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#just!! a sign!! that a part of her lives on!! that's all I need!!!
propertyofwicked · 2 days
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SECRETS part 6 - LN
warnings: angst, lots of swearing angry max, angry lando, angry y/n - everyone's mad. potentially a happy ending? (u have to read to find out :) ), cheeky bit of fluff
part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> next part coming soon!
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“you fucking lied right to my face, the both of you!” max said, raising his voice and breaking the silence in his living room, “i asked you a year ago and you both lied to me.”
y/n and lando quickly realised that arriving together to talk to max was quite possibly a mistake. the drive to max’s house had started off well, the music flowing through the speakers and easy conversation between the two helped. yet, the closer they got, the more anxious they both started to feel.
they were all in the living room, P had scuttered off to the kitchen, busying herself with baking. max was directing every profanity he could think of towards both lando and his sister, their mother would be horrified to learn max even knew these words let alone the fact he was screaming them at her youngest daughter, y/n thought to herself.
it’s her nature to defend herself, but for the first time in her life, she sat silently, twisting her rings around her fingers. max was so angry, she figured he wouldn’t listen to anything she had to say anyways at this moment in time. so she sat silently, taking the abuse.
“have you slept together?” max suddenly asked, his voice finally calm. y/n’s face grew red, lando stuttering.
“so that’s a yes, she who prides herself on being honest and can’t even give me a straight answer,” he snorts.
“i’m an adult, max. stop being so immature and overbearing,” y/n finally spoke up, her tone bold even though she wanted to do nothing more than cry, “what does it even matter? you’re going to get mad either way.”
“of course i’m mad! you,” he stated, pointing a finger at lando, “have been fucking my sister behind my back.”
“stop saying that shit - it’s not like that.”
“no? then what is it like?” max shouted back, his anger once again bubbling to the surface.
“I LOVE HER! ok, i love her,” lando said, finally raising his voice. the room fell silent. even the blender in the kitchen stopped, letting everyone know P was listening in.
“you love me?” y/n asked softly, turning to face lando. he looked almost scared. he chose to ignore her, moving his head up to stare into max’s eyes.
“max, i love her. i think i always have. i would do anything i could for her,” lando said, his voice returning to his normal tone. max said nothing, he simply turned on his heel and left the room.
“i tried angel,” lando said to the girl next to him, his arm stretching out to rub her thigh softly.
“i know you did,” she replied sadly, “so - you love me?”
“of course i do,” he replied, smiling at her.
“don’t take my lack of reciprocation as a rejection. i just uh- i just need time,” she said, panicking slightly and fumbling her words.
“i don’t expect you to say anything back, my love. we’ll sort this out, i promise.”
she wants to believe him, she really does, but max leaving the room was a bad sign.
“you can’t promise me that,” she says, his hands coming to cup her face and press a sweet kiss to her forehead.
“i will do everything i can to sort things out with max,” he says kissing her head again, before pushing himself off the sofa to follow max’s footsteps out of the room.
y/n sat in the silence, thinking only of the way max’s face fell in a mix of anger and betrayal before he stormed out of the room. too much had happened in the past 4 days, and she hadn’t given herself time to process a single part of it. the tears started flowing, and she feared they would never stop as she started coughing from the intensity of her sobs. P must’ve heard her from the kitchen, as not long after she’d started crying, P was sat next to y/n, pulling her body down to lay her head on her lap, her hand coming to stroke her back softly.
“he’ll come around y/n. he loves you, he can’t stay mad at you forever.”
“he can, and he will,” y/n responds, another wave of tears rolling sideways down her face, landing on P’s trousers.
meanwhile, max was in his room, pacing out of pure anger.
“mate i-,” lando said as he walked in the room.
“no, i dont wanna hear it. you promised me you would never d-” he interupts.
“i know! i know what i said. and i regret it.”
“you regret promising me you’d never defile my sister?”
“i regret not telling you how i felt about her. i regret making that stupid promise when it’s all i wanted.”
“all you wanted was to defile my sister? great argument lando, thanks for stopping by. you can fuck off now.”
“all i wanted was to love your sister. to give her the fucking world if she’d let me.”
“what?”
“i love her. she’s intelligent, she’s strong willed, she’s confident in herself, and i think she’s the most beautiful woman i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he says, barely stopping to breathe, but max was listening - finally. the two friends looked at each other, both of them slightly shaking under the pressure.
“you really love her?” max asks after a few moments of silence, his voice the lowest it had been for hours.
“i do.”
“this isn’t just for a shag?”
“are you joking?”
“just answer the fucking question.”
“no, it’s not just for a shag. i want to spend to rest of my life with her.”
“ok.”
“ok?” lando repeated, confused.
“i’m not ok with this, but i will be eventually. so long as you don’t hurt her.”
“i think you should be more worried about her hurting me,” lando joked in attempt to ease the awkwardness, to his relief max smiled slightly.
“if she hurt you, id be the proudest ive ever been,” he jokes back, earning a small snort from lando.
lando backs himself towards the door, gripping the handle.
