0-o @xalygatorx @fairyv-ice

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #alastor love

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linos-luna · 5 months

Text

My Queen (Pt. 7) • Last part •

Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, delusions, Stockholm Syndrome, smut, fingering, groping

(Pt. 6) (Last Part)

—————————— 👑———————————

The days come and go. As you plan your wedding, you feel like you’re in a dream. Hyunjin has become even more attentive and protective but you don’t mind. He gives you all the love and attention you could ever want. He wanted you to be happy everyday all day.

Your love for him has become stronger. No matter what anyone says, you know that Hyunjin is the prince that returned you to the castle at took you away from the dangerous world. The world is cruel. Full of awful people that want to hurt you and dangerous structures. It is much more safe to stay in the castle.

Speaking of, you love your castle. You’ve made it your own and decorated as you please. The bedroom is elegant and cozy, kitchen is rich with color and ingredients for the best food, and living room decorated beautifully. Every room was filled with your favorite colors and personal touch. Your castle is gorgeous.

You and Hyunjin have worked so hard on the garden. Growing strawberries, tomatoes and zucchini. Many other foods as well. The flowers? Well you grew some news but kept the older ones as well. The ones you couldn’t see? It’s silly to think they were never there. They were just to beautiful for the human eye to comprehend, but they are there, no doubt.

With the amount of growth and fluoresment present, you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been here. Perhaps a year…? Who knows. And it doesn’t even matter to you.

~~~~~~ 👑

It’s a beautiful spring day and you found yourself in the garden, picking the fresh strawberries from their vines. You can’t wait to eat them with your fiancé. Fresh strawberries, Greek yogurt, and granola. A perfect lunch.

You walk in with the basket of berries, taking them to the kitchen before washing your hands in the sink. You had gotten some dirt on your hands but you didn’t mind.

Hyunjin watched as you washed the strawberries and pulled out some bowls.

“What are you making, my love?” He speaks up suddenly.

“Parfaits.” You replied.

“My Queen, you do not need to work so hard.”

“It’s okay.” You say with a smile while cutting the stems from the strawberries. “I want to make it.”

Hyunjin shrugged, letting you continue. It wasn’t long before you finished and set the bowls on the table.

“My love, it looks amazing.”

“Thanks Jinnie.” You smile when watching him eat. He then feeds you. The fresh strawberries were sweet and delicious.

At some point, Hyunjin gave you a sudden kiss. The taste of strawberries lingered on your and his lips.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin chuckled. “I just love you.” He was always so sweet. Hyunjin looked at you with love in his eyes as he gently rubbed your cheek.

“I love you too Jinnie.” You replied with a smile. When finishing your food, Hyunjin gets up and cleans up the dishes. Meanwhile you look at your phone, reading the incoming messages. It was Jihyo. Hyunjin knows how important your friend is to you so he finally let you keep and use your phone. After all, There’s no reason not to trust you.

After responding, you slip your phone back in your pocket and move to the living room. Something was playing on the TV but it was more like background noise as you barely paid attention to it. Hyunjin sat next to you, giving a kiss to your cheek.

“My Queen? Do you know what today is?”

“Hm?”

“It’s our one year anniversary!” Hyunjin said excitedly.

“Oh wow.” You replied, now thinking about it. Had it really been a year??

“My love, it’s been a year since I brought you home.” He chuckled. “How could you forget?”

“I’m losing track of time I guess.”

“My sweet Queen… let me ravish you with love.” He said while turning your head to kiss your lips.

You gently kiss back as he puts his hand on your hip. This kisses were passionate and lips so addicting. You gasped softly as he kissed your neck and pushing you on your back.

Hyunjin looked over you while touching you under your shirt, massaging your braless breasts and continuing to kiss down your neck, nipping every once in a while. You let out breathy moans as he use one hand to palm over your pants.

This had you hot and needy. You desperately pulled your shirt off and tugged down your pants.

Hyunjin loved this and continued by sucking at your breasts and teasing your clit, slipping his fingers under your panties. This had you moaning and whimpering.

“My love, let me please you…” he whispered against your neck before slipping his two fingers in your cunt.

“F-fuck— Jinnie—!”

“Shh… relax my darling.”

Hyunjin slowly went in and out with his fingers, curving them ever so slightly to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves.

Breathy moans escaped your lips and your back slightly arched. It was hard not to sound like you’re crying as tears rolled down your cheeks. You tightly gripped his hair as you were already so close to reaching your high.

“Cmon, my love… cum on my fingers…”

“F-fuck—….” With a loud moan and eyes rolled back, you let go.

After pulling out his fingers, he stuck them in his mouth to taste your essence.

“My Queen…” he breathed. “My Queen is so sweet…”

You stared at him, feeling a bit dazed. His addictive plump limps and hypnotic eyes made you want more. You whimpered a little, needing his attention again. It was only a short bit before he started kissing you again.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

“I just want you…” you replied while holding on to him.

“Yeah? My sweet queen, you’ll always have me.” He smiled while rubbing your cheek. “My love, do you understand how beautiful you are?”

You only shook your head.

Hyunjin chuckled and rubbed your sides. “You are the most beautiful person ever… most kind and loving… no one deserves your graciousness.”

All you could do was blush at his compliments. He did this often but it always had you falling for him all over again.

“My sweet queen, I’ll protect you forever… I’ll keep the hideous world away…” Hyunjin continued giving soft kisses along your neck. “I love you… and I’ll never leave you… but will you ever leave me?”

“I would never.” You managed to get out between kisses.

"My Queen, I got you something," Hyunjin announced as he got up. "For the wedding."

Putting your shirt and pants back on, you followed him to the bedroom. "For your veil, you deserve a crown," he said, presenting a sparkly tiara, undoubtedly an exquisite and expensive piece. "I believe it will go perfectly with whatever dress you pick."

"Wow!" you said excitedly. "It's so pretty!"

Hyunjin smiled, placing the tiara on your head. "My Love, we will be going dress shopping today."

"Really?!"

"Yes. Now go get ready. Keep the crown on."

With a kiss on the lips, you eagerly headed to the closet to get dressed for the outing.

~~~~~~~~ 👑

Hyunjin took you to the finest stores in town to find the perfect wedding dress. His anxiety and paranoia were setting in as he stayed by your side and hyper vigilant. While in a bridal shop, Hyunjin waited patiently in the dressing room until the manager approached him.

"Sir, is that your fiancée?" she asked curiously.

"Yes.”

"Not to be rude, but isn't the bride supposed to go dress shopping with her mother and bridesmaids?"

Hyunjin shot her an annoyed expression. "Well, I'm shopping with her."

"Yes, but—?"

"She only needs me!" he blurted out, causing the woman to back off, concerned about his outburst.

She couldn’t help thinking about it, she feels like she’s seen you before… maybe online or tv…? It had her feeling extra suspicious of Hyunjin.

"Jinnie! I think I found the one!" you cheered as you emerged from the dressing room.

"My Queen, you look stunning!" he complimented, genuinely pleased. "I really like it."

"Then we should get it!"

As you changed, Hyunjin couldn't help but notice the manager staring at him. His paranoia growing, and despite your conversation from the dressing room, his mind wandered. "Something is wrong," he whispered to himself.

He was lost in a battle, tuning out everything around him. The struggle was evident, muttering phrases like "don't take her" until he snapped back to reality, facing a concerned policeman.

"Are you alright?" the officer asked with a raised brow.

"Why wouldn't I be alright? I'm just shopping with my fiancée!" Hyunjin laughed nervously, dismissing any suspicion.

The officer, however, mentioned a report of shady business and a potential missing person.

“Shady?? What do you mean?”

“I mean… you seem to be keeping a really close eye on your ‘fiancée’ and she looks like someone from a missing persons report.”

“Missing?! She’s not missing!”

“Well, not to you, obviously.

“She’s not missing.” He repeated.

“I’ll speak to her—”

“No!” Hyunjin snapped.

“What’s going on?” You said while poking your head out.

“Nothing, my love. Ignore it.”

“No, ma’am.” The cop said while walking up to you. “I just had a question.”

“Oh, okay?” You nodded awkwardly.

“I believe you’re on a missing persons report.”

“She’s not missing!” Hyunjin yelled.”

“Are you here willingly?” The cop said with a sigh.

“What? Of course I’m here willingly! I love Hyunjin!” You say quickly. “We’re gonna get married!”

“Okay. But were you kidnapped or—?”

“Kidnapped?!” You interrupted. “You have this all wrong. Hyunjin saved me. He brought me back to the castle.

“Are you sure?”

“He’s the love of my life! No one loves me like he does.” You say with a smile while looking at Hyunjin who was standing there nervously.

As he questioned you, Hyunjin grew defensive, insisting you weren't missing. The officer wanted to speak with you alone, but you refused,

“Alright, I just want to make sure.” The officer nodded. He was still a bit suspicious

“Ma’am are you sure you wouldnt you like to step to the side for a recorded statement? Maybe to the police station?”

“And leave Hyunjin?” You said with a frown while going to and hugging hyunjin’s arm. “No it’s not safe!”

“It’s the police station, you’ll be—”

“She doesn’t want to go with you.” Hyunjin interrupted.

“I’m sorry, officer but I don’t wanna go. I have to stay with Jinnie and finish getting ready for our wedding.”

The cop frowned, He was 100% you were the missing person but knows that there’s nothing he could do as you were an adult. He apologized and left you guys alone, writing down some notes.

The officer was still suspicious as he left and Hyunjin held you tight. “I told you it was dangerous out here! We must go home!”

You agreed, ready to pay and leave as soon as possible.

On the drive home, you discussed wedding plans, and Hyunjin marveled at your excitement, relieved to be away from the dangers outside the castle.

After returning home, Hyunjin helped you relax before a late dinner. As you sat down, you couldn't shake off the curiosity about the policeman's intentions.

"Jinnie?" you asked.

"Yes, my love?" Hyunjin replied.

"Why did that policeman want me to go with him?"

"Probably to steal you away," he sighed, "and lock you up."

"Why would he do that?"

"There are crazy and dangerous people out there. That's why you must stay here with me."

