#i wish i knew what tags were and were not blocked so i could steer clear of it

[sondepoch]

the sheer amount...of writing....that i have posted on ao3 but not on tumblr.....oh my god 😭 😭

i hate posting anything to tumblr bc the tag system is so frustrating (especially when :) you know :) your post won’t show in the main tags despite it :)) but wow it’s like. i have not posted anything here in ages. i have full fics and series out that just never made it over here. starting tomorrow i’m gonna start posting at least one thing a day so i can begin the transfer like i am so sorry to everyone following me but wow posting on tumblr is so much harder 😭 😭

[pretzel-box]

Good Morning Sunshine Prologue [Leon x Neighbour!reader series]

Summary: After your home got destroyed by a fire, you seek a sanctuary in Claire's apartment. The catch? Your neighbour is the opposite of a sunshine, but luckily, there's an unknown number brightening up your days!

Tags: Female Reader! | Stangers to Lovers | Slowburn | Neighbour AU x Wrong Number AU | Strong language, fluff, mention of trauma late on. Tags will get updated.

Bright flames roared, hungrily consuming the wooden elements and everything they could reach. The acrid scent of smoke filled the hallway, and crackling sounds echoed through the chaos.

Your eyes teared up as the smoke reached them and you forcefully pressed your dusty jacket to your face, covering your mouth and nose. All your senses were overloaded and adrenaline kicked in. You couldn't die here. With quick steps you hurried through the smoke-filled rooms, desperately looking for a free exit that wasn't blocked by the highly destructive flames.

The faint reflection of glass caught your attention from the side and you hurried towards the soot covered window. In a matter of seconds you dropped the jacket, long forgotten now, to cling onto the window to push it up, praying to whoever was watching over you for a miracle.

With enough strength, you managed to push it up, cracking the glass from the force. All you can focus on is the heat of the flames in your back and the darkness that stretches before you. You can either get eaten alive by the fire or jump from a high floor. All adrenaline pushes you forward and you finally take the step forward to jump…

…forward but the seatbelt quickly held your sweat-covered body back into the uncomfortable car seat. The stare that Claire gave you from the side didn't stay unnoticed and you quickly caught your breath, pretending you just didn't have a hyper-realistic nightmare from the events that happened a month ago.

“Same dream?” The woman chirps up and holds the steering wheel in a tight grip while muttering something about idiots being on the road without having the ability to drive a car right. Complaining about other drivers was a natural thing when you were a passenger in Claire's car. You wish you could just give a comment about her small rant instead of answering the question but you knew: Claire Redfield will ask till you answer her question. And the patience that the woman had is longer than any search history you own on your phone, and this was supposed to mean something.

“More like a nightmare.” You mumble and grab the seatbelt, trying to get some of the pressure of your chest so you can breathe properly. “Same as always, no worries.” Those words were far away from calming Claire's worries. She gave you another unhappy look and her eyebrows furrowed.

You knew Claire from highschool and you two became friends over a coincidence and you might call it the best one of your whole life because this woman is not only a true angel but also your very own independent girl friend. You had the best and the worst moments of your life with her and your bond was special.

“You know what, maybe you need a new perspective. A motivation in life, a very good one night st-” “Definitely not, Claire. I don't need to get laid.” You replied in a wheezy voice, pushing some strands of hair out of your flustered face. The car stopped in front of a red traffic light and Claire took the moment to stare at you in complete silence, taking in your features and reading your mood. Her eyes looked deeply into yours and you could swear that the woman tried to peek into your soul. You gasps playfully. Claire once told you, people who have eye contact with you for more than 6 seconds either wanna kill you or sleep with you. The memory makes you chuckle and you relax into your seat once more. “Claire Redfield, do you wanna hook up with me?”

The question caught the brunette off guard and she choked on her own salvia, coughing heavily before laughing loudly. “Always.” The way she laughs so carefree was infectious and in a matter of seconds you two were laughing and not even noticing the green light that the traffic light gave you. Another car behind you started to honk, which surprised Claire and made her speed up. “God people nowadays are always in a hurry.” You don't pay attention to her words anymore, since the apartment complex came into view. Claire lets you stay in her apartment for a while till you can afford your own place, you tried to decline but she insisted.

It took only a few more minutes till you stood in front of the building, taking in the not so charming view. It definitely needs a renovation or at least some better paint on those outside walls. You could swear this place looks like a historical pile of wobbly stones and people just label it as ‘home’. Claire told you the rent is cheap and seeing the building in person explains the reason for it pretty well. Claire was busy taking out the small suitcase of the car trunk, putting it next to you before following your gaze. “Home sweet home, dear friend.”

It took a while to get all your stuff up the stairs to the small flat that is owned by claire. Apparently, the elevator was broken for a while now, and there is no way that someone will actually repair the old trashy box. Not worth the money or the effort, at least that's what most of the other tenants mumbled in the hallways. And you slightly curse them for it, then obviously it was a painful struggle to get everything up, especially the heavy boxes. Your bones will definitely thank you in the night by giving you the pleasure of a sore back. Nothing is better than the delightful first back issue after freshly moving into a new home. Especially after your old one burned down, right?

You giggle about your own depressing thoughts, depression and Claire are the only friends that you need right now after all the catastrophes that entered your life, and maybe vodka. The four of you could throw the pitty party of the year with the cheapest confetti.

Claire was the one that ripped you out of your thoughts, her hand squeezing your shoulder softly to get your attention.

"Um so, there's something I have to confess..." She laughs nervously while rubbing the back of her head with a free hand. Typical Claire movement.

"You sold me to the mafia." It was a joke that came out of your mouth, laced with sarcasm and you act shocked by putting your hand on your chest and gasping loudly. "And I thought we had a special connection. I even lend you my lipstick in the car!" But the other woman quickly shook her head with another nervous chuckle.

"Actually.. It's a really messed up situation and I need you to help me, my adorable little guardian angel. I beg you on my knees." In an instant she was on the ground, seeming desperate and even clapping her hands together over her head. A sigh escaped your lips.

"Your prayers have been answered, tell me foolish woman, what crime have you commited in those noble times?" Hearing your words was enough for Claire to get back on her feet. Her hands clutching yours tightly.

"Okay so time to spill the tea. I gave your number to a guy who's been asking me for a date since ages to make him shut up...When he's texting you pretend its me and dump him for me!"

It took more than just a full minute to grasp the concept of the situation and the more you thought about it, the more question marks appeared over your head. But despite the weird context and the fact that she gave your number out to a stranger, you couldn't deny her. She's literally letting you live in her flat for free after all. You owe her one and it's time to pay back the kindness.

After you accepted to help her, she went out to buy some takeout for dinner as a thank you. This left you all alone on the couch, watching the world's worst cooking show. Basically a high-quality documentary about your awful kitchen adventures but with paid actors.

Suddenly your phone lights up, showing an unknown number.

???: Listen I apologize for earlier. It was wrong of me to pressure you like that but I really wanna close the case between us.

You: Sorry, I bet you're super sweet, a great guy. And you surely have a great humor but I don't wanna go out with you, sorry man.

???: What?? How are you coming up with such nonsense suddenly?

You: Don't pretent and just accept it, we won't get together.

???: Listen Ada, I'm trying to apologize and not to ask you out for dinner.

You: Ada?? Gosh you can't even remember the name of the girl you wanna take our for a date?!

You: It's C l a i r e. Not Ada. You're such a red flag, dude.

This text conversation surely hit your nerve, how can someone be such low scum? Not only asking for a date but hooking up with multiple woman? Is this some kind of playboy who likes to see people like her as objects?! Your fingers angrily pressed the keys on the keyboard of your phone.

???: You're not Ada??

???: Oh god! I'm terribly sorry I got the wrong number!...

You: Hooking up with so many woman that you get the names mixed up, hm? Your mother must be very proud of you.

???: What? I'm hooking up with no one, especially not with a random phone number.

???: Listen, I'm sorry ok? No need to get hostile now.

???: The names Leon by the way and you are claire right? I'm really sorry for the misunderstanding.

You angrily slap the phone onto the poor couch cushion and put your hands on your face, groaning in annoyance. You just dumped someone named Leon, without even knowing him.

[wormstacheangel]

Day 2 of @spnprideweek and part 2 of sobrenatural fic

Dean ended up coming home a little sooner than he should have, but he didn’t want to lose the shower to Sam. He didn’t want to be sweaty and cochino for his not date with Cas.

Maybe he should have cooled it with the cumbia, making it too obvious that Dean was in a good mood because as soon as he was heading out the door—smelling great, he may add—su Tio called him over to the kitchen.

“¡Oye! ¿A dónde vas tan cambiado?” Tio Bobby was by the stove, smashing the beans for dinner, as he raised his eyebrows at Dean. Sam was standing by the sink peeling tomatillos as he cranes his neck to look over at Dean.

“Dude, what did you do? Break the damn cologne bottle?”

“Es mucho?” Dean lifted his arm to smell himself. “It’s fine!”

“¿Me vas a contestar?” Bobby threw in some whole chiles into the beans and let them simmer away. “¿Quieres que te hable en inglés? Where are you going, niño feo?”

“Estas siego, viejo!” Dean walked over to the small mirror that hung on the wall. You can barely see yourself in it because of the Jesus painting on it, but it still worked. “I’m just going out with some friends.”

“Mmm.” Bobby hummed in reply, going back to turn off the beans once they looked how he wanted it. “Llévate a tu hermano.”

“Tio!” Dean turns around, wide-eyed and heart racing. “I can’t take Sam!”

“I’ll go get my coat!” Sam rinsed off his sticky hands and started to walk out of the kitchen, but Dean grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in close. Pinning him down against his chest, which was difficult considering the kid is a damn giant.

“You aren’t coming with,” Dean mutters to him before begging Bobby again. “Tio, I’ll take Sammy with me tomorrow! Nomas hoy no.”

“¿Y porque no?”

Dean looks between curious eyes, not knowing how to explain himself. He can’t say he’s going out with a friend cause then there would be no reason why Sam couldn’t tag along. But he didn’t want to come out to his Tio and brother now! Fuck that shit; he’ll just lie.

[continue reading under the tab or on ao3]

“I’m going to meet up with Cassie.” Technically true.

Bobby’s eyes widened, and Sam’s grin grew while he wiggled himself free from Dean’s grip. They both liked Cassie and were mad at Dean for breaking things up between them. However, it wasn’t tough when Cassie rarely gave him any attention, always busy with work and school. She had to know Dean was holding her back, so he broke it off. She was mad at him for a while but ultimately thanked him for doing something she didn’t have the courage to do. Rumors still spread, though, because of course, they do, about Dean cheating, but he didn’t care much about those.

Su Tio, though, cared a lot. Dean has to constantly remind him that Dean didn’t cheat on her, and he just broke it off cause Cassie was too smart for him.

Cas is probably too smart for him too.

“Okay, pues, have fun! Bring her home to say hi.” Bobby practically pushed him out the door with Sam happily towering behind him with the same annoying grin.

Dean wondered how disappointed they would be if they found out he was going out with a guy instead.

Dean drove to Cas’s house, waiting outside a few minutes before seven. He wasn’t sure what he should do. Does he honk the horn, or is that too rude? Should he park and get out of the car to knock? That seemed too much like a date thing. And he still wasn’t sure if this was a date or two not-strangers hanging out.

He stayed in the middle of the street, unsure of what to do until finally, the front door opened, and Cas stepped out with a jacked hanging on his arm. He stood outside and squinted at the car before tilting his body down to check if that was Dean.

Dean’s panic from before melted away while he nervously waved at Cas. He saw Cas’s eyes widen with a slow-growing grin before he practically ran over to Dean.

As soon as Cas opened the door, Dean felt so sure that there was nothing more right than having Cas sitting in his passenger side.

“You ready to go, Angelito?” Dean looked Cas over; he’s dressed in dark jeans and a grey long sleeve. He has never seen Cas in anything but that rumpled old suit. He never minded the suit, but now he wished he could burn it because all that suit did was hide Cas’s muscled body. Dean couldn’t stop the whistle that escaped his lips as he said, “Mira! You look good, Cas.”

The compliment was shocking to them both, for Dean especially. He awkwardly cleared his throat while trying to think of an excuse. Maybe even use the whole English as a second language excuse, but Cas quietly responded with a, “Thanks, Dean. You look pretty good yourself.”

And maybe those words broke him. He knew he was attractive but having Cas say that made his head spin.

“Your car is beautiful, by the way. I wasn’t sure if that was you in here.”

“Did you expect me to come in that bike?” Dean jokes before slowly driving away from the house, Los Angeles Azules playing softly on the radio did not make things any less awkward.

“I don’t know what I expected. I’m just glad you came, Dean.”

Dean stopped at the end of the block and turned towards the guy sitting beside him. Cas was already looking at him with puppy dog eyes and a beautiful, hopeful smile. His breath catches in his throat as his mind gets overwhelmed with wanting to reach out and touch Cas. Just to make sure the beautiful boy in his passenger seat was real and make sure que su corazon isn’t just playing games with him.

Instead, he tightened his hold on the steering wheel, fingers burning in protest, as he melts into Cas’s smile. Wanting to relax and just be with him for tonight, not caring que alguien lo va mirar. Enjoy this non-date that looks like it has the chance to become an actual one.

But is that what Dean actually wanted?

“Dean,” Cas reached over to gently touch his arm as if knowing that Dean’s mind had wandered off. He looked hesitant, as if not sure if he was allowed to. “Do you want to go eat? We can if you want.”

Dean looked down at the hand that was burning him through his clothes, knowing damn well that Cas was giving him the chance to make this into something more. Algo que se sentía que iba a ser cósmico en su vida. Y Dean quería eso en su vida.

“Yeah,” Dean answered both questions. His hand loosened on the wheel before he reached over to take Cas’s hand in his. Hearing Cas’s breath catch in a gasp, but he didn’t look up at him; instead, Dean twined their fingers together before letting them sit in the seat between them. Dean focused back on the road before turning left to his side of town. “I got the perfect place. Te va gustar! You’re not like vegan or anything, right?”

“No.” Dean turned to catch Cas looking at him still and knew they were both feeling the same excited electricity that clouded the car just by the giddiness in his voice. “Where are you taking me on our, oh um…Oh! primero! Primero date, Dean?”

Ahi esta! La confirmación que necesitaba. This is an actual date! Pero, las palabras no le dieron pánico. No. Instead, Dean squeezed Cas’s hand as he laughed, feeling like he would just fly away if he didn’t hold on.

“You passed high school Spanish, Cas?”

“I did, but google translate did most of the work.”

When Dean parked outside the familiar food truck, he squeezed Cas’s hand once before they got out. They walked together, bumping shoulders while their hands stayed buried in their pockets. Cas didn’t question their lack of touch; instead, he smiled up at Dean as he listened to him rave about his friend Victor’s food.

“Not as good as mine, but it’s good,” Dean adds as they make it to the front of the window, where Victor can hear him.

“Cabron!” Victor said with no fire in his tone but a growing grin across his face. He held his hand out for Dean to take for a handshake. “Nice to see you, primo. Where’s Sam?”

“Lo deje en la casa!” When Dean took a step back, he put his arm around Cas’s shoulder to squeeze him close. “Pero, I brought a new customer.”

“Hi.” Cas looked a little shaken up, and Dean just wanted to lean closer to leave a kiss on his cheek, but he restrained. No necesita mas chisme circling around about him. “I’m Cas.”

“Victor.” Victor raised an eyebrow at him but reached over to shake Cas’s hand in response. “What can I get you and the pendejo around you?”

“Oh. Dean isn’t-” Cas frowned over at Dean, but Dean just shook his head, letting him know that it was okay. Cas squinted at him before he gave a small smile, not understanding but accepting. “You order for me?”

“Sure, Angelito. Anything you don’t like?”

“As long as it’s not so spicy, I don’t mind anything.”

Cas stayed stiff under Dean’s arm as they ordered and waited for their food. Eventually, Dean couldn’t help himself; the street light and the neon sign were the only things keeping this place lit, but it was still pretty dark, so he turned his face to press his nose against Cas’s temple.

“¿Qué pasa, Angelito? What’s wrong?”

“Dean.” Cas sounded shocked as he started to move back, but Dean held him a little tighter. “Someone is gonna see you.”

“Que miran. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Cas sighed but relaxed back into Dean. “I just didn’t like him calling you that. You aren’t stupid, Dean.” Dean chuckled, and Cas turned to look at him, glaring. “I don’t see how this is funny.”

“Ay, mi Angelito, he didn’t say it in a mean way. It’s just the way we talk to each other. He’s my friend.”

Cas blinked at him a few times before he fell back against Dean, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well, I don’t like it.”

“Trust me, Cas, it’s fine. Quedate conmigo long enough, and you’ll be calling me the same thing.”

Cas didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Dean wondered if he said the wrong thing again, but then Cas clicked his tongue before turning to Dean. “I don’t know what…um, that word you said means. Que..que-?”

“Quedate?” Cas nodded, looking back at Dean, waiting for him to explain. It brought warmth to Dean’s chest, knowing he’ll have to repeat it in English when before it came out as a joke. He swallowed hard as he looked back at those baby blues. The words barely came out in a quiet whisper, “Quedate. Stay. Conmigo. With me. I said, stay with me.”

“Oh.” Cas looked down at Dean’s lips as he talked. “I can-I can do that.”

Dean hummed a response as his eyes traveled down to Cas’s tongue poking out to lick at his lips. His heart was hammering in his chest until it came to a stop when he heard, “Dean! Oye, cabron! I ain’t calling your name again!”

They pulled apart, and Dean jogged over alone to grab their bag of food. Dean decided to get a few of his favorites and drinks.

“Victor,” Dean called his friend over again. “No le digas a nadie que estaba aquí. Okay? Or I’m gonna steal all your customers otra vez.”

Victor’s eyes traveled from Dean to Cas, who was waiting where Dean left him looking angelic under the streetlamp, before falling back to Dean. He wondered what could be going through Victor’s mind right that moment, but then he heard his friend let out a heavy sigh.

“Whatever you say, primo.”

“Thanks. Call me tomorrow, and I’ll work for you this weekend!” Dean starts walking backward, back to Cas.

“Shit! Really? ¡No juegues conmigo, Dean!”

“Llámame mañana!”

Dean makes it back to Cas, who automatically reaches for the drinks to help, and motions for him to walk back to the car.

“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.”

Dean drove them somewhere nicer, more private, but still a parking lot.

As soon as Dean parks the car, he opens his door, “Come on; we can sit on the hood. You might wanna put that jacket on.”

Cas looks excited when he opens the car door and walks out into the parking lot that faces the beach. “Dean! Won’t we get a ticket?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just bring the drinks.”

They sat on the hood of the impala, eating and talking, as the sounds of the waves crashing to the shore mixed with la musica norteña coming from inside the car. Dean soon finds out that Cas doesn’t know how to dance, so he puts on one of his favorite mixtapes, and cumbia plays loudly through the speaker.

They danced in front of the headlights, if you can call it dancing. They always ended up bursting into fits of laughter as they fell into each other because Cas did have two left feet. Eventually, Dean just took Cas from around the waist, and they just spun around in circles.

Feeling Cas wrap his arms around Dean’s neck to hold him as their grins were so close together made Dean’s heart leap. Eventually, Cas’s forehead fell against Dean’s, and the dancing slowed to a nice sway even though the beat was only getting quicker.

“Cas?” He answered Dean with a soft hum. “Me estas gustando mas cada segundo.”

“I don’t know-”

“I like you.” Dean’s eyes closed as he leaned in to brush their noses together. “Mi Angelito.”

Dean never thought he would be here in this situation with a guy, but he has never wanted anything more in his life. Feeling strong hands run through his hair as a strong and firm body pressed against him. He loved the intoxicating smell of Cas’s woodsy shampoo that he would have never smelled on a girl. The stubble of beard rubbed against his chin as Cas turned his head until finally, fucking finally, he had those pink lips on his.

He should be scared. Esto no es algo que debería hacer con El pinche Sonidito playing in the background. He shouldn’t have one hand behind Cas’s neck to deepen the kiss, and his toes shouldn’t curl up when he feels Cas’s heavy sigh inside his mouth. He shouldn’t become so quickly addicted to Cas’s hands reaching under Dean’s shirt to press firmly at his back, feeling the familiar slight burn become a damn forest fire in him.

Esto no es algo que debería querer. Cas no es alguien que debería querer pero aqui esta. Queriendo a nadie más pero a Cas. Cas. Cas.

Cas pulled away just enough only to have their noses touching, their breaths still mixing, as he whispered. “I like you too, Dean.”

And yeah. That was it. That was all it took.

Las cadenas del maldito miedo that held him back from even thinking of wanting Cas this way, se rompieron. Dean ya pertenece completamente a Cas.

Cas grinned as he looked back at Dean, his hand reaching to cradle his face gently. His thumb was caressing Dean’s freckles on his cheek before he happily announced. “¡Me gustas mucho!”

Dean laughed, his arms reaching down to wrap around Cas’s waist and spin him around. Both of them laughing as they continued dancing and kissing until it was late enough that they had to go home.

[1000roughdrafts]

The (almost) Perfect Crime: Chapter Three

Warnings: language, alcoholism, violence (kind of) and threats of violence

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: This one is Dean’s POV, and as a reminder, this is an AU where Dean and Sam are not brothers, not related and don’t even really know each other that well. This was supposed to come out earlier today but I had a weird day and didn't schedule it I'm sorry

Masterlist

Chapter Two

Detective Dean Campbell parked his personal vehicle on the street a block down from the Golden Egg, just barely concealed behind a deteriorating fence. He glanced at his watch to note the time his subject entered the bar, and slouched back in the seat. He poured the remainder of his coffee into his mouth, scrunching his face as the undissolved sugar grates its way down his throat among the now cold brew. Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch again, and then at the street as people came and went.

God, you stick out like a sore thumb, Dean, he thinks, sinking into the seat a little more. Figuring he had a little time before that scum of a man came back out anyway, he could use the distraction of flipping through the file he kept locked away until he was off the company dime.

The other detectives were sure he was off his rocker just for mentioning a distaste for Portland’s favorite lawyer, Sam Winchester. But those same assholes were on board when his hunch proved true about the judge that was accepting bribes. It wasn’t as high profile as a case like Sam’s would be, but damn, it really showed Dean that he just can’t trust anyone.

He’d been given an ultimatum by the director; he could either stand down, or step down. Except Dean’s never been one to let someone stand in the way of what’s right, no matter who they are or what power they hold. His investigation was just going to have to stay a secret until he’d gathered enough evidence to sway the DA into pursuing a case.

“Fuck,” he growled, slamming a hand on the steering wheel. His eyes were going cross-eyed combing through the same papers over and over as they looked for something, anything that would just jump out and help him solve this. He needed a break, badly, but anytime he took his eyes off the pictures and documents he could still see them like they were imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

A knock at the window startled him into dropping the papers into his lap. Looking through the window was Sam with a smug smile.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Dean said, forcing all of his strength into opening the door to slam it against Sam.

Lazily holding his hands in the air, Sam laughed. “Easy officer,” he said. Pointing at the Impala with a tilted head, he added, “you tailing me now, Campbell?” With a cocked head.

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped out, “the world doesn’t revolve around you, Winchester. I thought I’d stop by for a drink,” he said with a poised smile.

“Really?” Sam scoffed, “kind of looks like you’ve been following me,” he said. Making a pouting face, he said, “you’re a cop, Dean-o, don’t embarrass yourself like this.”

“Detective,” he clarified, “and I’m off duty… as I said, getting a drink.”

Sam nodded his head with the words, “which makes what you’re doing a crime, detective,” he chuckled, “you realize that right?” He looked around at the now nearly vacant street, “out in the open and all.” His laugh deepened as he turned to walk away, but after a few steps, he turned to face Dean. “You know, I could teach you a thing or two about staying hidden,” he smirked, “off the record, I swear,” he said, palms held up with a smug grin.

It took nearly everything in Dean not to hit him right then. He clenched his teeth and spoke through them, “over my dead body, Winchester.”

Sam tilted his head and tsked, “now, careful what you wish for, Dean-o,” he said, turning again to walk away.

“Your girlfriend know what you’re really up to when you’re ‘working’?” Dean called out.

Whirling around, Sam glanced at the bar and then back at Dean through squinted eyes before marching towards him.

“That wouldn’t be a threat, now, would it?” He said through his teeth while jabbing a finger into Dean’s chest.

Dean held his head high, and shrugged. “I know that I would never hurt her,” he said, then sucked air in through his teeth, “but could the same be said for you?” He let the air out and shook his head, “well, I’m sure we’ll all just be a lot happier when you’re behind bars,” he said, and in a harsher tone, added, “where you belong.”

Sam laughed, mocking Dean, “you can’t even get one detective on your side, let alone the DA, but yeah, go ahead and try your luck. See what happens.”

Dean rolled his eyes and let Sam walk away. He was nearly shaking with anger from just the thought of yet another day where Sam walks free, but if he wanted to get anywhere in his investigation, he’d need to get some sleep and grub.

—

The last thing Dean expected was to see Y/N sitting at a table on the balcony of the Golden Egg. He sat in a booth near the doors to eat and could see her through the glass with a woman he didn’t recognize. Y/N’s hair was tied up and for a lot of the conversation, which he wasn’t able to hear, she had her eyebrows raised and she sat very close to the table. Her drink was almost untouched and her leg was bouncing rapidly.

It felt weird for him to be so close to her, especially after the interaction he’d just had with her boyfriend. He ate his burger quickly as he snuck glances at her. If it weren’t for her long sleeves, and pants he’d have scanned her skin for bruises or marks.

Pulling cash from his wallet, he chugged the drink as he stood up. He threw the cash onto the table as he set the glass down and looked at Y/N one last time before turning to leave.

As he walked out, he wondered what side Sam showed her. It was hard to imagine that Sam treated her well. As he’d been tracking him for a while, he was well aware that they’d been together for the better part of three years. Hell, they even live together, and he hoped for Y/N’s sake that Sam was a good actor, because he knew that Y/N didn’t deserve to be with a guy like him. Hell, no one deserved that.

He thought about her the entire way home. The idea that she was so close to danger while being none the wiser really worked his nerves. He decided at that moment that nothing would get in the way of him building a case against Sam.

Pulling the Impala into the parking lot of his apartment complex, Dean wondered if sleep would escape him again like it had been for months. He jogged to his apartment and went straight for the beer in his fridge. His shoes came off only second to popping the top off and taking a sip of his sleep aid. It had become part of his routine; work on the clock for ten hours, then off the clock for anywhere from five to seven hours, drink a few or maybe several beers, and sleep (or try to sleep) for four hours, and that was if he was lucky.

PermaTags<3 @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @sigrunsavestheday @flamencodiva

That night, luck wasn’t on his side as he would get about two and a half hours, spending most of it tossing and turning.

Chapter Four

Dean <3 @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl

Sam <3 @fangirlxwritesx67 @immafangirlmess

The Almost Perfect Crime <3 @princessmisery666 @momowinchester @sizekinkshawty @deandreamernp

*Names in bold have not been tagging for a while, if you see your url please let me know if I need to fix it :D*

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[kojinnie]

Something About Pain | Reiner Braun

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Reader (she/her pronoun)

Summary: You ran away from home and your boyfriend Reiner Braun is desperate to bring you home. When the two of you meet, you share a conversation about how pain inflicts the two of you differently.

Tags & Warning: Angst, (eventual) fluff, (mild) hurt/comfort, slow burn, major miscommunication problem, past trauma, abandonment issue, mention of anxiety, Reiner is a grumpy, hurt individual yet delicate inside | SFW

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: Based on the request by @okubean for Twisted Match-Up! I hope you like it, boo! (More A/N at the end of the fic)

.::My Masterlist::.

Twisted Match-Up (x Reader): Zeke | Hange | Jean 

There was a vivid look of worry on the face of Reiner Braun as he drove through the empty neighborhood streets. His right hand on the steering wheel, the other one tapping anxiously on the phone, dialing the same number over and over again to no avail.

All of his calls had gone straight to your mailbox, and his text messages were no longer delivered. Reiner came to realize that you've blocked him. "Idiot," he muttered to himself, cursing this whole modern affinity to accommodate people running from their problems easier. Reiner thought the feature was the stupidest thing ever created by humankind, he was pissed, but more annoyed. He realized how tired he was, and if he could, he'd rather be in bed right now. Not roaming your friend's neighborhood at ungodly hour.

"Where... the fuck... are you..." he was pissed, evident from the grunt as he tried one final desperate attempt to call you. It went straight to your mailbox. Your cheery voice didn't make him feel any better, if any, Reiner wished he could tell the mailbox-you to shut the hell up.

Reiner finally hit the brake, sighing annoyed. His black SUV stopped underneath the streetlamp, at a random neighborhood he could only vaguely remember. He had been here before, when he picked you up from your bestfriend's house after one of your "night out" with your friends from college, but he could barely remember which one of these identical suburban houses did she live.

He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, racking his brain trying to remember the house number. Is this even the correct cul-de-sac? There are tens others. Who the fuck came up with the concept of suburban housing? Strips and strips of uniformed houses. And even worse, who the fuck thought that it was such a great idea to live in one? Like some Stepford Wives nightmare. Reiner couldn't believe some people would save up money for all their lives to pay off their mortgage to live in complete conformity, like a communist utopia with capitalist credit system. Were these people right in the head or had their brains fucked over by the boring 9 to 5 jobs they've had for decades?

That's beside the point. Reiner sighed. He ranted a lot when frustrated.