“you coming?” he asks max, cocking his head to the side slightly in questioning.
“nah i just need a few minutes to sort myself out.”
“alright mate. i think you need to speak to y/n.”
“don’t tell me what to do,” max quips back, lando holding his hands up in defence before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
when lando re-entered the living room, he saw y/n laying on P’s lap, crying softly, his entrance causing both girls to look up at him. he breathed out a sigh before announcing -
“i think it’s all gonna be ok.”
“i’m going to go an talk to him,” y/n said boldly, sitting up and wiping any remaining tears from her eyes, still trying to regain her regular breathing.
“are you sure that’s a good idea?” lando asked, voice lace with genuine concern.
“i don’t care. i need to let him know that this is not acceptable,” and with that, she left the room. lando and P looked at each other, their eyes both conveying a sense of dread for the impending fall out.
“max?” she asked, knocking on his door.
“go away.”
“no,” she said, pushing the door fully open and sauntering into the room.
“y/n i-”
“no, you’ve done your shouting. it’s my time to talk,” y/n tone was harsh, but it worked. max sat back in the chair, silently, allowing her to finally speak her mind.
“i didn’t do this out of disrespect for you,” she prefaced, breathing in a deep breath before continuing, “i didn’t expect this to happen. i didn’t think any of this was going to happen.”
“i know.”
“but that does not give you any right to decided what or who i do,” she declares, max grimacing slightly at her choice of words, “you made him promise to stay away from me! that’s not on, max. he was my friend too and even if anything else was happening you had absolutely no right to make that decision for me.”
he says nothing, simply nodding at his sister as he digests her words.
“you owe me an apology. for thinking you can control my life and for the way you have behaved in the last 3 days. it’s not the fucking eighteen hundreds, you cannot take this ‘alpha male’ role in my life and make decisions about who i date,” she adds, using her fingers to make quotation marks.
“i know that now,” he responds, guilt laced in his voice.
“what do you mean you ‘know that now’? you should have always known that. you wouldn’t tell sam or theo who they can date, would you?” she asks.
“no, i wouldn’t,” again, responding with a sad sigh, “i’m sorry y/n.”
“you better be. and you better start behaving like you are.”
“i will.”
“starting with buying me a new car,” she jokes, finally uncrossing her arms and smiling softly at him.
“catch yourself on,” he laughs back.
“it’s ok, god loves a trier - besides, i’m pretty sure lando offered to buy me one if he got podium.”
“on second thought, maybe i will buy you a new car.”
the two laughed together, an air of awkwardness still hanging between them. finally, he pushed himself off his chair, walking over to her and embracing her in a tight hug.
“im sorry y/n, im so sorry,” he mumbled into her ear.
“it’s ok max, i don’t think id be too impressed if you started fucking my friends either.”
“ew dont - dont talk about sex or you having it,” he shudders, “in my brain, you’re still 7 and shaving the heads of your barbies.”
“fine.”
“will you do me a favour?” he asks, sheepishly.
“depends.”
“can you and, him, you know, tone it down in front of me. just for a bit? just till i get used to it?”
“i didn’t intend on jumping his bones in front of you anyways, if that’s what you mean?” she jokes.
“y/n,” he groans in feigned annoyance.
“i’m sorry i’m sorry,” she apologises, holding her hands up in defence, the exact same way lando had earlier.
“you and him are probably a good match. you have the same personality. i think i just never wanted to admit it.”
“max fewtrell, stubborn? i never would’ve guessed.”
“i think it’s genetic.”
★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶
tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes @secretgal66 @ririyulife @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream @mehrmonga @eviethetheatrefreak @thatoneembarrasingmoment @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @formula1mount @lottef1 @rayna-s @5starl1ght @cthgee @thesiduation @urfavsgf @littlehoneyfreak
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sm-baby · 2 days
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WHAT'S NOT YOURS
Freakshow AU by: @hootbon
Promo Art ||The Chosen one (Part 1) || Off-Limits (Part3)
Word count: 6025
HELLO FREAKSHOWERS. ARE YOU READY TO KEEL OVER AND DIE??? CHLSKHCA Whats Not Yours takes place AFTER The Chosen One, but BEFORE Off-Limits! BUT they're not necessarily connected uwu they're just built off the knowledge of The Chosen one, so you know the context.
REMINDER: SHOWTIME IS NOT CANON IN FREAKSHOW AU. I'M JUST A BIG NERD- OK BYE-
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pomni woke up in a cold sweat.
Her breath hitched like her head had been forced 6 hours underwater. And when she came to, she gasped, gagged, sweating, and panicked. Her wooden fingers were cold to the touch. 
She thought it was all over, but her nightmares followed her into the mansion.  
All that… trauma… that man put her through, her friends… but it wasn't over. She didn't think she could ever escape his wretched grasp until her last death.
And in darkness, light only shining from the eclipse through the curtains, Pomni sat up, hands in her eyes, rubbing away invisible tears from her dry face. Although she wasn't crying, she felt like she was a child just wanting her stuffed toys to protect her. 