"Okay," you smiled. "Thank you for protecting me."

~~~~~ 👑

A month passed, and the day of the wedding arrived. The outdoor venue was adorned with your favorite colors and decorations. A priest stood at the altar, ready to officiate the ceremony.

Your friend Jihyo assisted you in getting ready, doing your makeup and hair. As you admired yourself in the mirror, Jihyo struck up a conversation.

"Y/n, are you sure about this..."

"Yes," you smiled, looking back at her.

Jihyo sighed. "Well, are you happy? Genuinely?"

"Mmhm, I am," you replied.

"Okay," Jihyo sighed, knowing there was nothing more she could do. As your friend, she wished for your happiness, and she'd be there if you.

"Y/n, I'm happy for you. If you ever need anything, I'm always here for you. Come see me if you need anything."

You gave your friend a hug, and with that, Jihyo ushered you towards the aisle, where Hyunjin awaited. Tears formed in your eyes as you nodded, ready to marry the love of your life.

As the ceremony unfolded, the music played, your heart was racing. Walking down the aisle, you felt overwhelming joy. Marrying Hyunjin meant spending the rest of your life with the one you love, and that prospect filled you with great happiness. This marked the beginning of the happiest day of your life.

#kpop #kpop x reader #fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x poc reader #stray kids yandere #yandere stray kids #skz yandere #yandere skz #hyunjin stray kids #yandere hyunjin #Yandere Hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x poc reader #skz hyunjin #skz hyunjin smut

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mrsparrasblog · 10 days

Text

You're losing me pt.6

TW: torture, mention of rape

prev part. first part

"I guess we need to talk, Johnny." You looked at him, and the incredible feeling of guilt consumed your stomach. How could you believe a random girl over Johnny?

"Yeah, I guess we need to hen." he said while rubbing the stubbles on his chin. The last week was the most chaotic in his life. He thought he had lost you for good, and when Kyle told him that crazy whore was in your apartment, it was over. That was a line he thought she wouldn't cross. You were a civilian, an innocent civilian who got into this shit because of him.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, hen."

Both of you apologized at the same time, getting a confused look out of each other. "What're you sorry for, Bonnie?"

"I believed her. I believed that you would cheat on me."

"I didn't explain it, did I?"

„No," he told the truth. He didn't deny anything, but you maybe still should have asked yourself if it was the truth. The guilt ate you alive.

"I'm sorry for getting that crazy bitch in your life; did she hurt you?" He took your hand in his, examining if any new bruise or scar was there.

"Physically no"

"Hen"

"I love you, Johnny, you know."

"Of course I know; I love you too."

"Do you want to tell me what really happened?"

He nodded and started to explain how he woke up and didn't know what happened, how he felt guilty and hated himself, how John took the fall for everything, how he realized that she raped him, how she accused him of raping her, and how she made him believe no one would ever believe him. How he wanted to tell you everything, and then that slag turned everything around, convincing him that no one would believe him, and finally how Simon believed him and how he opened up. Your heart broke into a million pieces hearing what she did to your poor Johnny.

“You didn't deserve that love.“

„I know I still feel dirty, you know." You knew the feeling all too well, but you didn't know right now what you could do to make it better, so you just took him in your arms, caressing the soft edges of his Mohawk. „You're not dirty, Johnny; her action doesn’t define you." You held Johnny the whole time while he was crying in your arms. —————————————————————————— This wasn’t the first time, neither for John nor Ghost, but it was never this personal. They had never had as much fun as this time. Ghost already pulled her on a chair, tying her wrists and legs, not giving a fuck about her pleas that it was too tight and hurting her; they were a long time over having any pity for her.

„We can make it quick or painful, your choice," John spoke, trying to appear as the good cop in this interrogation. His heart wanted to rip her apart in the most inhuman way possible, but first, he needed some information.

„I don't want to die, please. I only meant good." Simon didn't hesitate to slap her right across the face.

„Don't lie.“

„I didn't lie; you would be better off without her.“

„Bad mistake, Ghost doesn’t like when someone talks badly about our girl,“ John huffed, taking a drag on his cigar while sitting on a chair.

„What do you think, boss, should I cut a finger off or break her arm?“ She was panting heavily, the sweat already dripping down her neckline, while she only stared in horror at them. She begged and pleaded, but how many of her victims did it too? How many were even able to remember a thing?

„No, no Ghost we play nice just like her,“ John said with a grin, pulling out three pills from his pocket. Thankfully, the nurses on base didn't have a good opinion of the medic.

Ghost took the pills, putting them in front of her eyes. "Choose. "

„What are these?“ She knew, but her mind didn't want to comprehend what they wanted from her.

„I think the same one you used on me, the other is used for assisted death, and the third one I forgot something with internal bleeding.“

„They look the same.“

„Choose or I will make you choose." Before the medic argued, Ghost already had all three pills in his hand, pushing them into her mouth.

„I choose this one,“ her eyes watering as she pointed to the left pill. If she were, by any chance, smarter, she would have known she wouldn’t come out alive.

With trembling fingers, she pushed it down her throat. As she felt the numbness starting in her fingers, she couldn’t stop smiling. She made the right choice.

„They were all the same,“ John replied unapologetically. He didn't want to do this too messy; he only wanted the needed information and then would break her neck; he deserved the right after all.

„You bastard“ This earned another punch from Simon.

"Let's see how you like being paralyzed. Did you enjoy seeing your victims squirm in fear?“

„Please don't“

„Oh, afraid I'll rape you.“

„Don't worry, Ghost wouldn’t even rape you out of spite.“

„You're so pathetic. Do you need to drug people to get a lay? I bet you're already wet thinking about me touching you. Will only touch my girl.“

„We need to know with how many people you did that stunt?“

„Only you and Johnny, I swear.“

„You swear?“ John stood up, took his cigar, and flicked it close between her thighs, seeing how the heat burned her thighs closer to her core. “It isn't fun to be so helpless? Now tell me the truth.“

She cried and still denied the truth of the sick games she pulled over all these years: „Guess you didn't want the nice way, my turn cap." Ghost grumbled pulling out his favorite knife, a beautiful gift from you. He cherished dearly and he thought you should have had the right to partake in her downfall after all.

The burn of the cigar was long forgotten when Simon slowly craved letter after letter in her skin, taking slow movements as if he were performing in a calligraphy contest. Letter for letter, the red blood dried down on Simon's pale skin, the screams were like music in his ears. He finally had what he wanted: Revenge. He dreamt of it when he saw his father abusing his mother when he met Roba when he heard your past story, and now he finally got it. He could finally protect his loved ones.

„Beautiful, isn’t it, Cap?“

"You could improve your handwriting the letters are slacking a bit.“

„You're right, Captain, need to write a few rows more." After the fifth letter, she finally confessed.

„How many“

„I have a list on my phone,“ she cried while Ghost pulled out the phone, finding the list with her guidance. Ghost saw a lot of cruel things in his life, but the visuals on the list made him almost puke: several videos of abused unconscious men and women, their names, and the date all written under them—disgusting. When he saw the picture of Johnny, it was enough for him, and he snapped her neck.

„I'm sorry, Captain.“

„I would have done it if you weren’t faster.“

„What will we do about this?“

„The right thing.“

———————————————————————————— 1 year later

Johnny found peace after consulting a therapist for a year straight, with the support of his beautiful girlfriend and boyfriends. John and Ghost took the list and spoke with all the remaining victims, taking her life insurance money and splitting it amongst the victims. It was nothing that could redeem the situation. Still, they did everything so every one of her victims could afford and participate in the needed therapy, even spreading awareness of male SA survivors in the military with Laswell's help. Your relationship surprisingly grew stronger after the incident, and the bond and trust were only tighter. So here, where you cuddled in a big cuddle pile with your men and Winston, you were finally at peace again.

Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121

@thychuvaluswife @cutiecusp @blackhawkfanatic @spicyspicyliving @octopiys

A/N: wrote this half asleep so sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes Im not the best at writing torture Im more of an angst girly hope you still enjoyed it.

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

A/N 2: Don't read further if you don't want to know anything about the author

So sorry that I posted this Chapter 1 month after the last, my last month was kinda weird. Had a theoretical final exam(passed with an A and an B) , lots of interviews- but hey I got one thing (not my dream thingy but still good), had lots of stress at work and unregular plans like one day night the next early :( So it took a lot of motivation to finally finish this and get back into writing regularly.

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esmedelacroix · 8 months

Text

Coffee Shop Love Pt.3

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, so much fluff, implied age gap, a teeny smidge of angst, suggestive

author's note: Hi lovies, third part! I'm so happy you all like this series! I really like writing it. Please let me know what you all liked its really helpful! Enjoy...

word count: 1.5k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

The next morning you got up and got ready to start baking for the morning rush. By the time you got down to the shop your two employees were already baking the muffins and cakes. You said hello and went over the menu for the day. You then started preparing lunch menu ingredients.

Just when you had finished the morning preparation and opened up. You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. Which was weird because no one ever texted you in the morning. You took your phone out and stared at the message that awaited you.

Miguel: Hey could you make my coffee in advance? I'm running late today...

You: Of course, hurry!

Miguel: Maybe sneak a lil muffin in there...?

You: Sugar? Am I speaking to Miguel or an imposter?

Miguel: 😡

You smiled down at your phone. You had texted Miguel last night for a while before going to bed. Older people using emojis always cracks me up. You thought to yourself. You put your phone back in your pocket and made his order. While the morning rush built up to its usual catastrophic storm of angry city folk. Mr. Smith picked up his order and his rent, just when the morning rush was at peak catastrophe and the line was going out of the shop, you saw Miguel pull up to the sidewalk and step out of his car.

You put on your scarf and earmuffs, along with a puffer jacket and gloves before heading outside. If there was one bad thing about you, it's that you were practically allergic to cold weather. You rushed out to Miguel who was leaning against his car. "Hey, I came as fast as I could," you huffed out smiling at him.

"Thank you, Baby—you look warm," he teased. He noticed the way your eyes watered when gusts of wind carried snow. How the snowflakes fell on nose and eyelashes. The way your nose turned a slight shade of pink, he could already guess that if you didn't have those earmuffs on, your little ears would be pink too. Even though you were wrapped in the warmest clothes, you still looked so chilly Miguel was resisting the urge to wrap his arms around you and warm you up properly himself.

"I'm so sensitive to the cold, my hands and feet are always cold," you explained as you held his drink out to him as well as a little brown paper bag. "I packed you a lemon poppyseed muffin, something tells me you'll enjoy it," you said.

"Hmm, I let you know," he hummed looking away. He was obviously a bit embarrassed to be enjoying baked goods. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head.

"Get inside Baby, or you might freeze right where you stand," Miguel chuckled as he ushered you back into the shop.

You waved goodbye and entered the battlefield of morning brews and muffins. It was a long day but you looked forward to the clock finally striking 9 p.m. because you knew Miguel would walk in, probably get stuck in the mistletoe, and say hello.

So he had walked through the door into the empty shop and got caught in the mistletoe while accidentally knocked over the yuletide, your night was finally complete. You never would have thought that a man as intimidating as Miguel would also be so clumsy. But it wasn't his fault that he was incredibly tall and monstrously muscular.

"Miguel, can you stop trashing my shop?" you teased as you walked around the counter to fix your holiday decor. Just when you have adjusted the yuletide, his broad shoulder bumped into a bell and it fell as well.

"Great, now you're throwing stuff at me," you joked giggling at his clumsiness.

"Oh stop it," Miguel said rolling his eyes. The both of you were so lost in the moment of laughter and bliss that you didn't realize that you were standing at the entrance of the store. You both realized and looked above you to see the mistletoe, you felt the heat rise from your chest to your face all the way to your ears.

You had never been this close to Miguel so you never realized that his eyes which you thought were mahogany brown had a slight hint of ruby in them. They were both whiskey and wine while simultaneously being black coffee and velvet cake.

He smelled like sandalwood, vallina, musk, roses, and cedarwood. In short, he smelled better than sex. His scent drugged you and kept you in his trance while swimming in his eyes. You stared at each other far too long for it to be nothing. You finally broke the tension by clearing your throat. "It's too bad you don't believe in Christmas, I'm a really good kisser," you said as you began to walk back around the counter, hoping that he didn't notice how nervous you were. He walked up to the counter visibly not over what had just happened.

"Well, who said I don't believe in Christmas?" he asked.

"I said I haven't celebrated in a while," he explained correcting you.

"Are you just saying that because you want a smooch? So needy," you said shaking your head at him. You handed him his coffee, which you already started to make. Your question made him blush a bit. Cute.

"Don't worry you don't have to answer that question, but you have to tell me if you liked the muffin I made you," you asked with a shy smile.

"It was actually really good. But don't take that wrong way, I still don't like sweet things," he said.

"Yeah sure, anyway I'm going to drop the extras off at the homeless shelter down the road if you want to tag along?" you suggested

"Okay, I don't really have much to do," he replied rubbing the back of his neck.

You were partially asking so he could help load the stuff into your car. How could he blame you? He didn't have all that muscle for nothing. As you both got in the car and drove the short drive to the shelter, you sparked a bit of conversation. "So, I've never seen you around the area, did you just move here?" you asked.

"I moved recently, I actually work at Alchemax, it's not too far away," he explained. You let out an impressed hum.

"Ohh snazzy, what do you do there?" you asked as you taped the wheel rhythmically to the Frank Sinatra Christmas song playing in the background.

"I'm a geneticist," he answered.

"Yeah, I don't know what that is, but I was born and raised here," she said as Miguel laughed at her earlier comment.

"Tell me more," Miguel said under stifled laughter.

"The coffee shop is kind of a family heirloom if you will, it's been around for decades. Naturally, I followed in my parents' footsteps and went to culinary school. But my parents passed away a while ago so I couldn't finish school," she explained.

"Well, I'm sure your parents would be proud. I think you have this coffee thing down to a T," he said, making you smile like an idiot.

"Thank you, Miguel, that means a lot," you said as you pulled up to the shelter. You both got the stuff out of the trunk. You walked in and took it to the front desk where your best friend Estella was. "Hey, Baby—oh? Who's this? Boyfriend? Hookup?" she asked while sizing him up and giving you a nod of approval.

"This is Miguel and um, he's my uh—" you started trying to find the words.

"We're friends," he answered simply. Estella still looked at us suspiciously before letting the volunteers take the goods off our hands.

"Well you two have a great night, and Miguel, she may not look like it but, she likes it rough," Estella teased throwing a wink at Miguel.

"Oh my god, Estella!" you groaned as you walked out with Miguel and got back into the car. The ride was silent until he said, "Rough huh?"

"Please forget she said that," you said smiling sheepishly at the revelation.

"Oh, so you're not going to deny it?" he asked.

"Well, why deny it when it's true?" you said accepting the shame.

You had parked and looked over at his face for a reaction to this information. But nothing, you couldn't read his expression. The two of you spent the rest of the night chatting it up about everything under the sun(or moon). You have learned so much about Miguel.

You learned that he has a brother named Gabriel, his favorite color is red, he prefers chocolate over gummies(wrong opinion), and he absolutely has to keep eye contact when speaking with someone.

As you both continued to bond over Christmas cookies and brews, your moment was interrupted by a buzz from both of your phones. It was an amber alert that read:

[Blizzard Warning! This area til 9:00 PM EST Mon. All citizens must stay indoors. All roads closed]

Next... Pt.4

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@amber-content

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twstfanblog · 9 months

Text

*~Period Drama~* Sunday

A/N: SCREAMS. Ok, sorry. It's been a hard time getting this out and for no reason. I literally had it like 80% done this whole time and the last 20% got lost in the damn mail I guess. But now it's done and out for the masses to enjoy! A thank you to @bun-lapin for allowing me to use their lovely OC for this fic! Word Count: 7.5K (God Damn...) Warnings: Period Talk (Like most of this is just various period facts and it lowkey gets pretty horrifying near the end), She/They Pronouns OC Pairings: AzulxOC (Poly), JamilxOC (Poly), Paternal Crewel &OC, Alluded to Riddle/Floyd Now with a tag-list! @twistedcece, @deltrea, @krenenbaker Start, Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Here). Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt.2), Part 6 (Pomefiore)

"Sorry again for bleeding on your pants."

Yuu stood in their dorm’s entrance hallway, Azul at the door with his ruined slacks in hand and wearing a pair of sweats borrowed from Yuu.

Azul had spent the night after Crewel’s brief lecture. The fur-wearing teacher had given Yuu another pain relief potion before leaving, stating he was going to get something longer-lasting for them by tomorrow. Azul had elected to stay, acting as emotional support and bringing Yuu whatever they needed from elsewhere in the house.

"No issue, my pearl. The twins have ruined more than one outfit for me, a little blood isn't the end of the world." He mutters under his breath, looking at the sweatpants with a pinched expression. But he turns to smile at them, “I’m only sorry that I can’t stay with you longer. But, I’ve already missed one productive day at the lounge, and I fear what will happen if I miss another. Let alone leave Jade and Floyd to their own devices any longer…”

"So what do I owe you for the emotional turmoil then?" Yuu smiles lazily, eyes lidded as they watch Azul place a hand over his chest.

"Why I could never ask for anything in return. You're in such a delicate position, it'd be cruel to give you a payment plan now for all the distress you've caused me this past week…"

So, she was going to be ambushed with a 'payment plan' once her period was over.

Smirking, they tilt their head, a finger poking into their cheek, "So, can I start making those payments before the interest gets too high?"

Azul sighs, pouting and shaking his head with his eyes closed, "Honestly. I try to be benevolent and you throw it back in my face. Such cruelty…" he opens an eye, a smile almost leaning into a smirk, "But payment in kisses is always accepted with you."

"Suave" Yuu leans closer, peppering kisses against Azul’s reddening cheeks before going for the kill on his lips. The two sets molded together, Yuu holding him by his jaw as her tongue slid into his mouth, tasting his moans as his hands shakingly reached toward her hips. Pulling away, they giggle at seeing Azul catch his balance on the wall, "Have fun at the lounge. Call me when you can squeeze in a break."

Still dizzy from the kiss, Azul nodded, free hand fumbling for the doorknob behind him, "W-will do. Please don't overdo it when no one is here. Love you." He barely escaped, losing his composer and stumbling away just as he closed the door behind him. Yuu was always physically affectionate, but she was downright merciless if he ever blushed in front of her.

Yuu sighs, deciding to finally check their phone in bed…maybe they’ll just grab more towels from the hallway closet. Laying on the couch closer to the kitchen would be the smarter idea. They huff, pulling out more towels and piling them in their arms. They really needed to find something to act comfortably enough like a pad or tampon, free bleeding was too messy in the long run.

Once the couch was prepped with towels, they laid down to rest under their cozy throw blanket until Crewel appeared to check on them. They clicked their phone on and almost choked at the number of notifications. At least 300 texts, 47 missed calls, and various social media @'s in an effort to reach them. They had to fight back the tears, emotions swelling at the idea of just how cared for they were in this world. Once their nerves were settled, they went to ground zero.

Their group chat with the 'Firstie Squad' was where most of the texts were. Ace first stated that someone had assaulted them. From there chaos descended. Jack demanded to know if Ace was joking, because if so it wasn't funny in the slightest. Epel chimed in that there was no way anyone overpowered them and got away alive. Ace snapped at both of them what he saw, pointing out how odd they'd been behaving the week prior. Sebek finally chimed in, only typing to ask whether Ace was sure.

Once Ace rementioned the bloody vagina mess the whole chat might as well as caught on fire. Jack seemed to disappear, Epel followed quickly after dropping several swears and threats into the chat about the would-be aggressor. Sebek stuck around the longest, talking with Ace to get information and make a game plan. Ortho sent a single link on helping a loved one who had been assaulted. But, knowing the living droid, he had probably combed every camera at his disposal to try and catch whoever did such a crime.

Nearly an hour later Deuce had finally entered the chat, full caps stating that they were okay and then yelling at Ace. He scolded him for blabbing when Crewel just told them to keep quiet. From there new, familiar chaos took over, a normal back and forth whenever Ace and Deuce started fighting over text.

The other stray texts were from the housewardens, mainly asking why their respective firsties were acting so odd. A few more texts asking if they were okay, noting how angry they've been the past few days. Surprisingly, only two texts were from Jamil. One was a photo of a teary-eyed Grim being held like a baby by Kalim in the background, crumbs on his over-stuffed cheeks and Kalim flashing a peace sign. Mildly blurry in the corner of the photo was the side of Jamil’s face, a half-in-frame peace sign hiding his mouth. The simple message attached, ‘Grim is fed and being held. Love you’

Yuu smiles, sending him a quick message before replying to the other texts, making sure to send Ace several middle finger and a single heart emoji. She groans, seeing a few texts from Vil. But looking closer, she sees most of the missed calls were from Vil, maybe she should call him…

Listening through a few of the voicemails, Yuu notes how calm Vil sounded in the first recording. The blonde only asked how their day was and if they were still on for their movie night. The next few voicemails slowly increased in panic, the last one being a chaotic audio of Epel wailing in the background. Rook trying to either comfort or hold the country boy back while Vil yelled into the phone, “You better be dead when I find you, or so help me you’re going to be for making me worry like this!”

Yuu personally made sure to save that voicemail. It was rare to hear such emotion from Vil Shoenheit without having paid him an insane amount of money and hours of makeup and hair styling. Should Crowley try to withhold their allowance, they had a nice little nest egg to sell.

Soon, Yuu heard the front door swing open, the wood slamming against the wall and no doubt deepening the dent that was already there. Crewel really needed to announce himself at all times when he was annoyed. Yuu doesn’t rise from the couch, instead letting out a high-pitched yip to let him know where in the house they were. Hearing the click of the adult's shoes, Yuu waves over the side of the couch, “Sup, papa dog.”

“Hello, puppy.” Crewel leans over the back of the couch, his gloved hand petting her head and pressing a kiss to her hair, “How are you feeling?”

“Like bloody dirt.”

“Hmm.” Crewel drops a bag onto their stomach, the warmth and smell of it giving away that it was a take-out box of food, “Breakfast from your eels. You’ll need to eat it before you take this pain potion.”

Yuu smiles, pulling the food out and digging in. Mid chew, they raise an eyebrow, “Why’s this potion different? I normally take them without food all the time.” They watch Crewel pull out a flask, but instead of the normal green-colored syrup, it was a bright cyan. The bottle itself had a warning tag on the glass, “What the fuck is that?”