He knew you'd be there, in one of these houses, curled up crying in your bestfriend's bed, perhaps pouring your heart out on how much of a bad boyfriend Reiner was. He knew because you've passed the micro-aggression millionth times, muttering under your breath, saying that you'd be fine if Reiner kicks you out because your bestfriend would take you. What kind of fuckery was all that? Why would he ever kick you out? Reiner thought. He was clueless. Why were you so adamant that he would leave you eventually? Reiner could feel his annoyance grew while reminiscing your antics. He began to think, maybe he had never understood you to begin with.

But Reiner was wrong, because he was right about a lot of things about you. You were exactly in your bestfriend's house, curled up in her bed, ranting how hard it was being with Reiner. Although the tears had dried since hours ago. You were in your PJs and drinking the hot coco your friend had made you, comfortable in the bliss of obliviousness upon the fact that your boyfriend of one year was now driving aimlessly trying to locate your position. You were adamant that he was going to leave you anyway, you thought he wouldn't exert an ounce of energy trying to plea you home.

It was 4 AM in the morning and you hadn't come home. The trace of you had gone completely from Reiner's apartment since early morning. Reiner knew that this was bound to happen, had he done anything differently - would you stay? He thought of you and the state that the two of you had been tangled in. All the unresolved tension, or the persistent insinuations coming from you that you always shrugged off in the end, saying "Nothing." as if it did not matter, each time Reiner shot them with, "What did you say?"

You sipped your hot coco and let a troubled whimper as you told your bestfriend what was happening. It's the culmination of small things, your feeling of inadequacy and the anxiety of waking up every morning, being convinced that each day would be the day that Reiner finally leaves you. Every day you’d be mentally preparing yourself for the ultimate fate until Reiner returns home with his big, warm hug until your anxiety caves in. And that the anxiety would appear again in the next morning.

The idea of him leaving became incessant and you could never bug it off. You wondered why, maybe because you believed that you were inherently flawed. Maybe it's the way Reiner made that small "Tsk," when he came home to see the garbage piled up, "Babe, didn't I tell you to put out the garbage?"; or the deep, annoyed and condescending sighs he made when he missed his favorite show because you forgot to pay the cable bills while he was out at the office.

Maybe it's the way you couldn't match his sharp memory and reliability with you constantly forgetting things and your seeming inattentiveness despite the abundant reminders, notes and alarms you've made to keep yourself alerted. At times, your mind just wandered, and you needed him to rope you back in, but he never got the gist.

So, you were adamant that you had grown to be nothing but inconvenience for him, hence when he spent the night over at his office due to what he called "Shit load of work" over the phone, you were certain he wouldn't come back at all. You knew that the pain of being abandoned would haunt you to myriad of miseries, so you'd rather leave first. You knew it would be the end you both needed, because you knew Reiner did not care about you enough to tolerate your shit any longer. He was always quiet, there was hardly ever any expression on his face, God knows what he was thinking underneath. Each of your "Reiner, I'm sorry." would only be met by a singular hum or a quick, "It's okay." that left you wondering, did he ever mean it at all?

So that morning you left. While he was still at the office, because you knew there was no feelings strong enough for Reiner to keep him from leaving you eventually. You left first.

Your bestfriend nodded in reassurance, "You gotta do what you gotta do." she said pulling you into a warmly hug, but your attention was suddenly caught by the pile of plastics and packages from your take-outs at the corner of your friend's room. It just bothered your mind, and you got up to take it out. A small token of atonement to what you wish you had done to Reiner.

Your bestfriend immediately scrambled and took the garbage away from you. Insisting for you to stay in bed and let her take care of it. You nodded and retreated to the pillow fortress. You felt bad for her because the temperature was dropping, and there was no necessity to take the garbage out right now, but your impulse was often hard to subside, and your friend had grown to acknowledge and take sympathy over that. Unlike Reiner, you thought.

Maybe it's because Reiner never shown anyone openly about what he felt, but what you did not know, sometimes he wish he had. Sometimes he wished he'd opened up about how hard it is for him to breathe when unfortunate things occur that he did not have the answer to. Sometime he wished he could share his fear, worry, anger and disappointment, but he was always thought that a man got to suck it up, and perseverance was the only way he knew how to survive.

Sometimes he wished he had told somebody that the constant worrying about his loved ones consumed him too, to the point it became hard for him to let his guard down even when things are okay. He was always on alert, and sometimes it got exhausting too for him. He wished he had told all that, so in times like these he did not have to assume the heartbreak alone while trying to find the solution to it. Sometimes he wished people knew that he cared too, he loved too, he knew too when someone he loved was struggling, but he never learned how to show it. Reiner knew your mind often raced hundreds of miles per hour, Reiner knew your state of agitation, but he never had anyone to teach him how affection should look like, other than be of service, which he tried his best at being. It was no wonder that Reiner was left clueless when you chose to leave without warning.

He was pissed because he knew how daft he was, yet none of it was ever intentional. He cursed himself for not knowing what went wrong, for not being more observant, for not being open with his feelings, for not telling you how much he had grown to love you and how much his apartment immediately grew cold at your absence. But mostly, at this moment, he cursed himself because he wasn't attentive enough to know you friend's house number.

The air was crisp when your bestfriend stepped out of her porch. She made quick steps to the garbage can when she saw bright headlights coming in from the end of the street. She grunted, wondering what was her neighbor doing, cruising around with dramatically low speed. It seemed odd.

She put her fingers above her eyes, trying to recognize the plate number or the driver, but the black SUV lights were dispersing her sight.

She closed the garbage can and tried to immediately return inside but the car cruised closer and pulled over in front of her. The window rolled open.

"Hey," There was an immediate look of surprise from the person that Reiner barely recognized. But he was sure enough that it was her, judging from her body language; all tensed and alerted, "This is Reiner."

For a moment, there was an awkward silence between Reiner and your bestfriend. She was considering carefully on what to say next.

"Uhm yeah, I know." Your bestfriend finally spoke, her voice creaked, caught by surprise. "What do you want?"

Reiner spoke your name, "I want to meet my girlfriend." Reiner could hear the desperation in his own voice, but your friend jeered in response.

"My girlfriend." she passingly mocked the way Reiner spoke, she came to dislike what she thought was possessiveness in Reiner's nature of speaking, "She's not available. I suggest you to scram. Before my neighbors complain."

Reiner furrowed his brows in dismay, couldn't seem to understand the hostility presented by your friend, "I need to talk to her."

She stood unyielding. Reiner opened the door and climbed off of the car, sighing as he walked closer, propelling your friend to keep her distance away even further. "Please, let me talk to her."

"Not a chance." She turned around and scurried back into the house. Reiner was quick to yell, to her expected dismissal. Without thinking further, Reiner got back to behind the wheel and moved his car forward on to the curb, proceeding to close off the exit way for her small city car in the driveway.

Reiner jumped off the car as your besfriend realized what he had done, "I'm not moving the car until she comes down."

She let out a restraint shrieked, "What the fuck?! I got a dentist appointment tomorrow morning!"

"Then please, tell her to come down and talk to me," Reiner said, sounding almost apologetic. He threw a glance at a lonely swing set in the small park across the street, "there."

The occurrence happening before your eyes was unexpected to say the least. You closed the small slit from your bestfriend's window fold, trying to manage your heartbeat that had become almost deafening. At the same time your bestfriend appeared from the door, face red with flustered, "I think he really wants to see you."

Thousands of thoughts made a commotion in your head. It did not make any sense. You made it easier for Reiner by walking away with clean slate, you were sure this was what he had hoped secretly.

Your friend shuffled inside and shot you a deep stare, she sighed heavily and told you that whether you liked it or not, you had to face him. Reiner looked genuinely worried, she said, twisting your guts even further.

You sat in her bed for a moment, trying to relive every waking moment with Reiner. Sure there were moments when your own thoughts chased you into a deep corner and you wished Reiner had seen it. Sometimes you wished he’d hold you tight, kiss you with reassurance and told you how meaningful you were to him. Sure, sometimes being with Reiner could feel lonely, but he had never treated you back nor was he ever intentionally mean to you. What do I want? The question hung heavy in your mind.

I want him to say that he wants me, the voice within the nook of your brain said, I want him to say that he loves me.

You nodded, finally ceasing from running away further.

             Reiner never thought that at his 20-something he would sit miserably on a random swing-set at a random neighborhood just an hour before the dusk cracked. Reiner was a big man, but even with his figure and the aid of his tailored suit and shirt, wrinkled after gruesome hours at work trying to keep his company afloat on the thin ice of his personal relationship with you – Reiner was tired, and miserable, and desperate. Even more, he was cold as the temperature continued to drop down.

He hung his head low, trying to fight the shivers. It was quiet, too quiet, only the faint sound of the wind and the creaking sound of the swing-set holding off to its dear life under Reiner’s massive weight. The man sighed, never he thought that the sight of you coming out of someone’s house in the dead of a  night would be a spectacle he looked forward to the most.

He closed his eyes, shutting himself off from any sound and thought. Thinking that maybe in the bleakness of his sense, the time would pass faster and your heart would soften.

In the nothingness Reiner could feel a sudden warmth crept from the tips of his fingers, he opened his eyes to see you standing before his eyes, towering him who was sitting like a pathetic boy on the swing. You were wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, hiding your PJs underneath. In your hands were two cups of scalding tea, you shoved one into his hand, “You came.” You stated.

Reiner let out a deep sigh of relief as he saw you safe and sound. He felt warmth travelled across his body, he did not know whether it was the tea in his hand or simply the sight of you that made him felt so. His eyes latched on to you as you sat on the swing next to him, “Hey. What are you doing?” Reiner asked.

“Running away.”

“Why?”

Reiner looked at you intently, and the guilt started to consume you. You gazed afar, softly shook your head, “Dunno.”

“I see.”

Yet another silence ensued.

“How’s work?”

Reiner sighed again; the heavy breath seemed to be the only way the two of you communicated. Just two troubled minds pouring their burden at each other, “Bertholdt abruptly resigned—fuck, it’s been a nightmare, but—” Reiner pressured his thumb over his brows, trying to ease his sharp migraine that suddenly came, “—that doesn’t matter now. Will you come home?”

He looked at you again, you were still gazing to god-knows-what, everything other than his eyes. Reiner grew antsy on his seat, the swing creaked again. Please look at me. Please look at me. The words resonated incessantly in Reiner’s head but nothing came out of his mouth. Just a stoic, to-the-point question.

Don’t you wanna know the problem, Reiner? Is that all? I said I don’t know and you didn’t even try to dig in deeper? You came all the way here and you just straight up asking me to go home with you? Your mind was nowhere better. It’s in uproar but there was only silence coming out of your mouth. But he came, he didn’t leave. Contradiction danced inside your mind like an unwanted guest.

The silence grew heavier. You saw the lights from your bestfriend’s bedroom lit off, she had got to be tired eventually. Suddenly, you felt so alone. Just the two of you in this odd morning.

“It’s hard, right?” Reiner broke the silence, he looked at you again, this time he was desperate for you to look into his eyes. Little did he know, you were refusing to do so because you could feel your fragility forming in your eyes. You swore not to cry.

“What?” Just a depthless answer you uttered.

“Growing up.” Reiner muttered. The man sounded almost contemplative in his defeat. He sighed again and shook his head, “I thought I’d be someone better by this time in my life.”

The answer surprised you. You thought he would say something like ‘Relationship is hard’ or some jargons he picked up from one of the movies he watched without you. You felt bad for undermining him just because you were upset with him. Does it really mirror your true perception of him? Maybe you really hadn’t known him that well.

You had no resolve to his statement, so you just nodded, allowing him to pour out his thoughts.

“I thought I’d be better with my job, with myself, and most importantly,” he shifted to lurch towards you on his seat, the wire strings of the swing twisted to your direction, “with the people I love. But obviously, I still… suck.”

“And here I am. 4 AM. A fucking adult on a fucking neighborhood swing-set.”

You could feel the air suctioned out of your lungs, as you felt guilt loomed bigger inside you. He came and he felt bad – what more could I ask for? But then you remembered the nights of loneliness despite having Reiner sleeping next to you. You had a bad day, but you were too prideful to come clean. You wanted him to be intuitive, but he never did. Being with Reiner, you had mastered the art of crying in silence while sharing the bed with him. It’s exhausting. Yeah, Rei, maybe you’re bad at this.

Despite that, you stayed silent.

“Will you hate me if I say I don’t know what’s wrong?” Reiner knew how daft he sounded, “God. I’m pushing my luck coming clean at you.”

You were at loss for words. You had so many things to say, but too few of a courage.

Reiner called your name. He reached over and tried to tangle one of your fingers with his. From your periphery sight, you could see him forcing a smile, “I—”

He sighed again. Reiner’s chest was filled with words and all he wanted was to vomit it out, but he never knew how to properly addressed the feelings he had—he couldn’t even describe what he felt. All he knew was one thing: he wanted you home, back in his arms, “I am a stupid man. I really don’t know what’s happening between us. You.. just.. gone. Please, just tell me what’s wrong. I’m not smart enough for all these..”

There was almost a childish plea in Reiner’s words, and you couldn’t help but to threw a faint smile. You chuckled, “What did you say? You’re—what?”

He scoffed at himself, “I am stupid.”

You finally caved in because you realized there was an undeniable genuineness in the way he spoke. And the sentiment was mutual, you felt stupid as well for you had not realized how completely, utterly, truly clueless Reiner was.

Eventually, you looked at him. His hardened face quickly turned wary to finally see how puffy your eyes were from crying earlier, you forced a smile, but it was clear you were pretending, “You make me feel so lonely sometimes.”

The words came out of your mouth like a canonball that had been stuck in your chest for too long. You felt relief, but on the other side, Reiner could feel his heart broke. A pain from a man realizing too late of the damage he had caused.

You thought of everything that had made you feel so. The way Reiner rolled over in bed away from you, drowsy and unaware, when you called him in the dead night as your anxiety kicked in; when his hand let you go as you tried to hold his hands in public; the complete non-existing mention of you in his social media; the take-outs that he mindlessly brought home when you had cooked dinner; his easiness in dropping a problem after he said sorry without checking up with you further.

It was the absent of his intuition that made you felt invisible – but you realized too late that maybe he was truly oblivious, evident as he said, “But how?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Babe,” he further tangled your fingers into his grasp. Your hand and his, they hung in the middle of the two swing seats, “I swear on my mother’s grave.”

“I’ve always thought you wanted to leave me but never got the right moment to it. The affection—I hardly ever got it from you. Not the affirming words, not the reassurance. Hell, maybe I want that public kiss and hugs that you thought was stupid, Rei. Just—”

You could feel the tears forming, choking you mercilessly, “—just to feel loved. To feel wanted. For once.”

You finally let your tears dropped. And Reiner was slapped with realities that both of you were in. He let go of your hand and stared down at the pavement, “I’m sorry. I never knew.”

“You never asked.”

“But I never knew. How am I supposed to know that I should ask when I didn’t know I should ask on the first place? I’ve always thought you wanted to be left alone when all your crazy thoughts come in—but you—”

“—you—"

Reiner groaned, obviously frustrated. He rested the blabber, “Maybe we’re just not good at this.”

Like a train, you could feel the ending coming to hit you. This is it. This is it. You thought to yourself, picturing how Reiner would finally leave you. You secretly wished Reiner wouldn’t give in, you wish he’d put up more fight, so at least you’d know that you carried a weight in his heart. But you knew this was bound to happen, so why were you so upset?

“Maybe.” You wiped your tears dry, “That’s okay, Reiner. I know that’s what I am.”

“What?”

“I’m just an embarkation point, right? Everyone will leave me eventually. That’s why I left, because I know eventually, we’ll be talking about this. So I’d better leave first.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Reiner grew even more frustrated with the way you danced around your words.

“It’s okay if you want to leave me. That’s what all people do to me.”

“You left because you think I was planning to leave you all along?” Reiner asked, sounding painfully offended as he finally got to gather what you were insinuating, “So that is the problem?”

“Yeah, so I better leave first, right? Before I get hurt again? Before you leave me like other people and—”

“Fuck other people!” Reiner raised his voice, which he immediately regretted. He ran his fingers over his hair irritated, turning it into a complete blond mess, “Are you trying to avenge your revenge for other people—those exes you’ve had—on me?”

Tears welled up again in your eyes, as you looked away from him. But he called on your name again, this time there was a deep sternness in his call that you couldn’t help but to face him. Reiner was glad that you finally gained courage to speak the truth, when he had not, “So you want reassurance, yeah? How about the times I told you how beautiful, how smart, how great you are – only for you to tell yourself the opposite immediately.”

Reiner looked directly into your eyes, “I can’t make you something you’re not. What you are is who you think you are.”

“You can never matter – if you don’t think you do.”

An expressionless, soundless tear fell onto your cheek. A heart broke to your dismay. Reiner finally said the truth and there was no way you could delude yourself into thinking that he was wrong, “Then… why don’t you just leave me, Rei? Why don’t you get rid of me a long time ago?”

“Because I’m giving you something that I never received in my entire life, ever. I’m staying for you.” There was a palpable pain in the way Reiner spoke. He landed his finger on to your heart and you could feel it pierced through your skin with heavy realization, “I’m staying. Like no one ever did in my life. Not my ex-girlfriends, not my friends, and certainly not my father. That’s what makes us different. I have more faith in you than you have in me.”

Reiner was a man with heavy heart. He had been through a lot of things in his life, learned how to fend on for himself since very young, and dreamed of the day when he could finally put his hair down with someone he cared for. And what you hadn’t realize, was how essentially similar you were to him. How both of you longed for someone to let go of your inhibitions and fear? Just two broken people finding refuge in each other’s longing for the same thing. And that’s what you failed to see. He understood you, just in a way you didn’t understand.

And that’s the thing about pain, they are inherently personal. No matter how much you have shared yourself to others.

The two of you went dead silent for a moment. In the horizon, the sun rays were starting to emerge, the morning had arrived.  Your tears cascaded painfully slow; Reiner was looking at his feet trying to sip his tea that had gone cold. His hands were trembling with both sadness and anger that were beginning to secede.

Reiner finally called your name, this time it was delicate, “I’m sorry, alright?”

You looked at him with tears in your eyes as you nodded, “Alright.”

“Will you come home, now?”

“Yes,” you muttered, “I think I will.”

The two of you got up and Reiner immediately drew you into his chest, holding you the tightest you had ever been held, reconnecting all the broken pieces scattered inside you. You buried your face into his strong chest as you sobbed once more, while he kissed the top of your head with affection more vivid than thousands of words of affirmations.

“What do we do with these hearts, Rei?” You asked as you felt your chest throbbing with pain and love.

The man loosened his embrace and smiled, “Persevere.”

A/N:

First of all thank you so much to @okubean for giving me a hellish prompt! This one really made me faced my own abandonment issue and poured it into a writing. I tried to touch about the absent-mindedness as the implication of ADHD but I’m really worried that it doesn’t really do it justice. So hereby my sincere apologies! 😭🙏

Nonetheless, I really hope that you may enjoy this piece and I’m so sorry if it comes off as boring!

I literally drafted this on the metro, and got really carried away with it!

Did I enjoy it? (Yes)

Did this turn out longer than I expected? (Yes)

Am I worried this will bore people? (Yes)

[drabbles-mc]

I Know A Place

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by Anon: can you do a Juice x female reader where she's out with Juice as part of a small errand that she needed to do, and her dad Piney insisted she needed an escort due to the shit happening with Zobelle - and they have to hide at one point and (there's already some tension going on at this point) after impressing him with how much she can run, at one point he needs to pull her flush against him, and his hand gets a feel of how ripped she is and it all comes to a head when they reach a motel

Warnings: language, unprotected sex

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I did tweak a few things from the original request, hope that’s alright! I try not to be too descriptive of body types when I do reader inserts because it’s just not as inclusive, so I left it kind of vague as I do with all of my fics that are written in this style. Also, instead of a motel it’s a safehouse. But Juice still gets some so it all evens out haha. Enjoy! xo

SOA Taglist: @mijop​ @adela-topaz-caelon​​ @masterlistforimagines​ @garbinge​​ (As always, if you want to be tagged in anything going forward just let me know!)

You couldn’t deny that you were a little annoyed when the club essentially assigned you a babysitter. You’d fought Opie and Tig on it for a hot minute, only caving when Piney spoke up. There were a lot of people that you could afford to piss off but he really wasn’t one of them. He told you that you were going to have someone with you until things calmed down again, and that was that.

“Oh sure,” Opie said with a shake of his head, “you’ll listen when he says it.”

“Yea, ‘cause you’re not my father,” you shot back at him with a roll of your eyes.

“And you’re also not as scary,” Jax piped in with a laugh.

You wanted to hold onto your frustration but you couldn’t help but to crack a smile, knowing that he was completely right. Opie might’ve been tall and stoic, but he was still your brother and you still knew too many embarrassing things about him to ever be fully intimidated by him the way that you were with your father. Opie had a softness in him that your father never had.

“Who’s gonna be babysitting me, then?” you asked as you plopped down at the bar.

“Got a preference?” Jax chuckled, “I’ll see if I can make it happen.”

You looked over at him, clearly unamused, “I’d prefer to not have anyone stuck to me like glue.”

“Well that’s out of the question,” Piney spoke up with a shake of his head. He paused, turning to Juice, “Juice.”

He looked up from his laptop, eyes bright, “Yea?”

“You’re gonna be keeping an eye on Y/N for a while. Got it?”

He nodded, always glad to be given a task. You don’t think that he’d ever said no to the guys the entire time he’d been involved with the club, even when he probably should have. You looked over at him, and as annoyed as you were that you were going to have a protective detail with you, you had to admit that there were much worse people to be stuck looking at all day while you ran errands. The two of you never got a whole lot of quality time together, but he seemed sweet enough.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” you looked over at him, trying not to take your frustration out on him, “I got some shit I gotta take care of.”

“Now,” he stammered slightly as he shut his laptop, “N-I’m ready now. I’m good to go,” he nodded.

You chuckled, “Alright,” you tossed him the keys to your car, “then let’s hit the road, Juan Carlos.”

He caught the keys, but barely. You bit back a laugh as you shook your head. He tossed his laptop to the side and made his way over to you. He led the way, opening the clubhouse door for you. You flashed him a smile as you walked out, wondering how a man like him ended up in a club like this.

Letting Juice drive was a calculated decision on your part. You felt like you’d learn more about him from the passenger seat. Plus he was nice to look at and that was difficult when you needed to have your eyes on the road to drive.

“This because of what happened to Gemma?” you asked, breaking the seal of silence in the car.

“Wh-what?” his body tensed.

“All of the women being assigned body guards,” you clarified, “Is it because of what happened with Zobelle and Gemma?”

You could see him hesitate, but that answered your question as well as anything. After a moment he nodded, “Yea. Protocol until further notice.”

You nodded slowly, “Gotcha,” you looked over at him as he parked your car, “You pissed that you’ve been demoted to babysitter?”

There was a small smirk on his face as he turned and looked over at you, “Guess I didn’t consider this a demotion.”

There was something about his tone and the look in his eyes that made your face suddenly feel warm. You smiled and shook your head, “Right,” you took a deep breath to try and get your mind right, “You ready?”

He nodded, hopping out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you. You smiled, surprised by the gesture. He held his hand out to you and you took it despite the fact that you didn’t need it. You saw the way that the muscles in his arms flexed as he helped you and you found yourself involuntarily biting your bottom lip.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yea. All good. Let’s go.”

He chuckled just loud enough so that you could hear it and you shook your head at yourself. You went from extremely annoyed with the entire situation to very into it in the matter of one car-ride and you wished that your hormones would stay out of your thought pattern. There was a reason he was assigned to make sure you stayed safe, it wasn’t exactly the best time to be gawking at him.

As you continued to check things off of your to-do list, you found that Juice really wasn’t bad company. He was sweet, and funny. You didn’t remember the last time someone made you laugh that hard while you were grocery shopping. He pushed the cart for you and you really wondered why someone who had so much gentleness in them would want to be part of an outlaw motorcycle club.

“Can we stop and grab a coffee?” you asked after you’d stacked your grocery bags in the back of the car, “My treat, since you’ve been so helpful today despite the fact that I was kinda shitty to you about it at first.”

He laughed, “Yea, coffee sounds good.”

“I know a good spot a couple blocks up. Up for a walk?”

“Sure,” he nodded, waiting for you to start leading the way.

The two of you walked together, and you chuckled as Juice provided commentary on everyone and everything that you walked past. There was something about him that made you think that he was the kind of person to never run out of stories.

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of yelling and cursing coming from farther up the block. Juice stopped in his tracks. Throwing his arm out in front of you to make you do the same. His brows furrowed as he listened intently, trying to figure out who was making all of the noise and why.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath before turning to you, “you gotta go.”

“What?”

He nodded back in the direction the two of you had just come from, “Get back to the car. Quickly. I’ll meet you there.”

“Juice what’s going—”

“Just go,” he nudged you in the right direction as the voices got closer, “please.”

You saw him reach into his kutte for his gun and that was the moment you decided that whatever the problem was, it was above your paygrade. You took off at a swift run as the voices got louder, and you could hear Juice yelling something back at them. You were nervous, but the only thing reassuring you at all was that you didn’t hear any gunshots. Whatever was happening, the chaos must’ve been somewhat controlled.

The run back to your car felt much longer than the walk away from it. You were practically gasping for breath as you fumbled around for your keys in your purse. Just as you were about to slide the key into the lock, you felt someone’s body press firmly up against yours. You started to let out a scream but they clapped their hand over your mouth.

“It’s me,” Juice sounded about as winded as you did, “Sorry, it’s me,” he let go of you, but his body was still flush up against yours, “Quick, unlock the door.”

You wanted to make a smart remark about how that’s what you had been trying to do before you got body-slammed, but your brain wasn’t working well enough for that. You were trying to turn your key in the lock while not thinking about the way his chest pressed against your back with each deep breath he took to recover from his run to you.

You were finally rewarded with the clicking sound of the door unlocking. You flung it open and scrambled over to the passenger seat, letting Juice climb in after you. He slammed the door shut and immediately turned the car on, throwing it in drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

Both of you were silent as he tore down the streets of Charming. You wanted to ask what that was all about, but you weren’t sure how much you really wanted to know.

Once his breathing started to level out, he glanced over at you, “You’re fucking fast,” he laughed.

You chuckled, leaning your head back against the seat, “Adrenaline and fearing for your life will do that,” you looked over at him, trying to search his face for some answers. Despite your better judgment, you asked, “What was all of that about?”

Juice sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to lie to you about it, “Zobelle isn’t the only person the club has pissed off lately.”

“Really racking up popularity points, huh?” you shook your head.

He laughed, “Yea. Mayans called off the truce. So it’s pretty much on-sight at this point.”

“Jesus Christ,” you ran your hands down your face, “So what now?”

He shrugged, still with a white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel, “Um. Good question. We can head back to the clubhouse, or we can find somewhere to lay low for a couple hours.”

The last thing you wanted to do right now was face your father and your brother. You looked at him, watching the way he stared intently at the road, “Where’d you have in mind?”

“Hm?”

“To lay low,” you sighed, “I don’t wanna fucking deal with Opie right now,” you let out a humorless laugh, “And if I don’t, I know you definitely don’t.”

He laughed despite the stress weighing on his brain, “That’s fair. I think I know a place.”

He didn’t elaborate further, and you didn’t ask him to. You rested back against the seat and watched the buildings and yards fly by your window as Juice drove you off to wherever he figured was a safe place to land. The longer he drove, the more relaxed he became, which in turn made you feel a little better as well. There was a tiny part of you that wanted to reach out and rest your hand on him, but you knew that was just the adrenaline talking, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

The car came to a stop in the driveway of a small house in a town that neighbored Charming. You’d never been there, and it didn’t look like anyone had been there in quite some time. You looked over to Juice, eyebrows raised as you waited for some kind of an explanation.

He looked over at you and gave a small shrug, “Club safehouse. Seemed like as good of a place as any to kill a couple hours.”

You shrugged and nodded, “Fair enough. It got a fridge? I don’t want all my groceries going to waste.”

He laughed, “Yea, it’s got a fridge. Your ice cream will be fine.”

You grabbed the bags out of the back of the car while he went and unlocked the house, checking to make sure that everything was alright. You knew the chances of anything happening to the two of you were slim to none. It wasn’t likely that they were able to tail you, Juice had driven all over god’s green earth to make sure that didn’t happen. Still, you felt a little better knowing that this was a designated place for laying low and staying out of trouble.

Setting the bags down on the counter, you started to take out everything that needed to be in the refrigerator or the freezer. It wasn’t much, but Juice was right when he called you out about the ice cream. It was the first thing you took out and tossed to be chilled.

You spun around to grab one last thing out of the bag and collided directly into Juice. Your hands landed on his chest while his grabbed onto your hips to keep you from stumbling further. You let out a nervous laugh, your face instantly getting hot. There was a small smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. Your entire body was trembling and as much as you wanted to blame it all on the chaos of the day, you knew there was a little more to it than that.

“You good?” his hands slid up your sides as he asked, pushing up the fabric of your shirt.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on maintaining feeling in your legs as you nodded, “I’m good.”

He could feel the way your body was trembling slightly underneath his fingertips, “You sure?”

Your brain couldn’t come up with a single coherent thought. You were too distracted by the heat radiating from his hands, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms. The day had already been a trip and you figured there was no way that you could really make it all that much worse. So you gave in to the impulsive, needy part of your brain that had been quietly nagging at you all day.

Before you could try to reel yourself in, your lips crashed into his. It must’ve been exactly what he had been expecting, because his arms instantly snaked tightly around your waist and kept your body flush up against his. A quiet moan slipped past your lips as your hands roughly cupped his face, keeping his lips pressed against yours.

Hit bit down on your bottom lip with a quiet moan and the thought crossed your mind that it was one of the most beautiful sounds you’d ever heard. You pushed the kutte down off of his shoulders and instantly started to lift his shirt off over his head. He let out a quiet, breathy laugh as he obliged, gripping onto yours to help you do the same.