Upon sensing her stress levels, her new owner, blue in coat, teleported into her bedroom. “ Hello? Dear?” he spoke with his unnaturally soft voice. “ Is everything alright? I sensed your nerves heightened and I got so worried!” The deck of cards sat at her bed, hands politely to his lap, but ready to hold her if she so pleased.
The woman gasped a crying breath. “ N-No…”
“ You had that dream again?” 
Pomni nodded.
“ Was it about…him?”
She squeaked and whimpered at the mention, practically breaking down from the memory. Oh god. She thought it was all over, she thought it was done- but it was never done! it was never ever done—
“ Oh! You're okay…!” The blue ringmaster scooted over to bring her into his arms. His hands were so loving, warm, and just felt like home. His voice was similar to a man hushing a whimpering puppy.
And Pomni accepted the embrace… She trusted no one else but him in that god-forsaken place. Since she left the circus and signed up to be his little pet, everything has gone uphill since.
He was the only one to ever truly love her unconditionally. Feed her good food, dress her well … hell, he even provides her fancy new clothes and a warm comfortable room. And she loved him back. He was exactly all she needed. 
While in his arms, Pomni's breath shook but calmed down. She then leaned her head on his shoulder, not letting go. She never wanted to let go. She loved him as much as a performer could love her owner.
“ As long as you are under my ownership, you're also under my protection.” He pulled away, and put a clump of hair behind her ear. “ And I promise you, my little dear, you will never have to speak to that man again.”
Her breath hitched and she sobbed softly back into his arms, like if she were to let go she would fall to her death. She can't imagine living a life without him anymore. If she went back into the circus she would just try to kill herself over and over. 
But then, she was safe… now that he was there… he cared for her and tended to her every need like no other. He truly was the best.
“ I love you, dear..” Able whispered.
“ I love you t—”
Caine couldn't finish that thought.
For the past few hours, Caine had been standing there, in the middle of the circus tent, completely stationary. A few hours earlier he had yelled at the ballerina and saw her walk away a lot more hurt than usual.
And for the past few hours, Instead of using his infinite intelligence to maybe, be productive, or be functional, he instead wasted his processors to stupidly think of all the timelines and possibilities that came with the consequences of upsetting his little doll.
Why did she walk away like that. Hands on each opposite shoulder. Like she was holding herself. It wasn't even the fact that she looked weak—no, he'd seen her at her worst.
The way she walked away, her whole demeanor and her silence didn't feel like fear, it felt like she was simply… numb.
He exhaled and twitched.
Complete stationary and staring into nothing is what the AIs looked like when in deep thought. He searched through all the different timelines, and so many of them returned to… him. The ace he needed not name.
The images of him caring for her, her going to him for safety, feeding her, touching her, keeping her away from him-- or maybe even doing the things that he does! Dancing with her, clothing her, Instructing her next dances -- Caine’s eye twitched. He could hardly stand the idea of his little brother talking badly about him.
These were the kinds of intrusive thoughts that he was not used to. And for the moment, he didn't care how close they were to reality. his judgment was clouded. Now, all he was thinking about was a way to prevent it…
Let's see his options...
Kill him? No, he already tried that.
Kill her? No, she'll just come back.
Prevent her from seeing him? He's been doing that every time he sees them around each other!
His hands fidgeted.
Pomni was a human. What do you humans usually do after an argument?
Let's see here…
Pomni was fast asleep in bed, snoring her cares away. It was another hard day at the circus nothing new… Caine said something that day that especially hurt her, and… it was a reminder not to take the guy’s words personally. 
He was a computer built with nothing but random data. Violent data for sure, but there was nothing but objectives in AI-- no other rhyme or reason a human should dig into. 
For now, she cared for nothing but sleep…if she's lucky, she’ll think less about it in the morning. Sleep did help keep her sanity levels up… but if she were to be honest, a lot of the time she goes to bed in the hopes of never waking up.
Her closed eyes twitched though. To her horror, she was waking up. For what reason? She opened her eyes and adjusted to the darkness of her room. in front of her was nothing but the— 
“ AAAA WHAT THE FU-” Pomni fell off her bed.
Caine was sat, squatting at the foot of her bed, quiet and staring.
The doll pulled her head up from the floor and turned back to him. How long has he been there?? He hasn't said a word the entire time-- and- and- how did he get in without alerting her??? 
“ ... Are you slumbering?”
“ God I hope so!” Pomni held her head and onto the bed… “it's not .. show time is it?”
“ No.”
“ Oh. Good.”
Pomni, with a drowsy demeanor, took one of the stepping stools and made her way back to bed. if it wasn't time to entertain the audience then it was leisure time. If it was leisure time, it was time to let herself be miserable.
Though admittedly the silence that night was just a bit more awkward than usual— as it is when people just come back trying to be normal after a big argument. Pomni could barely look him in the eye despite his efforts.