“This, puppy, is a medical-grade pain potion. While I am able to brew anything, it’d be illegal for me to brew something of this strength without proper licensing. So, I tasked Ms.Oster with making a few for you.”

The distrust Yuu had instantly faded, reaching out for the flask with a smile, “Oh, I love Ms.Oster.”

Crewel pulls the bottle from their reach, playfully sneering down at them, “Yeah, I know.”

Ingrid Oster was one of the science professors under Crewel’s direction in the school. She mainly taught practical magic and magical first aid. Even though Yuu had no reason to even know the woman as a first year, they had managed to meet and we’re now teacher/student ‘besties’, something that deeply annoyed Crewel. The number of times the bi-colored man had walked into the staff room only to see the two of them having a luncheon and gossiping about other students. Not to mention Ingrid only upped her teasing, telling Crewel that he wears the ‘dad look’ very well.

Crewel demanded they finish their food before letting them even touch the bottle. The teacher explained how a medical-grade pain potion had a much stronger effect than the standard potion. It lasted for nearly a whole day instead of 4-6 hours, not to mention how it worked. Instead of simply numbing the nerves to give pain relief, a medical-grade pain potion targeted the muscle system, physically relieving tension and letting the fibers relax. As such, they were very rarely used outside of hospitals, but Crewel didn’t feel comfortable having Yuu drink possibly more than two potions a day.

Once Yuu was done eating, Crewel held up a finger, making sure he had their attention, “Don’t drink all of this like a normal potion. This is much stronger than that so I want you to sip. Understand? Sip.”

Yuu sighed, making a grabby hand motion until Crewel handed the flask over, noting how it still felt a bit warm through the glass under their fingers. Uncorking the bottle they make sure to sip the liquid as loudly as possible. Pulling it away and smiling at Crewel’s annoyed look, “Sip.”

“Enough of the sass or I won’t be sending you lunch.” Crewel collected the trash, throwing it away for them in the kitchen before walking back into the lounge, “Ortho hasn’t answered me yet about any of his findings. But, then again I think you actually managed to traumatize the poor boy. Until then, you’re sadly on house arrest, puppy. Invite who you wish, but you shouldn't roam campus how you like.”

“Fine…” Yuu slumped back onto the couch, pouting but feeling better as the potion started to take a mild effect. They do send a smile as Crewel ruffles their hair.

Crewel reminds them once more to not drink the whole bottle, Sip, giving their head another kiss before he left. As much as he’d want to stick around to make sure his favorite pup was taken care of, he was a very busy teacher and he had lesson plans to prepare for tomorrow.

The second Crewel had slammed their front door closed, they uncorked the flask again and drank the whole potion. They’d rather just deal with the full effect of the potion in one sitting instead of having to sip for hours on end or wake up from a surprise nap in pain. Crewel would understand if he came back and Yuu was in some type of medically induced coma.

Lunch rolled around, and along with it came three steady, loud knocks on the front door. Yuu blearily blinked their eyes open, yep, they passed out on the couch. Luckily they didn’t roll onto their phone, checking the time and messages before another three knocks rang out. As before, Yuu lets out a loud —bird-adjacent— call, their universal sign of approval. She giggles lightly, hearing Ace and Deuce return the call when they open the door, the sound of Riddle scolding them for making 'nonsense noises' without permission.

The Heartslabyul crew all walked into the lounge, each in casual clothing and a different level of uneasiness but smiling all the same. Cater was in the back, phone held nervously with both hands as he gave a wary eye at their prone form. Trey was calm as normal, holding a picnic basket in hand. Ace and Deuce were already in front of them, leaning down and annoying her mildly. Mainly Ace, the redhead poking at her stomach asking if she was still bleeding. Deuce hissed at him to stop, ‘What if you poke them so hard they bleed more?’

Riddle stood with an extra type of rigidity in his stance, the only give that he was uncomfortable. Even with his medical knowledge, he always found blood to be a deeply uncomfortable topic. But, he was willing to face his apprehension if it was for his younger classmate's benefit. Walking closer, Riddle clears his throat before speaking, “Apologies, Yuu. We’ve visited without a prior invite or call, but due to recent events I believe we can have a pass on that rule for now…”

Cater nods his head, but still refusing to get closer, “We were totes worried about you, sweetie. Plus the ADeuce duo over here wasn’t making things better by vague ranting in the dorm…”

The two freshmen glare over their shoulder’s at Cater. They had returned to the dorm yelling at each other the day prior, a common occurrence. What peaked the upperclassmen’s worry was the dubious context of their argument and their silence when Riddle demanded to know what had happened.

Yuu smiles, blinky slowly, still half asleep from their nap, “Sorry. In fairness I wasn’t expecting it to happen, so I was really unprepared.” Cater actually had a more familiar reaction, something Yuu wasn’t aware that she missed. The mild fear from boys the second periods were mentioned, skirting around but still ready to help out because they knew they were in danger.

Trey chuckles, looking at Cater’s nervous self from the corner of his eye. Holding up the basket he taps it lightly, “We brought you some croissants, freshly baked this morning. I can even make you a sandwich with fixings of your choice.” He wouldn’t mention the hastily compiled ‘survival guide’ Jade had sent him last night. The main point being that favored food seemed to be the only thing to keep Yuu in a relatively calm state.

“I just woke up, don’t give me choices…” Yuu whined lightly, curling into the couch but still muttered out, “You know I like croissants savory or sweet, surprise me. And thanks for bringing me lunch.”

“No problem, Yuu. I heard from Crewel you were on house arrest. So to ease his workload we’ll be watching you for the day.” He starts to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll get to making you something to eat.”

“And I’ll help him! Bye, sweetie!” Cater hurried after Trey, seeing an opportunity to run and taking it.

Ace sighed, standing up straight, “Jeeze, you’re such trouble…You can’t even be bothered to sit up while you talk to us?”

“Don’t bully them, Ace! They’re in pain!” Deuce sputters, turning to Yuu with a worried, “Wait are you still in pain, should we have brought you a potion?”

Yuu waves him off lightly, slowly patting him on the face until the worried pout loosens, “Don’t worry. Crewel brought me breakfast and a pain potion. I’m as…chill as a…cold thing…Yeah…”

“You’re still half asleep is what you are…” Ace mutters quietly, rubbing the back of his head before he looks up. He looks back down, a smirk on his face, “But, since I’m such a good friend, I’ll help around since you’re too useless to do it right now.” Waving he starts to walk toward the stairs, “I’ll go clean your room.”

Deuce jumps up, growling under his breath before he follows Ace, “You’re not slick! I know you’re just gonna nap up there! Just because Yuu isn’t using their bed, doesn’t mean you get to laze around in it!” He had run out of the room after the fleeing redhead, only to rush back in. Kneeling down he gathers Yuu into his arms in a quick hug, “Glad you’re ok, Yuu.”

“Aw…Thanks, buddy.”

Deuce releases them, running back to the stairs and his yelling fading the farther he gets.

In the silence, Yuu drifted between half asleep and simply staring into the air. They probably shouldn’t have taken the whole potion, but they’d never admit to Crewel being right. Not after they deliberately disobeyed him. While studying their hand in the open air, they notice Riddle had stayed in the room, looking more and more conflicted, “...You ok?”

“...” Riddle shifted nervously, looking to the side before he walked closer. Crouching down, he whispered, almost in fear of anyone else hearing him, “Are you really bleeding from your…vagina?”

“...” She wasn’t going to laugh, she refused to laugh. Not when Riddle was looking at them so concerned. He didn’t deserve that. She didn’t know if her face stayed straight or betrayed just how hard she was trying to not laugh, but she reached out to pat Riddle on the head, “I am…but it’s fine. Other than cramps, this doesn’t actually hurt me. No need to be all worried…”

That seemed to be enough for Riddle, the 2nd year letting out a sigh of relief before he stood back to his full height, “In that case, would you allow me to interview you?”

“Interview?”

With a wave of his pen, a notebook appeared in his hands, “You are a biological alien to us, though we seem to forget that at times… Such functions don’t happen to the people of Twisted Wonderland, it’d be any researcher's dream to study it.” Coughing into his fist he calms himself, “But, I understand if you are uncomfortable with such a thing. I only thought it’d be good to get the facts documented should something similar happen again.”

Yuu chuckles, seeing how eager Riddle was. One thing Yuu knew about Riddle, was that he loved puzzles. Researching a new topic with little information was a blind puzzle to him and he dived into research like it was a water slide. Sure he was trying to curb his enthusiasm since they were affected by an ‘alien illness’, but he just couldn’t stop how excited he was.

“I don’t mind, Riddle.”

Riddle’s nervous energy instantly passes, smiling at them before he flips the notebook open. Sitting in front of their legs on the couch, he clicked his wand to uncap the pen, “Perfect! Now, what is happening in broad terms?”

“Pussy peeling.”

Riddle sighed so hard that Yuu was worried he’d fall over dead from lack of air, “Yuu...You know I dislike that word, I’m begging you.”

Yuu giggles, a leg moving to lightly push against Riddle’s back before calming down, “I’m sorry…My Vagina is peeling, liquifying the scraps and then forcing it out of my body.”

Riddle looked ill, but I kept writing, “That sounds horrific…”

“Oh, it is.”

“What function does this process serve?”

“Baby room reno.”

“...What?”

Yuu groaned, head falling back against the armrest, trying to figure out an easier way to explain. Snapping their fingers, they point toward Riddle, “My pussy is replacing the wallpaper.”

“In no way…does that help me.”

“Aaaaaokay. Imagine your hormones, like, spend the whole month decorating a nursery. But, turns out there’s no baby. So the hormones throw a fit and decided to redo the nursery for next month. Hence…” Yuu smiles, gesturing to their stomach, “Replacing the wallpaper.”

Riddle wrote down the long-winded analogy, making sure to circle ‘Wallpaper replacement’ with a question mark beside it, “And this is normal in your world?”

“Sadly. Girls get their first period sometimes at like… 8 years old or younger.”

“Why!? That just…What is the purpose of it? I assumed this was a feature from birth, not something you just…wake up to.”

“Oh, it’s a sign that your body can make babies. It’s a hormonal change that comes packaged with puberty.”

Riddle stops writing, “You said some girls get this at 8 years old?”

“Yeah…though it’s more common around like 12 or 13. My friend got her’s when she was like 9 and she said she freaked out so hard. Her mom hadn’t had the, like, talk with her yet. So she just bled everywhere and tried to hide it.” Yuu kept rambling, recounting the stories her old friend group had shared about their first period horror stories, missing Riddle’s own dawning horror.

Yuu normally talked fondly of their old world. Funny stories with friends, and pleasant memories with their grandparents (Yuu never claimed to be an orphan. Had stated that both her parents were alive as far as she knew. She never shared a happy memory about them though). But sometimes the things they said worried them. The violence, the discrimination, the constant fear some people had to live in. The fact the people in charge would rather let their workforces starve than simply give them the rightful money earned (That bit of knowledge had even made Azul uncomfortable for a time). And now he hears that girls were ready to carry and birth children biologically? Girls, children. He’s praying that it wasn’t okay for girls so young to be engaging in such…activities, but the fact their bodies went through such a change at that age horrified him.

And a selfish part whispered that he was glad Yuu had managed to escape such a place.

Riddle manages to shake himself free of his spiraling thoughts, catching the end of Yuu's rambles.

"-And then my friend Tracy got her's in the middle of a ballet recital and she, like, bled all over the stage. Apparently, one girl was staring the whole time and tripped because of it." Yuu laughs, the sound coming out mildly choked, “Lisa…Lisa has like 3 older sisters, okay? They all got their period on the same day, so their house was super tense. Then poor lil Lisa comes out of her room crying holding her bloody bedsheet and everyone starts crying.”

Riddle looks at Yuu in worry from the corner of his eye, writing down more questions to review with Jade, “All of them at once? Would that be considered rare?” Was a period something like an overblot? The symptoms seemed to match…

“Naw, it’s common pussy ping, happens to the best of us.”

“One, stop saying that word. Two, a common what?”

Yuu nodded their head in a sage manner, eyes already drifting around the room again, “Yeah, pussy ping. It’s when you, like, sync up with other vaginas.”

“...” Riddle turns to Yuu, eyes wide in horror, “Sync up? As in��if someone’s period has started…”

“Yep.” Yuu smiles, making vague hand gestures, “If you spend enough time with another vagina, they send wifi signals to each other and sync up the calendars so that their hosts start on the same day.”

“I-Their hosts?” So a period was like an overblot. An extremely dangerous one at that if they were able to induce overblots in others simply by being around them long enough. The very thought of his own overblot resulting in the others…

“Oh yeah. The pussy is a dangerous thing. It’s acidic and can influence other vaginas to rebel.” “Wait, it’s acidic!?”

“Oh, yeah.” Yuu stretched, back popping as they sat up to look at Riddle directly, “I guess some stuff doesn’t carry over then. Yeah, my pussy is mildly acidic.”

Riddle looks down to Yuu’s covered lap, eyes panicked, “Is that healthy?” “Yeah. If your pussy juice can bleach your underwear over time, your pussy bacteria is healthy.”

Acidic was healthy. Riddle cared about Yuu, he truly did. She was like a sibling his younger self would have desperately needed to be a reason to think of how his actions affect those around him and to physically slap him for going too far. But every time he spoke to them about their natural state, he just felt intense concern. Things Yuu would joke about only made him realize that depression wore many faces, and that fact only made his worry expand to others in his dorm. Clearing his throat, Riddle edged just slightly away from Yuu’s lower anatomy, “Do you need to clean it out with soap or-”

Yuu was leaned against the back of the couch in a daze, cheek pressed into the fabric before shooting up and cutting Riddle off, “No. Nothing but clean water can go into the pussy. If you put any kinda cleaner up there it will anger the blood goddess and she will curse you and your pussy with dryness and wheat…yeast infections.”

“I- The blood goddess? You said your world didn’t have magic, who is this blood goddess!?”

“The Moon.”

…

“The…The Moon?”

“The moon controls the blood tides and demands her daughters pay for the sins of old…”

Riddle wrote down the new information, eyes wide, “Ok, let’s change the subject.”

Yuu nods, head lulling back to rest against the couch, “Periods are like…insane. Girls only like talking about them because it makes everyone else terrified.”

“I can see why…But with this affecting possibly 50% of the population, you must have had a class about it? Do you remember anything you could tell me?”

“No.”

“...No?”

“I don’t remember.”

Riddle sighs, looking at Yuu with a stern frown, “Yuu this would be much easier if you would cooperate with me-”

“No, really I don’t remember. We had the ‘puberty talk’ when I was, like, in 5th grade. We don’t review that shit until we get to Sex-Ed and I didn’t have that class yet.”

“...That sounds incredibly negligent and poorly thought out.”

“You could also opt your kid out because you don’t want them learning about sex.”

“What-”

“Those were the kids who normally end up pregnant, funny enough.”

“Childhood pregnancy isn’t funny, Yuu.”

Yuu giggled, nudging at Riddle’s back with her knee, only stopping when the 2nd year forcibly shoved her knee away from him, “It’s kinda funny. At least to laugh at the parent's stupidity, you know?”

“You’re laughing at a child getting pregnant…” Please don’t let that be a common occurrence in Yuu's world, “But, You are sexually active, aren’t you? How is that so if you’ve never had Sex-Ed?”

“The fuck kind of question is that? You’re the ghost of a sickly Victorian child who never lived to take The Dangers of Spices 101, how are you fucking Floyd?”

“It’s mandatory of Twisted Wonderland home school curriculum to teach a basic Sex-Ed course at the middle school level and you don’t need to know the details of my personal life.”

“Oh god, you had Sex-Ed with your mom.”

“Yuu-”

She waves his tone off, not at all bothered by his reddening face, “I learned from my friends. Honestly, I didn’t even know how a tampon worked until we had to make a midnight run at a sleepover one night.”

“Tampons…” Riddle writes it down, ensuring the page had plenty of space, “That’s a new term. What is it?” Jade’s notes hadn’t mentioned a ‘tampon’.

“Cotton you shove up your pussy to soak up the blood. Most of my friends used those but me and another gal named Rue liked pads better.”

Riddle nods, writing down the second word. He had heard of pads from Jade’s shared notes, and also from being manhandled by Sam’s shadows in his search for information. “I'm guessing a pad is also like a tampon, but less…invasive?”

“Yeah.” Yuu yawns, seeming to realize just how full of cotton her head was even when awake, “Though that’s mainly because I heard about what the fuck Toxic Shock was and it scared me enough to not want to use them.”

“I’m sorry, Toxic Shock? You couldn’t lead with that!?”

“Oh, right. This is like common knowledge for me so I don’t really care about it. But, Toxic Shock Syndrome is like…something that could happen if you use tampons. But it’s like super rare, to the point if you got it from a tampon? You left that thing in there for days and you deserve it because that’s just gross.”

Ok, that…that was calming at least. He wrote the new information under the Tampon page. As far as he was concerned Yuu had made a good decision, ‘Tampons’ sounded nothing but dangerous. Though Yuu had stated most of their friends preferred to use them. Maybe there was a proper method to using them that Yuu didn’t care to learn (Which honestly fit them). He reviews his notes briefly, frowning at how most of the information was concerning, “Your reproductive health is surprisingly delicate.”

“Oh, you have no idea. I could have cancer honestly.”

“What!?”

“The female anatomy is a hellscape. I could be dying right now but the cramps basically overshadow everything.” Yuu laughs, picking at her nails absent-mindedly, “There’s plenty of people who’ve, like, died from actual internal damage but they just thought it was their periods- W-whoa, Riddle are you crying?”

“No, I’m panicking!” Riddle scrambled off the couch, lifting the blanket to check Yuu directly. Or he would have if the sight of blood smeared across their inner thighs didn’t make his head swirl. The blanket drops from his hands, turning away and managing to catch himself onto his hands and knees as he dry heaved, “By the Seven, is there supposed to be that much blood!?”

“...” Yuu watches him in mild concern. But seeing how the 2nd year didn’t actually start vomiting they answered, “I think so? I might be flowing heavy since I haven’t had one in a while…”

Riddle wiped at his forehead, taking slow breaths as he stood back up, eyes roaming the floor for his dropped pen and notebook, “Heavy flow? As in the flow can change pressure? Consistency?”

“Yeah, those are words to describe it, I guess.” Yuu shrugs, head turning in the direction of the kitchen. Were Trey and Cater making the jam from scratch? What was taking the two of them so long? Looking back at Riddle, Yuu shrugs again, “To be honest I have… no idea what normal is. Honestly, no one in my world really did.” “How?”

“Dude, people were fucking terrified of periods. Before I got here? They were just now actually, like, testing pads and tampons with shit that wasn't water. Aka, not the right cunt-sistency of periods.”

Riddle gripped at his chest. The lack of common sense was baffling. These were the people in charge of that world, half the population was suffering from this illness and they couldn’t even test their sanitation products correctly, “Oh my Seven…”

“Some places were trying to ban talking about them in school, so fuck what shitty health class we had in the first place. Plus, periods can get weird, you know. Sometimes, you can like…bleed from other places.”

“What.”

“Yeah, like, from your butt or your eyes,” Yuu’s head rolls along the back of the couch, laughing as a memory resurfaces, “My friend, Chel, told us her cousin’s all came out in one piece once.”

Riddle dry heaved, stumbling back and coughing as the mental image started to form, “Trey…” He called out weakly. He was going to pass out, or vomit. Either one was wildly unwelcome at that moment.

“Apparently, it was like wet tissue just slid out of her.”

Another gag, Riddle fully turning away. The horror clear on his face unable to stop his mind.

“Yeah, her cousin sent a picture too. It looked like a bloody piece of chewed-up gum-”

“TREY!” Riddle doubled over, just barely getting his yell out, coughing as he fought against his urge to vomit. Hearing the sounds of footsteps thundering down the hall, he felt relief flood him. He couldn’t handle another minute of this, he was never good with blood. Blood was always the sign of something being deeply wrong, blood outside the body besides the need for a transfusion was never healthy. Now one of his friends was basically hemorrhaging and he had to deal with the fact it was “healthy”.

Cater and Trey rush into the room, Trey dressed in Yuu’s black ‘Shut Up and Eat’ apron with a plate of croissants gripped in his hands, “What!? Who’s dying!?”

Phone pointed in front of him, Cater films a video. If Yuu managed to kill all of them, someone would be able to find the video and know what happened to them, “Is Yuu still bleeding?”

At Riddle’s loud retch, Trey handed the plate of food to Cater. The 3rd year quickly walked over to Riddle, rubbing at his back and trying to guide him out of the lounge, “Okay, let’s get you outside. Some fresh air will help. Cater, keep Yuu company.”

Cater watches mildly stunned, Trey walking past him with his hands firmly on Riddle’s shoulders. With a plate of toasted croissant sandwiches in one hand and his still recording phone in the other Cater looked at Yuu on the couch. Their head was leaned back against the armrest, watching him with what he could only describe as a predator’s stare. Putting his phone in his pocket, Cater grabs one of the sandwiches and slowly approaches Yuu, arm outstretched as he wiggled it, “Pspspspspspspssps.”

“I can not begin to tell you what I will do to you if you don’t stop that shit right now.” The threat was empty and they both knew it. Yuu struggled to not laugh as Cater finally walked over to them normally, gently placing the plate in their waiting hands, “How fucking dare you…? I’m laying here in pain and ruining the nice towels Kalim gifted me and you’re treating me like a cat.”

“A feral cat.” Cater had eased, if only a little bit. He still wasn’t standing at an angle to let Yuu get a quick hit in, but his shoulders had finally relaxed. It helped that he knew Yuu had food now, Trey was just as confused as he was when Jade kept sending texts reflecting the importance of giving Yuu food lest they attack them in a mood swing. And now with said feral cat feeding on the still-warm sandwiches, Cater could feel a bit safer, “You’re totes a cute cat, but still feral. #Hot-Mess, #Hit-By-A-Bus, #Don’t-Bite-Me-Pwease.”

Yuu frowned, though a smile was clearly winning the fight over their expression, “Shut up…” Taking a big bite, the buttery sweet sandwich filled them with a sense of comfort. Trey’s cooking always had an odd effect Yuu found. No matter what he made it would make others feel content and full. They and the ADeuce duo would joke that Trey was using his Unique Magic to make his food replace negative emotions somehow.

Trey hadn’t answered their joke, only smiling at them and offering another pie for their hangout.

Now with a plate of warm food, Yuu was more content, almost melting into the couch and snoozing into the armrest as she hummed. In their hazy mind, Yuu could hear Cater’s chuckle. The redhead sat carefully on the armrest above their head.

“Aw, my poor rag-a-muffin froshie is having such a hard time. It really makes me wanna be a good senpai and look after you.” He sighed dramatically, tapping at his cheek as he playfully pouted, “Is this how Trey feels looking at Ace and Deuce?”

“Only if you feel a deep sense of disappointment and contempt for everything I do.”

Ace and Deuce had just entered the room, Both of them with messy hair and disheveled clothing, clearly having gotten into a scuffle before coming back downstairs. The redhead first-year scowls, clicking his tongue, “Shut up. I’ve never done a single thing wrong in my life.”

Cater snorts, trying to hide just how hard he was fighting back his laughter.

Yuu raised an eyebrow, “Did you get fucking concussed up there? You’ve done nothing right since the day you were born, and you know it.”

“Shut up, you’re lucky you’re injured! Plus, where’s Riddle and Trey?”

Deuce looked around, walking closer to Yuu to once again give them a check, “We heard Rosehearts-Senpai yelling upstairs…”

“And you just now decided to show up?” Yuu tries to shove the whole of a croissant into her mouth, seeming to not realize the issue of it not being able to fit.

Ace scoffs from the doorway, “Like we’re coming down here if he was actually mad.” He watches Yuu with a raised brow. She was just…holding the sandwich now, as though she was trying to figure out how to properly eat it.

Deuce watches in silence too, only to gently grab the sandwich from Yuu, tearing it in half before giving it back, “Yuu did you…eat anything else before we got here?”

“Yeah, papa dog brought me food…” Yuu stared at the new, smaller sandwich in hand. Half shoving it into their mouth they continued, their voice muffled, “Why do you ask?”