With no hesitation he scooped you up off the floor and carried you to the bedroom. You let out a gasp as he dropped you onto the bed and instantly began undoing your shorts. You lifted your hips to make it easier for him to slide them down your legs. He smiled as he tossed them aside, along with your underwear. You sat upright and your hands instantly went to work on his belt. You looked up at him for a moment and when you saw the way he was smiling down at you, it became almost impossible to focus on the task at hand.

Despite the distraction, you were rewarded with the sound of his jeans falling to the floor in a denim pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them and back you onto the bed, hands roaming over your body the entire time.

His lips found yours and within moments you felt his tongue running along your bottom lip. He situated himself between your legs as he kissed you, one hand sliding down your stomach and landing between your legs. His fingers traced lightly over your folds and he moaned into your mouth when he felt how wet you already were.

He took his lips off of yours only long enough so that he could position himself at your entrance. He looked up at you, eyes searching yours for the go-ahead to continue. Your hands gripped onto his hips and pulled him into you, causing both of you to moan. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting down onto your shoulder as he thrusted into you.

Your nails raked down his back as you lost yourself in the feeling of having him inside of you. His name fell from your lips repeatedly as his body continued to connect with yours. His hands traveled all over you, caressing every inch of exposed skin with a gentleness that didn’t at all match the intensity that he was using to fuck you, but it felt right nonetheless.

You gripped onto his biceps, nails sinking into his tattoo as you felt your orgasm building. You cursed as his pace continued to increase, his hands finding their home on your hips as he pinned you down.

“Fuck,” every muscle in your body tensed as you came. Your hands grabbed and scratched at his back and shoulders for a grip that they couldn’t find.

Juice wasn’t far behind you, quickly pulling out of you a few moments later before he did something he’d regret. He collapsed onto your chest with a deep sigh, hands gently sliding up and down your sides. It was the first time all afternoon that your body stopped trembling. After a few moments of nothing but the sound of your breathing filling the room, you heard Juice let out a quiet laugh.

You looked down at him, “What’s so funny?”

He rested his hands on your chest before placing his chin on them. There was a tiny smirk on his face as he fought to get his breathing evened out again, “Told you this wasn’t a demotion.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “You’re ridiculous.”

“C’mon,” he joked, “you gotta admit that this all could’ve gone so much worse.”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face, “I guess so,” you locked eyes with him, “How much longer you think you’ll have to keep an eye on me?”

He laughed, leaning up to place a soft kiss on the side of your neck, “Probably for a long time. Just to be safe.”

[0ghostwriter0]

ITS YOU

MASTERLIST

Pairings: Henry Cavill x reader

Word count: 1,043

Warnings: emotional fluff, mature content in part two

Summary: You and Henry are both single could this mean you have a shot

The bitter cold snatched you back from your soft slumber. Hesitantly, you’d fallen asleep in your recently former home. A year of arguments, your boyfriend had finally let you go. The mental abuse was over. Sure, on paper the two of you looked great and historically, he’d always been there for you even for your last red carpet, where you’d freaked out over the swarm of blank faces mindlessly taking photographs. But when the camera were away he was different- your relationship was different. For months, you refused to sleep with him which only made him worse but your mind could no longer cope with the tormenting juxtaposition of life and spotlight. It all came crashing down a month ago when he left. Praying that he’d never comeback, you had hurried to clear out your heartbreaking home.

So here you were, a ghost of a once joyous woman barely awake on cold floorboards in the empty apartment. Buzz. The harsh vibration of the mobile tore your thoughts from the hollow hallway. Softly, your fragile figure swept to the blue light of the cellular device. Blinking rapidly, you refused to accept the reality of the caller. As much as you needed to curl up into a ball rather than taking to anyone, you knew the relentless support and love that would await you on the other side. Taking one last look, the blue light was not deceiving you. It wasn’t him. It was Henry. You couldn’t have answered the phone any slower if you tried but the gallons of tears threatened to flood your excavated heart.

“Y/N/N, you don’t need to talk I just need to know that you’re still breathing okay… can you do that for me?” Your nickname uttered from his lips like a soft hymn. Suddenly, a wave of relief soaked your mind as you let out a deep breath- one you didn’t know you held in. Henry’s comforting smile could be felt through the telephones that connected you both.

“I’m going to be outside in 10 minutes because we both know you don’t want to go to you mothers house, don’t we?” Henry continued as he let out a small but warming chuckle. Picking up on the sounds of crushing traffic, you nodded.

“I may have played Superman but even he doesn’t have super powers that let you see through phones” he smirked. As soon as the words registered in your mind, your cheeks shot to a shade of deep crimson.

“We do.” Releasing a light giggle, you responded sweetly. Ten sweet minutes felt like months as the thought of seeing Henry sent your heart into a fluttering mess. Should you feel like this? He was your friend. The one you called at 3 am because you thought you heard someone breaking in but Henry never complained. For the last 11 years, Henry was overjoyed every time your name lit up his phone. Although, he always wished it wasn’t because he was your person. He wanted to be your partner. The more you think about it, you two were always passing ships. When Henry was in a relationship, you were available and vice versa until now. For five years Henry watched you loving and caring for your former boyfriend and you sat by while he got his heart broken time and time again.

Honk. It was time to face the hurricane. You dragged yourself off of the still cold floor and hobbled your delicate body to the door for the last time. Was this it? Was this what you wanted? Was this what you needed?

Honk. Henry sat patiently in his deep blue Bentley. Although his mind swarmed with different scenarios of how today would pan out, Henry was helplessly searching for you. Stumbling out of the apartment block, your hair is thrown into your face by the autumn breeze. Trembling with excitement, Henry’s face lit up when he saw the stumbling state you were in. Like a gentlemen, the godly man jumped from the car and to your side in the blink of an eye. Courageously, Henry opened the passenger seat for you. Of course Henry had opened doors for you before but this time was different. The shallow breath of the husky man trickled down your neck as his large arms guided you to the seat.

Tall and handsome, Henry left into the drives seat and pulled away from the haunting memories of your former home. With each press of the accelerator, you felt the air get denser until you finally heard the husky man clear his voice.

“ Kal’s been really excited to see you again.” He muttered while turning momentarily to face you. Before facing the road again, the two of you locked eyes but only for a split second. At two and ten, his warm hand clutched the steering wheel.

“I missed you.” The sadness of his voice rung in her ears like a headache. It was true. Like a snake, one of Henry’s claws disappear from the steering wheel. Since you started having problems with your former lover, you couldn’t bare Henry’s pity. Eventually, a warm hand graced your exposed thigh. The sensation sent chills through to your core. You shouldn’t feel this way? Right? But his large hands applied enough pressure that he’d leave no marks but too hard to be classed as gentle.

“Henry, I-“ your words failed you as the car came to a stop outside a very familiar home. Once again, you meet his gaze; his warm honey gaze burns holes in your calm exterior. Drowned in silence, Henry’s hand moves away from your thigh but your arm jumped to keep him close. Taken back by your quick movement, Henry’s eyes widen but you can’t help but fall deeper into his spell.

Woof. Both yours and Henry’s gaze was snatched by the bear like dog’s bark. Sighing softly, Henry retracted back into his seat before jumping out hastily to courteously open your door. With grace, you swung your legs out into the fresh air. Goose bumps created seas over your exposed legs. Dashing and daring, Henry bent down and lifted you from the car. Trembling in his arms, you were overwhelmed with emotions but you never wanted to let go.

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[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.4

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else. 

Chapter Four: Hope Is A Heartache: A glimpse into your past with Spencer as you tour wedding venues together. A/N: chapter titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: mild cursing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, jealousy, this series is a real slow burn babyyy

series masterlist

A/N: you guys are incredible omg!! i’d love to reply to you all under each chapter but unfortunately this is not my main account but my messages are open so feel free to say hi!! i’m so happy you’re all enjoying the story so far, honestly lost for words! 

-

It was a cold day. Cold enough to make your atoms shiver. Dark grey clouds covered every inch of the sky above, hiding the winter sun. The air was brisk. It was harsh against your skin as you got out of the car. And the unwelcoming breeze that followed made you wish that you hadn't forgotten your scarf. 

“What a terrible miserable day.” You muttered while slamming your car door shut. You ambled your way around the hood as Spencer gently closed the passenger side door. You noticed immediately how he shivered slightly when the chilly air bushed against him. A sigh escaped your lips. 

“Honestly Spencer, I can reschedule. I’m sure you would much rather spend this dull day reading in the comfort of your own apartment rather than driving around touring venues with me.” 

“If you promise we stop for coffee before the next place, then I’m all good.” He replied, mouth twitching into an awkward half-smile. 

You smiled back at him. “I’ll get you all the coffee you want doctor.” 

“One is fine Y/N.” Spencer said, the smile on his face widening. “You know there are side effects to having too much caffeine. Anxiety, insomnia, and digestive issues to name a few.” 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. “I’ll repeat that back to you next time we’re working a case and you’re on your fifth cup of coffee in the space of three hours.” 

Spencer chuckled lightly at your response. “I guess that’s fair.” 

There was a brief moment of silence in which the two of you once again found yourselves simply looking into each others eyes. Blocking off the surroundings. Basking in the comforting warm presence of one another. Something that ever since your dinner date a couple of weeks ago happened more often than it probably should have. 

The brunette doctor enjoyed these seconds. To him, they were pure bliss. To him, these moments of uninterrupted silence said more than either of you could ever say with words. Because truth be told Spencer was afraid to talk around you in case he ever said too much.

Which is why he only agreed to tag along today because Garcia was supposed to be here. As the maid of honour she volunteered to join you today since your fiancé couldn't make it. So when Spencer approached the car this morning, noticing immediately how the passenger seat was empty, he half wanted to turn back. He only stayed because of the promise he made your dad. 

Although, he really was going to have to be careful not to slip up and reveal something he probably shouldn't.

After what seemed like eternity, you tilted your head and looked away. Palms of your hands sweating inside your jacket pockets. Heart beating fast. The cold air no longer a nuisance. 

Unknown to the brunette doctor you also quite liked these silent moments. But unlike Spencer, you always felt incredibly guilty afterward. As if you were being dishonest and misleading somehow; rather your heart was. 

With an inaudible sigh, you began making your way toward the entrance. 

“Come on doctor, maybe they’ll have coffee here.” You called out after you, and shortly Spencer was by your side once again. 

The venue was beautiful. You had only stepped in the door and already you were mesmerised. Even though the space was currently empty, you had no trouble at all visualising what you hoped it would look like on your big day. From the colour scheme, to the flowers, and the decorations. 

“I am so glad you made it Y/N!” The wedding planner, Gina, appeared as you were basking in your surroundings. She hugged you briefly before turning her attention to Spencer. “And this must be the infamous Ethan.” 

“Oh actually, no.” You cut in before Spencer could say anything. Gina glanced at you once again, one brow raised. “Ethan couldn't make it.” You advised with a timid smile. “This is Spencer.”

Gina nodded slowly. She looked at Spencer, and as she was eyeing him up you were hoping that she wouldn't recognise the name. See you have known Gina for some time now. You had initially reached out to her about a year and a half ago when you were hoping to marry the very young doctor stood beside you. 

“Well, Spencer it’s nice to meet you.” She spoke, flashing him a pearly white smile. “I’m Gina, the wedding planner.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too Gina.” Spencer responded, returning the smile. You could tell he was feeling slightly uncomfortable being mistaken by your fiancé, and you took a mental note to apologise for that in the car.

“Shall we get started?” Gina asked, turning her attention to you. “Lead the way.” You replied. 

About an hour later the tour had concluded. You made plans to meet Gina at the next venue and after getting the exact address from her, you and Spencer ambled back to the car. 

“What did you think?” You asked while hopping inside the vehicle. 

“I liked it.” Spencer responded while fastening his seatbelt. You shot him a quick glance before securing your own strap. He smiled at you. “What?” “Just checking if you’re lying.” Spencer laughed at your response. “And am I?” You shook your head. “No. It appears you are telling the truth.”

You turned to look ahead before starting the engine. Soon the two of you were on the road. 

“I think it’s more important if you liked it.” Spencer spoke. “I loved it.” “Why do I sense a but.” Spencer enquired with a soft laugh. You giggled. “But I don’t think Ethan would’ve liked it.” “Ah.” 

“You can say it.” You retorted. “What?” Spencer asked. “That he’s not here so he shouldn’t get a say.” From the corner of his eye, Spencer noticed how your grip around the wheel tightened ever so slightly.  

“I’d never say that.” He replied. 

“Now that was a lie doctor.” 

There was a brief moment of silence.

You sighed. “He promised me he’d be here. Just like he promised he wouldn't get called to work during our engagement party.” You stopped the car at a red light and glanced glanced at Spencer who was already looking at you. “So you can say it. Heck, I’m fucking thinking it.” 

Spencer swallowed. He knew he shouldn't get involved. At least more than he already was. He knew he shouldn't indulge you. And he definitely knew that he shouldn't try to steer you away from Ethan. Because even though he really wanted to win you back, he knew that was unfair to you.  

So Spencer was glad the light turned green and your attention was back on the road before he got a chance to respond. 

“You know what was odd?” He said, quickly changing the subject. “What?” You asked. “How Gina didn't try to shake my hand when we met.” He noted, and immediately you bit your bottom lip. Fuck. You didn't realise it then. How could you have not realised? It means that she recognised the name and remembered how you told her he was a germaphobe. 

“She must have just been eager to get going to be honest.” You lied calmly. 

Spencer didn't buy your excuse. “I don’t think that’s it.” He said, trying to get a reaction out of you. “It’s almost as if she knew not to shake my hand.” 

“Honestly Spencer, I wouldn't read too much into it.” You countered. “I mean we are on a tight schedu-.”

“Why are you lying to me Y/N?” He interrupted causing the air to hitch in your throat. “Just like you know when I’m not being truthful Y/N, I can also tell when you’re lying and you’re doing so right now.” 

There was no point evading him any longer. Spencer was stubborn, almost as stubborn as you, and he wasn't going to stop pressing on the matter. Plus it was time he knew the truth. After all this time, he deserved to know the truth. 

Taking a deep breath, you pulled the car over on the side of the road and cut the engine. You turned to look at the brunette doctor who was already looking at you. 

“Do you remember the last time I visited you in prison?” You asked, your voice so timid you weren't even sure Spencer heard you. But he did. And he nodded his head slowly. “Of course I do. It was one of the worst days of my life.” He responded, and you could detect the hurt in his sentence. 

“Well, uhh-” You cleared your throat. Here goes nothing. “That day I came to see you I actually, eh, well I-I wanted to ask if you’d marry me.” 

Spencer was taken aback by your admission. A puzzled expression spread across his face as his mouth parted in shock. He searched his mind for what words to say but nothing seemed quite right. You wanted to marry him? The day he broke your heart by ending things with you so abruptly, you wanted to propose? He couldn't believe it. 

Of course you sensed that he had trouble with wrapping his brain around this, like you knew he would, so you continued. 

“Spencer, I loved you so much and just like the rest of the team I knew in my heart you were innocent. I knew it was only a matter of time before you would get out.” Tears began forming in your eyes and the lump in your throat grew larger with every passing second. 

“When you were locked away, and our life together was taken away from us without warning, I realised I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you.” The salty droplets began trailing down your cheeks and along your jawline. Spencer wanted to reach out and wipe them but he couldn't bring himself to move an inch. He was completely frozen.

“But between trying to clear your name, working the normal caseload, and honestly trying to get out of bed every fucking morning, I needed help to planning what I wanted to be the most perfect day.” You paused to take a quick breath. “Which is why I hired Gina.” 

“Why didn't you say anything?” Spencer asked quietly after a moment of silence. An uneasy yet somewhat freeing silence. 

“You broke up with me Spencer.” You replied. “That day I came to visit you, before I could even finish saying ‘Hi Spencer, I missed you.’, you ended things.”

“Y/N...” He whispered, and without thinking he took your hands in his. “And I know you remember what happened after that so I’m sure you can figure out why I didn't tell you sooner.” You added, corner of your lips twirling into a half-smile. Spencer squeezed your hands and let out a deep sigh. 

“If I-” The brunette agent began but you shook your head to cut him off. “I know you only ended things to protect me Spencer.” You freed your hands from his grasp and gently cupped his cheek. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that he leaned into your touch. 

“Which is why I was never angry with you, why I never resented you. I cannot take back the words I said to you that day but you have to understand it was all the initial shock considering I thought I would be leaving the prison with a fiancé and not completely heartbroken.” 

You let your hand fall from Spencer’s face and ran your fingers through your hair. You cleared your throat. 

“I hope this doesn't change anything between us.” You muttered. “Because I like where we are now, and I would hate-” This time it was Spencer who cut you off. “You have nothing to worry about Y/N.” He said with a timid smile.

“Thank you for telling me.” Spencer added.

“It was time you knew.”

You smiled at him warmly one last time before turning your attention back to the wheel. You started the engine once again and within minutes you were back on the road. 

The two of you drove in congenial silence. As you focused on the directions ahead, feeling grateful that the brunette doctor was understanding, Spencer’s mind raced. 

He couldn't help but wonder where the two of you would be now if he hadn't been so rash - married, maybe with a child by now. He shook the thought away, it hurt too much. 

Of course back then he did what he thought was the right thing to do. He was suspicious that whoever was framing him would come after you, and he knew he couldn't risk that. He would never risk anything bad happening to you. In the end his suspicions were proved correct when Cat and Lindsey kidnapped his mom. And when that happened you were there for him in unimaginable ways, you didn't leave his side for a minute. 

He should have begged for your forgiveness the second the whole ordeal was over. He should have fought harder to win you back, especially since it didn't take long for him to admit he only broke up with you to protect you. Truthfully, he was a coward. He thought perhaps you wouldn't take him back after the hurtful things that were said. 

After all this time, he learned that you only really said what you said because you thought Spencer was the love of your life. 

“I would have said yes.” The brunette doctor whispered.

Stopping at a red light, you turned your head to look at him. A confused look gracing your facial features. Spencer cleared his throat before nervously meeting your gaze. 

“I would have said yes.” He spoke louder. Now you definitely heard him. 

“Spencer...” 

“I know it doesn't matter now, but in case you ever wondered what I would have said if you got to ask me back then.” He paused. “I would have said yes.”

“You don’t have to say that.” You muttered with a soft smile. “I’m not just saying it Y/N. I really mean it.” He emphasised and your heart skipped a beat. 

The thought that crossed your mind next was incredibly wrong. The sudden pull you felt toward the man sitting beside you was inappropriate, misguided even, however it was there. You wanted to kiss him. You really wanted to kiss him. 

Perhaps if you knew that Spencer wanted to kiss you too, you would have leapt across from your seat to smash his lips against yours. To tangle your fingers in his hair, cradle his lap, feel his hands travel up your back and hold you close.

But you didn't know. So you hesitated. And as you hesitated, you were promptly brought back to reality by the car behind you. The beeping of the horn signalised the lights had turned green and it was time to move along. 

With a timid smile, you broke eye contact and began to drive. 

Heavy-sitting silence enveloped around you. Spencer noticed immediately the slight change in your demeanour but he chose not to comment on it. 

See, just seconds ago the brunette agent noticed a look in your eyes that he hasn't seen since you were dating. A look of devotion, amity. A look that burned the hope inside of him even more. 

An image formulated in his brain. Image of you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress, him standing at the end of the alter while your dad gives you away, both of you tearing up. It was foolish, yes. Spencer should have known better than to hold out hope that one day that image would become reality but he couldn't help it. 

And as the image became more vivid, the pain he felt in his heart grew stronger. Knowing that one day you wanted to be his forever, and now he was helping you tour venues for a wedding he didn't want to happen. The perfect image came crumbling down. Reality hit. 

No matter how much he wanted it, you weren't his anymore. 

Keep thinking about us and how things get in between But if it is love, it doesn't matter, you don't belong to me But I can't let go

-

A/N: hello friends! i hope you liked the fourth chapter!! i’d love to hear your feedback and what you think will happen next! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01​, @reverdevivre​, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy​, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​

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[flowerwrites06]

break my mind’s eye II — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Special 

Word Count: 5k+ 

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation 

“You’re…letting me go?” Belle stared at her manager Yeeun who, by her clear frown was not mistaken in her harsh words. The two stood in the others’ office with her rack of clothing standing hopelessly in the corner of the room.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to book a venue for a designer with no prior backing?” She continued with her berating.

The younger female assumed it must have around an hour since she arrived and began the onslaught of scolding for missing her fashion show. Belle tried to explain that she needed to help her brother out in a personal situation but family commitment apparently to her was not deemed that important.

“I trusted you and you fucking humiliated me in front of fashion critics.” Yeeun gestured wildly before pinching the bridge of her nose. “You had so much potential too.”

Her heart dropped; slowly wishing that she would go back to just scolding her instead of reminding her of what could have been achieved if the fashion show went on. All the building blocks tirelessly built to get to this point now crumbling down. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to bring back what you just threw away.” The older female spoke in brutal honesty as she usually did except it hit Belle harder than normal. “Go on. I can’t help you anymore. Not when there’re plenty of other designers who actually care enough to come to their first fashion show.”

Belle bit down her bottom lip, sun dipping outside casting a dull grey-ish light in the minimalistic office. Photos of all the different designers Yeeun represented now staring down at her in disappointment as she dragged her rack of clothes out of the office.

-

The morning welcomed sharp chills even through her coat and scarf adorned her body. She grabbed the two pieces of clothing hurriedly since her new wardrobe was organized by Nana who didn’t really know how the girl usually kept everything. Of course that led to a crap load of confusion in the morning when Belle tried to pair something decent and it turned out to be too thin for the temperature she struggled through now.

It didn’t help her situation when her lower belly still ached a little from last night and her head pounded from the lack of proper sleep.

Belle stopped short in front of the office building to see two men standing in front of her, one of them familiar enough for her to realize who they were for. “He’s having you follow me now?” She seethed.

“Master Jeon found out your car was still in the carpark and you took a train so he asked us to drive it here.” Jongho explained plainly, gesturing to the Camry behind them.

Who knew the mere sight of a vehicle could bring this much relaxation in the midst of this stress?

The female sighed pushing the rack towards the hood. “Thank you but please don’t call him ‘Master Jeon’ in front of me.” Belle kept her voice firm, opening the hood and placing all her clothes into an empty box she had with all her discarded designs.

“But we have to.” Jonghos’ brows furrowed, pouting a little; silently reminding that he wasn’t all the much older than any of them, perhaps even younger.

The other guard besides Jongho took the liberty of pushing the rack away in front of the office building.

Belle dared to take another look at the building again. Not too long ago, she walked into this very building with bright eyes and possibly an even brighter future. Memories of Yeeun smiling at her newest designs, approving them to a point where she even got her a chance at a fashion show. Three critics sat at the audience that night and every single one of them looked more important than the last. Unfortunately Belle had someone far more important than any fashion critic or opportunity. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing grew harder and harder to determine.

“Out here, he’s Jungkook.” She spoke still looking up at the building with a more sour expression now at the sound of his name coming from her lips. “And I’m driving.”

Jongho didn’t protest much on the demand and gave her the keys.

“So what’s the real reason Jungkook sent you?” Belle asked as they drove through the city streets. The car had been pleasantly so much warmer than outside or in the train and she grew more thankful as the ice under her skin melted.

Jongho stammered lightly before sighing. “Master—” He cleared his throat. “D-Jungkook did get a little…suspicious that you might try to find a way to get out of the deal. It’s all still—fresh, I guess.”

The female scoffed, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “He put my brothers’ life under threat and thinks I’m going to run away like some sorry bitch?” She spat pressing down the urge to stomp on the brakes and hopefully run over Jungkook accidently when they reached the mansion. “You’re both going home.” Belle finalized ignoring any stutter of disapproval from the two males.

“But he—”

“But nothing…if he’s so scared of me running away then he should come meet me himself instead of sending his men.” Past the bustling city, Belle drove into the familiar road towards the secluded mansion.

The last time she drove down this path her life was so much more different than it was now. How could it all just change in the span of a day? All because one man had too much power over others.

Then she stomped on the brakes, the shaking hand of the speed checker accelerating at a worrying rate up to the hundreds.

Muffled tire and engine sounds numbing her ears as her stomach jumped from the push across the slightly graveled road.

Heart pumping adrenaline, fueling the wildfire in her body, pushing away memories of his fucking hands on her skin, the disappointment she brought to everyone even herself.

“Ma’am!” A frightened voice called out from behind her, mentally slapping her back to reality.

Letting out deep breath Belle slowly braked the car again bringing them back down from the rush as the mansion now came into view. “Sorry.” She glanced over at Jongho who looked more concerned for the female compared to the guard at the back who feared for his life in a split second.

Into the courtyard she stared at the collection of guards who once again stood lined up the entrance of the mansion. An intense feeling of déjà vu flushed over her before turning to the two guards. “Alright, out you go. I need to get to work.” Going to the fashion-house now became the only thing that could make her day that little bit better.

“Master Jeon—he’ll be angry at us if we left you alone.”

Belle saw something oddly familiar in Jonghos’ eyes that she couldn’t shake off. Seeing the recognizable glint reminded her that Taehyung was not the only victim to Jungkooks’ power. “If Madame Saito sees two strange men with me, she’s going to try and call the police. I don’t want her involved in this whole mess.” She explained. “Is there any way you can keep yourself hidden so Jungkook at least knows that you were doing your job?” Both men nodded thankfully.

She rested back on the seat, closing her eyes as her body reminded her again of the anxiety burning her from the inside. “I need to get some warmer clothes anyway so stay here.”

-

Nana told Belle that Jungkook was out all morning and a little bit of the day on important business meetings around the city. Not that the younger female really gave a shit where he went but once again…common fucking courtesy.

The drive to the fashion-house was quiet aside from some light music playing on her radio.

They arrived at Madame Saitos’ fashion-house. An elegant slab of purple and gold with the monogram of the Japanese Kanji symbol that meant ‘elegant’. Belle remembered getting the job a few weeks before her parents passed away. It immediately turned from a dream job to the only thing keeping her from breaking down after Taehyung started going into a downward spiral.

Now more than ever she needed the sweet caress of fresh fabric under her fingers to calm her down, to prevent another incident like the one on the road from happening. As per her request, Jongho and the other guard who later introduced himself as Jisung, opted to walk into a nearby café.

Belle walked through the glass doors, all her worries seemingly melting away at the look of neatly organized clothes on the different shelves and stands. Her clothes fit warm and snug on her now and the level upstairs for designing awaited her arrival.

“Bella, darling!” She heard the familiar voice echo through the building.

Turning to the right Belle couldn’t help but smile seeing the bright woman walk over to her in a gorgeous purple pantsuit. She gave her a small bow which she waved away.

“How many times have I told you? You’re a fellow designer.” Saito tapped her chin which would have made her giggle.

But her stomach dropped when reality sunk in and she realized Saito was wrong. “I’m not a designer anymore.” Belle smiled sadly.

“And why is that?” She raised her own chin, deep purple lips looking more defined and her dark brows furrowed.

It was as if her mind opened up the millions of drawers she tried to lock up to help her survive the rest of the day but the younger female adorned a much smaller smile. “Yeeun let me go. I couldn’t go through the fashion show on a family emergency.”

Saito scoffed loudly before waving her hand. “Managers don’t make designers. Designers make designers.” She pressed hand over Belle’s heart. “She’s one manager, darling. Don’t let it get to you.”

If it were a less strange time than this, Belle would instantly be consoled by Saitos’ words but there was so much more. So many more things she wanted to talk about but she feared no one’s ears were understanding enough. Even she couldn’t hear herself talk about what happened. “Thank you.” She muttered forcing her mind to feel somewhat relaxed.

The older female smiled, patting her cheek. “I have to go personally deliver this to a client.” She rolled her eyes looking down at the cover hanging over her arm. “He’s this big businessman who wants a suit tonight and just needs to thank the designer in person.” She scoffed making Belle chuckle. “You’ll be in charge for the rest of the day, darling.”

Belle’s heart fluttered in excitement as she immediately nodded.

“Oh and…since you have more time on your hands without Yeeun pestering you. I was wondering if you wanted to work on a few designs for the Spring Line.” Saito smiled casually not entirely noticing that fireworks were going off in her mind in celebration.

She was getting a chance at another line. Another opportunity. Belle couldn’t help giggling a little but she quickly stopped herself. “You’re not joking?”

“Of course not. You’re the best designer I’ve had in years.” She patted her shoulder comfortingly. “One thing though, I’ll need four designs by tomorrow morning so we can be ahead of schedule. I’ve done six that you can look at to see what the concept is but let your wonderful mind run wild.”

A light hint of anxiety seeped through the thick elation bursting through her veins but Belle ignored it, merely smiling at the older female as she walked out of the building.

-

Sun dipped behind the skyscrapers, warm light shining through the glass giving the whole store a deep warm glow as Belle stood in front of the main counter. Hand ached a little from holding onto the pencil for too long. Grey scratches against the ecru paper of flowy trains and minimalistic patterns to symbolize re-birth in some way.

Something she admired about Saito was her excessive need to shy away from the norm of flowers and nature. Maybe thinking a little deeper into what spring meant and really bringing the art out of her fashion. Part of why despite their prices, people still walked in and out purchasing their numbers.

It was a breath of fresh air from the line of fashion and a wonder to behold during Fashion Week.

Unfortunately Belle’s little bubble of inspiration was rudely popped when the door opened with Jonghos’ voice echoing in the building.

“Ma’am…Master Jeon is asking for you at the mansion.” He tried to speak quietly but the walls resonated even the smallest of sounds.