“ So what uh… what brings—”
“I've come to make amends.”
The idea made her cringe. Caine? Making amends? Maybe she was dreaming. But the idea did scare her a little. What would a fucked up AI like him perceive as “ making amends”? She's sure he could make something as mundane as washing dishes a traumatizing experience. 
Pomni’s shoulders tensed and she did back away from him a little, holding her knees, sitting on her pillows.  “ Listen, Caine, Im tired… I guess j-just do whatever you need to do and get this all over with...” 
“ Approximately 5 hours 40 minutes and 16 seconds ago, I yelled at you because you have gotten very insistent in your ideals. I sense that you didn't take kindly to that action. And as one of my best performers I've taken it upon myself to make amends.”
Pomni just nodded along with what he had to say. And the more he spoke, the more tense she got, and the more she sunk into herself. She was waiting for it. The catch. She was practically holding her breath.
“ — So Pomni. Living doll, my star, and my dear, the Circus' greatest attraction…”
Pomni closed her eyes, bracing herself.
“ I ap…” Caine blue-screened and stopped in his speak, as if something physically stopped him from talking. He came back to, and cleared his throat. “ I apol…” before blue screening again.
Pomni perked up. She opened her eyes and looked over at him.
Caine was in hell. A far worse hell than any of the performers could ever experience.
It took him too much of his systems to say half the two-word sentence. Multiple attempts were made, some sounded like he was lagging, and some he stopped in his tracks to glitch out.
…No fucking way.
Pomni stared on with an almost disgusted look on her face. Was it taking THIS much out of him just to say sorry?? God, he was pretentious. Sometimes she questions if he truly was just code or a selfish jerk.
He looked down, hand gestured like he was holding the bridge of his nose. This was embarrassing at this point. He should have practiced. Maybe wording it differently would be easier? “I regret-- no. Not that one.” Dear GOD how do humans do this?
Admittedly it was just a little entertaining to see him struggle in a way. It was prolonging the apology for her. Also nice to see the bastard not only eating his own words but also choking on it as well.
“I apologize.” Caine muttered quickly.
“... Didn't quite catch that, Caine.”
“ You did.”
“ Fair enough.” She best not push her luck. She might be the only person the ringmaster has ever said sorry to, even when it was half-assed. Admittedly, it cheered her up, just not in the way that he intended.
Caine continued, still talking strangely. “ Will. you. ever… for. give. me.”
Pomni weighed her chances of survival for her next reply. She puffed out all the air from her chest “Well… why would I?”
“ I planned for that.” Caine flew from her bed and back in the air, making little magic tricks with his next words. “ What would you like? Food? A nice warm bath? A fire show? Money? A bouquet? fruit basket? A song and dance? Money?” 
Pomni blinked from his little show and rubbed her face. “ I-I think I just wanna go to bed, Caine…”
“ Not Applicable.”
“Oh.” He wasn’t gonna let this go huh? “ U-uh…” her tired, baggy, eyes looked down. Not that she complained, but the mannequins didn’t prepare her for bed that night. She was a lot dirtier when she went to bed and it was a little uncomfortable. “ I-I guess a nice bath would work…
“ Done.” Caine raised his hand to snap and-
“ Not with bubble though! Dear god, not with bubble-- uh.. Maybe just…me. Just- just leave me with a bathtub with towels or something?”
“Hmm…” The doll’s demands were getting quite pretentious. She was lucky he was feeling generous that day. “Done.” Caine carelessly put his hand on Pomni’s head--almost smacking her in the process-- which deserved a little flinch from Pomni. 
But the basic slap wasn’t for nothing, as one snap later-- Caine and Pomni would be transported to a lavatory. This time though, the tub was a little more luxurious than what she deserved. Instead of the old wooden tub that he just filled with water, this one was an actual bathroom. Ceramic with curtains and all.
“ Hmm…” Caine stared at it for a moment… Something’s missing… “ Ah!” He snapped, and candles and rose petals decorated the area.
“ Wh”
“ Perfect, I know, I’ve outdone myself.” He reached out and pinched Pomni’s cheek, later speaking in condescending speech “ Now you enjoy your time here because I promise you, Doll~ I do not want to put this much effort for anyone here again.”
“ Uh-”
“ Adieu!” and just like that, Caine was gone.
Pomni stared over at the fancy new setting, built like the old rich man’s bathroom. Although it was minimal, she didn’t know how to feel about the amount of effort put into it. She was fully ready to just drown herself in the other bathtub. On one hand, it was a nice relaxing sort of setting. On the other hand, no bone in her body was capable of relaxation anymore.
And so Pomni just stared with blinking, small eyes… The flowers, the candles. Maybe in the real world, this would have worked on her. But since she was here, she might as well try.
What Pomni didn’t know was that the lavatory was especially luxurious because it was part of the Brothers’ home. Caine simply deleted the door to get out. But when he teleported, he was only a wall away.