“...Did you have one of those gummies Sam legally doesn’t sell you?”

“Are you high!?” Cater perked up, leaning over and tilting Yuu’s head back to look into their eyes. He lets out a laugh, noticing how heavily their pupils were dilated. Well, that would also explain why Yuu seemed so calm. Cater did the same when he had lingering body aches from tending the garden. If a pain potion wasn’t available, a nice ‘chill pill’ was plenty to ease the mind and body, “Let me have one.”

Yuu huffs, nearly choking on their massive bite, “I didn’t take a gummy. I took some medicine Crewel gave me.”

Deuce leaned closer, also checking their pupils before muttering under his breath, “Was it a tranquilizer dart?”

“Naw, it was a pain potion…Like a fancy one, with a tag on it.”

…

Ace looked around the floor near the couch, eyes catching the empty bottle half hidden under the skirt of the seating. Pulling it out, he read the tag and shouted in surprise, “Dude, this like a ‘The pain is so bad I’m dying’ pain potion! Is it really that bad!?”

Deuce grabs the bottle from Ace, reading it over before handing it to Cater, “Yuu! Do you want us to take you to the hospital!? Wait, no, you don’t want to-”

“How is this empty already?”

“Huh!?” Yuu clicks back into the conversation, looking up at Cater’s concerned glance, “What do you mean how? I drunk it.”

“Sweetie, these potions are like…You can take them orally, but they’re strong enough they normally are supposed to be given via drip for a safe, lasting effect…So why is it empty already?”

“...” Yuu started to cackle, the plate of sandwiches being saved from the floor as Deuce dived to catch it as they jostled off her lap, “I fucking chugged morphine!”

“You chugged this!?”

Ace slapped his forehead, “By the Seven, you’re fucking hopeless. This period thing makes you bleed out the brain, too? You’re gonna lose what little brain cells you had to begin with.”

Yuu still chuckled, hand reaching back to bat at Cater’s fingers combing through their hair, “Fuck you, Ace. Even if I got a brain bleed, I’d still have more brain cells than you.”

“Doubtful. You’re so useless right now, you couldn’t fight your way out of a paper bag.”

Yuu’s laughter instantly stopped, smiling falling into a neutral line as their gaze snapped to Ace. The redhead’s eyes widen, fear suddenly gripping his chest at Yuu’s stare, “...Uh…”

Riddle's breathing had calmed, but now he was sitting on the steps of Ramshackle, head in his hands as he felt a headache crowning. Lifting his head he stared at his palms, as though they held the answers to his questions, “This is bad, Trey. I don’t have any other way to describe it, this is bad.”

“Riddle, calm down. We can trust Yuu to handle themselves-”

“Except, we can’t! Yuu doesn’t even have all the facts and what facts they do have may not even be right since it’s all second-hand knowledge from other uninformed minors! Not to mention they haven’t even had a proper class on the subject…By the Seven, would it even be informative? They would have dealt with this for years at that point, They probably just went on the internet and read some uncertified drivel, lord knows they won’t open a book-”

“Riddle. Breathe.” Trey grasps Riddle by one of his shoulders, shaking him lightly and thumping the 2nd year on the chest with his other hand. Something to make Riddle take more than a shallow breath in his rambles, “Like you said, Yuu’s been dealing with this for years. They know what they need and we can help by giving them access to whatever it may be.”

Now that he was taking deep gulps of air, Riddle’s anxious energy had finally died down, his stomach finally resting. He turned to Trey, worry clear in his expression, “But it’s concerning. It’s so simple, yet the difference is so obviously alien I can’t help but want to…fix it. But it’s not my place to fix it, because there’s nothing to fix and this is completely natural for them…”

“...That’s right…Riddle did something other than…the blood upset you?”

“...” He sighs, “Yuu says they have no idea about their overall reproductive health. Since they refuse to see a real medical professional and Idia isn’t going to give Ortho the permission to do intrusive body scans, we have no way of checking. They could have cancer and we’d have no way of knowing until they got sick or they died! They said this ‘period’ isn’t always a standard thing either! They could bleed out of their eyes one day and we won’t know if they were actually about to expire or if they were simply on their ‘period’!”

“...” Trey sighs, rubbing the back of his neck at the new information, “Ok, yeah, that…that is very worrying…But,” Trey turns to Riddle with a smile, trying to find the bright side, “Yuu knows their body. If something was really wrong, you know they’d at least tell Crewel about it. And…” He trails off, letting Riddle’s mind come to the conclusion itself.

“...” Yuu’s relationship with Crewel was, to most other students, blindingly trusting. The prefect would tell the teacher anything and everything if they truly felt concerned about the information. Yuu continued to trust Crewel so much since he responded to such faith with the same intensity and care. “And Crewel would physically drag them to a hospital if he truly felt their life was in danger…” He took one last deep breath, nodding at the ‘fact’.

Trey watches with a smile as Riddle gathers himself up. What was once a too-small teen curled in on himself in anxiety and physical illness stood his good friend Riddle Rosehearts, a calm and collected figure of authority.

“Ok, I feel much better now, thank you, Trey.” Riddle looks to the door, “I should finish interviewing Yuu. There was so much information Jade wasn’t able to collect regarding the physical aspect of this…”

Trey hums, opening the door for them as they walk back inside, “He did say Yuu was very hormonal during their visit. Eels noses are really sensitive so he might have been distracted in his own interview by that and the smell of blood.”

“Possibly-”

The sound of Ace yelling and a loud crash coming from the lounge sends them both sprinting. Riddle reached the archway first, nearly being rammed into the side by Trey sliding to a stop beside him, “What’s happening?” “Is anyone hurt!?” Cater chuckles from the back of the couch, phone poised in his hands to film the fight between Ace and Yuu on the ground, “Poor Ace is gonna be.”

Ace and Yuu were spread out on the ground, Yuu quickly making progress to reach at Ace’s face to slap and tug on his cheeks, “Say uncle!” He kept pushing at Yuu’s hands, face pulled into a scowl as a stray drop of blood eased down from his nose, “You bitch! You punched me!”

“You’re the one saying I couldn’t fight my way out of a paper bag! Are you weaker than a paper bag, Ace!?”

“Senpais!” Ace flips onto his stomach, reaching out to Riddle while his other arm braced against Yuu’s chest to keep them away from his face, “Help me! Cater and Yuu are bullying me and Deuce isn’t being useful!”

Deuce calls out from the other side of the fight, holding his thumb up, “I’m helping, Yuu! The hair, prefect! Pull him by the hair and slam his face into the carpet!”

“Senpai! Help!”

“...” Riddle turned away, holding his hand over his mouth, “Don’t bleed on Yuu’s rug…”

“ME!?”

Yuu cackles, finally managing to tangle their fingers into Ace’s wild hair, “Yeah, Ace! Don’t bleed on my rug!”

316 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 5 months

Text

Flashbang

Chapter 2 - Le premier bonheur du jour

Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Pairing: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f! Reader

Synopsis: What happened while you were blackout drunk? What is your actual job on the crew? Why is there a lion on this pirate ship? These questions and more are left unanswered as you stumble your way through your first day on Captain Buggy's crew.

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse

Word Count: 6.8k

“The first delight of the day Is a ribbon of sunlight It's the fresh breath of the sea And it’s the beach that awaits The first sorrow of the day Is the door that closes shut But soon after you come back And my life resumes its course."

Waking up, all you knew was that you were cold. Freezing, really, shivering so hard that you felt your bones tremble. It was because you weren’t dressed properly. You never slept in your underwear. You forced your bleary eye open and looked off the side of the bed, spotting your bag haphazardly abandoned alongside your boots and bandana. Bracing yourself for the chilly air, you pulled the blanket along like a cape to grab your bag, quickly retreating. Even that small movement left your head spinning painfully, a headache pounding twice into your skull, once at the base and again at the left temple. At least all of your clothes were clean, even if they had been mushed into a wrinkled ball. Moving as fast as possible you put on leggings and a sweater, tugging your fingers through your hair before pulling the bandana over your eye. After that, you huddled back under the blanket, staring at nothing and waiting for the shivers to stop.

Between the headache and the cold, the only thing you wanted was to go back to sleep. That was the best way to deal with pain, or chills, or hunger, or whatever else you felt. If you were asleep, those things became automatic, you didn’t have to deal with them.

You were halfway under when somebody knocked.

At first, you hoped it was in your head. A dream. They knocked again, louder, calling your name. That was the thing to wake up the part of your mind that had been sleeping so soundly, that made you realize how wrong the situation was.

Slowly, you sat up, looking around. You had slept in a bed that did not belong to you, wearing nothing except your underwear, in a room you had never seen before. The bed itself was set into the wall and hung with thick, velvety curtains. Windows lined the far wall, but they were covered enough to let in only the barest amount of light with more curtains and a familiar Jolly Roger, one with a red clown nose. After you recognized that, everything else fit into place. The desk littered with shiny clutter, the red and white theming, the odd mixture of grunge and opulence. You were on a ship.

The person knocked again. Growing nervous, you threw off the blankets and pulled on your boots, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You had to cross through an anteroom to get to the door. It exchanged a desk and bed for couches, but was fundamentally the same. The air was cold. You opened enough so you could peer through the crack. Crina stood there, looking impatient.

“So you are alive,” she said, giving you a once over with smokey dark eyes. “Barely.”

You opened the door a little further, blinking against the light. “What time is it?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“Nearly noon. Some ships were spotted so we had to leave earlier than expected, I’m surprised you slept through it all.”

You blinked, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Everything was blurry, bleary, a puzzle with a picture so worn you couldn’t make sense of it.

“Did you have fun last night?” Crina asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I… I guess…” you said, confused. You remembered the drinking, and talking, and laughing, but the specifics were lost in a blurry whirl. “What time is it?”

Crina rolled her eyes. “Okay, come on. You shouldn’t be in there.” She didn’t wait to see if you complied before turning around. You followed, stumbling a bit before getting your balance and shutting the door behind you. “Those were the captain’s quarters, and these are the officer’s rooms,” she said as you passed a few more doors.

“That was Captain Buggy’s room?” you asked, your brain chugging to play catch up. The headache was awful.

She shot you a frown over her shoulder. “You don’t remember?”

“No.”

She shook her head, although you couldn’t see her expression. “We’re going down to the officer’s mess. Careful on the ladder.”

She turned from the narrow hall to an equally narrow drop of steps, easily descending. Dizzy and a little sick, you didn’t match her grace, but you managed to avoid falling.

With your recollection of the ships you had been on when you were young, you expected the officer’s mess to be fitted with elegant yet utilitarian finishings. Modest, but not so much that it forgot civilization. And, in another life, perhaps it had been. Now it was a pirate vessel, and they did what pirates always did. Various props lined the walls, batons and boxes and fabric and wheels and all kinds of other things. Red and white striped banners hung across support beams as if to mimic a big top tent. Signs of age and destruction were everywhere, indication of the tumultuous seizure, but it had once been a fine vessel. Crina didn’t pause to let you gawk, indifferent to the decor as she led you to another narrow hall and turned. You got an odd sense of deja vu there, pausing.

“Are we going to the infirmary?” you asked, steadying yourself against the wall.

“Yes,” Crina said as she unlocked the door. “You’ve sailed before?”

“When I was young,” you said. “My dad was-” You cut yourself off there, realizing that the end of that statement wasn’t something you should reveal. Marines were the enemies of pirates. It wouldn’t look very good if you suddenly revealed that you were the daughter of a Marine Captain, retired or not. “That was a long time ago.”

“I see,” she responded impassively, opening the door for you.

The smell hit you hard, like a brick to the face. Scent formed a sort of endless memory, one so ingrained into your mind that you didn’t know exactly where it came from, that you couldn’t remember independently but never forgot. Your body locked up, arrested by the familiarity. Perhaps it was what every ship infirmary smelled of, even masked with the sweet aroma of incense and smoke.

“What are you doing?” Crina asked.

You shook your head quickly, holding your breath as you hurried in. It wasn’t like it was actually the same. The room looked far more like a place of mysticism than medicine, with a rainbow of glass bottles lining the far wall, herbs hanging to dry, and scarfs draped to hide the stark wall. It wasn’t even slightly the same. Slowly, you released your held breath. It was fine.

“Sit,” Crina told you, shutting the door and immediately busying herself at the sideboard. You sat down on the table-like bed set into the wall, your shoulders and head immediately drooping. The surface was hard, meant for surgery rather than sleeping, but you didn’t care. With the weight of your head, you would have happily drooped down onto the floor. “Have you ever been drunk before last night?”

“No.”

“How do you feel?”

“Tired,” you answered. “My head really hurts.”

“Of course it does, you’re dehydrated,” she said, pouring water into a tin cup. The sound alone perked you up, made your parched tongue that much more dry. She added a spoon of powder before turning and offering it to you.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the cup. You intended to take it slow, but the second you got a taste of water, you couldn’t stop until it was gone.

“That’s two times,” Crina said when you were done and wiping your lips. “Two times that I could have poisoned you.”

You frowned, looking down at the cup and back up at her. “That was medicine, wasn’t it? Like before.”

“It’s already in your body, it doesn’t matter if you know what it was.”

You averted your gaze, flushing. “I’m sorry.”

Crina didn’t respond to that, approaching you instead. “How’s the bump on your head?”

“It’s fine,” you said reflexively. It hurt, of course. It would hurt for a while.

“May I check?” Crina asked. You hesitated, but eventually nodded, turning to give her access. The second she prodded the sore spot, you yelped, tears springing into your eye. “Ice will help with the pain and swelling.” She paused, smoothing your hair back into place. “Did you and Buggy have sex last night?”

“What?” you asked, whirling around. The quick movement did not help your sore head, sending little sparks of pain down your spine, your left temple thumping in protest.

“You slept in his bed after a night alone on the ship, it’s not an unreasonable question. Everybody will assume, but I’m asking you. Did you and Buggy have sex.”

“No!” you said, blushing furiously. “No. Captain Buggy wouldn’t… I can’t… There’s no way.”

“Earlier, you didn’t even know it was his bed. Could something have happened and you don’t remember?” Crina asked, her tone softening. You stared at her, stricken, your heart racing with sheer panic. “I’ll ask you another question—Is there any chance that you could get pregnant?”

“No,” you said, rubbing your face to hide the blush, feeling a little sick. Surely you would remember if something happened between the two of you. You didn’t even remember how you got into his bed. What you remembered was the warmth, and the saccharine sweet desire, and… Nothing. “He wouldn’t… do that. I wouldn’t.”

“I’m not here to judge you,” Crina said. “And I don’t want to embarass you. Do you remember when I warned you about consequences? This is one. Sex is fine, but if you get pregnant, you either get rid of it, or he gets rid of you. It’s better to avoid pregnancy in the first place—safer too. I can help you with that.”

She let that hang in the small room, waiting for your response. You had none, unable to so much as look at her. The thought of having sex was enough to make you wish the world itself would open up and swallow you whole. More than that, it was absurd to think that any man, let alone Captain Buggy, would bother with a one-eyed midget. It was disgusting to even entertain the notion. You were disgusting.

Eventually, Crina sighed. “When you need contraception, tell me. You have to look after yourself, god knows that no man will. But that’s all I’ll say on the subject. Do you want more water?”

You opened your eye. She held out the jug like it was a peace offering, which you accepted after a moment. There was no added powder this time. You wouldn’t have cared anyway, you emptied nearly half the cup before your sloshing stomach uneasily warned you to stop.

“Those bruises on your wrists are impressive,” Crina said. “May I take a look at them?”

You winced, fixing your sleeve to cover the discoloring and wrapping your hands around the cup to keep them from shaking. “They’re fine.”

“They look painful,” Crina said, leaning against the sideboard with her arms crossed, fixing you with a stare you didn’t like. It hadn’t been a question, but her silence made you want to answer.

“I’m fine,” you insisted. She still said nothing, just looking at you. It made you squirm uncomfortably, the table creaking. “I was sick a lot when I was little,” you explained. “I’m better now, but I still bruise easily and… It’s fine, my dad says it’s normal.” He said it was expected for a child, especially a girl, to be a little more breakable. You were weak. Frail. That was why you got hurt so often, got hurt by things that shouldn’t have hurt you.

“He says that it’s normal for you to have bruises? Did he tell you that broken bones and fat lips are normal too?”

“No… No, that was all my fault,” you said. “Because I’m not careful, I don’t ever think about how weak I am—because I was sick.”

“What kind of sickness was it?” Crina asked.

You shook your head quickly. “I-I don’t know.”

“What were your symptoms?”

“I was… sick.”

“Dizziness, headaches, fatigue, chills, anything like that?”

“I don't… Maybe. Some of those are because of the accident too.” You touched your bandana, tugging it down to ensure it was covering as much of the scar as possible.

“So you still have symptoms?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you told her, flustered by the relentless questions. “I’m fine.”

“Why did that man, Randall, claim you were mentally unwell?”

“I’m not,” you said, shaking your head, searching for the right answer, the one that she wanted. “He only thinks that because my dad… My dad worries about me. After everything that happened, he worries a lot.”

“Is that why you ran away?”

You shook your head, staring down at your lap. Crying now was embarrassing, you focused your entire self on fighting the sting of tears in your eye. Trying to cover it up, you adjusted the bandana again, desperately forcing your thoughts onto something, anything else.

“If it were up to me, I would not have medically cleared you to be here,” Crina said. “Asking you to perform any physical labor is out of the question, and you’re frail. It is more than likely that you’ll suffer severe injury by the end of the year.”

“I’m not weak anymore,” you said through clenched teeth, soft enough that she couldn’t hear that you were crying. “I’m okay, really. I’ll get stronger.”

“You can’t fix stunted development,” Crina told you. “But it’s not up to me. I’ll do what I can to help you as long as the captain insists upon keeping you around.”

Your shoulders heaved with a dry, pathetic sob.

“Finish that water and we’ll go to the galley to see about getting something to eat,” Crina told you. “Cry now, if you need to. After that, you’re going to have to be someone else’s problem for a while.”

Crina’s medicine and some food had helped you feel better. The headache remained, a stinging, painful reminder of the past night, but you ignored that as you emerged onto the main deck. Sunlight blinded you and the wind whipped your hair into an unruly mess, the oppressively humid salty ocean air staggeringly familiar. Not all memories were bad. Really, some were good. Since your dad was a surgeon, he was allowed to bring you along to help. Fetching things, bringing meals, cleaning up, running messages, helping tend to the wounded. Back then, you were his sweet little girl.

You shook your head clear of those thoughts, squinting through the sunlight to look around. You were looking for Cabaji, Captain Buggy’s Chief of Staff. A man with green striped dark hair and a blue checkered scarf and, according to her, a sour expression. From the description, you would have thought he’d stand out, but it seemed like Buggy’s entire crew could be described with equally colorful traits. Most of them were busy with some task or another. Those who noticed you watched with expressions ranging from unimpressed to hostile. To your great relief, you didn’t see the blunt-featured Ivo anywhere.

Assuming you would find the man by the quarter deck, you headed in that direction, trying very hard to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Strangely, your unassuming sweater and leggings made you the odd one out instead of helping you blend in. Eyes made your skin crawl as you passed. Did they all think you had slept with the captain? Crina’s words bothered you. They bothered you a lot. But if the two of you had done something, there would be evidence. More than just a missing dress.

Hesitating at the steps, knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate to approach the quarter deck without invitation, you stalled out. People were still looking at you, likely wondering what you were doing. You didn’t know either. There, caught in a cycle of anxious uncertainty, someone passed right by you. At first, it didn’t register, but then you blinked and turned. Dark hair, checkered scarf.

You rushed to follow him, relieved.

“Excuse me,” you called. Nothing, although the deck was terribly noisy. You had to rush to keep up. “Excuse me, sir?”

Nothing. He was walking so fast too, with a grace and balance you couldn’t hope to match.

“Excuse me!” you called, reaching out to touch his arm. Your hand missed the first time, catching air. The second attempt connected, and that finally got a reaction, albeit a slightly violent one. You pulled back, narrowly avoiding his elbow. He turned around, searching at eye level before looking down at you. “You’re Cabaji?” you asked.

“I am,” he said.

“Um… I’m-”

“I know who you are,” he said, cutting you off. “We met last night when you were boarding the ship.”

“Really?” you asked, taken aback. The entire previous day was blurry. Except where it wasn’t, but you couldn’t think about that. “I’m sorry I don’t… remember.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you need?”

“I was hoping to talk to you. If you’re not busy, sir.”

“I am,” he said, clearly irritated.

“Oh. Right. Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” you asked. “I’m not busy.”

Cabaji looked at you critically. “Do you know where the kitchen is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go down and pick up Captain Buggy’s lunch then wait for me on the bridge. I have to take care of something first. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded, eager to have something to do. “I’ll be quick.”

“Just don’t mess it up.”

With that, he turned and stalked away.

Having a task reinvigorated you. You probably drew just as many eyes, but now it didn’t matter as much. How many times had you been tasked to serve meals when you sailed with your dad? Countless. It was something you could do, a way you could contribute.

Descending back down into the dark belly of the beast, you had to be careful. Last time you were on a ship, you had both eyes. Although you had gotten used to it in so many ways, you had even been able to scale the southside buildings, the sea required a different type of balance.

“Back for more?” The cook asked when he saw you, his round cheeks ruddy from working in such a small, hot space. “I haven’t got any scraps, you’ll have to beg somewhere else.”

“Cabaji asked me to pick up Captain Buggy’s lunch,” you told him, unsure if you should be offended by the comment.

He looked you up and down, his mouth twisting. It was the same look Cabaji had given you, even similar to the way Buggy had sized you up. Nobody lingered on your bandana like the people in town, far more concerned with your size. “If you drop it,” he told you, grabbing a silver tray to put into your hands, “I’ll be frying up your skinny rump instead.”

“I won’t, I promise,” you said.

“When the captain’s done, you bring that back to me. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Better hurry then.”

With a final awkward nod, you made your way back up, extra careful with the tray. It was already getting easier to find your balance. You didn’t care if anybody was watching you as you crossed the main deck, all of your attention on not dropping the tray. If you messed up your first task as a part of Buggy’s crew, you’d be better off tossing yourself into the water.

Unfortunately, Cabaji wasn’t on the quarter deck. The door into what you assumed would be the navigation and office was closed, but that was probably where Buggy would be dining.

Standing there quickly became awkward, the sun piercingly bright and the tray getting heavier and heavier. You looked around for Cabaji a final time before going into the map room. It was empty, but on the other side of the sliding doors, you heard voices. Cautiously, you circled the large center table, intending to knock. The map, however, drew your attention. You knew it. You had seen it before. Your town was a burgeoning center of trade traffic, and so new routes needed to be mapped for merchant vessels to facilitate that growth. As a retired Marine, dad was always willing to help out with that sort of thing. He was well connected. Respected.