Her brows furrowed, dropping the pencil on the table making her fingers cramp up ever so slightly. “What does he need me for?” Anger rose and burned through her eyes.

“He said it’s important.” Jongho shrugged.

The woman huffed averting her gaze before jumping off her chair. “Did he call you? Is he still on the phone?” Belle stomped over to the male who tried to back away a little but the glass door closed behind him. “What could he possibly want from me now that’s so damn important?” He already got everything else.

“I don’t know, ma’am…he—he didn’t say.”

“Well tell him that I have a lot of work to do and he can wait.” She glared at the young male even though truly he wasn’t the one she was angry at.

Eventually Jongho walked towards the car with slouched shoulders leaving Belle to go back to work on her counter. The scratches were a lot harsher due to her shaky fingers so she reminded herself to re-do some of these sketches again when it was time for coloring.

“Ma’am?” Jongho called out again in a much softer voice.

Belle’s pencil broke off making her fingers curl up into a fist but she forced herself to take a deep breath. “What is it, Jongho?”

“Master Jeon wants to speak with you.” He held out a phone walking towards the counter.

She glanced at the male before down at the phone, accepting it gently and putting it on her ear. “Yes?”

“Are you trying to be a fool?” Jungkooks’ tone took a dark turn from what Belle heard yesterday; more growly and deep like he had been yelling all day.

“I already said I’m working.” Belle muttered calmly. “What’s so important?”

“We need to go to an event. My aunt and uncle have invited me to come tonight and I need you to be there to get rid of any future suitor arrangements.” He explained with that same infuriating voice acting like she was doing something wrong trying to work.

“I need to some things done, Jungkook, can’t we re-schedule a meeting with your aunt and uncle?” Hands brushed away the pieces of led that broke off from her pencil.

“No we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think you realize just what’s at stake if you piss me off too much.” He challenged.

“Your deal was that you’ll stay away from Taehyung if I stay with you.” She corrected.

“You should know that I can change deals in an instant.”

Belle gripped onto the phone suppressing the urge to throw it across the room as she gulped down a lump in her throat. Her dormant anxiousness now fully erupting through every limb in her body. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She stated before hanging up not wanting to hear his voice anymore as she gave it over to Jongho.

Angrily packing up her stuff, she decided to let Jongho drive this time to prevent any incidents on the road from her heated up mind.

-

So much for fucking freedom. He couldn’t even re-schedule a meeting to let her work. Maybe it was an overreaction but looking at the situation, Belle thought that being livid and frustrated was called for.

The sky turned purple by the time they reached the mansion and Belle barely waited for the car to stop before she climbed out. Grabbing her things, she walked through the entrance ignoring any attempt at the guards trying to hold the bags.

“Finally her Majesty has arrived, what took you so long?” Jungkook, already dressed up in a black suit with a white shirt slightly unbuttoned, jabbed at the female right as she walked through the archway.

Belle merely glared at the male walking past him up the stairs while Nana followed her helplessly. The older female almost wanted to apologize for him but couldn’t find the time as she chased her.

In their shared room, Belle placed the bags of her work next to her side of the bed. Tears of frustration flooded in her eyes a little which she tried her best to hide when she saw Nana come up behind her.

“Dear…” She muttered comfortingly but the younger female shook her head.

“It’s okay, please. I’ll get ready myself.” Belle smiled through teary eyes before walking past her.

Ankle length daffodil-yellow dress adorned her freshly showered body, long curls with the top half clipped away from her face and some shoes to match. As she coated her lashes her mind tried to organize how she was going to rush to the event and then come back to finish all the designs. The deeper the thoughts moved, the more anxiety bubbled inside her almost making her makeup application a little dodgy but decent enough.

“Dear, Master Jeon is calling for you.” Nana spoke gently as if knowing that the sound of his name stroke a nerve in her constantly.

“I’m done, I’m coming.” Belle answered, hands leaning against the edge of the vanity table in the walk-in wardrobe trying to calm down her breathing. I hope you’re okay, Taehyung. It was only the first day and she could feel the weight of it all bearing down on her body. For the first time since yesterday, the woman almost wanted to admit that she may be lot more vulnerable than she thought.

Shaking her head roughly she stared at herself in the mirror. Dusty rose lips mimicking the light hint of colour on her cheeks and a glimmering eyes mostly from the illusion in the shimmery eyeshadow. At least she looked put together. Her body and mind were a whole different story.

Nana held onto her hand as they walked down the stairs, Belle held onto the dress to ensure she didn’t trip and make her stressful day even worse. Little bits of her hair dropped over her face but it was only when she reached the end.

Her eyes slowly trailed up to see Jungkook staring at her up and down the way he did the first time they met.

“What’s wrong?” She looked down at her outfit for a moment, seeing absolutely nothing wrong but Jungkook must have had something to say.

The man stayed silent for a few minutes shifting in his position. “Nothing. Let’s go.” He muttered coldly walking to the exit with three of his guards already walking behind him like robots.

Belle followed the trail, gripping at her clutch purse.

Dull blue hue adorned the sky when they were outside. The guards dispersed to the sides giving Belle way to move forward where she saw Jungkook looking over his shoulder as if he was searching for someone.

Not a word uttered, Jungkook raised an arm and let it hover over her back as they walked towards the luxurious black Sedan shining even in this grey-ish light.

-

Throughout the car ride, Belle tried to ask Jungkook what the event was for and what they would be doing for the rest of the night. All her questions answered with detached replies that gave her no explanation whatsoever making it highly difficult to keep her patience.

“At least tell me how long it’s going to be?” She asked in a much softer tone now.

“An hour or something, alright? Now just keep quiet and don’t embarrass me.” Jungkook snapped before looking out the window.

Belle wanted to be shocked at the sudden change in behavior from the dashing and charming man she saw yesterday but this just served as a good reminder. This was all a fucking joke. She was dressing up to play pretend with a scum of a man who had no care for anyone but his own needs and reputation.

The momentary silence broke by muffled sounds of flashing cameras and people calling out or yelling at the glimmering bodies on the carpet.

Jungkook had the car door opened for him and the second he walked out, he could hear the people growing more restless and the cameras going wild.

Belle shifted towards his side now keeping her clutch purse on her chest.

He held his hand out and she accepted it to keep up appearances, adorning an elegant smile on her rosy lips. Their fingers intertwined with one another as they walked past them with their personal line of guards on each side.

Sounds of violins made her ears prick up and the smell of chocolate touched her nostrils, her stomach rumbling a little. Thankfully the incessant noise from every corner was able to conceal it.

The event hall shone in golden light with a crystal chandelier centering the ceiling, buffet standing on the far left, slow dancing in the middle and a sitting area on the far right. People were crowded but nothing like a bustling city. Instead of strangers pressing against each other in trains or trying to push past to get to work, people kindly slithered through crowds or made pleasant conversation before they moved onto the next group.

Though Belle despised the reasoning for being here, for years this was an event she has always wanted to attend. The class, the culture, the clothes; all of it surrounded her like a welcoming hug and she didn’t really protest when Jungkook led her further into the hall.

Fake elegant smile now melted into something more genuine as she curiously peered over at the performers in gold satin dresses dancing in the middle of the hall. On her left, a vast selection of foods, some she didn’t even recognize but the chocolate fountain wasn’t hard to detect and her stomach shouted again.

“Auntie!” Jungkook called out, his usual sour mood moved to a smile as he leaned to press a kiss on an older womans’ cheek.

The lady looked as elegant and bright as the hall they were in, wearing a white dress with golden hair pins in her neat bun while the man next to her—Jungkook’s uncle wore the same simple suit his nephew did. Except he had a bow on unlike her ‘partners’ more unkept look. “I’m so happy you could be here!” His aunt cheered softly, her wide smile showing off all the lines on her face.

“Why would I not? Your events are always my favorite.” He smiled again almost to a point where Belle almost suspected it may have been fake.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” His aunt nodded at the younger male whose lips twitched a little making him grin wider.

This one looking a lot more obviously forced.

His aunt turned to the side and called someone over. A woman who looked around their age, tall and slender with long black hair flowing past her lower back and her body adorning an azure dress, loosely stitched rhinestones in large clusters. All of that topped up with some bright red lipstick and shimmering blue eyeshadow to match the clothes. She gave Jungkook a big, advertisement smile.

Belle felt Jungkooks’ hand leave her and immediately hold his out towards the woman which she accepted happily. She introduced herself as Suyeon, only side-glancing her before fixating her gaze on the man instead.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Suyeon.” His charming tone sounded all too familiar.

“I think you two would hit it off really well.” Her aunt declared already off of a two second conversation. Finally the older woman managed to look over at her. “And who’s this?”

Jungkook hummed in question before looking at Belle. “Right this is—” He paused for a moment staring at the woman as if he was already starting to have second thoughts. “This is a friend…Belle.”

Belle smiled at the three new people even though her heart burned with anger at how quickly he changed his mind.

“Of course.” His aunt smiled.

The four elites dived into deep conversation as Belle quietly smiled and admired the performances instead; hoping they would distract her somehow. None of them really cared about her presence here which didn’t help her fury towards Jungkook.

Ah Jungkook.

He who conveniently shifted on the other side of her so he could stand next to Suyeon instead, conversing with her pleasantly. Everything about their deal now seemed long forgotten leaving Belle to worry about the fate of her brother.

“So…uh—” Suyeon spoke towards her now.

“Belle.” She answered softly, keeping up with that smile tiresomely.

“I’ve never seen you in these kinds of parties before.”

“This is my first time.”

“Ah—” Suyeon gave her a fake smile. “Makes sense.” She eyed her up and down as the other three of them laughed.

Even Jungkook didn’t seem to stop finding it funny.

“I mean…no offense, darling but yellow isn’t really a nice color for these events. They look a little—childish.” Venom flowed from her tongue when she spewed those words.

Whatever anxiety burning Belle from the inside now was momentarily pushed down as the fashion lover inside her scurried up. “It’s called daffodil…not yellow.” She emphasized the word making it sound like an uncouth description to use. “If we are talking about childish, perhaps you could take a closer look at the plastic rhinestones on your dress hanging on for dear life on a single thread.” She looked at her up and down this time. “I highly doubt that’s Louis Vuitton work.”

Her words silenced the four of them immediately. Suyeons’ photo-worthy smile now turned into an ugly frown, the aunts’ brows were raised in intrigue and Jungkook stared at her in shock. Belle merely smiled as the older woman of the group tried to change the topic now into something more lighthearted.

Once the confidence drowned out, anxiety kicked in again wanting to walk out of this vicinity right now and never look back. The four of them dispersed a little but Jungkook walked straight to her, holding her arm and bringing her close. “Behave yourself, alright? There’s no need to be rude.”

Belle scoffed yanking out of his grip and walking towards the buffet hoping that some food would help her mood. The clip in her hair began to prick at her aching head and her shoes felt like they were tighter by the minute. Nothing felt right about this night.

“Oh Belle…” She heard a drawling, sickly sweet voice.

Just her luck. Looking over to her side, she gave Suyeon a similar grin trying to look as friendly as possible even though their previous interaction was anything but that. “Suyeon—”

“I hope there’s no hard feelings about my comment.” There was no genuine nature in her tone in the slightest but Belle played along, once again playing pretend that everything was going swell.

“It’s all forgotten.” She shook her head.

“I also hope you could give me some more fashion advice.”

Belle turned to look at the female and a dampening chill trailed all the way down from her chest to her torso, body stepping back in shock. She looked down at her daffodil dress now stained with red almost forming into an orangish color. Gasps echoed throughout the room and she could feel the stares on her. Staring up at Suyeon, she was holding out an empty glass with a sinister smirk on her face.

“What color is that, little rat?”

“Suyeon!”

Belle could’ve sworn she heard Jungkooks’ aunts’ yelling but she was already heading for the bathroom, the whole day picked at her final straw.

-

If in a better mood, her eyes would have been shining in glee at the gorgeous white marble bathroom with bright gold detail. But right now they were flooding with hot tears that stained down her cheeks. Body shivering a little from the harsh chill on her entire front, some pieces of her hair completely damp and the skin on her chest reddened as well.

Belle whined lightly under her breath, lips quivering as she grabbed some tissues and dabbed off the excess liquid not wanting to face the crowd outside.

She heard a woman squeal a little when the door opened but she couldn’t care less to look.

Her head was numb, her body flushing from hot to cold and her body too stubborn to stop shaking from the cold and anxiety.

Finally her eyes flickered to the mirror to see a familiar figure standing next to her. The mere sight of him caused her to sigh in elevated frustration. “If you’re just going to yell at me—” Belle spoke in a cracked voice.

“I saw what she did.” Jungkook immediately replied in a mutter.

Belle sniffled washing off the liquid from the ends of her hair, feeling her clothes now sticking to her dampened skin.

The male padded closer reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” She backed away as one hand held onto the dripping hair. “You chose your wife, now leave me alone.” Belle hated that Jungkooks’ previous behavior created a lump in her throat, fresh tears arriving at the brim of her eyes.

A sigh passed his lips as he lowered his head, leaning against the edge of the counter. “Her joke wasn’t funny.” Jungkook murmured. “I just laughed for the sake of my aunt, she stares at my every move when I make conversation with these suitors. I can never seem to gain the courage to upset her.” He shifted in his position. “Truth be told, you were the most beautiful one here.”

Belle shook her head, another tear dropping down her cheek even after touching up her makeup. “I just wanna go home…” She tried to hug herself but it only made the clothes on her front more uncomfortable. “Please.”

Jungkook searched the womans’ expression finding nothing but distress and discomfort in her whole being. He nodded before shrugging off his coat with a sigh. “Here.” He held his coat out.

She hesitated for a moment glancing up at the man before caving as she draped the coat on. Thankfully it was big enough to cover up most of her dress. Once again his hand hovered over her back as they walked out of the bathroom.

Most of the people were back to their own conversations save for Jungkooks’ aunt who still looked worriedly at the two.

“I didn’t know she was going to behave like that, sweetie.” His aunt genuinely looked like she regretted inviting the menace to the event. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” She rubbed her shoulder a little.

Belle smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to you at a better time, auntie.” Jungkook kissed her cheek again before they walked out of the hall in silence.

Trying their best to ignore the paparazzi, the two were led into their car and were driven home in silence. Belle scooched on the far side on the back seat looking out the window hoping that this day would end. But it couldn’t.

Heat flushed at the back of her neck when she looked at the time. Her work tomorrow would start at around nine after she paid a visit to Taehyung in the rehab center. So that left only a few hours with no sleep to finish the rest of her designs for the spring line. Right up until they reached the mansion, her head began planning all the ways she would keep herself awake and finish the job she was set.

-

“What happened, mistress?” Nana asked and Belle just replied that a snake got a hold of a wine glass before they walked upstairs.

Jungkook walked over to the bar the last time she glimpsed back only for a second.

Forcing herself to have a cold shower, she put on simple pair of grey sweatpants and a matching sweater with her hair up in a ponytail. Her body million times more comfortable now in dry and warm clothing while her dress was being soaked. Annoyance washed over thinking of the possibility that she might not be able to take the stain off.

Belle sat on the floor of the walk-in wardrobe, the perfect place to lay out all her designs and begin her sketching session.

Jungkook walked into the room when she was figuring out where to add details on one of her dresses. He paused a little looking at her deeply engrossed in her work.

She merely glanced at the male before going back to her tasks. Talking to him or even looking at him would only remind her of the time he stole away and for what? Humiliation and a wine stain on one of her favourite dresses? Belle even physically shook her head at the thought. The fact he even threatened to break the deal for this shit only worsened the fury.

But she couldn’t break any more pencils over her anger. Now Belle had to work. If anything needed to go well, it was this. So as the hours kept ticking away, the woman did nothing but do what she did best.

While Jungkook giving one last glance at her, fell fast asleep on the bed assuming she might just come there when she’s ready.

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[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Thirteen: By a Thread

I know how much some of you love the original games, so I hope you enjoyed this one too :) 

If you’re new here, hello - this is a Chishiya x OC/reader fic. You can find the full fanfic, including this chapter on AO3 here.  

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Like always, the hotel lobby was crammed with people. I kept my head low as I moved quietly through the crowds, hoping to avoid the gaze of the militants dotted around. The last thing I wanted was to draw the attention of Niragi and his troupe. When I finally took my slip of paper, I went to stand by a corner before opening it.

Group four.                             

‘Looks like we’re together.’ An arm wrapped around my shoulder and Kuina appeared beside me. ‘It must be luck.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ I said. ‘We could end up with a Hearts game.’ Unconsciously, my eyes roamed the lobby for any sign of white.

‘Yeah, we could. But there’s only a one in four chance of that.’ She leaned in close, and I could practically hear the grin in her voice. ‘Speaking of hearts, he’s not in our group.’

I tensed, causing Kuina to giggle. She must’ve noticed me looking for him, but she’d gotten the wrong idea completely.

‘It’s not what you think,’ I told her, embarrassed. ‘He left some things in my room, kind of like a peace offering. I just wanted to thank him… and maybe apologise for being a brat and refusing to speak to him.’

I hid beneath my hood as Kuina began to slowly steer me through the crowded room. There were several of Niragi’s thugs standing around in their groups, but I hadn’t seen Niragi himself yet.  

‘You can thank him after we win our game,’ Kuina said as we walked outside. Then in a low mutter, she added, ‘you werebeing a brat though.’

‘Hey, that’s not fair,’ I laughed. ‘He was in the wrong too, you know.’

Although I held onto moments like this, there was no covering up the anxiety I felt deep inside. It was an unfamiliar worry, one that had appeared only recently, having crept up on me when I was least expecting it. And Chishiya was at its core. I was wavering between wishing he were in our group, and the relief that he wasn’t. I was glad that he was somewhere else, just in case we actually did run into a Hearts game. But at the same time, I wanted him by my side just to know that he was okay, that he was alive. And the uncertainty would drive me mad.

But overlying all of this, I was terrified of the fact that I felt this way at all.

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

There were only five of us in our group, so the car ride was more comfortable this time. Behind the wheel was an intense woman in her thirties who kept chewing at her lip. In stark contrast, a young woman with long hair tied in a pale pink scrunchie was sitting in the front passenger seat. She was biting her nails nervously, the clipped sound overwhelming in the quiet car. The final member of our group was a teenage boy. He seemed calm as he stared out the window, but the way he kept playing with the hem of his t-shirt betrayed his fear.

Kuina and I didn’t talk much, but there was comfort in our quietness. It was never said aloud, but we were both worried about what lay ahead. Even though I trusted in Kuina’s strength, and she probably trusted in my intelligence, there were some games designed to ensure only one person survived.

The car took us further into the city’s outskirts, and I began to wonder whether our driver actually knew where she was going. A glance into the front revealed that she had a piece of paper with directions resting on the dashboard.

Eventually, the car pulled up outside a set of gateposts leading into to a suburban park. I mentally groaned at the sight.

Not another park.

Unlike Shinjuku Gyoen, this was smaller, with trees lining the edges and flat fields designed for football games. As I got out of the car, I could see the usual white sign pasted to a brick gatepost.

GAME – こちらです.

I spared a glance at Kuina, but her eyes were set ahead, and her jaw was tight with determination.

I wish I had her confidence.

There was no bleep as the five of us walked through the gateposts. That could only mean the park itself wasn’t the game arena.

But it soon became clear what was.

In the centre of the fields, a large circus tent – a big top – glowed red from within like a giant pinstripe cloud. Spotlights illuminated the space outside, staining the grass with splotches of primary colours. But there was something jarring about this circus, something subtly off. There was no music. There was total, deadening silence as we approached the tent entrance.

‘Do you think this is it?’ the woman with the pink scrunchie asked, biting her fingernail.

Our driver scoffed, pursing her lips. ‘What else would it be?’ Then she headed inside, followed by Pink Scrunchie and the teenage boy.

Kuina smiled reassuringly at me. ‘Let’s go.’

With a nod, I ducked into the tent, Kuina following close behind.

Inside, it was immense. The entrance led out onto a walkway between tall rows upon rows of empty seats. The tent ceiling stretched high above us like a shining red and white toothpaste sky. In the middle, on either side of the circus ring were two tall platforms, the space in the middle blocked from view by a strong steel fence.

Kuina and I found the others stood at the bottom of one of the tall platforms, where a pile of phones was set out on a white table. We both took a phone and held it to our faces.

‘FACE REGISTRATION IN PROCESS.

PLEASE WAIT FOR THE GAME TO COMMENCE.’

Now that I was at the base of the first platform, it seemed insanely tall. And if the rope ladder attached to the side was any indicator, we were going to be expected to climb to the top.

The teenage boy was looking anxiously at the steel fence obscuring the middle of the circus ring. ‘What do you think’s in there?’

Probably acid, or something equally deadly.

Our driver dismissed it with a shrug. ‘Guess we’ll just have to find out.’

‘REGISTRATION CLOSED. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.’

As always, I listened closely. I could only hope it wasn’t a Spades game. My arm was still wrapped in bandages, and while it was certainly healing well, I didn’t want to set it back yet again.

‘GAME – TIGHTROPE

DIFFICULTY – FOUR OF CLUBS

TIME LIMIT – 20 MINUTES.’

A tightrope?

I craned my neck, squinting up at the space above. Sure enough, a metal wire glinted, taut between the two platforms. It was so thin that I hadn’t even noticed it until now.

‘RULES –

PLAYERS MUST CROSS THE TIGHTROPE AND REACH THE OTHER SIDE.

ONCE ON THE PLATFORM, PLAYERS CANNOT LEAVE IT WITHOUT CROSSING THE TIGHTROPE.

THE GAME WILL COMMENCE IN TWO MINUTES.’

Clutching the phone, I felt some relief. It was a Clubs game, the best out of the lot. It meant there was likely a chance we could all survive.

‘So, what do we do?’ Pink Scrunchie asked, eying the rope ladder leading to the top. ‘Do we climb up?’

The driver huffed. ‘Do whatever you want—’

‘No,’ I interjected. The timing… it was just like the Tag game. ‘Not just yet. There’s a reason we’ve been given two minutes before the game starts. There must be something around here to help us cross it.’

Everyone looked at me, confused, before I realised I’d spoken in English. Luckily, Kuina came to my aid and translated as best she could.

The driver raised a brow. ‘And why would they bother doing that? The game-makers don’t exactly want to help us.’

I thought back to the Eight of Hearts, the teenage girl, the businessman’s body, his vest glowing yellow. ‘Because there’s always a solution, otherwise it’s not a game.’

Kuina adjusted her quit-smoking aide and nodded at me. Leaving the others at the base of the platform, we both jogged around the tent, checking between the seats and behind curtains to find anything that might help us. If this was a circus, that meant there had to be equipment. At first, it seemed like we were the only ones searching, until the teenage boy called out from the backstage area.

‘Hey, there’s some stuff over here!’

Running over, we ducked beneath some curtains into a backstage area before we found the boy, the driver and Pink Scrunchie all stood looking at a large storage unit filled with circus tools. Some of it, like the tricycles and spinning plates, was useless to us, but there had to be something in here.

‘GAME START.’

‘The hell?’ Kuina grumbled. ‘How has it already been two minutes?’  

I began scrabbling through the pile, brushing aside a set of juggling clubs. ‘皆んな、何かを取る.’ Everyone, take something.

Truth be told, there wasn’t much that was useful, and some of it couldn’t be carried up a rope ladder. But in the end, I chose a set of vibrant purple aerial silks. Beside me, Kuina was holding a bungee cord, the teenage boy had a large hoop, Pink Scrunchie had taken a diabolo, and the driver was gripping a long pole.

‘Let’s go,’ she said, leading us back to the performance hall and the ring.

One by one, we each climbed the rope ladder leading up to the top of the platform. I put my phone between my teeth and draped the aerial silks over my shoulder before following Kuina up to the top, and once I finally clambered over the edge and stood up, the ladder dropped away.

Now, it was just us and the tightrope.

‘Guys…’

It was the teenage boy. He was peering over the edge into the center of ring below, the space obscured by the fence. I took a step forward and looked down. It was a pit, the edges raised before dipping again. It was brimming with murky brown-green water, like a neglected algal pond, except it was much, much more than that. Raised brown bumps poked through the surface like tiny islands, occasionally sliding and shifting as ripples tore through our reflections.

Crocodiles.

‘15 MINUTES REMAINING.’

‘There’s no time to waste standing around,’ the driver said. She pointed at Pink Scrunchie. ‘You were first up here, so you should go first.’

Pink Scrunchie flinched, her fingers tightening around the diabolo. I felt myself growing more and more irritated with the driver. From the moment we arrived she had been completely unhelpful, trying to boss everyone around when she had no idea what she was doing. It was really starting to tick me off, and from the looks of it, I wasn’t the only one. I opened my mouth to object, but Kuina beat me to it.

‘Oi! You don’t have any right to decide who goes first,’ she snapped. ‘If anyone goes first it should be you.’

Although meant well, it wasn’t a good idea to pick a fight now.

Really not helpful, Kuina.

‘Look,’ I began, but Pink Scrunchie cut me off.

‘It’s okay,’ she said nervously. ‘I’ll go first. I’ll do it.’

I wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to, but for some reason I couldn’t. One of us would have to go eventually anyway. Guilt stirred within me as she approached the edge of the platform, and even though I would never admit it, I was glad that I didn’t have to go first.

She crouched down and wrapped the strings around the diabolo, pulling it firmly so that the hourglass shape remained slotted around the wire as she pulled on the strings. I heard her take a deep breath as she put one foot on the tightrope.

The crocodiles stirred below.

Pulling the strings tight, she stepped fully onto the wire. Her body swayed, and she yanked harder on the diabolo, using its shape and the tension of the strings to balance herself.

As I watched, it became obvious that it wasn’t going to work. The diabolo couldn’t move unless she walked backwards and pulled it. But it was too late, it was much too late because when she took another step, the diabolo slipped.

As did her balance.

There was a shriek and a zip of metal as her body teetered off the edge. She hit the water with a loud clap, and the tent revibrated with her screams as the crocodiles sprung, slithering over each other until the screams stopped.

I closed my eyes, only to see the bodies of the two men from the Rummy game… the old woman crying as the collar ticked down… the businessman’s starched white collar. I opened them again.  

‘That was your fault.’ The teenage boy was visibly scared, his hands shaking. However, his eyes were filled with pure anger and they were focused purely on the driver.

‘Maybe,’ the driver said. ‘But one of us had to go first.’

Kuina rounded up on her. ‘One of us has to go next, too, and it’s going to be you.’

‘Don’t,’ I muttered to Kuina. ‘そんな価値はない.’ It’s not worth it.

She looked at me with sadness and fury. ‘Why not? She practically killed that girl.’

I couldn’t deny this, and part of me did want the driver to go next just so she could experience the same thing that she had put the other girl through. But arguing like this would only get us all killed.  

‘TEN MINUTES REMAINING.’

‘Actually, you know what,’ the driver said, ‘I’m not going to waste my time arguing with you. I will go next.’

The three of us stood back as the driver took off her shoes and stood up straight. She turned the pole horizontally and adjusted it between her hands until the weight was evenly distributed on both sides.

A balancing pole.

I almost wished I had thought of it, but then again, I didn’t trust my balance. Not with my life.

The driver stepped out onto the tightrope. She moved steadily, taking time to feel and test the wire beneath her feet. To my surprise, she was doing well, and she was now nearing the middle of the wire – the part where it was just ever so slightly more flexible. For a split second, I was rooting for her. I wanted her to succeed so we could all try it.

Then she took another step, and perhaps the rotation of her foot was slightly off, or maybe she hadn’t taken into account the flexibility in the middle.

Either way, the result was the same. Her body tilted, and the driver was whipped away, plunging into the pit below.

There was a rush of water and hisses as the crocodiles feasted.

I gulped, unable to bring myself to look down. ‘Kuina, what do we do?’

Her jaw clenched around the quit-smoking aide. ‘I’m not sure. Give me a minute.’

‘I’m not sure we have one,’ the teenage boy said, holding out his phone.

Only seven minutes left.

I glanced between the apparatus that we had left. A hoop… aerial silks… and a bungee cord.

Think, think, think…

My mind ran back over the rules. There might have been a clue somewhere in the wording. We had to cross the tightrope, and we were allowed equipment – that meant… it meant….

‘We don’t have to walk across it,’ I said.

Kuina blinked. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean we don’t have to walk across it. The rules just said we had to cross it. We could slide instead. If we tie ourselves to the wire for security, we could slide to the other side. Or maybe we could even crawl upside down, if that makes sense?’

Kuina mulled this over. ‘I get you. There’s a name for that, it’s called a monkey crawl.’

I stared at our collective equipment, before bending down over the edge to test the tension of the wire. It was thin, but with its metal casing, it was strong enough to hold us up. I gestured bungee cord. ‘You could tie yourself to it with that. I’ve got my silks.’

The teenage boy let out a sob. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve only got a hoop. I’m an idiot, I didn’t think.’

Kuina put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t cry,’ she said. ‘Here, you can use the bungee cord.’ Turning to me, she nodded at the silks in my hand. ‘Can you rip that in half?’

‘Of course.’ I got to work, using my teeth and hands to tear at the elasticated silks until the fabric ripped in two. ‘Who’s going first?’

Kuina stepped forward and took the quit-smoking aid out of her mouth, throwing it away. ‘I’ll do it.’

I gave her the split piece of silk. She placed her phone between her teeth and got to the floor, dangling her legs off the edge of the platform. I wanted to tell her to be careful, but hesitated. A distraction could cost her life.

Gently easing herself down, she steadied herself with one hand as she leaned forward. Then with the other, she slid the silk around her torso and tied it in a messy knot. It was loose enough that she could still move freely, but if she let go, it would hold her weight long enough for her to grab the wire again.