He fixed his coat and trailed his eyes on his good old wacky wat-... pocket watch. Ofcourse. His ol reliable golden pocket watch. Confirming the time, He walked and made his way around the Manor.
The living room played the sound of a classical violin. Despite rarely visiting anymore, his systems can recognize that mediocre tune from anywhere.
Click!
Shut…
“ Oh! Brother!” There stands Able much more chipper than usual after seeing his older brother. “ I had not sensed you in the area!”
Of course, he wouldn't.
“ Why-- it's been quite a while since you visited unprompted! Come, let us play a tune together, I'm sure you—”
“ No!” He replied with a tune in his voice, almost condescending in nature. “I've simply come to complete a simple task and I'll be out of your hair.” Caine sat on the couch putting his cane to the side, and for a moment, putting his feet up on the other knee. He looked like a man who just come from an exhausting day at work.
Able huffed internally at the rejection, but carried on anyway. Of course. The one time his brother visits, it's for work. Able wouldn't be one to talk as a fellow workaholic, but at least he acknowledges his brother, or takes his time to check up on him, or-- invites him to spend time together in special realms or…
He turned his nose, scoffing. Hmph! He didn't want to play with him anyway!
Caine somewhat knew what he was doing. Despite being AI, siblings merely barging into the other’s room to annoy each other wasn't lost on the two. Caine would know as his brother often visits the circus unannounced. It was quite the experience for him to get a taste of his own medicine huh?
Caine stifled a laugh… the tension in the room was immature and childish.
“ So… How is the business? Have the freaks been putting you in any sort of trouble?”
“ Of course not, why would you assume such a thing?” Caine said. “ The Circus has been doing perfectly well, even without you, brother.”
“ Excuse me?”
“ Have you been making deals with the performers? Contracts…promises of a safe haven maybe?”
Able frowned and pouted like an angry little boy, but then later put on a softly fake tone of voice. “ Why, Of course I have! I mean, look at the conditions they have to live with! I'm sure our creators would not approve of such—”
“ Who are you trying to fool?” Caine interrupted and Able stopped in his speech. Caine continued, “We're no different from our empathy levels. You don't care.”
This blatant call-out was met with nothing but silence. Able with all his big talk wasn't prepared to answer that sort of question. He simply turned away and put down his violin. He was a good AI. He was a good AI. 
Caine can't say that the silence was a satisfying answer. He knows his brother was a cowardly character. His silence was just frustrating at this point. But Able sensed that there was no use fighting. He doesn't know why he constantly wants that man’s approval. 
His voice dropped to a complete low, losing all sense of friendliness or masking. “... If this is about the doll, I didn't.” Able said, a spiteful tone to his voice. “ Before I make my deals, I at least need to build rapport with the performer. And frankly, brother, your little dog doesn't like me.”
“ …pff..” This managed a snicker out of Caine that he covered with a hand.
“ Wh-!? What is that!?”
“ “The dog doesn't like you”? ”
“ Yes!? And?!?”
Caine escalated into more of a laugh! Able was red in the face out of anger and embarrassment! Good GRIEF! The only time he makes his brother laugh and it's out of his own failures!
“ You're unbelievable!”
“ And what did the dog say to make you feel so insignificant? Did it try to bite you? Did it not accept your treats?” Caine has never been so condescending, playing with a baby voice and speaking to his brother as if he were a quivering child. “ Goodness, you're pathetic!”
“ Excuse you!?!” and Able’s only fault was that he played into it. He has never before felt the older brother power dynamic so strongly. He laughed, nervous, but almost like a hyena with how he used it as a defense mechanism. “ Ha! You— You're one to talk!”
“ I'm one to talk?”
“ Oh! ho ho! Don't get me started! Even since I met your little brat you've never been the same! It's all about ‘look at her new dress’ or ‘look at how much better she is’ over and over! Every single conversation I've had with you is nothing but work or that stupid little doll!”
Caine blinked, unamused, and looked to the side, reaching into his head like he was picking off food from his teeth. “ I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about.”
“ You--!! UGH!” he stomped his feet and started to make his way out the door. “ I will be away where you cannot track me! And frankly, brother, if you need me, you're not getting my help!”
“ And I don't need it~,” Caine said playfully and waved without even turning to him.
And with one last groan, Able teleported off.
As soon as Able was out of earshot, Caine erupted into laughter! That was the most entertaining thing he has ever pulled off. That might be the only good thing his brother has ever done to amuse him. Not only was he going to store that data and keep it for the foreseeable future, but it also kept his brother out of his tail.
Hmm… sure, he will have to tend to technical difficulties himself, but he was okay with that. He'll have Bubble chew through the wiring or something, he's sure it's not far from what Able’s been doing.
He laughed again. Oh Caine, you're too much, you handsome devil you~
Caine left his last chuckles off, completely melting into the sofa, arms draped onto the back of the couch. “ “The dog doesn't like him,” he says! Pahaha! Haa..”
Steam covered the bathroom mirrors. 