One of the pirates had stolen the map right out of your own home.

Before you could figure out how to feel about that, the door into the captain’s office slid open. You jumped, nearly dropping the tray as you turned around. A man with a white fur vest stopped at the threshold, his eyes immediately narrowing.

“Who are you?” he asked, his tone unnervingly accusatory.

“I… Um…”

“Well, well, would you look at that,” Buggy called. You looked around the man to see Captain Buggy at the other side of the office, sitting behind a big desk with his feet up on its top. “She’s standing and everything, I’m impressed. After how wasted you got last night, I thought you’d be out for the whole day.”

“I brought your lunch, sir,” you said faintly, not knowing what else to say.

“It’s about time,” Buggy said. “I’m starving. Bring that over here.” You entered his office, nervously skirting around the man who was still glaring at you.

Just as you set the tray on Buggy’s desk, avoiding meeting his eye, the other door opened. You looked over your shoulder to see a very displeased Cabaji come in.

“I’m sorry, Captain Buggy,” Cabaji said as he crossed the map room. “I told her to wait for me out there.”

“Don’t worry about it, I was meaning to get you two in here anyway. Mohji, Cabaji, this is my new cabin boy—er, girl. Woman?” Buggy looked at you inquisitively. “How old are you?” He shrugged it off just as quickly, taking the top off of the tray. “Whatever. I had one, but that didn’t work out. An artist of my caliber doesn’t need a spineless yes-man to run my errands, I need a protégé that I can mold into something really special. I knew you were just the girl from the minute I saw you… Wait, no… No, I knew it from the moment you said that you would happily serve me for the rest of your life.” He grinned, cutting off a chunk of meat. “Yeah, that was it.”

You shuffled awkwardly, trying very hard to avoid looking at any of the men. It was true, but when he said it like that, it took on a far different tone. They had to be drawing the worst conclusions.

“So, you two,” Buggy continued, talking at Cabaji and Mohji through a mouthful of food, “make it clear to everyone that she’s a part of the crew. I don’t want to hear shit about special treatment or whatever. Except for, you know, if anybody messes with her I’ll feed ‘em to the lion. Maybe that’ll perk him up, eh Mohji?”

“Yes, sir,” Mohji said.

“Great,” Buggy said. “Cabaji, you can take the afternoon to show her the ropes. Make sure she’s up to snuff.”

“What about crew inspection?” Cabaji asked.

“I’ll be here to help Captain Buggy with that. Your presence isn’t necessary,” Mohji said, looking at Cabaji with what you thought was a hint of animosity.

“I don’t need either of you to judge talent, that’s my business,” Buggy said irritably.

Neither man responded to that, but Buggy’s annoyance dissipated quickly.

“One last thing. Be careful with her,” Buggy said with a wink, his mood shifting yet again. “Don’t get fooled by the whole one-eyed innocent thing, she’s a real freak.”

“Understood,” Cabaji said, deadpan.

“Great. Now get out of here. She starts tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” Cabaji said, grabbing your elbow and pushing you in front of him so he could basically herd you out of the room, past the uncomfortably familiar map, and back into the sunlight.

He shut the door and pulled you to the side, shooting it a wary glance before looking back at you. “Next time,” he said, “do what I tell you. I don’t care about whatever relationship you think you have with Captain Buggy, you will follow the orders that are given to you.” The implied or else was obvious from his intense stare. Part of you wondered what the or else would be, although the other part didn’t want to know.

“I understand,” you said, bowing your head. “I’m sorry, sir. And I don’t… Captain Buggy and I don’t have any kind of relationship. Last night, we didn’t do… Didn’t do anything. I swear.”

“That’s not my business,” Cabaji said.

“I really mean it,” you muttered, although you could tell he didn’t believe you, and you thought about what Crina said, and waking up in your underwear, and you felt sick in a way that had nothing to do with a hangover.

“We should get started,” Cabaji said, ignoring your weak objection. You swallowed hard and nodded. You had a job now, you needed to focus on that.

The first thing you learned about being a pirate was that you had next to no idea what you were doing. There were hundreds of things you needed to learn simply about living on the ship before you could begin learning your job, whatever that entailed. The biggest problem was how quickly you wore out. Cabaji was accustomed to being on a ship and athletic, you were neither. Having such a bad headache didn’t help. As the afternoon passed, Crina’s medicine wore off. If it were only the one hammering your temple, you could handle it, but the lump on the back of your head pulsed with every heartbeat, sending fresh sparks of pain down your spine every time you moved your head.

Like a wind-up doll slowly running down, you fell behind. It was only a matter of time before you collapsed, his voice fading out and the world blackening on the edges. You didn’t do something as dramatic as fall, but you distantly felt your legs fold beneath you, too rubbery to support you anymore.

“What are you doing?” Cabaji asked, stopping.

“‘m fine,” you said automatically, your voice faint. “Sorry. I’m fine. I just need a second.”

“Are you sick?”

“No, jus’ dizzy,” you said, trying to get your bearings.

Cabaji knelt in front of you, tilting your head up with a hand beneath your chin. Your eye spun, his face blurring.

“Let’s take a break,” he said, dropping your chin and standing up.

You might have protested, but the truth was that you very badly needed a break. It was embarrassing, but it would be worse to pass out. So you accepted Cabaji’s help getting your feet, the world blackening on the edges. Fortunately, the officer’s mess wasn’t a long walk, and you gratefully dropped into one of the chairs. Cabaji sat opposite you, his dark gaze unwavering. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but his stoic intensity made you squirm.

“I’m really sorry, sir,” you said. “This won’t happen again, I promise.”

“It’s alright,” Cabaji told you. “There are things we should discuss. About your role on this ship, and about your duty to the captain.”

That made you bristle, but you forced yourself to relax. He was your senior officer, this conversation was necessary. “Okay.”

“Captain Buggy is a very unique man. He demands a lot of his crew, especially those who serve him directly. As his Chief of Staff, it is my responsibility to ensure you’re able to meet those demands. Your failure would reflect very poorly on me.”

“I won’t fail,” you told him sincerely, if a little defensively. “I promise. I-I know what a cabin boy does. I’ve sailed before, sir.”

Cabaji leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his dark eyes narrowing at you like you were stupid. “Were you listening to what he said? Captain Buggy didn’t hire you to be his gopher or attendant. He gave you an official job to acknowledge you as a member of the crew so the others don’t mess with you, that’s it.”

“Oh, um,” you said slowly, frowning, “maybe I misunderstood. I’m sorry, sir.”

“We all know why you’re actually here,” Cabaji told you. “I’ll teach you how to perform basic duties, but your only concern is serving Captain Buggy. You will provide him with whatever he wants—will do anything he asks of you. You do not tell him no, or question his judgment.”

There was an implication bubbling beneath his directions that made you skin crawl, thinking again of what Crina said before, but you forced yourself to ignore it. Cabaji said earlier that it wasn’t his business, and it wasn’t.

“I understand, sir,” you told him instead. “I really do.”

Cabaji’s demeanor softened slightly, his head tilting to the side. “No, you don’t. I’ve known people like you. Children who grew up on the streets, or malnourished ship slaves. Small. Frail. Weak.” He spoke bluntly, though without malice. “Add in your lack of skill and experience, and you’ve got no idea what you’re in for.” He sighed, leaning back. “I’ll do what I can to help you. As I said, your failure would inevitably become mine as well.”

“I won’t fail,” you muttered softly, staring at your knees, your headache hammering at the back of your skull, down your spine.

He shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

When you thought about being on a ship, it was with the experience you had on Marine vessels. Strict order, stricter schedules, and militant discipline. What you didn’t think about was exiting the hatch from the lower deck to see a circle of pirates loosely gathered around a nearly empty spot in the middle of the deck. Nearly empty, except for a lone man beneath a makeshift spotlight. Music crackled out of a speaker, providing him a beat to follow for his routine. It looked like a dance, although not one you had ever seen.

“What’s going on?” you asked Cabaji as he came up behind you.

“Crew inspection,” he told you. “These are the new recruits.”

You watched the man for a moment before your eyes strayed past the spotlight. Captain Buggy wasn’t hard to find. He leaned against the railing with crossed arms, his dark silhouette cutting through the sunset. Although his scowl was only barely visible, tense displeasure underscored every aspect of his posture.

Following the flourishing swell in the music, the pirate ran from one corner of the emptied area, using his momentum to do a flip. To you, it was one of the most impressive things you had ever seen, but he landed wrong. A sharp intake of breath rippled over the gathered crew as he stumbled, unable to save it and falling down onto one knee.

“Stop,” Buggy said, pushing away from the railing, waving his hand to stop the music. “Just stop. I’ve seen more than enough.”

The pirate got to his feet, his head bowed in deference as Buggy approached him.

“Was that a joke?” Buggy asked. The man didn’t respond. Without the music, a very loud hush had settled over the entire deck, even the flapping sails and creaking wood quieting down in the face of Buggy’s temper. “You’re all in on it, right? Because if you performed like this in front of an audience, the only thing they would do is laugh.”

The pirate muttered something you couldn’t hear. Buggy leaned in with wide eyes to listen.

“You’re hungry?” he repeated. The man spoke again and Buggy nodded sympathetically, his anger suddenly gone. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that you were hungry.” He grabbed the man by the shoulder, smiling. “You shoulda said something sooner.”

Without any warning, he struck the man in the stomach, using the grip on his shoulder to push him to the side.

“How about some food for thought,” Buggy said, raising his voice as he strolled into the center of the impromptu stage. “I hired you, all of you, because I need talent worthy of my show. That’s what you signed up for. So where is that talent? All I’ve seen today is shit so bad it’s stinking up the deck. I oughta let every single one of you good for nothing nobodies starve until you can give me something—anything—that I can work with.”

Everybody in the circle shuffled uncomfortably, most of them bowing their heads rather than meet Buggy’s eyes as he looked at each one in turn.

“We’re done here, go get some grub,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “We’ll try this again after you’ve had time to reflect on your failure.” With that, Buggy stalked out of the circle towards the quarter deck.

“Go get the captain’s supper,” Cabaji told you. “Bring it to his office.”

“Oh, um. Yes, sir,” you said, nodding.

Cabaji left to follow the captain, and you joined the flow of people going down. It was a solemn group, full of stormy expressions and whispered dissent. You felt a bit of that yourself. Captain Buggy seemed amused by your lack of talent last night, but would that hold? You didn’t have any unique skills, and especially not anything even approaching as impressive as the acrobat from earlier. The only answer that came to mind was Crina and Cabaji’s sickening assumptions. But if that was true, Buggy would have said something.

It had to be more simple than any of that. He wanted somebody who would be loyal, obedient, and could perform the boring quality of life tasks that captains were too busy for. You just had to prove that you really were the best person for that role.

Food was already being served to crew members who were not among the new recruits, taken from the kitchen to the mess by other younger pirates. Nobody paid you any mind while you nervously hovered, unsure if you were meant to wait in line or not. You didn’t want to keep Buggy waiting, but you didn’t want to cut in front of anybody and draw attention to yourself. Your indecision was ended by the ruddy-faced cook recognizing you from earlier, giving you the captain’s tray without any further comment. Your skin crawled with the weight of the eyes that tracked you, watching you quickly take the tray and hurry out of the kitchen.

Working against the flow of people was more difficult than following it, and you had to stop twice to catch your breath, the dizziness from earlier returning.

The main deck had returned to something like normalcy when you returned. The spotlight had been exchanged for lanterns and crew members had returned to their duties. By now the sun had fallen very low, casting the ship in a smoky haze of near dark. You crossed the deck with your head down, watching your feet to make sure you didn’t trip on anything.

There were no lights in the map room, just an illuminated line between the doors into Buggy’s office. As you got closer, you could hear Cabaji’s low, calm voice. You had taken too long, and you were a little winded, and Buggy was already unhappy, and part of you wanted to stay in the dark until you could calm your breathing and think of a good reason for making him wait. Instead, you knocked.

“Come in,” Buggy called, and you opened the door, blinking as you entered his well-lit office. “Took you long enough.”

“I’m sorry, Captain Buggy,” you said, hurrying to his desk to set down the tray.

You half expected him to berate you, but he only rolled his eyes, looking back to Cabaji. “You were saying?”

“Once we seize another ship, we can remain in that area. Those waters are thick with smaller supply vessels and that-”

“Boring,” Buggy said, cutting him off with a loud enough voice to make you wince as you pulled the lid off the tray. “All of this. It’s all completely uninspired. I’m not gonna drum up any buzz by doing the same tired act as everybody else. People don’t give a shit about small fry supply vessels and shithole villages in the middle of nowhere. You know what makes people pay attention? Giving them something they’ve never seen before. Artistic vision—does anybody else on the ship understand that?”

Cabaji didn’t say anything. What was there to say? You knew the flint-like look in Buggy’s eyes, in the tone of his raised voice. Any response could be the steel to start a fire. You didn’t dare draw any attention to yourself, trying to remain as small as possible in the tense silence. A silence that was broken by the door opening loudly. Mohji walked in without knocking, a leatherbound book under his arm. He seemed to realize that he was interrupting something too late, nervously looking from Cabaji to Buggy.

“I’m sorry to-”

“Did you get what I asked?” Buggy cut in brusquely, his mood shifting yet again to business.

“Of course, Captain Buggy,” Mohji said. You took that as your cue to leave, passing Mohji with your head down to catch the door from fully closing.

When you raised your eye to watch where you were going in the dark map room, a pair of eyes reflected back at you. It took a second for your brain to process that what you were seeing was real, but then you yelped in fear, stumbling back into the office and landing hard on your butt.

“What was that?” Buggy asked from the other side of the room, amused.

“There’s… something in there,” you said, scrambling to get to your feet. “An animal.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Buggy said, nonplussed. “Why’d you let him in there? Everything’s gonna smell like wet dog.”

“Richie doesn’t stink,” Mohji said. Realizing how his clipped tone might come across, he lowered his head respectfully. “Captain.”

“That was a dog?” you asked.

“A lion,” Mohji corrected.

“A lion?” you repeated, your voice thin.

“He won’t hurt you,” Mohji said dismissively.

You nodded as though you understood. Even Cabaji looked more exasperated than concerned. They made it seem like it was no big deal, like lions weren’t terrifying wild animals that you would never want to meet without a set of bars between you. Even if circuses generally had animal acts, allowing one of them to wander around freely couldn’t have been safe.

“Don’t look so scared,” Buggy said. “Not even Richie would bother trying to eat you. Not nearly enough meat.”

That was obviously your prompt to leave. Between the embarrassment of staying out of fear and getting eaten by a lion, you decided that the second was at least more dignified. Still, you could feel the cold sweat on the back of your neck when you slipped out of his office and into the dark room. Hidden in shadow, the only thing you could really make out about the creature was its size. How could it even live on the ship?

Slowly, you circled the table opposite where Richie laid, keeping your eye on him to ensure he didn’t move. You were nearly to the door when you heard the lion growl. Jumping in fear, you stumbled the last few steps to wrench the door open with shaking hands, practically slamming it shut out of terror that the beast would follow.

Several seconds of silence from within convinced you that you were safe, scurrying away with only a few backwards glances to ensure you weren’t being followed.

When you reached the bottom of the steps on the main deck, you stopped to breathe. Maybe from wearing yourself out physically, and definitely from being afraid, your head ached with an agonizing pulse, as if the pain were generating a heartbeat of its own. All at once, an overwhelming sense of alienation froze you inside. You were surrounded by strangers, stuck on an unfamiliar ship, there was a lion on the loose, and your only tether to a life you weren’t physically cut out for was a man you barely knew. And the day wasn’t even over.

The wave of exhaustion that rolled over you at the thought of all you had left to do was almost enough to knock you over.

Squeezing your eye shut and rubbing your temple, you forced all of those thoughts away. It didn’t matter if nothing made sense, or if you were making a mistake, or that you were afraid, or that you were in pain. Those things never mattered, not when you had things to do. During all those dark months after the accident, that’s what dad said. Submitting yourself to service was the best way to deal with unwanted feelings, to express your grief in a way that could benefit others, and therefore be a salve to your wounded heart.

All that mattered now was proving your own worth to Captain Buggy through service. You could do that.

#opla buggy #opla buggy x reader #opla x reader #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #my writing #flashbang

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kasagia · 6 months

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❄️️Warm my heart pt. 7❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: The truth sets you free… sometimes even if you don't want it to. (Belated) Merry Christmas!! There is a one last part left to this story... Word Count: 4,3 k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 6 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 8 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Leave me alone, Fedyor!" you shout at the heartrender, who somehow managed to find you in the crowded city. Christmas was in a few days, and the residents of Os Alta took to the streets to buy the rest of the gifts at the last minute.

Tomorrow, you would have probably been among them too, picking up a gift for the general, if it weren't for the conversation with that old witch who tormented you in your youth when she was your mentor and trainer.

"C'mon, Y/N. We need to go back to the Little Palace."

Fedyor grabs your arm, trying to pull you away from the bar. But you don't let yourself be distracted from your place. Instead, you pour him a glass of alcohol and hand it to him, clinking your glass against his.

"How is it that the guy I like always turns out to be a red flag? Is it because of our keftas? Do we always end up with a man fitting our outfit?"

"Oh, saints... I thought you were a little more sober." he sighs and downs his drink, sitting down next to you. You lean against him, nuzzling into his shoulder as you continue your drunken accusations and complaints.

"I am sober! I am finally sober, Freddy!"

"Fedyor." he corrects you, smiling in amusement at your cute drunken state.

"Whatever." you say and drink a shot. "The point is... that men suck." you speak in a very serious tone, as if revealing a great secret to him.

"Hey!" he says, acting indignant and playfully pushing away from you. This makes you lose your balance a bit, and you grab the wooden bar counter with all your strength.

"Not you! I mean, not gays. Well, Ivan too, since you both argued, but… Ugh! You know what I mean." you lean on his shoulder as he tries to lead you out of the bar without you noticing.

"Yeah, I can imagine." he obediently agrees and puts your cloak on you before leading you out into the streets of Os Alta.

"What I want to say is that I am finally sober from my stupid feelings, crushes, and everything I was feeling since I've started to work with that damn bastard."

"Who the hell made you hate him so much?"

"Myself. And woman. A really wise woman. We should listen to women more!" you shout, hugging him tight as you lose your balance in a rush of emotions.

"Y/N. Let's get home. Before you fall and smash your head on the ground."

"I should've taken Zoya with me. She knows how to have fun. Not like others. And she also hates him! Alina probably too. We can start a club! The club: 'I hate the Darkling." you mumble in your drunken state, holding on to Fedyor for dear life as he leads you to the Little Palace.

He thanks all the saints above for not noticing that you two are passing through the gates of the palace.

"You don't hate him. You are just hurt for some reason. I can't tell why, but I guess you should go and talk with him about anything that happened."

"You have the right!" you agree with him enthusiastically, and he frowns in surprise. From the combative and defiant way you expressed your sudden aversion and hatred for the general in the bar, he expected you to fight him at all costs. "Let's go!" his eyes widen at your words, in realisation that you weren't on a peaceful path to reconciliation at all.

You push away from him and stagger towards the general's chambers.

"No! Y/N! Wait! Not now." he says panicked and runs after you. He grabs you by the collar and pulls you back before you hit the wall.

He sighs, realising that it won't be that easy for him to convince you to go to your own chambers instead of going and arguing with Kirigan.

Aleksander was returning from a meeting with the king, to which Ivan had dragged him. He was angry at this old fool for interfering in the affairs of him and the Little Palace. Or, actually, he was so angry that he had to leave your warm arms and soft lips to deal with this royal asshole for three hours.

All he wanted was to come back to you. He secretly hoped that maybe he would find you completely naked in his bed or in his warm bathtub, waiting for him.

But when he reached his chambers, he didn't find you at all.

"Y/N?" he asks as he comes inside. He walks past the war room and kncoks on the table in case you didn't hear him walking inisde. "Y/N?"

He looks into his library, his dressing room, his bedroom, and even his bathroom (yes, he was a fool who never gave up hope), but you are nowhere to be found.

"Y/N?!" he shouts, returning to the war room. His heartbeat sped up dramatically. You weren't here. You were supposed to wait for him.

Aleksander had to find you. You wouldn't just leave without leaving a note—nothing. On the other hand, he didn't notice any signs of a fight or a skirmish in his chambers. You simply vanished. You disappeared. Like you've never been here. Like all the moments he shared with you, they were only an imagination of his mad mind. For a moment, he felt like he had lost all his common sense.

He put on the kefta again, which he threw off as soon as he arrived. He was adjusting his collar when he stopped, alarmed, hearing a noise in the corridor.

Just in case, he summons his shadows and leaves the chamber with his black shadows dancing around his fingers. He leaned out slightly, scanning the corridor, ready to cut in half whoever dared to take you from him again. He sighs in relief when he sees you on Fedyor's shoulder as you say something to him.

For a moment, he was terrified. That they came for you again, that someone took you from him again, that something happened to you again and he wasn't there in time to save you... or that you wanted to run away from him and leave him like so many others.

Like Luda or Ulla.

"Y/N." he sighs with relief. Your eyes widen as you see him.

He was walking towards you, but he stopped when he saw betrayal, bitterness, and rage shining in your eyes instead of the loving gaze he used to receive.

But that wasn't what worried him most. That was your look—the same look he got from many people in his youth when they found out he was a shadow summoner. Except that your disgusted, angry look hurt him more than any of the people's glances at him, his mother's scoldings and taunts, or the wound from the blades they tried to kill him with.

He sees how you tense up at the sight of him, watching his every little move carefully. He felt anxious, a shiver running through him as he was greeted with your hostility instead of the sweet smile with which you said goodbye to him. And he had no idea where your change in attitude had come from.

Something was wrong…

"There it is! The liar! The bastard! The walking devil himself!" you shout, walking towards him.

You trip over your feet, and he automatically takes a few steps forward to catch you in his arms before you land on the floor. He looks at you carefully, and by the strong smell of alcohol coming from you and your flushed cheeks, he perceives your condition.

He completely forgot about your hostility. For now, his priority was keeping you safe and comfortable. Firstly, he just needed to understand the reason for your drunkenness. When it turns out that nothing terrible has happened (such as the sudden death of one of your family members), then he can cope with that sinister glint in your eyes that appears each time your gaze meets his.