She swung her body around until she was hanging upside down, suspended by her ankles and hands. And with a wink in my direction, she began crawling across the wire.

She was fast. Faster than I’d ever be. But it worked, and before I knew it, she had reached the other side. I watched as she untied herself and climbed onto the other platform.

‘FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.’

I looked at the teenage boy in silent question.

‘You go first,’ he said. ‘I’m still a little nervous.’

I nodded, trying to smile reassuringly. ‘Okay.’

Following Kuina’s lead, I placed my phone in my mouth and slid onto the wire, using one hand to tie a knot around the wire and my torso. Adrenaline shot through me as I swung upside down. And wrapping my fingers and ankles around the wire, I crawled.

Just breathe and focus on the ceiling.

When the wire became slightly lax beneath my fingers, I knew that I was halfway there. Below me, I heard a splash and a hiss. My hands stilled. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I turned my head, looking down to the pit.

It was a mistake. It was a huge mistake. The water was red, their teeth were red. There was a stained red scrunchie floating on the surface.

I felt sick.

‘Stop staring and get the hell over here!’ Kuina’s voice sounded from the other side.

I snapped my head back, blinking away the image of the pit.

‘Don’t you want to thank Chishiya?’

I do. The taser and the note flashed through my mind. I really do.

Taking a deep breath, I crawled fast, faster than I thought I ever could. That was, until my head hit the platform on the other side.

‘Idiot,’ Kuina said, helping me upright. I untied myself from the wire and scrabbled onto the platform with shaking limbs. I did it. I was safe.

‘TWO MINUTES REMAINING.’

But he wasn’t.

Back on the other side, the teenage boy was doing the same thing as Kuina and I. His hands quivered as he struggled to tie the bungee cord around himself. Eventually he managed to use the hooks on the end to haphazardly secure it in place.

Then he began to crawl, just like we did, except slower. Because his legs and hands were trembling, he was having a hard time hooking his ankles over the wire.

‘You can do it!’ Kuina shouted. ‘You’re almost halfway!’

He slowly approached the middle. Tears slipped down his cheeks, dripping to the pit below.

‘ONE MINUTE REMAINING.’

The boy gasped and hooked a leg around the wire, just as his bungee cord came loose. He cried out, fists clenching white around the wire as he relied solely on his hands and ankles to support his weight.

The bungee cord hit the water with a snarl and a snap of teeth.

‘大丈夫,’ I called out. ‘遠くないよ.’ It’s okay, you’re not far.

He’s not listening, I thought, as I watched his face contort in fear. He’s too terrified.

‘30 SECONDS REMAINING.’

It was the wake-up call he needed, and that little chime shocked him into action as he continued clambering along the tightrope. His movements were even slower now that he didn’t have the bungee cord to support him, and he was crying harder. The sound echoed through the tent, causing the crocodiles to hiss.

‘20 SECONDS REMAINING.’

My fingers clenched and unclenched. He was almost there; he was almost safe. I held my breath. I didn’t want to see any more people die like this.

‘You’re going to be fine,’ Kuina called out. ‘You’re so close now.’

‘TEN SECONDS REMAINING.’

He was close, nearly enough to touch. I reached out a hand and Kuina did the same.

‘FIVE…’

He’s not going to make it.

My fingers brushed his t-shirt.

‘FOUR…’

We both grasped his shirt, trying to pull him upright over the wire.

‘THREE...’

He gritted his teeth, his lip dribbling with blood from where he’d bit it.

‘TWO...’

He dragged himself up, hands splayed on the edge of the platform. I pulled.

‘ONE...’

The wire fell away from the platform. There was a yelp as his fingers slipped off the edge. For the tiniest second his eyes met mine, innocent and wide with realisation.

‘NO!’

I grabbed his outstretched hand, feeling the weight of him pull me forward. Behind me, Kuina shouted my name. Her arms came to wrap around my waist, anchoring me to the platform.

The boy grasped my hand with both of his, and I pulled. I pulled as hard as I could, even as my shoulder felt like it was being yanked from its socket and the skin of my palms burned with the friction.

Kuina’s arms were like weights, dragging me back and giving me the leverage I needed to tug the boy up to the edge. He released one hand from mine and gripped the platform. Then Kuina extended hers, and together, we hauled him up to safety. We collapsed onto our backs, panting with the exertion.

‘GAME CLEAR – CONGRATULATIONS!’

[halcyonstorm]

my contest submission for LH drabble week! @levihan-drabbles

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë, Kuchel Ackerman Additional Tags: Sick Levi Ackerman, Leukemia, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Car Accidents, Doctor Hange Zoë, Angst, Slight OOC, sorry Series: Part 9 of Short Fics Summary:

Hange and Levi were separated for several years for reason they couldn't help. They finally found each other.

At just 18 years old, Levi received the worst news of his life. He was sick. Extremely sick. If someone even coughed or breathed on him, he could die. He had leukemia, a disease which attacks the body’s white blood cells. Our white blood cells are our guardians, protecting us from any infection that dares to enter. He had one friend he wanted to tell the most: his best friend Hange. She had been his friend since the beginning of high school. He didn’t like her at first, but she kept showing up, eager to be his friend. He eventually warmed up to her, allowing her to sit with him at lunch, hang out after class; soon, they were inseparable.

Levi’s heart was in his throat as he mentally prepared to present the life-changing news to his best friend. “Hange, I have to tell you something,” he said, his voice trembling. Hange looked at him funny. He never spoke in such a strange manner before. Hange hesitantly sat in front of him at the empty desk, turning around in the chair to face him.

“What is it?” She asked, concerned. She was starting to get nervous.

“I’m sick,” he began, almost inaudibly. “I have leukemia… I am gonna have to leave school to be in the hospital. I get so weak, and my immune system is absolute shit… I can’t even risk getting a cold, otherwise I can die.”

Hange’s heart sunk into her stomach. She took a deep breath and looked into her lap. She had to be strong for Levi, and she knew that. 

“I’ll be here with you. We can text, call, facetime…”

“Yeah, we can,” he replied.

“We will! I’m your friend,” Hange said, grabbing his hand. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you behind.”

-

At first, Levi thought he’d be strong enough to withstand the chemotherapy. That he’d be the rare case to have no side effects. Boy, was Levi wrong. After his first two weeks, his health was tanking. It tanked so bad, in fact, that no one was allowed in the room except the doctors and nurses. Hange was one of the only people to call him daily besides his mom. Hange would Facetime him after class, telling him all about her day. Levi never had much to share from his monotonous days of drug infusions and immobilizing fatigue, but he enjoyed listening to Hange’s voice. Over time, Hange began to notice her friend change: His skin became ghostly pale and his words were mumbled. She would show him the blooming flowers in the spring, the fallen leaves in the autumn, the snow in the winter. She would show him anything to distract him from the excruciating pain he suffered each day. 

After a year of chemotherapy treatments, the toxins started to take a toll on his body. He’d find clumps of black hair on his pillow every morning, until one night he insisted his mother shave it all off. Each clump of hair reminded him of the life he should’ve had. Going to class in-person instead of online for the rest of the semester, graduating through a computer screen. He fucking hated it. His physical and mental state began to worsen each week. He was like a walking corpse, sleeping about 16 hours each day. When he was awake, he was wishing he was asleep. Each day he withered away in the hospital bed. He would miss Hange’s calls frequently due to his concerningly deep slumbers. If he managed to pick up, he would fall asleep on the phone with her. Despite her busy school schedule, she found time to text him every day. That is what kept him going.

Every day turned into once a week, which turned into once a month, and soon not at all. He had officially lost touch with the only friend in his life. He felt it was his fault: he had no energy to ever respond to her texts. He couldn’t blame her. She did try. Alone in his hospital room staring at his old texts from her, his heart ached and tears spilled down his face.

Another year had passed when his doctor came into his shabby hospital room with a look of hope. Levi felt his heart begin to race. 

“Levi, we have some good news and some bad news,” He began, shutting the door behind him. He wore a bright yellow gown with a blue face mask and latex gloves. “The good news is, your white blood cell levels are elevated. This is an improvement compared to last month’s tests. Since they’re higher, you’re well enough to receive a bone marrow transfusion from your mother, who’s a perfect match. The bad news is, there are many risks to having this transfusion. Your body can reject the bone marrow, which may cause massive complications. However, I think it is best for you to get the transplant. It is your best hope for overcoming this disease.”

With no hesitation, Levi agreed. Let’s do this thing.

He tried to reach out to Hange to tell her the news, but after a week with no response, he was disheartened. A part of him hoped she would respond. He had his family, and for that he was forever grateful, but who would he have once he left the hospital? Who would he talk to? Who would he be? He completely lost the miniscule amount of social skills he had. He did make friends with some of the patients on his floor. Unfortunately, he outlived most of them. 

Fortunately for Levi, the transplant was a success. Within the next few months, he began to regain the color in his face, and hair started to sprout on his head again. He was sleeping less frequently, he was finally able to do a lap around the hospital floor without getting too tired. He was still on chemotherapy, but he was regaining his strength, and more importantly, he was getting his life back.

Levi was in (and rarely out of) the hospital almost four years. The day he was discharged for good was a beautiful spring day. The stale air became fresh as he exited the hospital in a wheelchair. He heard the bright green trees rustling and saw some beautiful pink flowers that reminded him of Hange. He took everything for granted until he was cooped up in a hospital room for years. He was grateful to Hange for being his eyes to the outside world. He felt a breeze run through his buzz cut. He took a deep breath, tears helplessly streaming down his face. He was finally free. 

It wasn’t long before Levi started searching for his long lost friend. He hated himself for forgetting how to spell her name. Was it Hanje, Hangi, or Hange? He couldn’t quite remember. He searched her name and was shocked to find out Hange was a medical student practicing at Shinganshina General Hospital. Shinganshina General wasn’t far, so she must still live in the area. He couldn’t, however, find any of her social media accounts. She was off-the-grid. Great… he thought. She was always difficult. He was one to talk, though. He hasn't used social media in years.

Throughout the summer, Levi was able to land a job as a mechanic and he worked endlessly. He had to repay the debt he placed his parents in. His mother especially hated the idea of him working just as he finished his treatments, but Levi was persistent. Eventually, he saved enough money to send monthly deposits to his mom and move out. He couldn’t have his mom taking care of him anymore after all she sacrificed for him. He had made enough money on his own to afford a cheap apartment two blocks away from her house. 

After getting settled, Levi told himself he couldn’t begin college without knowing about Hange’s whereabouts. He decided maybe if he drove to Shinganshina city, he would be able to find her somehow. Someone ought to know her… He got in his car one evening, punched in a diner’s address in Shinganshina, and started to drive. As he drove, he started to realize his plan was stupid. What, am I gonna stalk her at the hospital?

 After finishing a 10-hour shift at the shop, he impulsively drove past his block and hit the highway. The highways were ruthless that Friday night. He had never been to Shinganshina before on his own. He drove, hovering his head over the steering wheel with his elbows tightly tucked to his sides. The speed limit signs read “65 MPH''; however, everyone was quickly steering around him, going way over 75. He was very tempted to turn around in spite of his impetuous road trip; but he couldn’t find an opportunity to do so.

On the other side of the road, the two lines merged into one. One of the drivers did not recognize this, and suddenly swerved onto the other side of the road where Levi was driving. Perhaps if Levi didn’t work so hard that day, there was a slight chance it could’ve been avoidable. The last thing he saw were bright fluorescent headlights before he was knocked unconscious.

-

“We checked his driver’s license. His name is Levi Ackerman, age 22, victim of a head-on vehicle collision. He was wearing his seatbelt and had an airbag. He may have suffered a SCI and concussion. His heart and lung sounds are normal although his sternum and ribs may be broken,” A paramedic announced as they wheeled the unconscious man through the glass doors of the emergency room. 

“Get him up to imaging. We need to do a MRI, CAT scan, and x-ray STAT!” the doctor replied, taking her stethoscope to listen to his chest. She recognized the man right away but allowed her feelings to be suppressed for that crucial moment. Of course she recognized this man. He was her long lost friend, after all.

After finishing the tests, Levi was brought to a hospital room where he was changed into a hospital gown. Dr. Hange Zoe and Dr. Erwin Smith discussed the results: MRI showed signs of a concussion; CAT scan showed no signs of hemorrhaging; x-ray showed a cracked sternum and ribs 4 and 5 were broken. No signs of broken extremities, however he presented with ecchymosis on the bony prominences, such as his hips, knees, and collarbones.

As Levi awoke about two hours later, groaning loudly.

“My chest!” he complained, finding it hard to move. The two doctors turned around to find the patient had regained consciousness.

“Hello, Levi,” Dr. Smith began. “You were in a car accident. You’re at Shinganshina General Hospital. I am Dr. Erwin Smith, and this is my intern, Dr. Hange Zoe.” Levi’s eyes widened when he announced her name. 

“H-Hange…” he whispered, attempting to sit up but failing. Dr. Smith placed his hand gingerly on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to sit up. Just relax. How is your pain? We can give you some medication.”

“It’s fucking horrible. Please,” He whimpered, grimacing. Dr. Smith nodded, leaving the room. Hange immediately grabbed a chair, sitting next to her patient, but more importantly her friend.

“Levi, dammit what happened?” She said softly, looking at him. His face was not scratched, it was just the rest of his body that was injured.

“What happened to you?!” He retorted, looking her in the eyes. She could tell he was hurt, not just physically. “So much for not losing you...” 

“I was texting you as much as I could, Levi,” she explained, feeling guilty. “I had lost my phone and got a new one, but I couldn’t remember your number. I tried to find you online but I couldn’t… I am so sorry.” She hesitantly grabbed his hand. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he squeezed her hand.

“I was too sick to reply,” he said. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not-” A knock rang on the door and Hange stood up almost on cue. 

“On a scale of 0-10, 0 being no pain and 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt, how would you rate your pain?” She asked, switching the topic.

“A big fat 10,” he groaned. Dr. Smith wheeled in an electronic machine with a wire and handle attached.

“This is a patient-controlled analgesia pump. You can push it as many times as you’d like to help alleviate your pain. You will not overdose since it has a set amount of medication you can receive per hour. Also, we have some acetaminophen for you.” Levi downed the pills as soon as it was handed to him. Dr. Smith hooked the tubing up to his IV and handed him the button.

“Hange, gather your information on your patient and then meet with me in the conference room.” Dr. Smith left the room, Hange hesitantly looking at her friend again.

“Let me just do a quick physical assessment,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her pen light. As she did her assessment, he admired her. Being a doctor really did suit her. She was wearing a white lab coat with her name embroidered into it. As she would move his gown around to assess his heart and lung sounds, his breath hitched when he felt the tips of her fingers touch his bruised chest. He looked at her face as she worked. She simultaneously looked the same and different. Different in how she wore her hair, in the shape of her glasses, and she stood taller, more confidently. Same in her eyes never losing their sparkle, her focused pouty face, as well as her smile. That breathtaking smile never changed.

Once she finished, she cleaned off her materials and tucked them away.

“Levi, you’ll be kept at the hospital overnight to monitor your heart on the EKG. If you are able to walk in the morning, you will be discharged. Do you have anyone you can call?”

He thought of his mother. He thought of the burden he crushed her with. He decided to deal with this on his own.

“I live alone,” he replied, looking towards the foot of the bed.

“I can stay with you,” She offered instantly. Levi’s face flushed as he met her eyes. “I-I mean… if you want! You have a concussion. You can’t drive yourself or be left alone.”

“Isn’t that like… against the rules?”

“...I am not working tomorrow. I can pick you up and we’ll go from there. Since you won’t be in the hospital for long, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” The corners of Levi’s mouth curled upwards.

“That is fine with me. Let’s do it.”

The next day, Levi was able to do a lap around the hospital floor. He walked around with one of the nurses to make sure he didn’t collapse. He was ready to go home. Correction: He was ready to go home with Hange.

Hange went to his hospital room in her normal clothes. Her style changed. She used to wear baggy t-shirts and jeans. She looked more mature in her white button-up top and black slacks. He had to prevent his mouth from opening when he saw her. She was beautiful, but of course he would never mention it. Hange walked down to the entrance of the hospital with the nurse and Levi. She went to get her car. A few minutes later, she arrived in her dark red Honda.

“Levi, you just have to direct me to your house…” She began, tapping at the car’s GPS. He gave the address and she punched it in.

“Hange? Why are you doing this for me?” He asked, almost by accident. She shifted the car into Drive.

“I… never stopped thinking about you, you know,” She began, driving away from the hospital. “Even though we lost touch, I still hoped to meet you again someday. You are the reason I wanted to be a doctor… and whenever I lost hope, I thought of you. Whether you know it or not, you pushed me to keep going.” He looked at her blushing face.

He was shocked by what she said. He felt the same. “Me too,” he confessed, looking in his lap. “Your calls saved my life. You were the only one who stuck around. I will never forget that.”

He was never one to say what he meant, but knowing he had the courage to speak those words to her, Hange felt a strong urge to kiss his lips. She always had feelings for him. Her feelings never changed, despite their time apart. In fact, it only confirmed her feelings for him even more.

“Even before I was hospitalized, I took everything for granted…” Levi said. “I have been wanting to tell you something ever since my diagnosis…” Hange felt her heart skip a beat as he spoke. 

“Thank you for being there for me.”

At the red light, Hange looked at him and squeezed his hand firmly. She noticed his cheeks were dusted with a red blush. 

“I’ll always be here for you.” 

He met her eyes, those radiant hazel eyes. He took advantage of the long stoplight to kiss the woman’s lips. He couldn’t contain his feelings anymore. He swore he’d tell her how much he meant to him one of these days. And God, her lips were soft and velvety and everything he’d imagined they’d be, but ten times better. She was shocked at first, but kissed him back. His lips were a little chapped from his rough night, but they were warm. She dreamt of this moment for years (as did he). It was better than how she thought it’d be too. She was intrigued by the quiet boy in school ever since she met him. Maybe she thought he’d lack passion, but it was the opposite. The kiss was full of passion and relief; after years of being in love with each other from a distance, they melted into each other. Suddenly, there was a beep behind her; the light had turned green. Hange chuckled, starting to drive again.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

Dear Heart - Chapter 10

Dick Winters x Melanie Davis

Summary: Melanie Davis is a nurse from North Carolina who has lived a sheltered life since her father died. Her father’s best friend, Colonel Sink, invites her to experience more as a regimental nurse for the 506th PIR of the 101st Airborne. She embarks on the adventure of a lifetime.

Tag list: @thoughpoppiesblow​​​​ @primusk​​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: First of all, sorry this update took so long! I’ve got a new OC to introduce here and I wanted to get her right. I hope you guys enjoy Juliet as much as I do :) Thank you again to @mercurygray​​ for being a wonderful beta reader, as always <3 

Warning(s): None for this one :)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9

Chapter 10 here we go!!!

Haguenau, with its slushy streets and unpredictable explosions, was a welcome reprieve from the hellish woods of the Bois Jacques. The improvements were small, but they had roofs over their heads, food in their bellies, and rumor had it that later there would be showers. Unfortunately, danger still lingered close by - right across the river. 

Melanie slipped and slid all the way to the company CP to check on Lipton. She was keeping an eye on his pneumonia so he wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. Dick had objected to this at first, but she assured him she could manage. Lip was too valuable to leave the company now, and Dick couldn’t argue with that. 

When she arrived, she saw Webster - clean and fresh from the replacement depot. She nearly did a double take when she spotted him. Holland felt like years ago now. Though he looked much the same as he did then - a handsome young Harvard man. 

“Oh! Hello, David,” she said pleasantly. “Glad you could join us.”

“Thank you,” he returned earnestly, for he knew she was the only person who said that without any sarcasm behind it. “How are you, Melanie?” 

“Oh, just fine,” she said. “How’s the leg?”

“Good, thanks,” he replied. 

Melanie had tended to him herself. It was a flesh wound, so she didn’t need a doctor. Just disinfectant, stitches, and a bandage, and he was good as new. She offered to cover for him if he wanted to get back to the line, but he refused. Now that she had seen combat first hand, she couldn’t say she blamed him.

She turned her attention back to Lipton. “Now, Lip, can I ask you to set those papers down at least long enough for me to take your temperature?”  

Lip nodded and let the papers in his hand fall into his lap. Luz pulled up a chair for her. She thanked him and took a seat while the thermometer did its work. She leaned closer to feel Lip’s forehead, which was still burning up. 

The temperature climbed and she frowned. “Still a fever. How’s the cough?”

“It’s okay,” he said, but then lost himself in another fit.

While she waited, another new face entered the room. A lieutenant she did not recognize. He introduced himself as Jones, and explained he was looking for Captain Speirs. As if summoned by the mention of him, the new Easy CO appeared. Melanie wasn’t quite sure how she felt about Speirs yet. There was no denying he was successful, but there was something frightening about him. He was so...intense. And she’d heard the rumors about what he did on D-Day, though she didn’t know if she believed them. Even having spent more time around him, she couldn’t make up her mind about whether he was capable of it or not. 

Lip began to introduce Jones, but Speirs cut across him. “Listen, for Christ’s sakes, will you go back in the back and sack out? Lieutenant, tell him he needs to be in bed.”

One thing Melanie appreciated about Speirs was his indifference to her presence in regard to her gender. Ever the practical leader, he seemed to just appreciate that she was there. Man or woman, if there was help, he took it. She did wish he would call her Melanie, but that sort of familiarity took time. 

“I can’t order him around, Captain, but I do agree with you,” she said, casting a stern look at Lip. 

“I will, sir,” Lip said to Speirs. “I was just trying to make myself useful, sir.”

“You can do that by listening to the nurse,” Speirs replied.

“And you won’t be useful to anybody unless you get better,” she added. “Do try and get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said tiredly. 

“Very good,” she said, patting his arm. “I’ll come back by and check on you later.” 

With Lip seen to, Melanie headed back to her billet. Now that they weren’t cut off, she had a stack of letters from her mother to sort through. She had only made it through about half of them so far, and though their contents steered more and more toward questions about her and Dick, she was eager to hear the news from home. She also had a few letters from her friend Rose, so when her mother’s letters got to be too much, she had something to fall back on. 

When the first letter from her unread stack from Lilian began with a question about Dick and his intentions, Melanie gave up. She could never make her mother understand what was between her and Dick, and so there was no use trying to explain it. She picked up Rose’s letter and began to read. She made a face at its contents. 

“Bad news?”

Melanie looked up to see Dick in the doorway. For a fleeting second, she took absurd notice of the bit of scruff on his face and admired it. He looked rather devil-may-care. So much so that for a moment she forgot her distress entirely. She shook her head to clear it, set the letter down, and nodded sadly. 

“I’m afraid so,” she said. “My friend, Rose...her husband is missing somewhere in the Pacific.” 

“This is your high school friend?” he asked. 

Melanie so rarely spoke about her loved ones back home, but she had mentioned Rose more than once. Rose was married to Patrick, a Marine. They had a little boy, Jonathan, and Melanie was his godmother. She nodded again.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, how awful…Poor Rose…”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Dick said, trying to sound convincing. “Could be captured.” That was certainly wishful thinking. He’d heard that the Japanese rarely, if ever, took prisoners. But he wouldn’t poison Melanie’s mind with that information.

She didn’t reply for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the letter, deep in thought. Then she sat back against her chair and sighed. Almost dreamily. His brow furrowed as he watched her. She turned her face to look out the window, and the light illuminated the bruises that still faintly clung to her skin. 

“This might sound like a horrible thing to say,” she said. "But you know, I sort of envy her. Husband, baby. Everything is...decided, it’s there. I know deep down that it worries her, having Patrick gone, but I...I envy that she had those things to lose." She looked at Dick. "Does that make sense?"

He knew exactly what she meant. Dick listened to the way some of the other men talked about their wives, and he did sometimes feel a little jealous that they had someone who was so counting on their return. True, it made the stakes higher - his frequent reasoning for not admitting his feelings to Melanie - but there was a certain beauty about that risk. 

“It makes sense,” he told her. “And I think it’s only human. She may envy you that you get to be part of the action, while she has to stay behind. Or that you don’t have something so heavy to worry about.”

Melanie considered arguing this. If anything happened to Dick, she’d be devastated. But of course, that was not something she could say. And besides, he was not her husband. Losing him would not put her in the same position as Rose socially. She would only have comparable heartbreak. She decided to change the subject, distraught at the very idea. 

“Did you need something?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. “There’s a patrol tonight. Sink wants you and Roe on standby in case of any casualties.”

“A patrol?” she questioned. 

He nodded, his own displeasure at the idea clear in the slight downturn of his mouth. She wished there was something she could say to comfort him, but unfortunately, they both knew it was no good. 

He explained the basics. Fifteen men from Easy Company would cross the river and try to capture a few Germans they knew to be residing in one of the buildings near the shore. Hopefully, they would have information to help the Allies push further into Germany. Melanie didn’t think the risk was worth it, but she didn’t have to say so. She knew Dick felt the same. But orders were orders. 

“Alright, I’ll try and have some things prepared,” she said with a sigh. If she had time, she might have gone to Colonel Sink to ask him about this patrol and if it was really necessary, but it seemed decided. “Would you like me to come to the briefing?” 

“Up to you,” he said. “I was just going to tell you to get some sleep while you can. Patrol sets off at 0100 hours.” 

She expected him to go then, but he lingered, looking at her as if there was something on the tip of his tongue. She searched his face for what it might be. 

“Is there anything else, Dick?” she asked.

There was, but he wouldn’t say it. Truthfully, he felt he related to Rose. After almost losing Melanie to a crumbling building, and wondering what she’d been through before those five days in the woods (which he still wondered), fearing that whatever it was had cost him his closeness to her, he realized he had done a lot more worrying about her lately. He was at the relative safety of battalion, while she had taken a position much closer to danger. The tables had certainly turned since D-Day. 

He shook his head. “No, that’s it. Get some rest. I’ll see you later.”

He turned to leave, but was blocked by the appearance of a striking blonde woman. He stopped just before colliding with her, his surprise evident on his face.

“Crikey, sorry!” she gasped. She was English, based on the accent. “My fault!”

Melanie’s brow furrowed with confusion as Dick shuffled out of the way of the newcomer and her face came into view. She was beautiful with thick, wavy blonde hair, eyes the color of rain, and an enchanting smile. She clearly wasn’t military since she was in civilian clothes. Her presence was all charm and warmth, from the second she entered the room. 

“Juliet Fletcher,” she said, extending her hand. “You’ll have to excuse the sweat, I walked all the way through town. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to get a cab out here.” 

Melanie and Dick both chuckled and shook the woman’s hand. “I’m Melanie Davis, and this is Captain Dick Winters.”

“I see I’ve made it to the right place,” Juliet said. “I’m a reporter with the London Pursuit, and Colonel Sink said I can bunk with you while I cover the regiment.”

Melanie blinked, surprised by Colonel Sink allowing a war correspondent - especially one who was both female and English.  

“Most of my colleagues went to cover our own lads, but I thought I’d see what the Yanks are up to,” Juliet continued. “I hate to be unoriginal.”

Melanie and Dick exchanged an amused glance as Juliet stepped further into the room and set her bags down. 

“I promise you’ll be glad of the company,” she said. 

“Why do you say that?” Melanie asked, curious. 

“Well, there can’t be too many other women out here,” Juliet said. “With all the whistles I got on my way here, I’m quite certain we stand out.”

Melanie smiled again, feeling seen. Though the men knew better than to whistle at her. She thought it was out of respect for Colonel Sink, but really most of the men understood Melanie to be Dick’s girl, whether Dick and Melanie were aware of it or not. 

“I’ll let you get settled,” Dick said, then he turned to put his hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

“Of course,” Melanie replied, her gaze lingering on him just a moment longer. Her eyes flicked down to the stubble on his chin again for one last look at it. 

“Nice to meet you, Juliet,” he said, and then he was gone. 

Juliet glanced between where Dick disappeared and Melanie’s face. “You two seem rather smitten, is he your boyfriend?”

Melanie flushed. “Oh, no, nothing like that.”

“Would you like him to be?” Juliet asked. 

The pink in Melanie’s cheeks deepened. “Well - I mean, I care for him, but -”

“What’s the matter?” Juliet pressed. “Family doesn’t approve?”

“We’ve never met each other’s families, so -”

“Oh, is he married?”

“No, he’s -”

Juliet’s nose wrinkled as she interrupted again. “Does he want you to do unusual things in the bedroom?”

The color drained from Melanie’s face and her eyes went wide as an owl’s. “No!”

“These are just routine questions,” Juliet said. 

“Are they?” Melanie wondered, shocked. 

“Of course,” Juliet answered, appearing completely earnest. Until she burst out laughing, which put Melanie at ease. “I’m joking, Melanie. We only just met, I’d never ask what your boyfriend likes in the bedroom. Unless of course you need to talk about it, in which case, I’m all ears.” 

Melanie blinked. She hadn’t met many reporters so she wondered if they were all as fast-paced as Juliet, whose mind seemed to run a hundred miles a second. She felt like she should be offended by the remarks, but she wasn’t. She found it all a bit silly. Which she appreciated after the news from Rose and the impending patrol. Juliet was like sunshine in this bleak and gray winter. She retrieved a cigarette from the box in her pocket, struck a match, and lit it, taking a long drag, and looking very graceful in Melanie’s opinion. 

“Dick and I are strictly platonic,” she said. “But I appreciate the offer for a confidant.” 

“Anytime,” Juliet said with a puff of smoke around the word. “I hope we can be friends.”

“Me too,” Melanie agreed. 

“Seriously, I don’t have any friends,” Juliet said. “People hate reporters.”

Melanie softened. Juliet was not teasing now, she was being honest. Melanie saw it in her eyes, the loneliness.

“I assure you, I have no such prejudice,” Melanie said. “Now, what can I do to help you settle in?”