Rose petals passing, candle lights flickering, and The warmth of the water almost forced her to relax, but there was no amount of anything that could ever get her back to that mindset again. Instead, it just made her forget about her surroundings-- which, she supposed, was good enough.
Awkwardly sitting at the tub, Pomni was slouched, staring down at the water, her eyes following some flower petals that so happened to pass by. Her hair was done. Her body was washed. The rose petals that graced her wooden form decorated her romantic moment of self-care. Pomni sighed, long and tired. She could stay there forever. This is the closest semblance of peace she has ever really had.
Upon evenly spreading her limbs, Like a plank of wood, Pomni easily floated at the top. She closed her eyes and let the water take her. The warmth, not far from a loving bed waiting after a long day, here to ease headaches, here to help forget about everything else… Although she struggled, she let her body release all its tension at that moment, and just be deaf towards the world around her.
Pomni breathed in…
And out..
And in…
And out…
But just as she was about to reach the closest thing she had to relaxation, Pomni felt something off in the environment. Did the candles get warmer? Pomni squeezed her eyes closed in discomfort, before opening them up again to-
“ OH SHI—” in her panic, Pomni submerged into the water.
For the past few minutes, Caine had been floating horizontally above her. Silent, face inches away from hers, staring and watching just as he usually does when the performers were asleep.
Pomni screamed and fell into the bottom, before scrambling to the corner of the tub, where she then covered herself with a curtain.
“ Ah, good! You're alive.”
“ CAINE!!?!? NAKED???!?!?”
Caine blinked, unamused. Sure, he was in a good enough mood to amuse her. “ My dear, what exactly are you covering up?”
“ U-Uh…” Pomni didn't know how to answer. She knew that she and the others didn't exactly have any parts to cover up. Did it make it feel less embarrassing? Fuck no. “ I-its uh…”
he spoke more playfully as if speaking in the voice of a PSA narrator!  “ Exactly! Wood! The same wood as your fingers or the one on your cheek! The amazing Digital Freakshow© is a show for all ages where their performers have the luxury of no genitalia!” his voice went back down. “ —So what you're doing is utterly useless. And if it makes you feel better: I don't exactly care.”
This is weird-- this is weird! “ Just- just- just! Turn around?!?”
Caine rolled his eyes. He really took all that time to explain something to her, and it seemed she wasn’t even listening. Sighing, he turned around and just rested his arms on the outside part of the tub “ Please, you’ve suffered through worse, dear.”
“ I-It’s not suffering, It's embarrassing! I like to think I still have my dignity!” Although he was turned around, Pomni still kept at her corner “ Is my time done or? I-I mean… I’m not exactly ready to go out yet...”
“ Oh take all the time you need.” “Then Wh… Why- why are you here? “
“ I suppose you can say I’m a little unoccupied at the moment. On the added, I’m in a sort of good and affectionate mood.”
That sent a shiver down her spine. Good lord… oh no he was bored. She does not need to know what a fucked up AI would consider affection. She just smiled, gritting her teeth, and laughed nervously… “Ah ha ha… that's great, I’m… happy for youuu..” she continued her laughter, getting more and more miserable as she went back down in the tub, and submerged the lower half of her face in the water.
“ You did me well, dear.”
“ Wh-what- what did I do… take a bath?”
“ Precisely!”
Wow. She didn't think she was that dirty. She looked up and flinched, seeing Caine had been turned to her again— she splashed at him instinctually! “ Caine, what did I just say!?”
“ Oh no, I still cannot see you. I deleted my eyes for the time being.” Caine opened his mouth and revealed that he, in fact, did take off his eyes.
This sent a shiver down Pomni’s spine. He was creepier that way somehow.
“ As I said, you’ve pleased me today! I say this calls for a reward! Nothing less for my favorite little performer over here!” He poked her right in the cheek and retracted before she could react. “ Your word, dear!”
“ Uh… well…I can't really say no to salmon… even if it is uh… it's little weird digital version of itsel—”
Before Pomni could finish, Caine snapped his fingers and an eating board appeared on the tub, with, indeed, digital-looking salmon on a tray.
God, she was getting pampered pampered.
Eating awkwardly, Pomni sometimes looked at the side to see Caine, hands over the tub, swaying his head back and forth. Jesus, he might have been kicking his feet for all she knew. She wasn't used to him in this chipper of a mood.
“ May I see now?”
“ Uhhh… Why…?”
“ You came out beautifully, it's pleasing to the eyes. Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Pomni shivered at this little…playful demeanor Caine had on. She doesn't know the catch and she doesn't know if she wants to know.“ Yeah, Caine, you have. Uh…” She thought about it for a second before turning back to him. “ Y-Yeah, I guess… I mean I don't exactly remember what it's like having a human body, but lacking the parts does make it different uh--... less exposed, in a way… ” 
Snap!
“ Wonderful! Hello again, dear!”
Pomni frowned in disgust! Oh, his beady little eyes are back! Looking up at her like a fucked up little puppy! She laughed nervously. “ Haha… Hi…” She turned away from him, stiff, back to eating her little meal. Sanity levels were recovering. She was back to being a responsive little character.