"Is she just drunk or something bad happened?" he asks Fedyor, confused, as he finally get together enough to say something.

"YOU! That's what happened! You are the worst fucking man I have ever felt in love with." his heart skips a beat at your drunken confession. He wanted to hear it; he had secretly craved it for some time, but certainly not under these circumstances...

"C'mon, milaya. Let's take you to bed." he whispers, nodding at Fedyor to leave. Heartrender bows to him and heads towards his chambers, leaving you two alone. He gently hugs you and leads you back to his chambers.

You lean on him, and for a moment, everything seems okay as he sits you down on his bed and kneels in front of you to untie your shoes. But when your eyes meet his face again, you go into a kind of fury, kicking him and moving away from him as far as possible.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"What happened to you?!" he asks, bursting out. He doesn't understand your sudden hostility, how your attitude towards him changed in a matter of minutes—hours, actually—and how suddenly all your love and affection just... stopped existing for him.

"You!" you shout, pointing your finger at him. You wobble on your feet, and at the last moment, he comes over to catch you. This time, you let him place you on his bed and take care of you.

"More details, please." he sighs in anguish, making sure you're comfortable for the rest of the night. Whatever wrong you think he's done, no matter how mad you are at him, he won't let you escape his watchful eye like this. He would keep you safe even if you pointed a damn shotgun at him.

"I had a really nice conversation with Baghra." he freezes, halfway through unbuttoning your coat. Baghra talked to you. His mother, who hated his insides. Various scenarios and stories that she could have told you run through his head. He's glad you're telling him that when you're drunk. At least this will give him time to prepare his counter-speech until you sober up and can have a serious conversation. He just hopes that Baghra hasn't had time to make you completely hate him and to turn you against him in the few hours he's been gone. "That's it, you lying traitor! I know everything!"

"Y/N... it's not what it looks like..."

"Of course! Yes! How was I so blind to fall for your lying tongue?! I believed your sad stories and cute, puppy-like eyes, like some stupid, naive girl. Ugh! I stayed with you for damn Christmas, so that you don't feel lonely and could enjoy the holidays for probably the first time in your damn life instead of visiting my little brother!"

He doesn't respond to your words. He just holds your hand and strokes it gently as you continue to drunkenly mutter whatever's on your mind. And he listens carefully, focusing his attention on all the noteworthy words that will help him understand at least a little about how you feel and how he can fix the mess that this mad witch called his mother has gotten him into.

"I just thought you would turn out to be a better man." you whisper disappointedly, snuggling into his pillow. He finds the sight both endearing and heartbreaking.

He sighs and presses a kiss on your forehead, running his hand through your hair as you sleep deeply.

He won't lose you. Many people turned away from him; he let many of them go; he also lost many, but you won't be one of them. He may be selfish, but he's fed up with loneliness, and with you... with you, he feels like a completely different person. Someone he was before centuries of life shaped him into the man he is now. A general who was supposed to take care only of his Grisha, no matter what. A man who knew that power was something that had to be tamed, something that could not be allowed to go uncontrolled, and with you, he had lost too much of that control lately.

He had to fix everything.

And the sight of your tears drying on your cheek and neck, where he had placed tender kisses hours earlier, made him realise where he needed to start.

"You're already crawling here? I thought you'd be chasing your precious little heart first." his mother said this as he stood at the entrance to her cottage. She was finishing packing. A few years ago, he would have thanked the Saints for finally getting rid of her, but now he was glad he had made it before she left.

"Did you think I would just let you leave? That I'll let you escape and hide in a hole while I put out the fires you start?"

"I don't need anyone's permission. Besides, I doubt you'll be able to put out this fire. This little girl is quite a gasoline. She didn't need much to understand what she got herself into. Or to run away." he laughs mockingly as he steps inside. He leaves the door open to get on her nerves.

"Then, with great pleasure, I am here to say that she is back and sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Stupid girl." she mutters under her breath and closes her bag. She throws it over her shoulder and finally turns to face him. "And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on her? After all, she can tell your little secret to the Sun Summoner. And then your plans…"

"I trust her." he says confidently, staring defiantly at his mother. "She won't do anything against me." he adds, feeling the necklace you gave him under his kefta and remembering the countless times you stood by his side, the countless times you showed him your devotion and affection.

"She trusted Kirigan. Not Aleksander." she notices. Aleksander feels bile rising in his throat and uncertainty, but he quickly shakes off the feeling, knowing that causing it is the purpose of his mother's words. And he learned better than to continue listening to her poison.

"She will trust the real me too."

They both stare at each other, waiting to see who will give in and whose defence will be low enough to strike a blow. This was mainly how conversations with his mother went. Eternal strategies, planning the next step, careful observation, and most importantly, keeping a mask and not expressing any real feelings and thoughts.

Maybe if he hadn't created the fold, things would have been different between them. But it wasn't. And he didn't know what hurt him more—that he had lost his only support over the centuries or that he couldn't just let her go or hate her completely as she deserved.

"After you lied to her? I doubt it. Remember what I told you? That greedy man may be terrible, but..."

"But there is nothing like a mad woman." he finishes for her, rolling his eyes at her poor attempt to make him doubt or dislike you in any way. "I have nothing to worry about."

"Then you should watch out for her. She may be Grisha, but she's as dead as we are, as is Miss Starkov. It's easy for something to happen to your precious little second-in-command."

"Be careful with your words." he growls menacingly, taking a step towards her. He glares at her with his evil gaze, but it does nothing for her. He knows he won't hurt her, just as she won't attack him... at least not yet. "If you put her in harm's way... think about what I might do..." an unspoken threat hangs between them.

"You were pathetic. You are pathetic. And you will always be pathetic, Aleksander."

He almost flinches at her remark. The eternal dispute between them. About Aleksander's attachment to people. Even the most fragile and weak ones, when Baghra abandoned her own children when they were not strong enough... Like she did with Ulla.

"Just like you'll always be alone, mother." he points this out and is happy to see the slight change in her facial expression as her mocking smirk disappears from her face for a moment. His small victory.

Baghra doesn't respond to his words. Shadows engulf the cabin, and before he knows it, she is gone, leaving him alone inside. He clenches his fists and spreads the shadows with a sweeping movement of his hand. He sighs, wondering how much Baghra told you was true about him and how much she made up to paint him as a power-hungry monster in your eyes.

He returns to the Little Palace in the morning. He's waiting for you to wake up, trying to read some reports and finish writing orders, but he can't bring himself to do it. All he thinks about is you, what he will tell you, how you will react, and whether you will hate him like his mother wanted you to.

When you finally wake up, he feels both delighted that his torment is over and concerned that he will have to talk to you soon. He walks up to you and hands you a cup of water and some hangover medicine.

But you don't accept it from him. Instead, you stare at him uncertainly, distrust shining brightly in your eyes, piercing his heart. He swallows, trying to get rid of the feeling of pain.

"You are aware I am the same man I was 24 hours ago?" he asks jokingly, setting the glass and medications on the nightstand next to you. He doesn't sit on the bed; he stands next to it, giving you some space. He must act methodically and carefully. Approaching you like a deer… or stag.

"No, you are not." you say it stubbornly, glancing at the things he left on the bedside table.

You raise a glass and look at the drugs carefully. Fortunately, he refrains from snorting, disbelieving that Baghra only needed a few hours of conversation to turn you against him. YOU. The only person he showed the parts of Aleksander hidden deeply in the darkest parts of himself from the world.

"Y/N... please. I just want to talk."

"About what? How have you been lying to me?" she asks him hostilely, looking at him defiantly. He knows that look and attitude. He had seen you like this more than once, when you were interrogating the Fjerdans they had captured. He never wanted to be at their place. And there he was.

"About how can I fix the way you think about me because of my mother, who isn't as much of my fan as you can guess now?"

"Well, at least now I know who you inherited this attitude from." you huff, getting out of bed. You reach for your folded kefta on the chair he left for you and start to put it on yourself.

"I beg your pardon? I am nothing like her."

"You even wrinkle your nose in the same way when something irritates or annoys you." you point it out, and he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head as he walks over to you. It's not too close, though. After yesterday, he knows better than to try to treat you with the same tenderness as before. Even if he desperately wants to.

"It's been many years since I thought of us as being anything remotely similar... of course, instead of being shadow summoners, immortals, and Morozovas."

"Wait, Morozova? Like... like the stag of Morozova?"

"Yes. Like the stag of my grandfather." he admits, shocking you even more. He watches the gears in your head turn as you uncover the hidden truth, connecting the lies Baghra told you with what he managed to reveal to you about himself.

"So not only are you… a Black Heretic, but you're also Morozova's grandson?"

"Y/N... I know it can seem complicated for you..."

"No! No. Nothing is complicated. You... you created the fold. And now you chase the stag to get its bones so you can amplify your and Alina's power to have full control of the fold. To take control of Ravka and call yourself a king."

"That's... not exactly the truth." he says, taking a step towards you. You automatically move away from him, and he clenches his jaw in frustration and anger at his mother and you for so easily believing Baghra's words.

"And what should I've believed in? You've been lying to me all this time!"

"Telling you half a story is not the same as lying." he defends himself, now staring at you with an equally obstinate gaze as you both stubbornly stick to your opinion.

"Maybe in your point of view, but not in mine." he sighs at your words, running a hand through his hair. You see his shadows hovering in the corners of his chambers as he stares at you in annoyance.

"I do not understand your behaviour. Nothing happened. You know that I was slowly revealing pieces of myself and my past. I guess you didn't expect me to tell you right away that I am... a Black Heretic. That I had lived a hundred lives, that I had to be reborn each time as somebody else to keep my existence in hiding. What other choice did I have?"

"That's the problem, Aleksander, you don't see any other solutions. You go with what is easiest for you." he huffs furiously and walks over to you. You fall back, bumping into a wall.

"Yes, because fawning over the king for hundreds of years to keep my Grisha safe is the easiest thing to do. You have no idea what I went through to give my people what we have now. If it weren't for me, you would be running away from Ravkans, Fjerdans, Shu Hans, and other beasts that want us dead or experiment on us. You don't know what it's like to go hungry, to have no roof over your head, to fear every day for your life and the lives of your loved ones, to see them die, and to bury every single person you have ever cared about. And do you know why? Because thanks to me, Grisha are now treated better than animals." he's now standing exactly a step away from you, breathing heavily with anger as he glares at you defiantly. He doesn't touch you, but you feel his heavy breath on your cheek.

"Creating a golden cage from the fold will not make us safe. You cannot isolate yourself from all evil and danger. You have to fight it. I never thought you were a coward, Aleksander. Don't make me believe you're really someone else."

You manage to push him past so you can walk towards the exit. He grabs your elbow, stopping you from leaving. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make you stop right there.

"What are you going to do?" he asks after a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, staring intensely at the back of your head, waiting for any movement from you.

"Nothing. You are still my general. Besides, I doubt anyone would believe me if I tried to tell the world who you really are. And don't worry. I won't tell Alina that you want to claim her power to yourself."

"It's not like that at all…"

"DON'T." you say furiously and sharply, turning to him slowly to meet his gaze. It takes all of your strength to hold back your tears that are also shining in his eyes. “Don't lie to me anymore.”

"Milaya..." he whispers desperatly, trembling as he is reaching to cup your cheek in his hand, but you pull away from him before his fingertips can touch your skin.

"If you want to prove that Baghra lied, that you weren't pretending to be a boy hurt by the world just because you were looking for some sick feeling of comfort or normality from me... if you want to prove that I'm not another Luda for you, someone who only reminds you of your great love, then prove it to me. Prove that you are a better man than Baghra taught you to be and describes you."

"The world needs a monster to change, Y/N, not a saint or hero."

"You are good, Aleksander." you say, taking a step towards him and cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. His beard tickles you a little, but you don't mind as you stroke his skin with your thumbs, keeping those dark, teary irises focused entirely on you. "I see it every time. In your patience with the little Grisha, in your concern for the well-being of each of us, in how sweet and protective you are around the people you care about... in the fact that despite hundreds of years, you still have a fragment of humanity preserved. You don't have to be rough. You don't have to be evil and ruthless. Baghra taught you that you won't survive by showing weakness and taking care of the people you outlive, but you are not like her. You are not a monster. Please don't prove me wrong. Don't prove to me that you don't care who suffers, Ravkans, Fjerdans, or others, as long as you win and achieve your goal, however honourable and glorious it may seem." you whisper the last sentence shakily and tilt his head, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. You close your eyes for a moment, absorbing his warmth and scent and memorising it.

You finally pull away from him and leave his chambers without looking back. He gives you a longing look and closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. His eyes land on the plans spread out on his war table.

And he can't help but wonder: Is everything he has worked for all these centuries worth standing utterly alone at the end of his glorious purpose?

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ladykailitha · 7 months

Text

Royal Pain Part 28

Hello! This is the last chapter before the epilogue. I'm so grateful for everyone who's still reading this little big story. Longest thing I've ever written. It caps out at nearly 60k words. I want to thank the people who have been reading this since day one and all the people that joined us for the ride along the way.

I love reading your comments and theories. I especially loved reading the freak outs over cliffhangers and the abuse I piled on our poor boys. But I am a sucker for happy endings.

Also a little treat for @goodolefashionedloverboi who wanted this way back in part 21.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24 Pt 25 Pt 26 Pt 27

***

“Steve!” Robin called out. “Your boyfriend is here!”

Steve came running out of the back room. His grin nearly split his face in two.

He lifted Eddie up and spun him around. Eddie laughed out loud.

“Put me down, you menace!” Eddie said between gasps of giggles.

Steve gently put him down. And then kissed him right in front of Robin.

Who promptly fake gagged.

“Shush you,” Steve said. “You should be grateful I didn’t let him keep me in bed this morning.”

Robin gasped. “Betrayal! And in front of my coffee no less!” She covered her coffee with her hands as if to shield it from the scene in front of her.

Eddie laughed. “Sorry there Birdie, it was a very near thing. I had to be bribed!”

She shook her head. “Go on, get! Before you ruin my coffee with your sugary sweetness.”

Steve and Eddie just smiled and walked back to Steve’s room, hands in each other’s back pockets.

Once they got to the room, Eddie was all over Steve. Hands tangled in his hair, lips on that perfect mouth. Gripping the back of Eddie’s shirt was all he could do to keep upright.

“Baby,” Eddie whined when they finally broke apart. “I missed you so much. I promise to never leave you like that again.”

Steve nuzzled their noses together and sighed happily. “I know, Eds. I missed you too.”

Eddie stepped back to take off his shirt and Steve scanned over the expanse of his chest.

Eddie caught the look and grinned. “No new tattoos, sweetheart. I don’t trust anyone else but you.”

Steve blushed. “That’s nice to hear, beautiful. But I was just ogling my boyfriend.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, okay that’s fair.” He walked over the chair and straddled it, resting his head on his folded arms.

“Let’s get this bad boy done, shall we?” Steve sighed happily.

“Sure thing, darlin’,” Eddie murmured. “Can’t wait.”

Steve started up his gun and got to work. All the while they chatted about the lighter stuff of the last three weeks. Eddie caught up on all the shop gossip.

“Honestly,” Steve said, “if Robin doesn’t pick soon, she’s going to be in the world’s most awkward polycule.”

Eddie laughed. “She’ll figure it out. But I guess Birdie really has a thing for redheads.”

Steve chuckled too. “Oh, yeah. Pretty much always had. Except once with Nancy back in high school. But that was more a ‘everyone had a crush on Nancy’ thing then a specific crush.”

Eddie hummed. “You said you had a thing for curly haired smart people with soulful eyes. You were talking about me too, right?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Oh yeah. I’m not a subtle person when it comes to my crushes. Pretty much everyone figures it out before I do. Except in your case. I’ve had a crush on you since high school.”

“Me too, Stevie.”

“It’s about time we got our heads out of our asses, then.”

Eddie murmured his agreement and they settled into a comfortable silence.

Robin was still going to kick Eddie’s ass for making Steve sad for two weeks, but after hearing it from him how much he hated touring and how much he missed Steve, she forgave him for the most part. He sounded like he had been more miserable than Steve and that was honestly saying something.

So she went to Corroded Coffin’s return concert at the Nightmare Holes and cheered loudly for them.

She also knew she had to chose between Chrissy and Vickie soon otherwise they were going to have a cat fight.

But Robin didn’t want to chose. She liked the attention from both girls plus it would be super awkward if she chose Vickie and Chrissy stayed at the shop. But it would also be awkward working with Vickie at the front desk if she picked Chrissy.

It was a mess.

But then a lightbulb dawned over her head. Maybe she didn’t have to chose.

She spoke to them on their way to the club and ended up dancing with both of them all night.

Steve waved at the rest of the band as Eddie dragged him to his car, eager to get back to Steve’s apartment.

Steve laughed as Eddie shoved him into the passenger seat of his own car and got in the driver’s seat.

“Someone’s in a hurry there,” Steve teased.

“Stevie darling,” Eddie said. “I am vibrating out of my skin here with anticipation and if I don’t see that tattoo of yours soon, I’m might go absolutely feral. Do you understand?”

He laughed. “Yeah, baby, I hear you.”

Eddie breathed out and drove to the apartment. They walked up the stairs and once the door was closed behind they were all over each other. Hands and mouths all over as they tumbled onto the sofa.

Shirts were the first to fly, Steve careful with Eddie’s still healing tattoo.

“Baby,” Eddie whined. “Is your tattoo healed?”

Steve wiggled underneath him. “For the most part, it’s been about two weeks.”

Eddie let out another whine. “This won’t hurt you?”

Steve shook his head. “The scab is already gone. I heal fast.”

Eddie undid Steve’s jeans and slid them down his legs. He looked up at Steve for permission for the final layer of clothes to be removed. Steve nodded and lifted his hips for Eddie to slide off his underwear.

Eddie gasped when he saw it.

His thumb gently rubbed over the tattoo. It wasn’t very large, about the size of a half dollar. It was a simple heart with bat wings and a little crown.

“Baby, is this us?” he asked, breathless.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“I love it, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered. “And when my back is done, I am going to get it done on me, too.”

Steve’s eyes glistened with happy tears. “Okay, yeah. Suddenly I need that.”

Eddie kissed him deeply. “Me, too. I need you so much.”

They got Eddie’s pants and underwear off and Steve moaned at the long, graceful lines of his boyfriend’s lean body.

“Fuck, Eds,” Steve murmured. “I can’t wait to taste you.”

Eddie threw his head back and moaned. They had to be careful with Eddie’s still healing back, but they managed to make do and had a great time.

Once they had cleaned up and dressed, Steve began making dinner.

“So how did your meeting with Murray Bauman go?” he asked as he fried up the chicken for fajitas.

“It went great,” Eddie said. “Cec is still going to bring the contract to one of his law professors to make sure he didn’t miss any hidden bullshit, but yeah. It seems like Corroded Coffin is going to make an EP.”

Steve hummed. “And that different than a full record, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding. “It’s about five songs. But it’s what most new artists get. The record company doesn’t want to spend a boat load of money on an LP only for the band to not go anywhere.”

“That makes sense,” Steve murmured. “And you guys are going to keep working at the Nightmare Holes?”

Eddie nodded again. “Yeah, and if the record hits big, we can renegotiate our contract with Rick to get more money each week.”

“That’s great,” Steve said with a smile.

“And you and your genius schedule is going to work out great,” Eddie said with an answering grin. “They’ll even send a car for us every time, too.”

“Wow,” Steve said. “That’s awesome. Looks like I’m going have a rockstar boyfriend.”

“A perfect compliment to my tattoo artist boyfriend.”

Steve came over to where Eddie was seated at the table to kiss him. “Perfect indeed.”

They had dinner and sat down to watch a movie. They curled up on the sofa and just enjoyed each other’s company. Like they had so many times before.

Other than the sex, they were still Eddie and Steve. They still enjoyed the same movies, food, and music that they did before they got together.

They were just finally on the same page.

Once the movie was over, Eddie pulled out his guitar.

“You ready for this, baby?” he asked as Steve turned to face him on the couch.

Eddie played the first song he wrote on the road, the one that made Jeff and the others cry.

Tears streamed down Steve’s cheeks, too. “I’m sorry you were so lonely, Eds. I’m glad you’re home now.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he murmured. “But I think you’ll like this one more.”

And he play the most beautiful, heart-stoppingly romantic song Steve had ever heard and it was for him. About them. And he was crying for a completely different reason now.

“Sunshine,” Steve said through his tears. “That was amazing. They both were. Thank you for sharing them with me.”

Eddie kissed him fiercely over the guitar. “Just you wait, Stevie. You’re going to get a life time of sappy love songs.”

“And I’ll cherish every single one.”

They got ready for bed and snuggled up together, falling asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning led to morning sex, showers, and breakfast, never too far apart.

They were getting ready for a walk in the park when they got to witness a Robin Buckley walk of shame.

She opened the door and jumped when she saw them. “Shit!”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance.

“And what time do you call this, young lady,” Eddie teased.

Robin blushed all the way to her roots. She pulled out her phone. “Uh...11:13am?”

Eddie cackled as Steve grinned.

“And which lovely lady did you go home with last night?” Steve asked.

Robin’s blush deepened. “Both?”

Eddie and Steve glanced at each other again.

“You want to repeat that?” Eddie asked.

She shrugged. “I couldn’t decide. And Chrissy had hit on Vickie before, which lead to us talking to Vickie and once it was made clear that it wasn’t just a one time threesome she decided she was down for poly relationship.”

Eddie and Steve both held up their fists for her to bump and she fist bumped them both at the same time.

“You go girl!” Eddie crowed.

“Hell, yeah, Robs,” Steve said. “That’s awesome!”

“Where are you two love birds going?” Robin asked.

“Just for a walk in the park.”

“Have fun.”

***

Epilogue

Tag list: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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daydreamgoddess14 · 11 months

Text

Support System pt. 9

Roy Kent x Reader - domestic fluff and hints of further spice to come 😍

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8

MASTERLIST