Juliet had packed light, which was to be expected. But she had brought along her typewriter, which Melanie was surprised Juliet was able to carry at all. It was heavier than lead, and would have had Melanie tipping over if she tried to travel with it. As they got Juliet set up, they got to know each other more. Melanie did enjoy being in the company of a woman again, and the friendship she felt reminded her of her time with Renee and Anna, who she missed a great deal. Juliet explained that she had met some of the 101st before while they were in Aldbourne, which was part of what drew her to covering their unit now. 

“You didn’t make any friends?” Melanie asked. “I’ve found our boys to be rather friendly, especially with beautiful women.”

Juliet smiled. “Oh, they were perfectly kind. But it is hard to keep up once they’ve shipped out.”

“I understand,” Melanie said. “Why, my friend back home - her husband is in the Pacific and she gets so impatient for his letters. Of course now, he…” she trailed off, reminded once more of Patrick’s danger and Rose’s heartache. 

“Was he killed?” Juliet asked. 

Melanie shook her head. “Missing.”

“Crikey, I don’t know which is worse,” Juliet said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s not the only bad news,” Melanie confessed, and explained about the patrol. Juliet listened carefully, brow knitting over her eyes as she took it in. 

“It’s quite risky,” she remarked. “From what I’ve read, the war’s supposedly almost over.”

Melanie bit back a scoff. “Not quite. I wish it were, though. These men have been through enough.”

“You have too, I expect,” Juliet said. “Were you with them in Bastogne?”

“I was for the last week or so,” Melanie told her. “And I barely made it through that little.”

Melanie shuddered to recall those days. Not only because of the grueling nature of the battle, but also her distance from Dick. Things were beginning to get back to normal between them, but she could feel that he was still curious. She appreciated that he wouldn’t push her, but it made her feel guilty to keep something from him. 

“I’d love to get your story, if you’re up to sharing,” Juliet said. “I’m sure you’ve got a unique perspective.”

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not,” Melanie told her. “If anyone’s voice deserves to be heard, it’s the men who were out there for weeks.”

Juliet shrugged. “I understand. I hope you know your voice matters too, though.” When Melanie didn’t reply, she continued. “Besides, I’m more interested in this patrol you mentioned. D’you think I’d be allowed at the briefing at least?”

Melanie pondered this, grateful for the change of subject. “We can certainly ask Dick. Or Easy’s CO, since that company will be executing the operation.”

“Great! When can I meet him?” Juliet wondered. 

Melanie admired Juliet’s eagerness. “I’ll be going by the company CP this afternoon to check up on Sergeant Lipton. Come with me, and I’m sure we can find out.”

“Perfect!”

The girls set out for something to eat. And Juliet was constantly making Melanie laugh. Not because Juliet was necessarily trying to be funny, but her remarks were unusual and amusing. Melanie felt like she’d been sent a sweet blessing - she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much. This winter had been the hardest of her life, and not only because of the weather. So much had happened to her. But now she felt like spring was right around the corner. 

Neither Dick nor Speirs were at the CP when Melanie and Juliet stopped by, and Lipton was about the same as far as his illness went. Melanie introduced her new friend, and Lip was welcoming to her. Melanie once again stressed his need for rest, and he promised her he would sleep within the hour. 

“I think Winters and Speirs are out by the river,” he told them. “They’re checking things out for the patrol.”

“Thank you, Lip,” Melanie replied. “We’ll go find them.”

She turned to go, but quickly realized that Juliet was not following her. The reporter was glued to her spot, and some of the color had drained from her face. She looked...rather frightened. 

“Did you say...Speirs?” she asked Lipton. 

He nodded. “Yeah. Captain Speirs has been our CO since Foy.”

She swallowed. Melanie’s brow furrowed. She guessed that perhaps Speirs was one of the people from the regiment Juliet met in Aldbourne, but judging by her face, it would not be a glad reunion. Juliet looked as if she were braced for impact. Melanie grew concerned. 

“I understand if you’re a little afraid of Speirs,” she said. “He’s -”

“Hey, I ain’t afraid of nothin’ except spiders, which is completely normal,” Juliet interjected, somehow both defensive and joking. She took a breath. “Okay...okay, you may see some things…”

Melanie immediately formed a hundred questions about that, but Juliet marched out of the building and into the street. Evidently, there would be no explanation of what Melanie might see upon finding Speirs. Melanie eagerly followed Juliet outside. She tried to strike up conversation again, but Juliet remained silent. Her eyes looked straight ahead, and yet, they were unfocused. Melanie gave up trying to talk before they finally reached the river bank, where Dick did in fact stand with Speirs, looking out at the water and the enemy on the other side. Melanie cleared her throat, and both men turned their heads. 

As soon as Speirs’ eyes landed on Juliet, the already thin air suddenly became colder and sparser. Melanie cast Dick a sideways glance and saw on his face that he felt it too. The tension was like a dam about to break. Juliet shifted uncomfortably under Speirs’ icy glare. 

“Hi, Ron,” she said quietly. “You look - you look good. I know you probably don’t think so, since - well, you know. Not that you were ever terribly concerned about things like that - I mean, that’s not to say you aren’t nice looking - I was just - you know what? I’m gonna stop now. You look well. War suits you.”

Juliet bit her lip, clearly regretting the last remark, but she didn’t try to correct herself again. Speirs did not reply. He only stared at her, his gaze alone seeming to order her away. Melanie stepped closer to Dick, for a shiver had gone up her spine. Beats passed in strained silence. 

“I wrote to you,” Juliet went on. “Several letters. Did you -”

“I didn’t read them,” he cut across her. His tone and expression were alarmingly blank.

She swallowed the sting of it. “That’s alright. I understand completely.” He continued to look at her in stony silence so she changed the subject again. “So, you’re a captain, now, are you? That’s nice! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he said hollowly. 

“You deserve it,” she said. “Really.”

Speirs did not answer that. He only scowled.

Dick leaned over to whisper in Melanie’s ear. “What is going on?”

“No idea,” she breathed back. “They’ve got some sort of history, but I don’t know what.” 

Dick only nodded and looked back at Juliet, who was becoming more and more despondent by the second. He decided to rescue her. 

“Did you two need something?” he asked, so the group could hear. 

“Juliet was wondering if she could be present at the briefing in order to cover the patrol tonight,” Melanie said, eyes darting between Speirs and Dick. 

“No,” Speirs said shortly. 

“Please don’t make this personal, Ron,” Juliet sighed. “My editor is really counting on me getting a story out here, and -”

“Well, she fucked up, Jules, she trusted you!” he snapped. 

Juliet blinked, taken aback and wounded by the biting reply. Melanie got the distinct feeling Speirs was not talking about the story when it came to a breach of trust. Her mind was swirling with questions now. How did Juliet and Speirs know each other? What had happened to make him hate her so much? And could it be fixed?

Speirs took a deep breath and let it go slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he exhaled. He looked at Juliet again. “Your mother, is she feeling alright?”

“Mhm,” Juliet said with a nod. “Yeah, much better.”

“Good,” he replied. 

With that, he walked off. Melanie was completely bewildered. Speirs seemed like he was about ready to spit at Juliet, but then he asked about her mother? It was all so odd and complex. Dick watched Speirs’ disappearing form. 

Melanie had a horrifying thought as she watched Speirs depart and Juliet’s expression sink. When two people miscommunicated, and things shifted between them, the relationship could easily come to a devastating and tragic end. Melanie examined the change in her and Dick’s relationship since Terry assaulted her. If she couldn’t find the courage to share with him, would they become like Juliet and Speirs? All hurt feelings and unsaid intentions? What would happen to them if she gave into her fears and didn’t trust him with her heart?

[prolestariwrites]

The Wish [8]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

Now Posted: Chapter 8, in which Dante has to face the most intimidating creature of all... his wife.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Chapter 8: Dante Sparda, Legendary Demon Hunter

Dante pulls up outside of Vergil’s house and turns off the car. They sit in silence for a long moment before he says, “Thanks again for what you did back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

His brother’s voice shakes a bit, but it seems like he’s holding onto control, even if it’s barely. Which is something at least. “It’s funny,” Dante jokes, “you’ve used Summoned Swords on me half a dozen times at least, and this might be the first time you used it to save me.”

“Summoned Swords,” Vergil murmurs. “Is that what that’s called?”

“It’s what you called it in my world. Although it’s a bit different there.”

Vergil nods, and silence settles again. Dante scratches his chin as he searches for what to say. “You know, Nero can do it too. Surprised the hell out of me the first time I saw it.”

“Nero.” Vergil turns his face to the window. “I should get inside.”

“Yeah. But, Verge…” Dante sighs as Vergil looks back at him. It is obvious his brother needs him now: he needs comfort, reassurance, something to help him process everything and come to terms with the truth. He needs wisdom. He needs tact and compassion.

Damn it all. “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Dante says. “Then we’ll look for dad.”

“Yeah.”

Vergil reaches for the car door and Dante blurts out, “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll find him. And if any demons show up, you can use Yamato. You’re a better fighter than I am, so you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not a swordsman, Dante,” he grumbles. “I haven’t fought with anyone since we were children.”

“But you can. And Mary can too. She’s a way more successful demon hunter than I am.” Vergil frowns at him, but Dante continues, encouraged, “She kicked both our asses. She’s always got some demon on the run, knows how to use dozens of weapons and make her own even. And Nero? He’s got all kinds of crazy power. He was demon hunting before he even knew how.”

“Nero’s just a child.”

“Yeah, here he is, but in my time, he’s older, and I’ve seen him in action. Took down a whole evil god robot once.” Vergil huffs and shakes his head as Dante leans his elbow on the steering wheel. “I’m just saying, you don’t have to worry. You didn’t think you could fight but then you skewered that guy. So trust that they can handle themselves. And your V, Vitale? He’s not… I don’t know him, he’s not from where I’m from, but if he’s anything like you, then he’s got this too.”

Vergil glances at him briefly before nodding. Then he opens the car door and climbs out, and Dante watches as he hurries up the driveway to his front door, still clutching the sword.

Dante heaves a long sigh before starting the car again. On the drive to home, he wonders what he’s going to do about Lir. He’s still not entirely sure she’s not a demon too, so if he comes clean with her, there’s no telling she won’t attack him just like the bar waitress.

His questions are answered when he walks in the front door. “Dante? Dante!” Lir practically runs to greet him from the kitchen. “There you are! What happened? Are you okay?”

Before he can answer she pulls him into a hug, forcing him to bend over so she can press her cheek to his. “Dante,” she murmurs, and he feels a pang of guilt as he returns the hug. “I was so worried.”

“I’m okay.” He eases up and pushes her hair back from her face. “Why were you worried?”

“Your mom called all frantic. She said your father ran off and broke a window and in his study… there was…” Lir’s voice trails away as she examines his front, and Dante glances down. There are splatters of blood on his jacket and shirt, and he steps back as she gapes. “She said there was blood on the floor. What happened?”

Her eyes are wide with alarm as they rise to meet his. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll explain.”

Dante eases past her and heads to the kitchen. Lir follows, hanging back in the doorway as he moves to the sink. He uses the minute to think as he runs his hands under the hot water, taking a few pumps of dish soap to clean the blood away. He shuts off the faucet and grabs a dish towel, drying them as he turns to face her.

He leans against the kitchen counter and swallows thickly. “Mom was upset, huh?”

“Very.” Lir takes a step closer before hesitating. “What happened?”

“We… fought. It’s fine,” he says hurriedly, holding up a palm as she opens her mouth. “My dad’s been keeping secrets and I confronted him. It didn’t go well.”

“Secrets?” she asks. “What kind of secrets?”

Dante folds his arms with a sigh. “He’s not who he says he is. He’s… something else.”

“Something else? What does that mean?”

“It means he’s not human.”

He waits for a long moment to let the news absorb. Lir stares at him with wide eyes, and he notices how her fingers tremble as she reaches out to brace against one of the chairs at the little breakfast table. “He’s not human,” she murmurs.

Dante nods and she tilts her head towards him. “And the blood?”

He glances down at his soiled shirt. “That was my mistake. Dad was lying and I wanted him to tell Vergil the truth. So I stabbed him with a sword.”

“You stabbed him?”

“Yeah. He was fine though. Got right up.” Dante chuckles. “Shoulda seen the look on his face. Serves the old man right. He kept refusing to come clean, and I—”

“Dante.” His mouth snaps shut as she sinks into the chair, looking pale. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“If it makes you feel any better, this isn’t all his blood.” Lir looks up sharply as he spreads his arms. “Vergil and I got a drink afterwards and got attacked by a couple of demons in the bar. Had to kill a waitress and all I had was a chair leg, if you can believe it. Luckily Vergil came through. Wasn’t that bad, he killed the bartender.”

“You killed a waitress?”

Dante winces. “Okay, it sounds really bad when you say it like that. But they were demons, I swear.” He starts to walk towards her, and Lir scrambles up, pressing back against the wall. The fear on her face makes him freeze, and he watches as her eyes start to tear up. “Hey, relax. Really. It’s gonna be fine.”

He takes another step and Lir launches herself across the kitchen, diving for the knife block. She pulls a long bread knife from its slot and spins, holding it out like a magic wand as if to ward him off. “Don’t come any closer!” she shrieks.

“Okay. Obviously I’m telling this story wrong.” Dante holds up his palms. “I’m not gonna hurt you. See?”

“You’re crazy!” she cries. “Demons? Killing?” He rolls his eyes and she shakes her head furiously. “Stay away from me!”

She steps to the side, keeping pressed against the counter, as she fishes her cell phone from her pocket. Dante frowns as she swipes it on. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling the police.”

Her voice has an edge now, and Dante can see she’s a dangerous mixture of frightened and furious. “I’ll just go,” he suggests.

Lir shoots him a look to kill as she raises the phone to her ear. “Hello? Yes? Yes, I need the police, my husband—”

As she speaks, something catches Dante’s attention, like a pinprick on his neck. His head turns just as the ceiling explodes in a shower of drywall, the window shattering as something breaks through. Lir screams and he sees her drop the phone in the corner of his eye, and Dante steps between her and the two demons that now stand towering in their kitchen.

He looks up at the hole in the ceiling and grits his teeth when he sees the sky. “We have a fucking door you know,” he growls.

“Dante!”

Lir’s voice is wild with panic, and he holds out a hand. He curses silently, knowing her being here is going to just make this harder. It’s bad enough to fight a demon when a human is around, but now his instinct to protect her is screaming loud enough in his head to drown out any reason. He’s got to get her safe, and then he can deal with them.

“Lir, I want you to run.”

“What?”

“Get to the front door and run. Now!”

He doesn’t know if she obeys because at that moment they advance. Once again he tries to summon Rebellion, and again he realizes he’s left it in the damn car. Two sets of teeth and four sets of claws come for him with a screech, and then Dante is dodging, throwing one punch after another as he tries to make a plan. One of the demons picks up the toaster and throws it at him, making him duck. It sails over his head and implants into the wall behind him. “What the hell!”

One of the demons grabs his leg, pulling him to the ground. Dante lurches to the counter as he falls and grabs a drawer, yanking it free with one pull. He prays it has something he can use, but inside are dish towels. “Damn it,” he mutters, but he swings the drawer, which breaks with a spray of splinters as it hits one demon full on the face. It falls back and lets his leg go, and Dante scrambles to his feet, pulling open another cabinet.

This one has plates at least, so he grabs the stack and throws them one by one at the other demon. They explode in its face, the porcelain shattering loudly as it falls in pieces to the floor, but they disorient it enough that Dante can deliver a kick that sends it sailing across the kitchen. Before the two demons can recover, he lunges at the knife block, and with a steak knife in each hand, he quickly dispatches them both, slitting their heads open, both collapsing in a pool of dark blood.

Dante catches his breath and drops the two knives in the sink. When he turns, he finds Lir on the ground, her knees drawn up as she gapes at him.

“Lir…” he murmurs with a wince. They stare at each other for a long moment, and he takes in the pieces of drywall stuck in her hair, the way her shoulders shake, the bright flush on her face. But she’s alive, that’s all that matters. The rest of this shit he can explain, and fix, and make up to her.

Just then, there is the sound of someone talking, and they both look down at the phone on the ground. It looks like it takes a half minute for her to remember what it is, but then she jerks it up to her ear. “Hello? Hello, yes I’m here. No, no, everything’s fine.” Her eyes are wide as they take in the mess now that it’s settled, but her voice is steady. “I thought my husband was hurt, but he’s fine. A cabinet fell over in the kitchen, that was all the commotion. I’m so sorry.” She listens for a moment and then says, “Really, it’s not necessary. We’re fine.”

Dante takes a deep breath as she finishes the call, looking out the hole in the wall where the window used to be. He scans the darkness for any more demons, but his senses don’t pick anything else up. Lir says goodbye, and he glances over as she presses a finger to the screen before slowly setting the phone on the ground.

Their gazes connect, and he feels a twist in his chest as he sees tears swimming in her eyes. But then Lir scrambles towards him, and he catches her in a tight hug, her face pressed to his neck. Dante gives a small smile as he holds her closely, rubbing a soothing hand on her back as her breath shakes against his skin.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“So that’s everything.” Dante looks over at the passenger side, where Lir stares straight ahead. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Her eyes fall to where her hands sit in her lap. “So you’re not Dante? My husband?”

“I guess not,” he replies. “I mean, I’m Dante, but I don’t know if I’m him or if he’s me or if…” He rubs his face and glances at the clock on the dashboard which shows it’s nearly midnight. The gas station they had pulled into is deserted, and the light from the shelters over the pumps gives enough light that he can see the pained expression on her face. “Sorry. I keep saying the wrong thing. And uh, I guess I should apologize… for the other night—”

“No, it’s…” She glances over, almost shyly, and Dante’s heart skips a beat. “You’re still him, just not him him. I think.”

“Right.” He chuckles humorlessly with a half smile. “You hungry?”

Lir shakes her head. “Not really. I’m exhausted.”

“Let’s get some rest then.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, heading down the nearly empty street. After a few turns he finds a little motel, and Lir luckily doesn’t argue when he parks. She stops to grab the bag she had packed in haste before they fled the house as he heads into the office, emerging a minute later with a room key. “Funny, the guy didn’t blink twice even though I’m a mess,” he jokes.

Dante grabs Rebellion from the trunk, remembering this time, before he leads her to room six.  But he hesitates when he slides the key into the lock. “I guess I should have gotten two rooms?” he murmurs.

“No. I don’t want to be alone.” She presses her hand on his back lightly. “It’s fine.”

He nods as they enter, flicking on the lights as Lir follows inside. There is a Queen-sized bed in the middle, a television, a chair and table, and Lir shrugs off her jacket before opening the bag. She pulls out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, holding them out to him. “Do you want to get cleaned up?”

“Yeah.” Lir doesn’t look up at him as he takes the clothes, and not knowing what else to say, he heads into the bathroom.

His reflection is a mess, his hair sticky strands covered in blood and dirt. His face and neck aren’t much better, and as he strips off his clothes, he thinks about what he must have looked like arriving home like that. “This is why I never got married,” he mutters to himself as he turns on the faucet. “Too much trouble.”

His dialogue continues as he starts the shower and unwraps the little bar of free soap, listing the reasons why a relationship and marriage don’t mix with demon hunting: too much blood. Too much laundry. Too many questions. Weapons. Blood. Death.

He leans his forearm on the tile, watching as red swirls around the drain until the water goes clear. Stupid fucking wish, he thinks. This life he had always wanted? It’s not possible, and he needs to accept that and move on. He had no idea what he was asking for, Dante realizes.

It makes sense, really, he tells himself as he towels off. After all, Lady didn’t have anybody. Neither did Trish. Whoever Nero’s mother was, it couldn’t have lasted long before Vergil was gone, if his brother even knew he had a kid in the first place. Too much liability when you have someone in your life. He remembers Lir’s scream as the demons crashed into their home, the way the fear hit in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. But Nero has managed it, hasn’t he? He has Kyrie, and goes home to her every night, blood and guts and all. Dante frowns, wondering if it’s not meant to last. It would kill the kid to lose her.

Sparda, Vergil, him, now Nero… their whole family, one after another, losing someone close before disappearing too. Like some big cosmic joke.

Lir is curled up on the pillows, the lights off and the television on. She pulls back the covers when he climbs up to join her, and Dante smiles a bit when she repositions herself with her head on his chest and her arms tightly wrapped around him. “This okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Dante snorts. “Nah. It’s a crazy story, I know.”

“I pulled a knife on you.”

“Not the first time someone’s done that.”

Lir stiffens a bit before lifting her head. She looks at him sadly, but he grins. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You didn’t tell me who I am,” she says.

Dante glances away with a shrug. “I don’t know you in my time. We never met.”

“Oh.” She lays her head back down against his shoulder, and Dante settles his hand on her hip. “I’m glad we got to meet here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Dante listens as Lir’s breathing goes steady, her body sinking against him as she falls asleep. He stays awake, watching the light behind the curtain grow darker before slowly turning gray. By the time the sun comes up, his decision is made.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch19: Unfair Comparison

Chapter Summary: Fliss is not a happy bunny when she realises Frank hasn’t dumped the card.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW, NO UNDER 18s!)

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

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

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 18

  “What an ass hole." Greg shook his head, tossing the card onto the coffee table. "Tell me about it." Frank sighed as he ran his hand through his hair and leaned back heavily against the cushions of Greg's sofa. "I just..." "I know pal." Greg soothed him, "Technically you’re right, he has breached his parole. So Fliss would be perfectly within her tights to call the police. However, he’s gonna deny it, there’ll be an investigation…you’re back into statements possibly court again...all it needs is one member of a jury, if it even goes that far to doubt he sent it and..." "So I'm just supposed to sit back and let it lie?" Frank looked at Greg, almost pleading with the man to give him some kind of advice he could use. "In a word yes." Greg shrugged "and not least because that's what Fliss asked you to."

“I’m worried Greg.” Frank shook his head “Yes, it’s just a card but it proves he knows where she is…” “Not hard, her business has a website.” “Yes, I know that…” Frank started but Greg cut him off. “Frank, he can’t come out of Massachusetts. He cannot physically set foot outside of that state without his GPS tag tipping the police off.”

 Frank bit the inside of his cheek, his jaw twitching.

 “Look, buddy, I get it.” Greg continued, his tone soft “I really do…it’s shit. But for now the best thing for you to do is listen to Fliss.”

 “This is bullshit.”

“Tell you what. I’ll keep the card. If she gets any more stuff from him then we can build a portfolio and send it to the police. It’s more likely to come to something if we have more incidents.”

“So basically, we just have to wait until he sends her more crap and then we might, or might not be able to do anything?” “I’m sorry pal.” Greg shrugged.

“It’s not your fault.” Frank sighed, shrugging. “Sorry I snapped. I appreciate the advice.”

 “I wish I could be a little more positive.”

 “Don’t we all?” Frank said, slapping his thighs with his hands “I best get off, got stuff to do this afternoon.” Greg eyed him for a moment as he stood up, before he rose from his seat to see Frank out of the villa.

 “Just be there for Fliss ok?” he said as they walked to the door “Frank, if she’s asking you to do something, unless it’s really dumb then do it. Give her the control, yeah?” Frank merely nodded and then climbed into his truck, still as pissed off as he had been when he had arrived. He reached for his shades, slipped them on and headed down to the marina. He spent the afternoon cleaning the boat. And whilst it didn’t take him long as they hadn’t taken an awful lot with them, he decided to give the entire thing a good wash down and polish inside, more to keep him occupied. Paul arrived at just gone 3 pm, and was over the moon with the fact his boat had come back to him in a better condition than it had gone out in…making a quip that Frank could borrow it whenever the hell he wanted if it meant service like that.

He was just heading back to his truck when Fliss called him.

 “How are my girls?” he asked and she chuckled slightly. 

“Good, we’re done now so be heading home soon. What do you fancy for dinner? Anything in particular?” “I’ll swing by the store, pick up a few steaks and we can grill.” Frank said, climbing into the truck “And a bottle of Rioja?” “Perfect. Did you get rid of that card?” Frank hesitated for a second. “I took care of it.”

 “Frank?”  her voice had grew a little sterner. “What does that mean? What did you do?” “I took it to Greg.” he grimaced as she made an angry noise on the other side of the phone.

 “Damnit Frank, I asked you to get rid of it…” “I just wanted some advice. Thought I’d see what Greg made of it and-“

“You had no right to do that…” her voice was angry “That wasn’t your decision to make…” “Lissy…” he sighed “Look, let’s not do this on the phone. We can discuss it at home ok?”

 And then the familiar tone hit his ear, signalling she’d hung up.

 With a groan he banged his forehead against the steering wheel in frustration. He wasn’t looking forward one bit to that conversation.

He walked into the store a few blocks from their home, and for a second debated taking his time, just to stall but he knew he would simply be delaying the inevitable. It didn’t matter how long he left it, there was going to be an argument. He grabbed what they needed for dinner, and a few packets of snacks before he headed back out to his truck. 5 minutes or so later he was home, and walked up the steps, letting himself in. Fliss and Mary were both in the kitchen, Mary sat on the counter with a juice box, Fliss clutching a beer.

 “Hey…” he said, a little tentatively. Fliss gave him a tight smile and turned her head so that his kiss landed on her cheek. 

Yeah, he was in for it. Big time.

“You had a good day?” he asked, placing the bag on the side and looked at Mary.

 She nodded eagerly “I cantered today, off the lead line,” “Did you?” He smiled at her “Nice work Stack.” “Fliss got a video. Can we show Frank?” “Sure.” Fliss smiled at her, and pulled out her phone. She swiped at the screen and passed it to Mary who took it, and Frank moved so he could watch the footage over her shoulder.

 “My balance is still a little bit crappy…” Mary shrugged “But I didn’t fall.” “Your balance is fine.” Fliss said gently “You just need to keep your lower leg still but that will come in time. You’re doing great.” Mary beamed and handed Fliss her phone back.

“Why don’t you go get showered?” Frank looked at Mary “I need to speak to Fliss for a moment ok?”

 “Can I go on my computer once I’m washed up?” “Sure.” Frank nodded. She hopped down from the counter and wandered out of the room. Frank watched her go for a moment before he turned to see Fliss was stood looking at him. “So what did Greg say?” she asked, folding her arms

 “Nothing different to what you said.” Frank looked at her.

 “Right, and if he had said something different, like told you to go to the police, would you have done that behind my back too?” “No, of course not!” Frank shook his head as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, both hands either side of his body on the edge of the worktop, “That’s not what I-“ he took a deep breath “Honey, I just want to make sure that we do everything right. Greg’s gonna keep the card on file, says if you get anything else then he’ll keep that too, build a case.”

 Fliss looked at him for a moment before she shrugged “Whatever” “Whatever?” Frank frowned “That’s all you can say, whatever?” “Well what else am I supposed to say?” she looked back at him “You clearly know best…” “Fliss…” he sighed, “Don’t be like that…” “I’m not being like anything.” she shook her head “You’re the one that went behind my back, ignored what I asked you to do.”

 “With good reason…” “You know, I thought I might be at a point in my life where I get to make the decisions about things that directly affect or concern me but clearly, I was wrong…” “Woah, woah, woah, now hang on…” Frank pushed away from the unit he was leaning against, holding his hand up “Are you seriously comparing what I did to him….” “No, of course not.” she snapped. “Well that kinda sounds like what you were doing…” his hands fell to his hips.

 “Oh don’t be a dick, Frank.” she glared at him. “That’s not what I meant.” “Well what did you mean?”

 “I already said exactly what I mean!” she said, her voice rising in volume “You had no right to do that, no right at all to go behind my back like you did. I couldn’t do anything about him getting released, but the one thing I can control is how I react to this entire situation…and you took that away from me!” “You’re completely overreacting…” “Overreacting?” “Yes…” he strepped towards her “Liss, I didn’t do it to take control…nothing of the sort…” “How would you feel if you told me not to do something with Mary, something that meant a lot to you, and I still went and did it anyway?” “That’s…” he shook his head “That’s completely different.” “No, it isn’t!” she yelled back “It would be a complete disregard for your wishes, it’s exactly the same…” Frank looked at her, his eyes locking onto hers as she simply snorted and shook her head “You don’t even see what you did wrong do you?” “No, and I’m not apologising either.” he shook his head

“Of course you’re not.” she snorted “This is getting us nowhere.”

 With that she turned and called for Thor.

 “Where are you going?” he frowned, following her into the hall as she slipped on her sneakers.

 “Out.”

“Where?” he asked, when she didn’t reply he pressed again “Lissy.” “Piss off Frank.” she shot back, and with that she stormed out of the front door, slamming it behind her.

 Frank stood still, his hands on his hips before he dropped his head with a sigh.

 “Nice job…” he heard Mary say from behind him.

 “Shut up.” he snapped, a little harshly as he turned to face her. She glared at him and then rolled her eyes.

 “I’m going back to my room.” she said simply, stalking off down the corridor, laptop under her arm.

 Frank watched her go before he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Way to go Adler, you fucking idiot.

**** Fliss angrily stomped across the lawn and took a right, Thor trotting at her heels. She walked down the path that led to the Marina, took a left and dropped down the stone steps onto the beach, pausing to remove her sneakers. She dug her toes into the sand, rolled up her riding britches as much as she could before she headed to the waters edge, allowing the water to splash over her legs, Thor giving an excited bark as he gambolled in and out of the waves.

She was angry. Angrier than she had been in a long time. But it was more than that, she felt betrayed in a way. She had asked Frank to do something, something she felt she was perfectly within her rights to request and he had deliberately ignored her.

 She wasn’t sure how long she had been stood there, simply looking out over at the horizon but she was jolted from her thoughts by her phone ringing. She debated ignoring it for a while, but eventually she pulled it from her pocket and took a breath as she realised it was her Dad.