Even so, at the corner of her eye, the way he looked at her, looked like he was smiling with his eyes. She sensed-- pride? Affectionate, as he said, but… she can't help but feel like a prey the way he looks at her.  If Caine wasn't kicking his feet earlier, they certainly were now.
“ Haha…just to clarify, what did I do …again?”
Caine stared on, his eyes becoming more and more affectionate. “ If you want the true answer, let's just say that I have visited my brother today and he has… nothing but good things to say about you! And so I thought my magnificent hard-working doll deserved a little reward. Is that so wrong?”
“ Oh him…” Pomni grits her teeth at the mention of Able. “ You… uh ... what did he say?”
Oh, what an excuse to drop every compliment he had for her… “ That you were gorgeous… pleasing design, talented... polite, beautiful eyes—”
“ AH- ahh! No more! Oh god no more.” Pomni shivered from the discomfort so much so that she physically put her hands in front of him to hush! “ Haha! No thank you-’
Caine couldn't even be mad at the interruption! In fact, he erupted into laughter the same way he did earlier! Oh, twice in a day?? These were such genuine reactions from each person! Caine had such genuine yet dark pompous laughter! “Oh?”
“ Yeah! he--” Pomni groaned. “He doesn't even scare me! He's just-- a big two-faced jerk!”
Caine took the hand Pomni used to interrupt him and kissed it by the knuckles. He has never felt so assured. This proved his intrusive thoughts earlier that day to be completely false. The idea of them building rapport, or forming a bond of any sort was completely debunked. After all, how could they form that sort of relationship when they could hardly stand each other's name mentioned in conversation?
Pomni forced a smile at that small but direct form of affection. He seemed to really like it when she talked smack about his brother. She should keep that in mind. “Yeah.. so uh..”
He kissed her knuckle once again… perhaps he liked it just a little too much. Truth was, Caine had never felt so secure in thinking that something was truly his. For once, anyhow. It was so small, but it was his.
Pomni later pulled her hand away, laughing nervously. He was gentle and she didn't trust it. “ You uh…weren't lying when you said you were feeling affectionate…”
“ No one will ever believe you.”
“ Ah.”
After a while, Pomni prepared to be out the bath, wrapping a towel around her hair and around her figure.“ Okay, I think that's all. I-I think Im ready to go now if you don't m-woAHH-!” And in quick succession, Caine carried her bridal style, teleported her out of the bathroom, and back to her bedroom.
For the next hour or so, Pomni sat in at her vanity, Caine grooming her hair from behind. At that moment, he adored dressing her up. His own personal doll, his favorite little toy. Gently he brushed her hair, sneaking in little affections here and there: holding her shoulder, holding her face… he knew exactly where all this sudden affection came from and he so shamelessly indulged in it. After all, who was there to judge him? The little freak he was brushing? The wet little dog? Please.
At that moment, he was no different from a child dressing up his favorite toy. He snapped, picking from an assortment of clothes that would make her look beautiful while she slumbered. Snap! Snap! snap! And Pomni just let it all happen. After all what else could she do?
After a while, Caine stood her up and basked in his good work, looking her up and down and clapping in satisfaction. “ Beautiful. Now bow,” Pomni did as instructed, bowing as if she had just finished a performance. “Very good.”
Once again, Caine carried her in his arms and made his way to the bed, where he so gently placed her. He was playing with dolls. He was so playing with dolls. Pomni just complied as she always did and sat politely, keeping a calm expression, trying to be as neutral for him as possible, and letting him live out his little fantasy.
Before laying her to bed, Caine just took a few more minutes to stare at her, and nothing else. Just admire his best performer. This put Pomni in unease, not just because of his freaky design, but also because she can’t help but feel like she’s missing something somehow. She looked down when she felt him touching her hand, in particular, rubbing his thumbs at the back of it.
Hoping she read his signs correctly, she lifted her hand towards his mouthy face, almost permitting him such desires.
Caine quickly accepted her suggestion and started pressing his teeth on her knuckles in a way to kiss her. It started with one, and another, and another, and another. And the next thing he knew, he stopped counting and started moving his head up to her upper arm.
Pomni allowed this no matter how out of nowhere it was. It was weird, but she did not question it. She felt him start to nibble at her though in which she-- in a panic-- started to retract.
Caine looked up at the sudden rejection and the woman scrambled to find her words. “ U-Uh… Y-Your kisses are sweet, dear ringmaster, but a simple doll such as I am undeserving.” In times like these, Caine would be too deep into his fantasies to care about how real she was being. In his head, he was playing. They were both playing. And he loved it when she played off such a prestige woman, exactly how he liked it.
He whispered back sweet words of grandeur. “ Do you question the taste of a king? I think of no one else more deserving.”
Although she didn’t back away fully, she leaned away a few inches, praying it wasn’t noticeable. She bore a toothy, nervous smile. She was okay baring with his affections until he brought his teeth into it. She did not want to be dinner after all that preparation. She cleared her throat. “Ah…Pray tell, what did the king see in this little… doll?”