~~~~~~~~

You're enjoying the hottest shower you can bear and also not looking forward to going back to your poor water pressure trickle when he taps on the door.

"Why you knocking?" You laugh over the pounding water.

"Don't want to catch you doing something you don't want me to know about, " he says with a wink. You turn the shower off and step into the towel he's holding out. "Your phones been going mad, I hope you don't mind but I wanted to check it wasn't Lexie?"

"Thank you, course I don't." You take the phone and look through the notifications. "Lots from your sister, she's seen the red carpet pictures… shit, the pictures!" You keep scrolling, reaching with your other hand to hold onto his t-shirt. He takes you hand and kisses the palm. "Ah. Here we go." You hold it up to show him. A slew of messages and missed calls from Andy.

"Fuck. What a knob. Come on, I've made tea. Do you want to read them while I get angry or the other way around?"

"Ooh we can switch and both get angry."

"Can't do that, you look really hot when you're mad and we haven't got enough time for that."

"Uhh you need talk? Jamie asked me last night if permanent concussion was a thing from all the times you've headbutted him." He holds his hands up, backing out the door.

"I deny everything." He leaves you to pull on some leggings and one of his Richmond t-shirts (no name on the back). You bounce down the stairs, your heels from the night before discarded at the bottom. Your dress had been left there too but Roy's obviously rescued it and draped it over the back of the sofa.

"Thank you for saving the dress." You tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"It's only down here so I can put it on you again and then take it back off."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't think we had time for that this morning?" You tease. You sit up on one of the barstools and he steps between your legs, holding out a piece of toast.

"We don't, but I can look at it and dream." He sneaks a kiss before passing your breakfast and moves to stand behind you.

"I see what you're doing, feed me, put me in a good mood before I have to read these stupid messages?"

"Is it working?" He kisses your neck.

"No."

"Yes," a laugh which makes you shiver.

"Fine, yes. OK, what have we got…" You unlock the phone and open Andy’s contact page. "Ready?" He nods into your shoulder.

" Now I see why you said no to getting back together. Starting tame, also he's not wrong. I'll allow it. You look like a slag in that dress. Juicy, god I haven't heard the word slag for years!" Roy growls. " I'm guessing Lexie doesn't know. She will when she wakes up. Hmm. OK. I mean, she likes you so I think we can cope with that situation. I think she'll be OK?"

"She's a fucking great kid, smart as hell. She'll be OK." He assures you.

"There's more. He must have been pretty drunk by these I think. Bet he can't even fuck you with that dodgy knee. Uhhh, better than anyone. Ever. Ever." You feel his grin against your neck. "Don't get a big head."

"Not my head." He laughs, his beard and warm breath tickling you.

"Ohhh stop doing that. Moving on. I'm sorry you dint really look like a slut. or slag. Ah, spelling and memory are becoming an issue. Oh god, he's back to sex. No idea why, he has literally zero to brag about. can't believe that wanker gets to fuck you in that dress bitch I wud fuk u better. Wow, that one is a real mess. Its the last one, I'm guessing he passed out after that because that last bit is just wishful thinking on his part."

"Didn't he have Lexie?"

"She went to his mums I think, he was going to the West Ham match."

"Good fucking job, if I find out he's getting wasted while she's with him-" You spin the seat around to face him again,

"You'll do nothing. I'll rip his dick off with my bare hands though."

"Fuck me, you're hot when you're angry."

"I should go and get her. I just need to check where from. Are you with Jamie today?"

"Yeah, but I can see him later if you want me to come with you?"

"I'll be OK. How shall we tell her? Do you want to be there?"

"Your call babe, whatever you think she'd prefer? I'd rather not scare the shit out of her."

"I'll get her and go back to mine. You could come over when you're done later if you want? If she asks me, I won't lie to her but if she doesn't, then we can tell her together? I'll cook for you for a change."

"Perfect. Do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Wear this when you pick her up." He traces over your heart where it turns out, his name is on the shirt embroidered above the Richmond logo.

"Baby, I would turn up in a full kit with your name on the back. Knee socks included, and football boots, just to piss him off." He kisses you fiercely,

"Now you're just talking dirty to me," he mutters.

"Yep, you love it. Come on, I bet Jamie's dying for gossip and I've got to get going." You text Andy while throwing only the important things in your bag. You're sure you've left a breadcrumb trail of your belongings around the house, but you know Roy won't mind. You head out together, the walk taking you both in the same direction for much of the journey. "Did you need to do anything about the photos?"

"Nah, no point in retracting them now and you look fit so the whole world can see them for all I care."

"Including your mum."

"Including my m-, shit, yeah I'd better call her. And your parents? Are they gonna wonder what the fucks going on?"

"I'll take Lexie round that way on our way home I think. Appease them."

"Nice one. Right, this is the Tartt's palace. See you later. Good luck, don't fucking kill him without me there to watch."

"Hmm I'll try. Don't make Jamie vom, he was trying really hard not to get too drunk last night but I don't think he was very successful."

"Story of his life. Love you." You smile up at him,

"Love you too." Jamie has the door open before Roy's even hallway through the gate, waving at you. You wave back and carry on up to Andy’s mum's house. She had been largely on your side up to now, annoyed with Andy for breaking up the family and worried that she'd see less of Lexie because of it. You'd reassured her repeatedly, taken Lexie in for tea on the way home from school, picked up bits of shopping for her and gently tried to let her know that nothing had to change between them. You weren't so sure that would be the case this morning.

~~~~~~~~

Andy’s car was on the drive so you braced yourself.

"Darling girl, come in! Tea?"

"Hi Daph, yes please. I've only had time for one this morning." So far, so good.

"Sore head?" She asked knowingly.

"Not too bad. I suspect someone else is more hungover than me."

"You're not wrong. Did he give you crap?"

"A bit. How was Lex?"

"Oh golden, we had a lovely night. She's none the wiser by the way." She leads you from your hushed conversation in the hallway to her kitchen where Lexie sat eating breakfast and Andy hovered with a coffee in hand.

"Morning poppet, did you have a good night with Gran?"

"Yeah, we watched the new Matilda film!"

"And she hasn't stopped singing the songs yet!" Lexie grinned at her Gran.

"Show me later. Did you do your homework with Dad?" She nodded through a mouthful of cereal. Andy had yet to acknowledge you so far. "Shall we pop and see Nanny and Pop-pop on the way home?" Her face lights up, Andy grunts from the corner of the room.

"Something to tell the folks eh?"

"Nothing we haven't already talked about." You quickly come up with the white lie. You don't want him to have the satisfaction that you're on clean up duty today. Lexie finishes her breakfast, puts her bowl in the sink and gives Daph a big hug.

"Thank you Gran."

"Anytime pickle. Have a lovely week at school."

"And bye to Dad?" You prompt her, finishing your tea. You manage to leave without being cornered by Andy, it's pretty clear that his mum has told him to keep his mouth shut, so the short distance to your parents is a happy one. Your dad is already in the garden checking his plants and you can see your mum in the kitchen window beaming at Lexie. "Morning!" You call out, Lexie runs straight in so you go to your dad first. "Hiya dad."

"Morning poppet," the same nickname you use for Lexie makes you smile. "Saw the paper."

"Hmm I thought you might have."

"Isn't he an almighty arsehole? I saw him on Sky Sports news, proper miserable bugger." You laugh at your dad's straight to the point question.

"I still need to talk to Lexie, so I can't really talk about it too much, but he's so lovely dad. He's a grumpy fucker but he loves me, and Lexie too. It's early days, but he makes me very happy." Your dad stays quiet, just a grunt of acknowledgement.

"I'll see about that. You'll bring him?"

"Soon, let's get the season finished first. It's a busy couple of weeks."

"Any luck on the job front?"

"Not yet."

"I hope you're not planning on just letting him support you? I didn't raise you like that."

"Dad! Course I'm not!" It stings a bit that he'd even ask that. You leave him to his tomato plants and go in to your mum.

"Morning, love. Good night?"

"Yeah, thank you." Lexie is distracted by the baking your mum has already started, "you're not going to ask if I'm in it for the money as well are you?" Your mum laughs,

"Don't be daft. Nice t-shirt," she notes. "Does the situation make you happy?" She asks cryptically for Lexie's benefit.

"Very."

"Well that's enough for me for now. More details to follow though please. And you looked beautiful, my sweetheart."

"Thank you."

"He's very handsome. The only reason I'd put up with your dad watching Sky Sports news, really. Don't tell him I said that."

"I'm not telling either of them. Don't want him leaving me for my hot mum!" You stay long enough for Lexie the bottomless pit to have one of your mums famed apple muffins and pack up a couple to take for Roy, thankful that they can't ask too much with Lexie around. You plan to walk home via the park so text Sara who meets you with Phoebe.

"How did the parental rounds go? Roy called this morning, said you'd have to deal with Andy's mum as well?"

"The mums are fine, I think. Turns out he's got a good fanbase in older women."

"Oh that'll be his yoga women theory rumbled then. So confident they have no idea who he is! Like their husbands aren't all glued to weekend football."

"My dad asked if I was a golddigger."

"Ouch, rude!"

"Just making sure I'm not throwing my career away."

"What career?" She sniggers.

"Oi, cheek!"

"You looked so great together last night. The pictures were amazing."

"It didn't even cross my mind that they'd get attention like that. I wasn't expecting damage control this morning, or to have to tell those two so soon." You look over at where the girls are playing.

"Phebs hasn't mentioned it yet, but it won't take long. You haven't got to see the playground parents tomorrow have you? That'll be fun, they love a bit of extracurricular shagging!"

"No, she's at breakfast club thankfully! I'm going to tell her this afternoon."

"Good idea, gotta do it before anyone else can." You say goodbye with plans to watch the following week's Man City game together with the girls and to catch up in the week at school.

~~~~~~~~

You're considering tackling the mountain of washing and more job applications when the front door knocks. Lexie, who's been quiet all morning, jumps up to open it. You can just about see the front door from the kitchen, so the first thing you see is Roy handing Lexie a bunch of pink tulips.

"For me?" She squeaks, "really?"

"Is that OK?"

"Only mum has ever brought me flowers before! Mum! Roy brought me flowers!" She rushes in to show you, shaking the bunch in her little fist.

"Oh honey, they're beautiful! Shall I help you put them in water?"

"Can you do it? I'm making friendship bracelets."

"'Scuse me?"

"Pleaseee?"

"That's better, yes, I can do that for you." She puts the flowers on the table and runs back to the living room, high fiving Roy on the way past. "Someone is on the charm offensive."

"Oh big time," he pulled another bunch from behind his back, peonies.

"How did you know?"

"Dunno what you're talking about." He checked the door before kissing you lightly, you cock your head to one side, "alright yeah, Lexie told me last week when you were out shopping with Sar."

"I knew you were a softy really."

"Only for you, don't get destroying my fucking tough man image."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I like that side too. Did you make Jamie vomit?"

"Unfortunately no. Did you kill anyone?"

"Unfortunately no. Bad mornings all round." He hasn't moved from your side yet and keeps looking to the door. "I think you're safe. She's making Richmond coloured bracelets for the match, we're watching with your mum and sister."

"So I've heard, means I'd better tell my mum about you then." At the knowledge that you shouldn't be interrupted for a few moments, he takes the opportunity to crowd you against the counter and really kiss you. You tilt your head to give you both better access and he sweeps his tongue over your bottom lip before biting it. The small gesture sends a wave of pleasure through your body and your hands go to the hem of his t-shirt of their own accord. You slide them just underneath enough to feel the warm skin on his stomach. The lightest scratch of your nails so close to the waistband of his jeans makes him growl into the kiss. "I've got to stop," he groans, pulling away from you. You can't help the desperate, needy moan at the loss of contact, and the look he gives you from that sound alone is enough to leave you trembling. You take a second to get your breath back and go back to sorting out the flowers. "Has she asked?" He questions once it feels safe enough to talk again.

"Not yet. I'm going to go and talk to her, you're welcome to come with me?" He squeezes your hand reassuringly but makes sure to let it go once you're in the living room. "Hey, Lex? I need to tell you some that you might end up hearing about from someone else, I wanted to be able to tell you first though?" She sits up and starts measuring your wrist for a friendship bracelet.

"Is it about Roy?"

"Uhh yeah, how did you know?" She shrugs,

"He's here. And he brought flowers." You nod,

"Right, of course. Yeah, it's about Roy. He asked me out to a fancy party last night. You might see some pictures of us-"

"Have you got them, can I see now?"

"Sure, I just need to get my phone." You're about to stand when Roy passes you his phone instead, and you see the lockscreen is one of the pictures from the night before. You hold it out to her,

"You guys look so cute." Roy grunts at being called 'cute', "It's true!" She says, taking up his wrist to measure him for a bracelet. "So he's like, your boyfriend?" You steal a quick look at him, his eyebrows raise in anticipation of your answer.

"Yeah. Is that ok?" Lexie shrugs,

"Sure, you're cooler than dad's new girlfriend but they broke up already. And now I get to meet footballers and hang out with Phoebe even more. She said we could be cousins and I told her I didn't have any so she said we should definitely do that. Can we?"

"Let's ummm… cousins is a very big step for you both. You really need to make sure you're ready so just slow down a bit there." Roy is sniggering at the big deal you've made cousins out to be, but Lexie is having none of it.

"Mum, I think we'd be OK. We're nearly 9. We're not babies. I think you should just be brave and let us do it."

"Thanks for that input bunny, I'll take the cousins thing super seriously, ok?" She accepts your suggestion and thankfully drops the conversation. In the safety of the kitchen, you lean into him and let his arms wrap around you. "That was so scary. Why are 8 year olds so fucking terrifying?!"

"You were the shit, I fucking loved that." He laughs, his chest rumbling against yours. You stand together until Roy's phone rings and disturbs you. "It's Phoebe. Alright love?" He asks her. You can hear the squeal through the phone but can't make out what she's actually saying. You move away from Roy and give him a big thumbs up and a: you got this ! He doesn't look convinced, despite you only just telling him how scary it was. You can only hear his side of the call. "Nan saw the pictures? Yeah it was a fucking great dress. Yeah alright, I owe you. Worth it. No, this doesn't mean you're cousins now. You can be cousins when I tell you so. Cos it'll be up to me! Phoebe, put nan on the phone. Mum? Yeah she's OK. I'll come and see you tomorrow. I will, love you." He hangs up and you wait. "Phoebe is suddenly obsessed with cousins and mum wanted to check you were ok." You smile,

"I think that went well then. All the mums are on board, all the kids, I'm claiming the win."

You cooked dinner, as promised and let Lexie watch a film with Roy afterwards while you packed her school bag and your work things. He left at her bedtime, leaving you with a kiss at the door.

"Maybe Roy could have a sleepover next time, mum," she said halfway to sleep, "but you can't steal all the covers or he'll get cold."