 “Hey Pops.” she greeted him. “You ok?” “Yeah fine Titch.” he said, “Just noticed I had a missed call…” “Oh, yeah…” she said, for a moment she had forgotten she had called. She had been planning to tell him about the card but as she stood there, she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore “It wasn’t important.” “Charming…” she heard her mother and Fliss let out a chuckle.

“You got me on speaker?”

 “Bluetooth.” Bill replied “We’ve been to the store.” “Stocking up for tomorrow.” Verity said “Can’t have a roast dinner with no potatoes…Mary would have a fit.”

 “Yeah…yeah she will.” Fliss said with a sigh.

 There was a pause before Bill spoke again “Lissy, you ok?” “Not really no…” she said, her eyes brimming with tears. “Me and Frank, we had an argument…a pretty big one…” “What about?” Bill asked.

“So, this morning I had a card arrive at the yard…and it was from John…” Bill made an angry noise as Verity let out an exclamation.

“That’s…he’s broken his parole…” “I know, but they’re not gonna launch an investigation over a card…so I asked Frank to get rid of it. But he took it to Greg behind my back and…” She trailed off, rubbing at her temple.

“So I’m guessing you discussed your disappointment with him in a calm and collected manner…” Bill said sarcastically.

 “If by calm you mean calling him a dick and storming out then yeah.” Fliss replied.

There was another moment of silence and Verity spoke again. “Honey, look…I’m sure he did what he thought was right…” “That’s not the point!” Fliss groaned “the point is I asked him not to. And he did it anyway. The one thing I can control in all of this is how I deal with it. And he completely disregarded that.” “Look, Liss, I love you to pieces, we both do” Bill spoke “But so does Frank, and him taking that card to Greg won’t have been about going behind your back. Have you considered how he feels in all of this?” “How he feels?” “Yeah, this is…this is something he will never have dealt with before. Seeing some other man basically trying to terrorise his girlfriend…he’s going to want to hit back, try and see if there’s something he can do. This isn’t about control. It’s about keeping you safe.”

Verity picked up the conversation at that point.

“I see your point sweetheart, and yes, he should have discussed it first but...” “So you both think I’m in the wrong?” Fliss asked gently, as she looked at her feet, Thor returning to her side and flopping down on the damp sand. “No…that’s not what either of are saying, is it V?”

 “No, not at all. He had no right to go behind your back, I get that honey I do, but…well, this can’t be easy for Frank either. And maybe…” “Maybe you should cut him some slack.” Bill finished “He’s a good man Fliss, and heaven knows you waited long enough for one to come along.”

 “I know.” Fliss said quietly, the tears trickling down her face. “I know…” “I can hear the ocean…so go home.” Bill said gently. “Talk to him. Calmly. Don’t let that asshole get in the middle of what you two have Titch, you both deserve more than that.”

 She nodded to herself, wiping her face and then bidding her parents good-bye she placed the phone back in her pocket.  Mulling their words over she turned and headed back across the sand, the sun setting behind them as she made her way over to the food truck parked by the side of the boardwalk.

******

 By the time Frank had convinced Mary to speak to him so he could apologise for snapping, it was getting dark out. Fliss had been gone for a good hour and a half, and Frank was getting a little concerned. He was just about to call Roberta to watch Mary whilst he went out looking, when the door opened and Thor padded into the living room.

 Frank stood up and turned to see Fliss in the doorway. Her eyes locked onto his and he gave her a small smile.

 “I was getting kinda worried.” Frank said softly “Wasn’t sure you were coming home.”

 “Neither was I.” she replied honestly and Frank swallowed slightly as she looked at him and sighed “I’m going for a shower then to bed. I’m tired.” “Ok.” he nodded “Do you want something to eat or…” “I grabbed a burger when I was out.” she shrugged, “I’m fine, thanks.” There was a moment of silence during which Frank simply nodded and then Fliss turned and headed down the corridor, popping her head into Mary’s room to say goodnight. Once he watched her open the door to the bathroom and shut it behind her, he set about quickly tidying the kitchen up, tossing the empty beer bottles into the recycling box under the sink before he loaded the dishwasher and set it going.  He moved around the living room, tidying a few things away before he turned the lights off and made his way into the bedroom.

Fliss was led on the bed, remote to the TV held in her hand as she glanced up at him for a second, her eyes flicking back to the screen on the wall. 

“You still mad at me?” he asked tentatively as he pulled off his t-shirt. She looked at him for a second and sighed.

 “Dad told me I was being an idiot.” “Right.” he said, sitting down on the bed next to her, extending his legs down the bed “That’s not answering my question sweetheart.” “I don’t know anymore” she shrugged “Yes, I’m still mad you did it…but I understand why. The fact you had the right intentions doesn’t make going behind my back any better.” “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that, and yeah, ok, I should have asked you first, talked it over.” Frank conceded nodding “I’m sorry.”

“And I’m sorry if you thought before that I was saying you’re anything like him because you’re not…and I know that…because I can get mad at you and…well, that makes it impossible to stay mad at you for long…”

“What?” Frank looked at her, smiling, his eyebrow raised. “What does that even mean?” Fliss looked at him, a faint smile on her face as she sighed “It means that I can get mad at you, and shout, and leave in a temper tantrum for a walk or whatever, without worrying that when I come back you’re gonna hurt me.” Frank looked at her for a moment, as her words sunk in. Something so simple as having an argument was such a huge thing for her, and the fact she even saw having an argument as a measurement of how much she could trust him because she felt comfortable enough to call him out on the things he did that she didn’t like or agree with, was utterly fucked up. But in a strange way, made total sense.

 She could argue with him because she felt safe…

 Frank moved so he was led on his side, propped up on his elbow facing her, his hand gently reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked down at him where she was led, shoulders leaning against the bottom of the head board of the bed. He could see she was getting upset now, her brown eyes were watering and with a sigh he gestured with his head and opened his arms and she shuffled down further, allowing him to pull her into his chest, gently kissing her head.

 “I love you.” he said softly “So much. I only went to Greg because I was worried. I’d do anything to keep you and Mary safe, you know that.”

 “I know…” she said quietly as he slid his finger under her chin, lifting her head so that she was looking at him. Lowering his head, he kissed her softly, his hand cupping her cheek as his lips gently worked against hers. She relaxed into him, allowing him to deepen the kiss, his hand tangling in her hair as her fingers softly skated through his short beard. Frank let out a smile against her mouth and she pulled back to look at him, her soft, brown eyes searching his.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing…” he smiled, “I just like it when you do that…” “What? This?” she asked, her nails scratching slightly against his whiskers and he let out a sigh of satisfaction, giving a nod. Fliss watched him for a second as his eyelids flickered shut, those ridiculously long lashes resting against his cheeks as she continued to gently run her hands through his beard, before she shuffled closer and pressed her lips to his.

 “I like it when you do that too…” he chuckled and she smiled against his mouth. They continued trading soft, tender kisses before Frank slowly moved so that Fliss was led under him, caging her with his arms as she gently ran her hands through his hair, pulling his head back down to kiss her again. His lips gently trailed along her jaw line to that spot on her neck just below her ear where he gave a soft nip causing Fliss to let out a soft moan. Her hips bucked upwards slightly, drawing a soft growl from Frank’s throat at the feeling as she pushed against him, all the time his mouth continuing its path downwards, tracing the line of her throat as his hands reached down and gently tugged at the hem of her vest top. She sat up slightly allowing him to remove it and he fell back over her, his lips latching back onto her neck, drawing another soft groan from Fliss at the feeling of his beard scratching against her skin and the contrast of his soft lips. His tongue circled the swell of her breast before he gently took a nipple into his mouth, listening to her keens as he teased her, his other hand sliding down over the curve of her hip, fingers brushing the hem of her sleep shorts before he slid his hand beneath the material, parting her folds as he began to tease her with his fingers, coaxing more and more wetness from her as he went. He glanced up to see her head was thrown back against her pillow, eyes shut in utter bliss as she bit her lip.

 “Look at me.” he said softly, moving so that his face was hovering over hers again, fingers still working. She opened those deep brown eyes he felt he could drown in and her pupils were blown with desire. His fingers picked up their pace and he slid one, then two inside her, curling against her spot over and over again.

 “Frankie…” she panted as her back arched, “I..”  her words stopped as she found herself unable to form them any longer, instead issuing a low gasp which turned into a groan as her eyes fluttered shut and she convulsed underneath him, tighten around his fingers. Eventually she relaxed and her breathing evened out slightly and she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face before her hand slid up into his hair, as he slanted his mouth over hers.

 Then it was a fast scramble to get both of them out of the last remaining, thin barriers of clothing before Frank nestled into the v of her legs, mouth nipping at her collar bone.

 “Want you…” she purred into his ear and fuck, did he want her too. Her hand reached down between them, and she gently lined him up, pressing her lips to his.

“Don’t keep me waiting Sailor.”

 And Frank, not one to refuse his girl what she wanted did as she asked, worked into her with a steady, gentle movement which made him shudder, dropping to his elbows over her as she gave a soft moan. Her hands gently gripped at his broad shoulders as he began to move, his thrusts slow and gentle at first, hips rocking against hers. Their mouths crashed together in a sloppy kiss as she raked her nails down his back, the sting on his skin caused desire to lance through him even more and he gave a groan, picking up the pace slightly, her body moving with his from each steady thrust, skin sliding against skin, the soft sounds of sex and groans and whimpers filled the air and half the time Frank was at a loss as to who exactly was making them. 

 “More…” she begged softly, and he hooked his hand under her knee, wrapping her leg up round his waist allowing him to drive deeper. She gave a loud mewl underneath him as her nails dug further into his shoulders as he moved faster, reading the signs she was giving him, his hips now snapping back and forth with a needy desire, the carnal want he had for this woman consumed him and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

 “Come on baby…” his breath was ragged on her ear as he gently sucked at that spot again, feeling her writhing underneath him. “I got you, let go…”

 His breath caught slightly as she tipped her head to press her lips to his, the kiss heated and he swallowed the loud groan she made before her head fell back her hands gripping to his back as if her life depended on it.

 “Frankie…I’m…gonna…” she managed to stutter before her mouth once more slackened and her sultry lament made Frank shudder as her body shook underneath him, her leg twitching as he held it tight round his waist. Her heat gripped him, pulsing again and again and he felt the burning deep in the pit of his stomach, the surge of his own orgasm felt like it was rising from his very toes as he drove into her once more.

 “Fuck, Lissy…” he mumbled and a guttural rumble erupted from his throat as his hips stuttered slightly before he made another few shallow thrusts before he collapsed forward, burying his head in her neck as the afterglow consumed him.

 He had no idea how long passed before he managed to muster enough about himself to raise his head. She still had her eyes closed but there was a satisfied smile playing on her lips, one he couldn’t help but mirror. As he watched her face, the tip of his nose gently resting against hers, her eyelids flickered open and he smiled down at her, gently pressing their foreheads together.

 “Ok?”

 “Yeah…” her voice was raspy and she swallowed “That was more than ok…” He chuckled as he met her lips in a soft kiss, before he gently rolled off her, laying on his back and reaching down for the duvet which was tangled around their legs. After a short wrestle with it and a bit more giggling they both settled down, Fliss’ head on his chest as he lay on his back, his hand softly carding through her hair.

***** The next few weeks skipped by fairly uneventfully, bar the almost meltdown Mary had when it was revealed to her that she wouldn’t be going back into Bonnie’s class when September rolled around. Frank tried to explain to her that wasn’t how school worked but she was besides herself, declaring she wasn’t going back to school if that was the case, leaving Frank groaning about the possibility of repeat of the scene they had the previous year.

 In the end, it was the twins that managed to explain it to her. Steve and his family came over to visit again for 2 weeks in the middle of August and the boys Charlie and Joel spent a lot of time at Fliss and Frank’s for sleepovers, Fliss loved having her nephews to stay and the boys thought Frank was the best person ever when he took them out on a boat he borrowed from work, allowing them each to take a go at sailing. Or being Pirates as they excitedly exclaimed.

One night when they were all sat in the lounge getting ready to settle in for a movie, Frank overheard Charlie telling Mary all about how he was looking forward to moving into the bigger classroom and learning cool news stuff. He could see the cogs whirring in her head and Fliss had smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek, whispering that she’d told him it would all work out in the end. And, thankfully, she was right.

One person who was NOT looking forward to the return of the school year was Bonnie. One Thursday night she called Fliss begging her got on a girl’s night out as she needed to blow off some end of holiday blues. Fliss agreed and arranged to meet up with her on Saturday evening. The weekend rolled round fairly quickly and Fliss was in a good mood when she arrived at work, a few lessons to do before she could head home and start getting ready. She was just heading out to the first one when her phone rang. The number was withheld but that wasn’t uncommon as a lot of people called about lessons in such a way.

 “Fliss Gallagher…” she answered. No one spoke in response. “Hello?”

 Nothing.

 With a shrug she cut the call and replaced it back into her pocket, making her way over to the paddock, when the phone went again. She repeated the process and there was still no one talking on the other side. 

“You ok?” Joanne looked at her, as Fliss frowned.

“Yeah, I just had 2 silent calls…” Fliss shrugged

 “Probably someone ass-dialling”

 “Yeah, maybe…” Fliss said, not voicing where her mind had instantly gone, straight to John.  She stuck the phone in her pocket once more and strode into the paddock, greeting her client.

 There were no more calls that day, which made Fliss comfortable enough that it wasn’t her ex. If it was and he was playing some stupid game he wouldn’t have stopped. So by the time Mary appeared to do her stable chores and ride Monty she was in fairly good spirits. Fliss decided that they were going to do something a little different on Mary’s lesson today, and she placed a few poles on the floor and had Mary walk Monty over them first, then do them in trot. It wasn’t hard for the pony, and he knew his job but it was different for Mary, making her concentrate fully on where she was going. Frank leaned on the paddock fence watching the pair of them as Fliss walked along side Mary, chatting away to her before she stepped back and allowed Mary to try it on her own. The smile on Mary’s face was all Frank needed to see and he nodded to her as she looked over to him, his hand falling to Thor’s head as the dog had jumped up, leaning his paws on the top of the fence.

“Alright buddy?” he asked, scratching his ears as Thor panted in response, giving a sharp bark at Fliss who turned to look at them, grinning.

 One the horses were fed they all made their way home and after dinner Fliss grabbed a glass of wine and headed for a shower and then to get ready. 40 minutes or so later she emerged dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white off the shoulder top that had large pineapples printed on it and on her feet she wore a pair of gold sandals. To finish the beach-chic look, her auburn hair was pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and she was wearing a pair of gold hooped earrings along with her Pandora bracelet.

“You look lovely.” Frank smiled at her, and she grinned back. “Ready to go?” “Yeah…” she nodded “Can we pick Bonnie up on our way?”

 “Sure.” Frank nodded, turning to Mary “Come on Stack. We’ll swing by for ice cream on our way home.” “Yesss….” Mary gave him a hi-five as they all headed for the door.

 It took them about 15 minutes to get to Bonnie’s and Fliss hopped out of the jeep heading up the steps to the small villa. Frank watched her go, quite happy to appreciate her ass in the shorts she was wearing, and smiled as she turned round, Bonnie following her down the steps.

“Hi…” She greeted Frank who nodded to her as she climbed in the back of the jeep. “Hi Mary.” “Hi Miss Stevenson…” “You can call me Bonnie out of school.” The dark-haired woman chuckled.

“I know.” Mary shrugged.

 Bonnie hesitated for a moment as Frank and Fliss exchanged a look, the pair of them grinning at Mary’s blasé tone before Frank shook his head.

“Mary…” he chastised her gently.

 “What?” she looked at him.

 “Just…oh, I dunno, whatever.” he mumbled, setting the car going again. Fliss and Bonnie struck up a gentle conversation about where they were going, Frank not particularly listening to be honest. His right hand absentmindedly dropped to Fliss’ bare thigh, his thumb gently rubbing at her skin and she dropped her left hand on top of his, gently intertwining their fingers.

 He was almost disappointed when he pulled up outside Rio’s that she had to let go.

 “Have a good time.” he said as she leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

“Will do.” she smiled “See you later Mary.”

 “Yeah bye!” Mary said, hopping out of the backseat to take up the vacant front one.

 “Ice cream or hot dogs?” Frank looked at her, tearing his eyes away from Fliss as her and Bonnie headed into the bar, already knowing full well what Mary’s answer would be.

 “Dur…” she looked at him “I got me a hankering for some Cookies and Cream.” Frank snorted and with a final look at the bar set off towards The Shack.

*****

“Did he just…” Fliss looked at Bonnie, her eyes flicking from the young man in front of her to Bonnie, then back again. They’d had a few drinks at Rio’s, then headed up to another bar a few doors down and had wandered over to see what was going on round a pool table, soon finding themselves watching three younger guys as they were racking the balls up, ready to start a game of killer. By this point they’d had a fair amount of beer and shots, so Bonnie, clearly emboldened by alcohol, had cheekily quipped to the boys that Fliss would kick their arses and one of them, a tall guy with floppy sandy hair had responded with an equally cheeky little smirk and invited the “Grandma” to join them.

 “Yeah, he so did…”

“Fucking Grandma…” Fliss glared at him, snatching up a pool cue.  “I’ll have you know, kid, I’m 34…not that old…” “You got 13 years on me.” he looked at her.

 “Experience…” Bonnie nodded sagely “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” “You offering?” the lad looked at Bonnie who burst out laughing

“Sorry, we’re both taken…” “With each other…” Fliss said, causing Bonnie to snort again into her drink “We’re lesbians.” “Awesome!” the guy grinned, looking Fliss up and down before he arched an eyebrow at her. “I’m Joe by the way.” “Oh, I’m Felicia and this is Linda.” Fliss said, this time causing Bonnie to choke on her gin.

 “Nice to meet you…now…”  Joe clapped his hands and then everyone around the table looked at him as he began to write their names on the blackboard adding 3 lines after each. The game was simple, you took your shot, if you potted you kept a life, if you missed you lost one. The last person standing was the winner.

 “Money in and…”

 “Oh, hang on…” Fliss looked around “I didn’t know we were competing for money…”

“You chicken?” One of the lads looked at her.

“No, I just…you know what?” She shrugged, pulling a ten note out of her purse. “Fuck it.”

 “You can break.” One of the lads said and she shrugged. Taking up position she hit the ball, deliberately hitting the group of colours in the wrong place ensuring she didn’t pot one.  The lads all took a turn each and on her next turn she sank a ball into the pocket, then on her next go she missed again, deliberately.

 “Ok,ok…” she said, as the guys started to tease her. “You’re all so confident double up…double the money…” “Whatever…” Joe snorted, pulling another $10 note out of his pocket. Bonnie, grinned and started to play along.

 “Felicia,…is that…” “Shut up Linda I got this…” She lined up and took another shot, smashing a ball at the top straight into a pocket.  The lads all exchanged a look, shrugging and continued, the game. Fliss continued to nail shot after shot and eventually it came down to her and Joe on the last ball.

 “So if I manage this…I win?”

“Yeah…” “Ok, top right…” Joe let out a groan as the ball dropped into the pocket. Fliss straightened up, leaning on the cue smirk on her face as she turned to the boys who were all laughing and shaking their heads.

 “Here’s a tip…” she smirked, taking the money “Don’t call people grandma…pleasure doing business boys…”

 Bonnie laughed, sliding her phone back into her pocket, as Fliss looped an arm round her shoulders and steered her back to the bar.

 “Shots?”

 “Yes…” An hour later they were multiple shots down and half way through a crucial game of Fuck, Marry or Kill. 

“Ok…” Bonnie looked at Fliss “Fuck, Marry or Kill. All the Chrises…Evans, Hemsworth or Pratt…” “Oh man…” Fliss groaned “I mean…I’d probably kill Pratt. No offence but I couldn’t murder Thor or Cap…I just…no, not possible”

“So…which ones getting the one night treatment and which one is here to stay…”

“If I marry him does that mean I’m fucking him as well?” Bonnie paused “Yeah, I would assume so.”

“Ok, in that case I’d fuck Hemsworth, marry Evans.” Fliss said, shrugging. “Do you not think Frank as a bit of a look of him…in the face?”

 “I’ve not thought about it…” Bonnie shrugged, before she grinned “I think you just have a thing for guys from Boston…”

 Fliss frowned as Bonnie looked at her, her face dropping. “Shit, Fliss, sorry, I mean Frank…” Fliss couldn’t keep her face straight before she burst out laughing “I know…”

 “Bitch!” Bonnie nudged her on the arm and Fliss smirked, picking up another shot. 

********

Frank was sprawled on the sofa, channel surfing when he heard his phone go. It was a WhatsApp message from Fliss and he opened it, giving a loud laugh as he saw her holding a shot of tequila, her face screwed up in a huge fake crying gesture.

“Bonnie is making me do shots…”

“Course she is…” he replied “And did Bonnie make you hustle those boys at pool too?” “How do you know about that?” “It’s on Facebook sweetheart, Bonnie uploaded the photo of you winning. Those poor kids stood no chance” “In my defence they called me grandma…cheeky bastards.”

Frank laughed out loud as he could just see her indignant expression. “Well that’s just fucking rude. How much did you sting em for?” “Sixty…we’ve nearly spent it all

“Sixty bucks…” he mumbled to himself with a snort as he tapped his response “That’s my girl.” “Always…” she replied back, with a winking emoji and he smiled again before dropping the phone back on the coffee table as he stood up to go and grab himself another beer. Simon had already called him to say he would pick them up, which was a relief to Frank as he knew he couldn’t drag Mary out of bed at whatever time they were ready to come back, and he also wasn’t one hundred percent happy about her cabbing back alone. Stupid, he knew that, she was a grown ass woman but still. Thankfully, Simon had been on the same wavelength. With a fresh beer in his hand, he flopped back onto the sofa and resumed his channel hopping, grinning when he found that American Pie was just starting on one of the movie channels. Tossing the remote down he settled back against the cushions to watch the film, Thor jumping up besides him, his head resting against Frank’s thigh.

He had seen this film countless times, but it still reduced him to tears, and Fliss for that matter. He watched, laughing along and the end credits had just started to roll when his phone buzzed again.

“On my way to collect the girls and just a warning, Bonnie sounds smashed.” With a snort he replied “I didn’t expect anything else. Thanks Si.” He stood up and threw his empty beer bottle into the recycling, debating whether or not he wanted another. Deciding he would leave it he started to clear away the remnants of the nachos and popcorn he’d been munching on, gently re-arranged the damned scatter cushions that Fliss had made him buy, which he grudgingly had to admit were actually pretty comfy and then grabbed the recycling box and headed out to toss it into the containers, Thor hot on his heels. Just as he had finished he looked up to see Simon’s Audi pulling up at the road and he made his way over.

 “Hiiiii!” Fliss grinned at him as she got out, Thor stopping by her legs and she gave him a quick pet.

 “Hey…you have a good time?” Frank asked, as she gave a giggle and nodded.

 “Bonnie’s fallen asleep. She can’t handle her alcohol.” she snorted and Frank looked round her to see that Bonnie was, indeed, passed out in the passenger seat.

He shook his head and leaned down to speak to Simon “Thanks pal…”

“No problem.” Simon smiled, before he cast a look at Bonnie and then back to Frank “She said she was tired, not drunk…” “And I’m the Queen of England…” Frank snorted as Simon let out a huff of a laugh.

“Well hello your majesty…” Fliss hiccupped and Frank looked at her, grinning as she winked at him, her eyes glazed.

Simon shook his head and Frank rapped the top of his car twice as he pulled off and headed back up the road.

 “Frankie…” Fliss looked at him as he dropped his arm round her shoulder.

“Yes baby?” “I’m hungry.” “Are you gonna stay awake long enough if I throw a pizza in the oven?” “Hey, I’m not like Bonnie, I can handle my tequila…” “Yeah, you say that now.” he grinned “Bet you won’t be tomorrow.”

 “It’s Sunday…I can die on the sofa.” she shrugged, heading up the steps into the house. “But now I really need food.” Frank snorted, “Ok, I’ll throw one in. Go get changed.”

 “Can you undo the button at the back of my top?” Fliss asked, spinning around. Frank obliged, gently sliding the silver pin shaped tab through the hole at the back of the collar, his hands gently rubbing her bare shoulders as she dropped a kiss to her neck. “Hey, Bonnie made a good point before…” she spun back to face him, he hands smoothing over his chest.

 “And what was that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Both of us, as in me and her, have seen you naked.” she grinned, arms connecting round the back of his neck.

“Jesus Christ.” he groaned, his hands falling to her hips.

 “And you’ve seen both of us naked…but we’ve never seen each other naked…” Frank looked at her for a moment, “What?” “Me and Bonnie I mean… don’t you think that’s unfair.”

 Frank looked at her for a moment, stumped for words before he gave a snort of laughter at her face. She was grinning wickedly at him, mischief shining out of her eyes. “Yeah.” he nodded, seriously, fighting to keep his face straight.  “Really unfair. In fact, I think it’s so unfair you should do something about it.” “You’re a pervert.” she narrowed her eyes at him as he laughed and shrugged.

 “You started it…” “Technically you did when you fucked her.”

“Ouch…” Frank raised an eyebrow at her as she smirked up at him “Low blow sweetheart”

 “I’ll give you a low blow later.”she winked and Frank’s eyebrow arched further up as she pulled his head down to kiss him softly “But first I need proper food…” “Well let go o’me and I’ll make you that pizza.” he reasoned.

With a final smile she kissed him again “Love you sailor.”

“Back at ya cowgirl.” he grinned, watching as she made her way to the bedroom, reasonably steadily as well all things considered, Thor padding along behind her. With a final snort and shake of his head, knowing full well she was going to be hungover to shit the next day, he turned and headed back towards the kitchen to make her something to eat.

**** Chapter 20

[elenamiria]

We’ll Never Be Royals

Royalty!Reader x Knight!Din Djarin

Rating: G Summary: A mysterious knight comes to your rescue and you find an unexpected bond on the journey home Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Light violence, reader in peril, tropes lol  Tags:  @fishswimbetterunderwater @a-dorin @blxwjobsforclones @lynnie51 @katrynec @mistermiraclee @theelvenvalkyrie​

1. Sorry for my absence in the past week, my family thought we potentially were exposed to covid (my mom’s coworker got sick and had to get tested) but good news! We’re all good!! 2. To my requesters I promise you I am working on my fics, I have had a little bit of writers block and I keep writing and then rewriting things because I go back and don’t like what I have so I’m so sorry it’s taking so long!! 3. I already had this written from a while ago and feel bad for the lack of content so I figured I’d throw this out there (Even though I’m not really sure if I like it, I kinda think it might be bad alsdhaiweo oh well) Also I’m pretty sure I want it to be a series but we’ll see how this goes

Anyways I love you all and I hope you enjoy!!

Din Djarin Masterlist     ~     Main Masterlist

Your knight in shining armor was not exactly what you expected. His armor was shining, gleaming silver, and he was dressed like a knight however he was not loyal to anyone but his covert band of mercenaries. He was a quiet man, never really speaking to you unless you spoke to him or he was telling you what to do. You had gathered that he was normally a bounty hunter after you had inquired which knight he was and he replied that you would not know who he was. You had also gathered that the king, your father, had sent him specifically for his quick and efficient ways as well as promising him a great reward if you were to be returned alive. You were beaten and bruised when he found you, the rival kingdom who had captured you desperate for the information you had on your fathers forces. When you had realized it was just one man coming to the rescue you fought back hysterics as you were sure the two of you were going to be killed, but he was quick with a sword and clever too. When you made it out alive you had wanted to see him, to know who he was, but he told you he couldn’t show his face.

There was a long journey ahead of you, traveling in secrecy did not lend itself to efficiency, and you found yourself growing closer to your mysterious knight. Always ensuring he had several portions of food ready for each meal while you made an excuse to wander off so he could eat in peace, you would watch the flames of your campfire reflect off of his armor and let your mind wander to what he was like under his helmet, you found you enjoyed his silence compared to the bustle of the castle, and you especially loved when he would gently tend to your wounds with a special salve. He would talk then, especially in the first few days when you were almost constantly in agony, you figured it was to distract you from the pain but you enjoyed hearing his stories. He told you of bounties he’d caught, of the lands he had seen and one day he told you about his creed, “I know you’re curious why I won’t show you my face. My people take this creed to protect ourselves from those who would wish us harm, it is our way. I am sorry I frighten you but I hope you can understand.”

You stared for a moment, slightly shocked he was bringing it up, before you spoke. Simply stating, “I am not afraid of you.”

His helmet tilted slightly before he turned to face you fully, “You do not have to lie to me your highness. I see how often you watch me, like you are anticipating my attack.”

You felt your face heat at the misunderstanding and you reached towards him but thinking better you let your hand fall to your side as you spoke, “My dear knight I do not stare at you because I am afraid of you.” You looked down as you continued, “I stare because I yearn to know you and I am curious. I do not fear you, in fact I think I trust you more than I have ever trusted any other being before.”

You glanced up with a shy smile at your confession. When you were met with silence you faltered, this time it felt different there was a tension in the air. When he said nothing for several very long moments you rose intent on retiring for the night in your embarrassment. A gloved hand lightly curled around you wrist as you brushed by causing you to freeze and turn to face your knight. There was a deep breath loud enough for you to hear through his helmet and then he spoke, “I do not trust easily.”

Something about his tone had you reaching forward to cup the helmet’s cheek but your gentle moment was interrupted by an arrow whizzing past your face. A startled yelp flew from your mouth and instantly he was in front of you shielding your front with his body, one arm pushing at your side to urge you behind him.