"Thanks poppet, I'll make sure I don't steal the covers."

~~~~~~~~

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #roy kent #roy kent imagine #roy kent smut #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #roy kent fic

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thedreamlessnights · 7 months

Text

Someone to shed some light - pt. 6

Astarion x gn!reader

{series masterlist}

Synopsis: You learn your place in Calthir and what that means for your future. An unexpected conversation is overheard, and it changes everything.

Warnings: Threats of suicide/self-harm, very brief suicidal ideation, mentions of blood and death.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading, you have no idea how much I appreciate you! Your comments on each chapter are so inspiring and I've been having so much fun working on this fic. There sadly isn't as much Astarion interaction in this chapter, but there'll be plenty of that to come. I hope you enjoy! And thank you once again to @aerynwrites for brainstorming over this chapter with me and making the lovely header image!

It’s the harsh light of the morning sun that pulls you from a lovely dream, scalding into the sensitive skin of your eyelids and searing at your skin. Even through the tent, it’s unbearable. Or, perhaps, it’s the memories that accompany it that you can’t stand.

Within seconds, the dream is gone - a sweet, fleeting picture lost to a bitter reality - and you’re left laying on your side, aching in every part of yourself. Mind, body, and soul.

All your anger at Cal has seeped out of you and left something else entirely: numbness. Gods, you feel absolutely nothing. Or - no, that’s not quite right. You feel hollowed out. It’s as though every muscle of yours has been filled with lead. You can’t find it in yourself to get up.

Astarion isn’t at your side, but when you force yourself to shift a little, you see he’s still in the tent - very clearly eavesdropping on a conversation taking place outside. His head is tilted toward the sound and his shoulders are tensed: ready to leap out of the way should he hear someone coming. He’s nimble enough, surely.

For a moment, you stare at him, the half-view of his form that you’re able to see from your bedroll. Pinched brows, a deep frown, dark eyelashes that meet his cheek when he looks down, lost in whatever he’s listening to.

What is he thinking? What’s caught his interest so keenly? And, gods, there’s something softened about his features that you’ve never really seen. It takes you a moment to connect why.

This is Astarion as he really is. No show to put on. No royal mask, no seductive charm. Just himself, almost alone in this tent, sitting under the sun and listening to something he shouldn’t. The only thing comparable to this is when you’d caught him sunbathing at the palace, lost in the feeling of the warmth of his skin.

Even after last night, it’s clear he still hasn’t let his guard down around you. Given everything that’s happened, it’s not difficult to guess why. With time, perhaps. But, for now, you need to stop staring at him.

Sit up, you instruct yourself. You need to sit up.

Your body doesn’t budge at first, but you’ll be damned if one measly betrayal is going to rob you of your motivation. You force yourself up, wincing at the stiffness of your joints, shaking away the fog that’s overtaken your head.

Upright as you are, the anger slowly returns. You like it. You thrive on it. It’s something to feed off of, something to fuel you. The numbness hadn’t worked like that. It had been so - empty. You’ll take anger any day.

Astarion still hasn’t moved.

“Hearing anything interesting?” you ask softly, and though he doesn’t turn to look at you, his head tilts ever so slightly in your direction, letting you know he’d heard you.

“That Aris has just arrived,” he says. “I’m sure it won’t be long before they all darken our door.”

“Lovely.” You fold your arms around your knees, stomach suddenly churning. “Freedom was nice while it lasted, I suppose.”

“It was,” he agrees. “A shame. Just when I was almost enjoying it, too.”

Your smile falls weak on your lips, but he can’t see it. You know you should eat, but you doubt that you’d be able to stomach anything. Instead, you pull out one of the bottles of water in your pack and take a tentative sip, praying that it won’t disturb your stomach.

After a moment, Astarion finally moves to get dressed for the day, and you catch a brief flash of the scar on his neck before it’s covered up. Two puncture wounds. The mark of the bite that turned him, marred into his flesh. It doesn’t pass your notice that he chooses a high-collared shirt.

You wonder if he knows that you’ll die before exposing him to these people.

Maybe, if Cal hadn’t betrayed you, Calthir would feel like an extension of you. Your kingdom. Your people. Instead, it’s just another prison. These soldiers mulling the camp are strangers, and you have no loyalty to them. You certainly won’t be what they’d expected of you.

What the hells did they do to you, Cal had asked. Are you the one who is different, or is he? You don’t feel different. Yes, you care about Astarion now. Yes, you’re on the run - or, you had been. But had that shifted you so much? Are you so changed?

It occurs to you that Cal may not have ever known you at all.

You scramble into a change of clothes before the leader can arrive, and when you hear the approach of footsteps, your throat tightens. The tent is pulled open without warning, and the sun that streams in burns your eyes. You hold your arm to your face, attempting to block some of it out, but you still can barely see the figures standing before you.

“Come on,” a voice says. “Out.”

You make your way to your feet, keeping your shoulders squared and your back straight. They won’t break you. Your fists are gearing for a fight. Your teeth are ready to draw blood.

Astarion follows after you without so much as a word, and the two of you find yourself in front of a group of armored soldiers. Aris is clear from the moment you see her: her composure says enough, and so does the anxious way her men stand behind her. A high elf. Long, dark hair, braided into a neat updo. Piercing green eyes.

“My, my,” she says. “It’s not every day that the ruler of Calthir walks straight into my camp.”

Is that what Cal had told her? He’s nowhere to be seen.

Her glance skates next to you, and when it lands on Astarion, she frowns. “And who is this?”

She really doesn’t know?

“This is Lirien,” you answer quickly, subtly shifting your right hand over your left to hide your wedding ring. “He helped me escape.”

Aris quirks a brow, cocking her head and folding her arms across her chest. “How interesting,” she says. “You see, I got a report last night that one of Queen Erelin’s carriages was attacked not two days ago. The two occupants inside are now missing, but presumably still alive. Occupants who happen to match your description.” She pauses, keeping her eyes locked on you. “One of whom was her son.”

The blood slowly drains from your face, but you hold her gaze. “That’s strange,” you reply, pasting on a smile. “I’d love to meet these doppelgängers.”

Behind you, Astarion lets out a loud sigh.

You turn to look at him, staring in sheer disbelief. “Really? You could try to play along!”

“Er - yes,” Astarion says flatly. “I’m Lirien.”

Aris shakes her head, clearly unimpressed. “Had enough?” she asks, framing her hands on her hips. “You brought an Ancunín with you. The heir to our enemy kingdom. I… I’m appalled. I really am. I don’t know whether to call you a fool or thank you for delivering him to us. In any case…” She turns toward Astarion, eyes scanning over him, and something like admiration forms in her gaze. “My deepest apologies, pretty boy. Your death is a necessary sacrifice for Calthir. ”

She makes a gesture toward her guards, crooking two of her fingers, but you act before they can. Your hand flashes out to the side - or more precisely, toward the dagger you know is in Astarion’s belt. It’s removed and pressed to your neck in an instant, the chill of the blade kissing the delicate skin of your throat.

Aris jumps, holding out her hand. “Wait-!”

“What in the hells?” Astarion exclaims, staring at you as though you’re crazy. And, well, maybe you are. But you’ve played your fair share of card games. This isn’t much different.

“Let’s be honest with each other, shall we?” you ask, facing Aris. “I admit it: this is Astarion Ancunín. But you’re not going to lay a hand on him, or I’ll cut my throat here and now, and you’ll be without your precious ruler.”

Aris stares at you, raising a brow. She’s disturbingly calm. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” you ask, pressing the blade further in. It stings, but doesn’t quite pierce the skin. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t exactly have much to live for. If I stay, I’m either a pawn for you, or a pawn for Erelin. Astarion is the only thing I have going for me. Leave him alive, let him stay with me, and I’ll go with you. Do so much as lay a finger on him, and I’ll become very intimate with this blade very quickly.”

“Go ahead, then,” Aris urges, her voice steely. “We don’t need you.”

“Oh, really?” you ask. “So that’s why you’ve spent so long looking for me, wasting - what was it - hundreds of men?”

Her jaw clenches almost imperceptibly. “And who the hells told you that?” she bites out.

“Cal,” you answer. “He raised me, remember? He rubs his neck when he lies. I know he was telling the truth.”

“I can’t do what you’re asking,” Aris tells you, her tone almost pleading. “I can’t let him live.”

“In that case,” you sigh, pressing even deeper. The stinging sensation increases. A drop or two of warm blood streams down your neck, and fear finally enters her eyes. At your side, Astarion goes tense.

“Fine!” Aris says. “Bloody hells. Fine! Just put the fucking blade down!”

You keep it where it is. “Give me your word.”

“What?”

“Give me your word that he’ll go unharmed. Mentally, emotionally, physically.”

“Hells, I’ll put it in fucking writing!” she exclaims. “Just put the knife down, will you?”

You don’t remotely trust her, but you don’t have much other choice. You gently remove the dagger from your neck, reaching over to slide it back into Astarion’s sheath. He just scowls at you, looking shaken. His eyes linger on the blood on your neck for a moment, then snap back to face.

In response to his expression, you flash a smile at him. You’ve just saved his life, after all. He could at least be a little grateful.

“Can we agree that you’ll never do that again?” he hisses, leaning in close so his voice spills into your ear. He pulls a loose rag out from his shirt pocket, hastily wiping the blood away from your skin. His hands are shaking.

“Astarion,” you say softly, teasingly. “Was that concern I heard in your voice?”

He scoffs. “Just - warn me next time, will you?”

“If there is a next time,” you start, “I promise I’ll warn you in advance.”

Aris is watching you with no small amount of distaste. “If you’ll come with me,” she says stiffly, “I’ll lay down the terms of this… agreement.”

You follow after her, keeping Astarion close to you. He wraps an arm around your waist, and you wonder if it’s part of the little display the two of you are setting up. You know how this must look to them: that you’d fallen for Astarion, and brought him to this camp like a fool. That Astarion is a spy for Erelin.

And - well, one part of that thought is true. You’ve fallen for Astarion. His touch, though cold, seems to scald you even through your clothes. You’re no fool, though. You certainly hadn’t come here of your own accord, waltzing into camp. And, if Astarion is a spy, he’s doing a terrible job of it. He’d wanted to leave the moment the two of you laid eyes on this place.

You follow Aris into a tent that’s clearly used for planning. There’s a large, sprawling map of Faerûn spread over a table. Lanceboard pieces are being used to showcase all of Erelin’s forces, as well as some Calthirian outposts. There’s more of Calthir than you’d thought - some along the mountain pass, some along the borders of the city. The battle plans are scribbled hastily along the side, and it looks like there’s some disagreement about them, given how much of the text has been crossed out. It’s illegible, for the most part.

“Here,” Aris announces, scrawling down some words on the parchment in front of her. “I, Aris Alderfate, swear on my life that Astarion Anucnin will come to no harm: whether it be mentally, physically, or emotionally, by myself or anyone under my command. Satisfied?”

“How do I know that your soldiers won’t harm him?”

She clicks her tongue. “Disobeying orders is a death sentence. He’ll not suffer a scratch.”

You stare at her, trying to find any sense of deceit in her eyes, but there’s none. Her gaze is bright, and her face is open - inquisitive. “Alright,” you finally agree. Fear stirs in your stomach, thinking about how trapped you are. How cornered in, with only your life to barter. “What now?”

“Now,” she says, “your handsome prince leaves us. This is private business.”

You shake your head. “He stays.”

“You are asking me to trust the son of our enemy,” Aris hisses, placing her hands flat on the table set in front of her. “The only child of the woman who dethroned your parents. I cannot and will not trust him. I’ve spared his life, as you’ve asked, but he will not be a part of this. Do you understand?”

You can tell that she won’t budge, but it unsettles you to have Astarion out of sight. Out of sight, they can do anything to him. She may have signed that document, but you’re desperately outnumbered, and you don’t have a dagger in your hand as a bargaining chip anymore.

Seeing your face, Aris lets out a quick rush of air. “If any of this is going to work, you’ll need to trust me. This entire operation is built off of intelligence and trust.” She reaches forward, placing a hand on yours. “Trust me when I say that I have your best interests at heart. And, when this discussion is over, you’ll return to your tent and find Astarion just as he is now.”

You glance at him. He gives a light shrug, but you can see the tension etched into the crease of his brow, the squaring of his shoulders. After a long moment of internal debate, you nod.

Two guards step forward, lining themselves on either side of Astarion. “Come with us,” they instruct.

He’s led out of the tent, and a pit digs into your stomach.

“Relax,” Aris says. “I’ve given you my word. I’ll hand it to you - you’re stubborn. An idiot, maybe, but stubborn.”

You give her a half-hearted smile. “Is this how you address all your rulers?”

She straightens, letting out a sigh as she walks along the table, trailing her fingers over the map. “No,” she says. “But I don’t sugarcoat my words. Whatever you think he is to you, it’s not true. He’s trying to get you on his side. Cal was adamant you’d be too smart for that, but here we are.”

You lean forward, observing the sight in front of you. “Agree to disagree, I suppose.”

Frustration flashes over her face. “Well,” she says. “You’re a mascot, Highness. An image for the people, and that is all you’ll be. We have the forces. I have the plans. You have the royal blood. None will work without the other.”

“Alright,” you agree. “What, then?”

“We take the throne,” Aris says. “Erelin dies. This is non-negotiable. You take your rightful place as heir, and the kingdom of Calthir returns to her former glory.”

“And?” you ask. “Will I actually have a say in how I lead, or will I just be another pawn to you?”

Her expression tightens. “You’ll have a council that assists you in your decision-making,” she says, but it’s clear enough what she means. You’re nothing more than a face, a sack of precious blood. “Your marriage will be dissolved, and you’ll be settled with someone else.”

Your spine runs cold. “What?”

Her eyes pierce into you like a knife. “You’re married to the enemy’s son. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that’s a problem. Having Astarion in any position of power is a problem. You can keep him around if you like, have your fun with him, but the marriage cannot stay.”

She really does think you’re an idiot, fooling around with a handsome prince. “And who would be replacing him?” you ask.

“Duke Ravengard has proposed his son,” Aris says. “Wyll is a good man. He’ll be kind to you.”

You flinch at the suggestion. “I know Wyll,” you answer. “He’s an old friend.”

“Then you know he’d treat you with the utmost respect.”

“I do. And I also know he’d hate to be a pawn in your game,” you snap back.

Aris sighs. “If he refuses, then we have other options. First, we need to take the kingdom. Your suitors are less of a priority.”

“Then tell me how you’re planning to do it!” you exclaim. “What am I here for?”

Gods, you’re tired of her, and it hasn’t even been five minutes. If it’s going to be a lifetime of her breathing down your neck, maybe you really should run that dagger through your throat.

“That’s easy,” she replies evenly. “For you, at least. We’ll write you speeches. You’ll rally the soldiers. For the most part, you’ll sit pretty.”

“Sit pretty?” you ask, unable to hide the disgust in your voice. “I’m your ruler, and you want me to sit pretty?”

“Yes,” she says, “I do. Like I said, you have the royal blood. You’re the symbol - important only because of your image, nothing else. I’ve worked all my life to get to where I am, and I won’t let anything compromise that. So you are going to live a life of luxury, be the face of our revolution, and be fucking grateful for it!”

She takes in a deep breath, collecting herself. “You can go,” she says. “We’ll retrieve you when you’re needed. The guards will lead you back to your tent.”

Just like they had with Astarion, they cage themselves around you. It’s suffocating. The cool breeze in the air does nothing to stop the feeling.

They lead you to the same tent the two of you had been in last night, and when you crawl through the flap, you find Astarion in one piece. Unharmed, just as she’d said. The guards all leave, and you know exactly why. Cal’s spell is still there. You can almost feel it, still hot on your skin.

You pull the flap shut, absurdly angry, planting yourself at Astarion’s side. You need to hit something. Or scream, maybe.

“That bad, darling?” he asks. “You look like you’re about to explode.”

“Will she find us here?”

He blinks in surprise. “What?”

“Erelin. You said she’d never stop looking for us. Will she come for us, if she finds out the two of us are in this place?”

“Yes,” Astarion answers. “She’ll stop at nothing.” He tilts his head. “Betraying your own people?” he asks softly, though admiration lights his eyes. “That’s low, darling, even for you.”

“I’m not betraying them,” you answer. “But if she is what you say, then she’s going to find us sooner or later, isn’t she?” You pick at the edge of your shirt, hesitating. “Who do you think will win? Be honest. Just between you and me - who will win?”

He inhales sharply. “My mother’s no fool,” he says. “She married you off for a reason. She knew that Calthir was a threat. But…” He shakes his head. “Even if all of their camps are as impressive as this one, I’d place my bets on her. These Calthirian ‘recruits’ are untrained. I doubt they’ve ever seen battle. Even if they do have more men, our experience would overrule the numbers.”

You’re silent for a moment, not knowing how to respond. Which is worse - being under Erelin’s thumb again, never given the opportunity for freedom? Being nothing more than an image, married off to Wyll?

Gods, something isn’t right. If they’re having you marry Wyll, then they’d never let you keep Astarion at your side, even if they dissolved the marriage. No - something here is rotten. Unfortunately, since you can’t do a thing about it, that knowledge is pointless.

“Then I suppose we’d better wait for her,” you finally say. “And see what happens.”

There’s not much else of a choice.

The tent falls silent as you think, that pit of anger rising and ebbing as your thoughts pull at you one by one. You need them to go away; you need some peace, for once.

“Did you know your father?” you suddenly ask. “I know he died when you were young, but… do you remember him?”

“No,” Astarion answers. “I… don’t remember much of my past. Before Cazador.” He leans back, propping an arm behind himself to support him. “And you? Your real parents, I mean.”

You shake your head. “They died just after I was born. They fell ill, apparently. Cal is all I’ve ever known.” A bitter smile twists itself on your lips. “I used to think… I didn’t need anything else. He loved me, cared for me. He was as much my father as the one dead in the ground, his blood running through my veins.”

Your voice hitches, and you swallow hard. “All a lie, though.”

Astarion stares at you, his brows pinching. When he speaks, his voice is hushed. “When my mother - rescued me,” he starts, shifting, “I was… different than before. She kept trying to get me back - to normal,” he says. He smiles, but it looks more like a grimace. “She didn’t want a vampire for a son. Most days, she could barely stand to look at me. I…”

He pauses, giving a light, loose gesture, then turns his gaze to an empty spot of the tent. “I really thought she cared about me until then. How kind of her to open my eyes.”

Your hands clench into the pillow under you. You force them to relax. “It sounds like she wanted a trophy rather than a son,” you tell him. “You deserve better than that.”

He tuts. “Bleeding heart, spouse of mine,” he responds, leaning toward you. “Come here, darling.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, and the outside world melts away.

When you finally gather the strength to emerge from your tent that evening, Cal is waiting for you.

The sight of him carves a fresh, bleeding stab of pain into your chest. You keep your eyes very pointedly on the empty space in front of you, and he sighs.

“So this is it, then?” he asks. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

You whirl around on him, hands clenching into fists. “And what would you have me do, Cal? Jump for joy at the sight of you, after what you did? I’ve just heard your kingdom’s wonderful plans for me, and I’m supposed to - what? Be thankful that you’re imprisoning me? You lot are worse than Erelin!”

He flinches at the mention of the queen, but his shoulders square. “Gods below,” he says. “I know you’re upset, but if you’d just listen-”

“-Listen to what?” you ask. “To you, somehow making this better?”

“To reason!” Cal snaps. “For the sake of the gods. Listen to reason, child.”

When you don’t respond, trying to keep yourself from losing it all, he steps closer and lays his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. “I know how Aris can be,” he says gently. “I know how you must feel. She is our leader, yes, but only out of necessity. She knows what must be done and is willing to do it. She’s not your parents, or their legacy.”

He shakes his head, continuing softly. “She wants to feel in control, you understand. But it’s you - you’re the one the soldiers are here for. Not her. If she loses you, she’ll have nothing. We’ve worked so hard - and the gods know I’ve tried my best with you. Keeping you safe, keeping you shielded from what you are: it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

He steps a little closer, and the familiar scent of him, cinnamon and sandalwood, is making you want to fling yourself in his arms. When you were small, he used to wrap those arms around you and squeeze, claiming he was squeezing away all your sadness. What you wouldn’t give to feel such comfort again.

“Don’t confuse Aris with Calthir,” he says. “She’s intense, but she alone does not signify what this kingdom stands for.”

“And what does it stand for?” you ask. “Holding a ruler against their will? Sham marriages? Fake governments?”

“It stands for goodness,” Cal says. “How many times have you felt dissatisfied with this world? How many times has an unfair ruling been laid down by the queen?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you bite out. “I won’t even be laying down the new rulings. You’re using me for power, and I’m not getting even a taste of it.”

“Or so you’ve been told,” Cal replies. “Aris doesn’t trust you. How can she, when you brought an Ancunín with you? Gods, even I was wary, and I raised you! I - I still don’t understand your attachment to him!”

You just stare at him, giving a slight shrug. “Erelin makes him suffer as much as the rest of us, Cal,” you murmur. Your voice is quiet, choked. “You don’t understand.”

He takes in a long inhale. “You have a good head on your shoulders,” he says. “I want to trust you on that. It’s not like you to be swayed by a pretty face, but… gods, I don’t know.”

“Try to trust me, then?” you ask. “I’d appreciate that, considering that no one will even be trusting me to rule. I won’t even have a say in my own kingdom.”

His brows pinch. “That’s not true. You’ll be on a council of ruling. Multiple people in power. And, no matter what Aris says, you’d have your vote on that.”

He takes another step forward, and his hands seem to scorch through your clothes, warming you from the outside in. “You could do so much good,” he says. “Give it time. Aris will soften. She’ll see who you are, just like I see you.”

“And what do you see?” you ask weakly.

He smiles. “Someone strong. Who does the right thing, when it comes down to it. Someone fit to rule.”

You look in his clear, grey eyes and wonder when exactly it was that he stopped actually seeing you.

You gently ease out of his grip, heading toward the edge of the camp, but you can feel him watching you. You can feel that damned spell of his still present on your skin. He thinks he’s doing the right thing, no doubt. It’s the complex so many have: that in order to succeed, things must be compromised, precious things sacrificed.

You’d just never thought that it would be you on the table, a lamb up for slaughter.

The next few weeks consist of the same progression of events, over and over again, played like a hellish retelling of the same story. You and Astarion are escorted around, but given no real freedom. Even the woods seem like an upgrade - at least you’d been able to choose the direction you were walking in. Such a brief taste of it, before it had been robbed from you.

You’re taken to and from meetings. You’re provided with books to keep yourself entertained. You’re provided with decent rations, clean clothes, and the occasional bath. These are the luxuries your life consists of.

You and Astarion lightly chat at night, but there’s nothing more than the occasional kiss, a brief touch of his thumb over your cheek. A shared bedroll. The circumstances of your situation are off putting enough, but it’s the soldiers and their constant, loud conversations through the night that ruin the mood for anything else.

As for the camp, there’s something unmistakably brewing in the air.

You hadn’t been able to feel it at first, but as you and Astarion spend more and more time in this place, it’s immediately clear that something is happening. You hear whispers, bits and pieces of things you can’t make out, but something is clear: there’s a restlessness to the place, like something held in chains but waiting to break free.

You may hate Erelin, but you at least admire her intelligence, her cunning. Aris, you despise through and through.

She treats you like a puppet. For the few, brief meetings you’re permitted to attend, she speaks over you, ignoring you when you chip in, not even looking you in the eye. It’s very clear that you are nothing more than your title to her, and at night, you dream of setting fire to her precious battle plans and watching the smug look on her face fall flat.

Astarion plays more bored than anything else, but you see the occasional slip of anxiety in his shoulders, the restless way he paces about. Wherever Erelin is, how will she know you’re here? Will she really use your blood to track you, like he’d told you in the carriage all that time ago?

Cal, meanwhile, has taken to following you around. It seems that he thinks, with enough time, you’ll forgive him. You don’t even look at him. If he’d ever agreed to you living like this, then he really couldn’t give a shit about you. You’re determined to mirror that feeling back to him.

Three weeks in, the camp begins its march. From what you’re hearing, Aris is joining forces with another post outside the city, but what it means for you is that you and Astarion are dragged along with the soldiers, forced by day to endure the burning sun, and given a barren tent to rest in at night.

It’s a long journey, consisting of aching feet and sweat-stained clothing and the faint brushes of relief under the shade. There must be a thousand times your eyes flit to the trees, aching to break free from this hell, but you know it’s useless. Cal puts a new tracking spell on you each morning to ensure it doesn’t expire. You shoot daggers at him through your eyes and hope he knows you hate him.

When the group finally, mercifully arrives, there’s so much chaos that you can barely think. You can’t even rest. There are so many soldiers milling around that you can’t possibly imagine how the city doesn’t realize they’re there - or maybe they do, and just don’t care.

Baldur’s Gate in of itself has no resources for war. Erelin might, and she has control over the city, but it’s not so simple. War means planning and resources and death. War means defending your actions to your people. If Calthir hasn’t attacked any major sections, then any preventative action Erelin might take will come off as dealing the first blow.

Even with the spell on you, you’re tempted to run. You’re not sure how accurate the tracking is, but in the city, you could blend in with the crowd. It’s hectic enough here to get away without anyone noticing, likely not for hours. You could hide with someone you trust. Someone who knows magic well.

But you don’t dare to risk it. If they catch you and Astarion, who knows what will happen to him. Instead, you stick by his side for the most part, wandering about long after the sun has set and the night has brought in her velvet skies. He retreats to your assigned tent once it’s dark, but you don’t follow him.

As you stroll along your new boundaries, passing by a small, inconspicuous tent, a raised voice catches your attention. Cal’s raised voice. It stops you in your tracks. You’ve seen him devastated, frustrated, determined. This is none of those. This is pure rage like you’ve never seen, bellowed anger that you’re not supposed to overhear.

“-cannot stand for this,” he’s saying. “I know you hate the boy, but this? This is not who we are!”

“This is who we must be,” comes a voice that can only be Aris. “We don’t stand a chance by ourselves. Alliances must be formed, and we cannot be stingy about our choices. Rebellions require sacrifices, Cal! If we let every moral dilemma stop us, we’d be nowhere!”

“Morals are the entire gods damned reason we’re doing this!” Cal protests. “Or have you lost sight of why we’re truly here? What we’re fighting for?”

“We’re fighting to win,” Aris replies. “Everything else is secondary. I thought you understood that.”

There’s a long, cutting silence. Your heart pounds erratically in your chest.

“They’ll never trust you after this,” Cal says. His voice sounds thick, strangled. “I hope you know that. You’ll ruin every chance of them cooperating.”

“If that’s the price that must be paid, so be it,” Aris replies.

You hear footsteps approaching and instantly duck behind the tent, waiting for the sound to fade until you’re sure they’re both gone. Alliances, she’d said. The word itches at your mind, burying itself within your distrust. Alliances with whom? What are they planning?

As carefully as you can, you sneak into the tent they’d been in. It’s small and dark, with only the barest bit of light from a torch outside spilling inside. It takes a bit of digging to find anything behind basic battle plans and lists of stations, but when you do, your heart sinks down to your stomach. Something sick and nauseating flows under your skin.

It’s simply a letter, accepting an unspecified plan. Bring what I ask for, it says, and I will fight at your side. What’s most important, though - what’s sickeningly relevant - is not the contents, but rather, the person it’s from.

In a neat, cursive scrawl at the bottom of the page is the undeniable signature of Lord Cazador Szarr.

tags: @amica-aenigmata-naboo @sadslasher13 @peachy-possum @the-lonely-abyss @maddiedrmr @starved-kitten @catching-fire-in-the-wind @aoirohi @g0retash

#astarion x reader #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x you #mywriting

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