"Stay by me." he ordered, helmet scanning the area where the arrow came from. Your hands laid on his back as you looked around wildly, heart nearly pounding out of your chest, there was a noise and then another arrow was flying your way which was blocked and struck harmlessly off Din's armor. It seems the bandits realized with his protection they would have to take a more direct approach as three figures emerged from the shadows to charge at the knight. Barking an order for you to stay back he launched into action, sword drawn and clashing with the attackers. You backed away and aimlessly looked around for something to help, seeing nothing else you grabbed the metal pot that you used to cook your meals. Clutching it to your chest you continued backing up until you ran into something solid, you assumed it was a tree until the object wrapped a hand around your mouth and the other around your waist. Panicking you did the first thing you could and bit hard, your attacker wore thin cotton gloves that did little to protect him from your harsh teeth. The man cried out and pulled away from you and before you could even process what you were doing you were wildly swinging your pot into the man's head. 

He dropped and you stared with wide eyes unsure if he was dead, the loud shouts behind you disrupted you and you turned to see a blow to the side of your knights head knock him to the ground. This didn't deter him as his blade swung towards the attackers legs causing them to fall back while he recovered. He had just risen when one of them came from behind and wrapped a thick arm around his neck, the other two approached intent on disarming him. The situation looked grim and when a rough call of 'go, take the horse and go,' met your ears you knew you couldn’t leave him. Swallowing down your fear you approached quickly and as the other attackers shouted warnings to the third you made your attack. Once again you swung the pot as hard as you could striking the man on the head, as that seemed to do the trick last time. He stumbled and let go of your knight who stumbled but regained his bearings as oxygen filled his lungs once again. He landed a solid swipe on one of the other bandit’s arms and with that they seemed to give up, retrieving their friend who had only just stumbled up and they fled into the woods. You couldn't help the gleeful laugh that flew past your lips as you cheered in victory but it quickly died down when your savior stumbled. You rushed to steady him but he held up his hand and sunk to the log that you had been using as a makeshift bench while he caught his breath, "Gather our things, we'll stay in an inn for the night."

You nodded and hurried to collect your belongings. When you had completed the task, ensuring everything was securely attached to the horse, you fidgeted slightly before tapping your knight on the shoulder, "Everything's ready, are you feeling well enough to steer or would you like me to?"

He rose and turned towards you, "I'll steer."

He left little room for discussion as he extinguished the fire and mounted the horse, leaving you to climb on behind him. Wrapping your arms around him you rested your head on his shoulder as he stirred your horse to life. You found yourself drifting off as your adrenaline wore off despite the steady jolting sensation of your cheek against his shoulder armor.

You were roused by a call of your name and a gentle shaking sensation, you jolted up when you realized that you truly had drifted off, cheek sore from the harsh metal it had been laying on. The gleaming lights from the inn illuminated the night around you and Din instructed you to stay with the horse as he went to get a room. Dismounting you absentmindedly stroked your horse's snout, rambling softly to the animal, until a hand landed on your shoulder. You startled but relaxed when when you turned and it was just your knight, he hitched the horse and gathered your bags, leading you into the inn and up the stairs to your room. You paused in the door when you noticed the sleeping arrangements, there was only one bed. There was a low grunt behind you and Din muttered, "You can have the bed."

"No! You were the one who got hurt, you can have the bed. Please, I insist." You stared at him, and you assumed he was staring back at you, for several  moments until he sighed and nodded. You went about changing into your nightgown, quickly covering yourself with a spare blanket as you settled onto the floor and fluffed the pillow that you had taken from the bed. A throat cleared and suddenly he was speaking again, "Thank you. For earlier. You didn't go like I told you to."

His voice was questioning, even though you were sure it was supposed to have come out as a statement. You shook your head before you realized he couldn't see you and so you spoke instead, "I couldn't leave you, after all I suppose I was only repaying the favor. After all you saved me from a much more dire situation. But I wanted to help you, I....trust you."

You finished lamely wincing slightly, you sat in silence and as you waited for a response. Din's voice came hesitantly, "Earlier I said I don't trust easily." Your heart sunk, fearing that this was about to have the same outcome as last time - you going to bed full of embarrassment, until he continued, "I stand by that, but I trust you."

A smile crossed your face as your heart skipped a beat and you couldn't stop yourself from asking incredulously, "You trust me?"

There was another period of silence before, "I do, more than I thought possible."

And then yet another pause before so softly you almost missed it, "I think you deserve to know, my name is Din."

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 21)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 20.1

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Bearing the child from a man who promised was sterile gave more anxiety as you lived in their world, knowing that Geralt will resent as the offspring was forged by a cursed spirit that held her own reasons and consequences. Your fate becoming more complicated as each day pass by with a dreading feeling that you surely have no idea about.

Warnings: The usual blasphemy. Lore about the Djinn. (I've made it up) Matka means 'mother'. Ingrith is an OC of mine so she ain't real in the witcher story. Hehehe. (Surprise! Guess Geralt knew Ingrith after all. HE LIED. LMAO. 😂😅🤣) Panicking reader. Pregnancy. 

Words: 5.4k

A/N: Is this a boring chapter? I dunno. But, it will provide everyone the lore they need for some of your questions to be answered. I forgot to actually edit this because I was too focused on ranking up in Free Fire. Hahahahah. 😂 Had to edit this a day before I actually publish it in Tumblr. (I usually take 2 days because everybody loves to disturb me in my house. Also I need to manually tag people in taglists, check my grammar and typos. Oof. It makes me squint my eyes too hard on the screen because of how small the letters can be) 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. I only own my original characters in this fanfic. 

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Geralt of Rivia,"

Vicious and cunning as she may seem, her tone was utterly redolent. Familiar faces finally met in such a fate that not any fortune teller may assume would happen. Loved ones being involve in adversities that has been unflattering for the witcher who stood before the queen's long associate in the castle of Kaedwen, a victorious smirk warping her sharp-edge face that Geralt has not reciprocated. Twisted in a smile that tells she was hopeful over her plans being moved into the right places.

"---I knew you would come," Ingrith spoke as a matter of fact.

The witcher knew that this encounter was inevitable for the second time. Their previous meeting lingering inside his head---being the reason why he chose to live in the outskirts of Kaedwen which eventually made him tarry a bit over going to Kaer Morhen after receiving no answer from her. Receiving much of an answer he needed through Cuthbert, his neighbor who happened to heard rumors about 'her' whereabouts more than from the sorceress he'd decided to talk with.

He'd finally knew where Yennefer has been travelling when you've arrived, his search being an easy one as Geralt discovered her location after trying not to seek for the sorceress he has been looking for years---ending up knowing her area when he gave up finding the sorceress after a month or so.

"Where is she?" he beseech his avows, the scowl stern and never fading as he was eager to see you since the moment he step foot in the castle.

"Yen or your futile human? Oh, it wouldn't be that cursed princess you've butchered in Blaviken because she's already dead, Geralt."

The cunning sorceress tutted before him as they stood at the foot of the abandoned round tower, no guards being publicly seen because of the fact that they were too much of a milksop. Ingrith, Tybalt and Eanraig---the ones who had cabbalistic abilities were the only people who tries to take care of the prince. His own parents and siblings never giving bother about checking how he was doing despite of being harmless in daylight.

"---You've disappointed me---I knew you had a penchant for sorceresses or women whom you could consider as your kind---strong, discerning....and even whores paid to entertain you through your pitiful solitude,"

Ingrith went on with her vouching, leaning her head to the side with a knowing gaze inside her eyes; a forewarning that she was dismayed from his foolish decisions that she finds, continuously mocking his settlements, "---But, you've chosen a useless woman who could not defend herself even by telling the queen that she was not the thief who has stolen her precious necklace,"

The butcher barred his teeth, jutting his jaw forward as he felt his back turn tense and rigid from how he was turning furious as each second passes by with the sorceress he'd regretted to seek for help before---not knowing she would also be the person to afflict pain for his midget in the future.

"You've told the queen that she stole her jewelry when you know it wasn't her, not a canny persuasion made, Ingrith."

Her grin turned bigger, finding his anger satisfying and entertaining in her perspective. Ingrith could disguise as a devil and nobody would notice because of how wicked she'd been turning herself into; a wretch that Geralt have seen from her with the sacrilegious intentions living inside her mind.

"I've expected more from you than to choose and defend a mortal, Witcher."

"---I've remember the night we first met," she continued to ran her mouth, sardonic as she gladly hinted. Ingrith could see the blaze in his golden eyes, how he wanted to unsheathe his sword that was carried behind his back to show her his indignation for everything---from leaving her niece in the hands of her father who detested her due to deformity.

Hence, she has left young Yennefer with no guilt in her eyes despite knowing everything---leaving the past behind and acting like it never happened, taking the initiative to ignore her whereabouts and look the other way from how she grew into a strong woman.

"You were asking Yennefer of Vengerberg from me," she stepped a foot closer towards the witcher, making Geralt deeply breathe through his nose from his pique and lack of personal space that she was trying to bombard him with.

Ingrith couldn't help but let her grin fall when Geralt took a step back, steering clear from her suggestive gestures as he gave her a low hiss and rumble of his chest when he added words to complete her sentence, "---and you had other plans,"

"I've had better plans for us, Geralt."

"I do not wish to be involved by those treacherous plans of yours. You want power---you wanted to become stronger. Settling yourself in the castle to do what you want. Even planning to extirpate your own niece because she is more powerful than you,"

The sorceress scoffed to herself, exasperated from how he blocked her advances. His amber filled with fury as it has still not yet died down after going the deep end. Her trials involving on discouraging his faith for a mere mortal like you. Her ears felt like it was being rattled from the inside, triggering her pride and ego over being told that she was below of her niece in terms of strength and magic, "Yennefer of Vengerberg? She is not powerful as you may seem, Witcher."

"You've left her alone with people who do not care for her,"

"Sorceresses don't die easily than mortals. It's in her blood; our blood, Elven blood. You know this."

Geralt couldn't help but give her a snicker, the small curl of his lip raising in disbelief for her intentions over you and being involved in his god-forsaken life that he didn't want you to be a part with, "You want my mortal to die,---" he gruffly muttered, the words tasting bitter on the ends of his tongue for the idea of you dying in his arms.

"---I won't let that happen, not until I'm alive, Ingrith."

The witcher continued to brood like how people described him to be; his mood turning sour for not seeing you yet and not knowing what was happening to you as it kept his chest bothered and heavy. Ingrith's features warped into a twist, her nose scrunched from how distasteful she found his protection over your vulnerable, weakened self; how pathetic he was caring for a mortal that could die easily especially having the curse, you were more impuisant than any other woman in the continent because a curse had effects and consequences.

His safeguarding would be useless because of the inevitable juncture that would give him sorrow and Geralt had no idea what he was in when he was trying hard to shelter you out of harms way.

Ingrith crossed her arms, shaking her head at his determination, "She'll eventually die, witcher. It's her fate in the continent. Humans like her reach their demise with misery and regret because they're nugatory, serving no purpose but to be insignificant over us,"

The latter turned his back away from her, ending the discussion with his perseverance being unyielding, shaking his head for her estimated fortune telling that he believed was a lie; understanding that she was only saying it because you didn't belong to their world and you were at high risk over danger for the chaos living in the continent.

"She won't die nor will you have the opportunity of doing so,"

"Her existence would bring more despair; more sorrow for your fate. She's just a nuisance value of human kind!" Ingrith loudly exclaimed from behind, watching him courageously push the doors to the round tower where the cursed prince has been living. Disregarding her warnings like the wind passing through.

He heard her but didn't give any acknowledge over her words. Whether it was true or not, the witcher may never know unless the day that Ingrith has been foretelling has actually been damned after all.

The fairly large throne room was filled in luxury, themed in gold and red. Such color that simply tells how their bloodline lived around the hierarchy that they highly take care of. Blood and coins. It says all. Their ornaments and artifacts spent with coins seeming to be conceived in detail for their palace rather than for the people who deserved it better living in Kaedwen.

Queen Makeda tapped her fingers along the arms of her throne, her gaze sharp and pondering over Geralt and Tybalt who stood in the middle of the room. Both having an obvious lour; deepening when she started to give orders about what was to be expected over the hunt, any hints as to where the witch has been rumored to be last seen or any more information that must be shared before Geralt takes off.

"Tybalt shall be coming in search for the witch with the witcher,"

Prince Markith, he was the queen's younger son before Prince Althalos. A lot more younger than the cursed man, immature as the maids say so. He stood beside his seated mother, wearing a simple doublet over his black breeches. The fading freckles on his cheeks stretching when a giggle escaped his lips; an obvious space between his two front teeth shown as his laugh echoed around the throne room that has gotten Geralt to give a gander.

"Witch. Witcher. Witchest." the teenager playfully mumbled beneath his breath, finding amusement over the whole thing going on with his family especially seeing the white haired witcher all brooding and silent, subtly mocking his kind in the least offending way as possible.

The queen immediately given him a sharp warning of her gaze, cocking her head to the side and seeing her son continuously chuckling from his own joke, having his own world that he always manages to live in. Seeming to be like he had imaginary friends rather than real ones that his parents seclude him amongst children because Markith should be remained untouched from the filth that people had.

"Markith, that is not a proper attitude of a prince," she lowly scolded in the midst of talking, the child's interruption obviously irking her temper.

Markith raise a brow, the child's tone utterly sardonic as he spoke, "But, I'm not the crown prince. Brother is. But, if brother dies then---"

She cut him off with a brusque hiss, "He will not die from our hands! He will live and rule the future of Kaedwen,"

"Does this kingdom even have a future when it is ruled by your hands?"

Quietude filled the throne room after her son's sarcastic retort. The silence was frothing; bubbling from her expected aggravation over the younger prince's shameless answer. Much to her chagrin, she has never received an apology nor an explanation as to why Markith suddenly blurted it out in the open for Geralt to hear.

Upon hearing those words coming from a child, the witcher couldn't help but stood nonplussed. His expressions coming off as emotionless with his brooding charm jumping off the four corners of the room. In which has received a glower from the vampire who also stood beside him, his eyes seeming to be taking Geralt much more of his attention when they were both called to stay beside each other.

Queen Makeda raised a finger, ushering one knight to march his way up the numbered stairs under the lavish canopy where the king and queen's throne sits.

"Bartley, bring him back to his chambers," she roughly ordered, her teeth barred as she glared at Markith who was also feral for disregarding his opinions over their corrupted reigning throughout their kingdom. Bartley gave a courteous bow for the queen before walking to where her son stood, forcefully grabbing onto his shoulders as he gently pushed him around to leave.

"But, Mother---"

The queen never takes no for an answer. Hence, one loud yell was all the child has taken before being thrown out, his gaze lingering longer at the witcher whom he has heard tales about; having quite the eagerness to see if the tales were true to their words. Yet, his mother decided to lock him up in his room again for being curious and playing around.

"Now!"

Geralt stood completely still. The scowl never changing as he gave a heavy sigh, seeming like the world was carried on his burly, armored shoulders. His sour mood being the result of your prior, quick separation before he even walked to the throne room. Your pained words ringing inside his head for a thousand times like a plague that he had finally not been immune for.

He shouldn't have left you in that condition especially when you were physically injured. Geralt actually just proved to you how much of a witcher he was; cantankerous, blunt and emotionless even though you've had this strong faith for him that you believed being the opposite of it.

But, he just needed to fuck it up by leaving you without a word and also calling you pathetic in such ways.

The butcher continued eating his own heart out by staring at the queen with brooding eyes, waiting for the go signal for his hunt. He wanted to get this over with; planning to do his job right and find the witch, bring her in the castle to reverse the spell then off you go with him. Leaving all of these behind as a past that you would never forget or decide to forget forever if you wanted to.

Tybalt audibly scoffed for Geralt to give him his regard, taking the side-eye from the witcher as he publicly stated his cavils, "Why am I traveling with him now, yer' majesty? to be his guard? Hilarious!"

One familiar hum was heard; gruff and utterly sarcastic once Geralt began to frankly acknowledge. His hostility over the vampire obvious when he has opened his mouth, "I work better alone and away from blood sucking monsters." a feigned curl of his lips appearing to be a smile has been received towards the queen, her quick understanding seeing that it was a forced one that Geralt was trying hard to perceive over his altercations.

"---I'm a witcher. I slaughter beasts. Monsters of any kind."

In the spur of the moment, Geralt turned his head to let Tybalt see the mocking flicker inside his golden eyes.

Tybalt knew he was pertaining to his kind. Vampires. He couldn't help but clench his fists on his sides, his nostrils flared while the witcher was trying to get on his nerves---or he just basically hated the higher vampire to send his animosity by being forthright, "What ye' lookin at, Weccan?" he sneered back at Geralt with barred teeth while the white wolf had the end of his lip curled into a leer, irked by his smug pillorying in the presence of the queen like he didn't give a fuck.

He really didn't especially when he wanted to behead everyone in his way.

Geralt's presence was already making Tybalt's hackles rise without even trying to nettle his temper. The image of his newly bathed hair was already narking him without even seeing his face and the feeling was mutual for both enemies.

Tybalt began forming his own ridicules, seeing the witcher become the object of his scorn.

"Your skin is as pale as your tresses. I doubt you still have any amount of blood in ye'!"

"The joke's too old. I'll assume you've asked me if I do bleed." the white wolf was nonchalant as he quipped. Displaying to be quite blase from his attempts of hurling more anger out of him when he was too furious from the start to even begin with.

"---Witcher, do you bleed?"

Geralt couldn't help the most jaded expression he could ever muster upon hearing the most asked question, uttering out a grumble of his insouciant timbre of his voice that has gotten Tybalt bellowing from his remark.

"My blood's not tasty enough for you. Don't bother."

"This feckin' arse!"

They've both sent each other deep growls against their chests, a low rumbling sound that was bouncing off the castle walls that everyone who was inside the throne room could notice as they stood side by side, giving each other glares and their derisive taunting.

Queen Makeda had a finger supporting her head from falling. Her arm folded and leaning against her throne whilst sighing over their random twits. Foot tapping along the stoned floors as she gave them both her enervated attention.

Tybalt's fixated gaze has been cut short when he'd knelt on the ground with one knee, bowing his head to pay his respects for the queen---probably, seeking support over not letting him travel with the witcher who must have a difficult time finding the witch that couldn't be found at all; not wanting to share his time with Geralt because their personalities were clashing against each other like rusty, acidic metal, "---Your highness, If you're worried about him dying in the middle of saving yer' witch whom can lift Prince Althalos' curse, I can assure you, he will not die. Legend says witchers die from monsters they hunt. The witch obviously isn't---"

The queen has raised her palm to cease his comments, completely unimpressed by how privileged he was being when it was her decision whether he would let him go or not.

"I can see how you both despise each other," she plainly stated, sounding nasally like she was too disappointed by Tybalt's actions.

At the mere exclamation of that, both men spoke in the same time. Their antipathy colliding even with their words sounding exactly what they felt for one another.

"Hate him." Geralt and Tybalt both snarled with such rancor, glaring for one more time before partially giving their whole attention to the queen who sat before the throne.

They've seen her mouth turn into frown, turning a blind eye towards the higher vampire who was left sulking for his sudden hunt. His plans with his sorceress coming to a stop for the queen's orders, intending to guard all your whereabouts in the palace as Ingrith tries to formulate a scheme to have you suffer without raising their hands on you nor using magic that will eventually fail because you were protected by a djinn.

"Tybalt. Be with the witcher. I want you guarding him until he finds the witch. The witcher shan't go back empty handed."

Tybalt couldn't help but curse beneath his breath, subtly rolling his eyes as he stood on both feet, adjusting his fur coat resting along his shoulders, "Oh, feckin' bullocks." before shaking his head as he forced a nod and approval out of him to gesture at the queen of Kaedwen.

Geralt calmly tried his best to exhale in a relaxing demeanor, his facial features twisting in utmost pique from the idea that he would be spending five days with the vampire he had a fight with back in the marketplace.

"Fuck." he lowly snarled to himself, momentarily shutting his eyes to breathe in disappointment. His head cocked to the side. Geralt felt Tybalt grip onto his armored shoulder, giving him a shallow pat to state his indignation with the whole ordeal. He turned on his heels, marching out of the throne room to fetch and pack his belongings for the journey ahead, quickly jogging out of the throne room that was making him want to curse as every second passes by with the witcher.

Queen Makeda can't help the snicker on her face, a smile forming wrinkles on the apples of her cheeks as she stated her false promises.

"You have my word about your little woman, Witcher. We will not touch her again."

Though, Geralt knew deep inside that it was all just a lie.

You've been receiving lots of personal questions from the druid. One of his queries was about the idea of wholeheartedly accepting a child from Geralt which you explained an approval if it was given in the future---or if he was even capable of giving you one. You strongly believed he can't.

Though, in the back of your head, you couldn't help but think how your child would look like with his genetics. Will she or he have white hair too? you gotta' have a child with beautiful genes somehow. An echo of hopeful, deranged voices filled your thoughts, quickly disregarding the thought in the back of your crazed head whilst hearing Eanraig bombard another question of his that kept you aware of how zealous he sounded.

"Do you love Geralt?"

"Woah. Hold your horses, Eanraig."

Subtly swallowing the anxiety away from hearing such question, you've warily cleared your throat. Your mouth wincing from the pungent taste of your after-retch. The inconspicious nullify of the subject taken heed by the scholar when you've avoided his eyes.

In-denial of the truth. Eanraig thought silently to himself while he brought his hand down, away from patting your back, "You will be giving the witcher a miracle," he lightly convinced you and decided that particulars shall be provided for the mother of the miraculous child growing inside; delaying the details with the father that would surely bring him into a shock and red-light from the witcher himself because of how having a pickney in the midst of his life will only bring his descendant danger.

"---From the night of the full moon, between a man and woman who had nature take its course, a child shall be produced,"

Mentioning that in a hot second, you were quick enough to counter the lie you ought to believe in. Trusting Geralt and his words more than ever because he knew himself better than anyone else especially in 'that' department. Thorough objection was promptly written all over your shocked, disapproving expressions; brows furrowed in worry with lips turning ajar for such sensible responsibility being given to your head like a crown fitting for you.

Was Geralt lying and he actually just wanted to get you pregnant? If so, then he was certainly a wacko for even doing it---in your world he could be arrested for lying.

"Geralt's infertile! What are you even---?!?!" you couldn't finish your sentence as the responsibility for having your lechery take over you a few nights ago was worth enough to blame. How did Eanraig knew when it hasn't reached a month after a tangle of passionate desires with the witcher? did everyone knew about it but not you both? was it why you were being hated by Ingrith because she knew you were bearing Geralt's child?

A ton rounds of bulleted questions rang inside your head after one query hasn't been answered. One by one it was hopping like rabbits chasing a baited carrot because on the other side of your head, it knew answers for your disputes within yourself.

Panic and fear over an unborn child was beginning to take a toll as you grabbed onto your roots, frustratingly tugging on them while you listened to Geralt's old friend.

"Infertile or not. As long as the other is human who possesses no magic---or better yet, both humans who possesses no magic shall receive results beyond their expectations. I have never told Geralt about this because he will never believe me. A Witcher does not take that kind of news too well---might be even saying that he would take his child as a bait to be eaten by monsters than to bring them to this world,"

You've pursed your lips, finding how true it was to hear those words from the witcher knowing that you were pregnant by his child. Was this a hoax? a dream that God wanted you to never wake up from?

Being transported to their dimension; loving a mutated human you never expected to and eventually baring a child from him when he knew he could never bore a child at all. Was this your destiny for him? giving him miracles---a child that he certainly didn't expected and needed because accepting his child of surprise was already difficult for him to undertake.

"I can totally hear him saying that." you uttered completely defeated and benumbed from the breaking news that made you forget how upset you were by Geralt's prior actions.

"You are having his child, my dear. You're carrying his scion that has been forged by the Djinn." Eanraig started his elucidation about the serious topic at hand, educating you about the accelerated gestation that the Djinn's curse may come between. Earlier telling you about the expected development because you might be seeing changes over your body than how a normal woman will be expecting.

"---The process is faster. Three times hastier than a normal pregnancy---Though, never fear for the child not to be normal."

With sangfroid, the breath that you've been holding has been puffed out with your eyes drooping closed; letting the calmness sink in without having the panic rise through your head for a hundred times because of the thought that the child would turn out different in which she may suffer in the end.

Until Eanraig decided to continue his statements that has given you whiplash.

"---Because that child is beyond normal. She'll inherit the Djinn's powers because it is a part of Matka's three wishes."

"She?" you've managed to feebly and shakily mutter beneath your soft breath, feeling the coldness wrap around you for knowing more about the child that you were currently bearing---keeping you in a constant disorient that had you staring onto your twitching fingers laid upon your thighs.

"I'll assume that the Djinn you have gotten was a Matka. The cursed Djinn who lovers try to find in order to bore an heir if they cannot create their own offspring. Matka was created to give her own powers to a progeny that would inherit her abilities---believing that her existence will help the world from lessening the bedlam within the lore of monsters and humanity,"

"You're telling me I'm really pregnant with a girl? with...with Geralt's child? This child is also...owning such power that is making me hyperventilate right now?! Is it a vampire?! What if it eats my insides just like how Edward's baby did?!" your back was still utterly stiff from the nervousness that this news has given you, the mere fact of taking care of a powerful baby pouring ice buckets on your head---the dread hitting your core from the stupefaction and fear raising a child of your own.

Your modern references has given Eanraig a nonchalant stare from him, never knowing to laugh or smile over your panicky state.

"Is the witcher a vampire?" he hesitatingly spoke, his throat sounding dry before Eanraig cleared his throat when he'd lately realized.

"No."

"Then, it shall not have any vampire blood."

Skin felt tingling as your heart couldn't stop the beating so fast, throwing you into a swivet, "I'm not prepared to be a mother, Eanraig!"

You couldn't help but reach a hand to clasp around your tightening throat, further listening to Eanraig. His expositions making you want to give him a bark of laughter due to the disbelief over what reality that destiny started giving you when the Djinn happened.

"The continent has its own supernatural contingencies that nobody may ever explain---which has given you a child of yours with the witcher. Your kingdom knows no magic based on your reactions, correct?" the druid raised a brow and grabbed both of your shoulders, firmly letting you look into his grey eyes that continued inspiriting your devastated self.

You've tentatively shook your head to give an answer. The dread gripping your heart so tight that you started breathing heavily, your fingers suddenly grabbing onto your stomach because of the sudden memory that the castle guards have placed a kick to your gut. The worry for your unborn baby bringing you into utter distress for her condition.

A loud gasp left your lips, "Wait, I've been---I've been abused---hurt---what about my child, Eanraig? If---If Geralt knows about this now, he wouldn't want my child, would he?"

"I...may never know what he thinks, little woman. He hardly speaks. Only to you, the bard and his surprise child, I assume."

"Then, should I keep this from him?"

"I doubt his mutations can keep your pregnancy as a secret,"

Panicking more than ever, you've felt your eyes well up with warmth. Signalling tears threatening to come out of it as both of your palms were on either side of your head. Quiet whining were heard in the back of your throat for the future that was bound for you especially by being thrown on the face by a brick, the brick being fate moving mountains for the witcher and his ill-fate infertility---that has been surprisingly controlled by the power of magic; black magic.

"Then, what do I do?! I don't want to raise a child on my own when I'm not even prepared to be a mother?!" Eanraig heard the sobs from you and he'd quickly gathered all of the comfort he could give by patting you on the back, calming down that tough anxiety you have.

"Cease the tears," he continued to pat, "---It'll be bad for you and the child,"

"I have a witcher baby! What do I do?!" you ranted and raved, sniffing in the same time as your fingers spread across your chest, feeling it tighten a lot more because of this serious matter. Time stood still for you, imagining what Geralt would say or tell when he couldn't even accept your love; when he was still secretive over things he wasn't comfortable about telling.

Would he be fine to have a child with a woman who was in love with him when he doesn't even know his true feelings for you until now?

"I don't know how to tell, Geralt! I don't wanna let this child grow without a father---what if I leave this world all of a sudden without him? Eanraig, what if he dies out there right now and this child grows up without a father?"

You knew, he would refuse the child you were having because of how he had a long time accepting Cirilla. A child who has already been taken care of by another---what more for a baby that he certainly had no experience of having nor wished to have?

The druid welcomed all your rants over such an important and surprising incident that existed in the white wolf's life. Completely knowing for it to be an unexpected route in his path that Eanraig could never see for him. He gave one last comforting pat on your back, nodding to you as if he was trying to let his words seep inside your head---your apprehension that he solely hoped to be the maturity of your mind.

"Let fate decide what will happen. You'll eventually need to tell the father of your child---and the witcher will know about it soon,"

Little did you know, there was already a tiny beat of a heart that seem to be inaudible for a mortal; but not for a witcher who had sensitive hearing created to catch onto the tiniest rustle of leaves till the quietest thumps of every heart.

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means your blog can’t be tagged. Please check your settings, bb’s! Thank you.) @alyxkbrl​​ @himarisolace​​ @barkingbullfrog​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​ @turkish276​​ @spookypeachx​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​ @nympeth​​ @amirahiddleston​​ @gabethelobster​​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​ @melaninstylezz​​ @psychosupernaturalhero​​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @deadlydemon​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @angelofthor​​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky​, @shesthelastjedi​, @a--1--1--3​, @gutfucks​, @raynosaurus-rex​, @britty443​, @suhke3​, @shadowclawstudio88​, @ruthoakenshield​, @just-a-sad-donut​, @gxrdenr0se, @singeramg​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​, @crazybutconfidentaf​

General taglist: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​, @silverkitten547​, @henrythickcavill​, @kaatelyyynn​, @marvelousell​, @madelinelina​, @summersong69​, @raynosaurus-rex​, @fckdeusername​, @evansislife​