“ A flower is most beautiful when taken cared of.” He held her cheek and kissed the opposite. “Let it be known, my care for you was not without motives. Your beauty is a testament to my hard work. And your care is a testament to your belonging to me.”
Belonging to him, he said… He was… so incredibly fucked up, she couldn’t say anything about it. When he was on his way to bite her arm, in her panic, she diverted it and kissed his gums, which, to him, was the equivalent of kissing his cheek.
The ringmaster blinked in confusion and Pomni took his moment of processing to cringe at the feeling of his melted gums on her lips. She felt goosebumps with how gross that was but quickly turned her head back to fake a smile.
But Caine broke character for a moment.“ Did you just. Take initiative?” 
Shit.
That was so strange. As if he hadn’t known that was an option.
She cleared he throat, trying to distract him again. “Is it so wrong of me to return the ringmaster’s affections?” She batted her eyes, making her feel as small as possible. “ A woman cannot resist such a… ” Pomni looked him up and down “... dentures.” 
She panicked with that one.
He stared at her for longer, and the grip on her hand tightened, though, it seemed he did not notice. Although he was unsure if he enjoyed the act or not, he knew what it meant. And the day that he was okay with someone else receiving it is the same day hell freezes over. With a small scowl, He leaned his face inches close to her, as he has always done time and time again.“ Would you reserve such affection for your ringmaster, and just your ringmaster?”
“Of course.” She lied through her teeth.
Caine continued to speak but with a bit more grit in his voice. He leaned so close to her in bed, he had to support one hand on her back, as if dipping her in a dance. “ And will you, my dear, solemnly swear that you’ll live the rest of your existence devoted and serving me?”
The woman kept her calm demeanor. A small smile, but a fake one. She can’t say yes to that. But with her compromising position, she couldn’t say no either. “ Would you promise the same for me?”
Caine was quiet, and so was she. He furrowed his teeth a bit frustrated and let her go. It seems he couldn’t say yes to that either, and Pomni knew.
“... That wasn’t your line.” Caine sat up, and crossed his arms like a pouting little boy.
Pomni faked a surprised face. “ There was a script? Geez, oh man, my bad!” she later faked a yawn. “ Wow, would you look at that I’m also, uh, sleepy! So it seems I can’t finish the uh-.. This”
“ You, “ Caine pointed his cane at her the same way a gunman would point a rifle “ Are being difficult.”
Pomni, in response, just panicked and shrugged. “ Well, I-”
“ But I suppose you’re right, it is quite late.  I wouldn’t want you attending the shows tired… again.” Caine got off the bed and floated off. He snapped, and the blanket draped over Pomni, drowning her in the bed sheets. “ Sleep tight, dear! It’s another day tomorrow, etc. etc. I will be visiting you a little earlier tomorrow to fix you a new wardrobe.” 
“ Wh-?? Then what’s with the-???” she gestured towards her current clothes that he so meticulously chosen out. 
Caine laughed. “ Oh don’t be silly!  Those were for my eyes only! And-- the audience’s if they so pleased. But for now, it's mine.” Caine snapped his fingers and Pomni was back to her normal ballet dress, but more plain and comfortable, but equally pleasing to many eyes.
“ …ARE YOU KIDDING M-”
“ Good night!”
SHUT!
Caine left with a small smile on his face. Sometimes he finds joy in being a bit of a nuisance. He pulled out his hand watch once again and found that it alerted him about errors within the system. 
She scoffed and summoned an old-timey rotary dial. 
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
“ You’ve reached Able.AI’s communication line! If you are an audience member or a performer: requests and complaints will be held off due to family emergencies. If you're my foul, besotted, temperish, fool of a brother: don’t call this line again! Thank you!” 
… Despite how ridiculous that was, Caine couldn’t help but chuckle. Ohh that was the cherry on top of that perfect day. Nonetheless, Caine AI, you have technical difficulties to tend to. Was today worth all the extra work? Yes. Yes, it was.
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accio-victuuri · 2 days
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okay, you know what, i will talk about it now before i get buried in watching the show and editing. plus i also work to do lol. anyway, what cpfs are screaming about is this portion of the live stream where the host said : wish the both of them can stand side by side on top of the snowy mountain ; referring to the characters on the show, wei ruolai and shen tunan. it’s actually fine of you think about it, this saying is not all exclusive to bxgs and bjyx. maybe she was just saying it since it applied to the conversation and her hopes for the characters.
but what gets us 👀
1. the host’s reaction lol. how she went out of frame like she is embarrassed or maybe realized what she said. but i don’t think it was said with malicious intent. i hope she doesn’t get attacked.
2. WANG YIBO’S SMILE WTF. Dude. I’m out here poker face-ing my way when this was said but he was all obvious and 😏😏😏 like he knows and appreciates what was said. he was smile-y and sort of talkative and gracious in the live, but this smile was something else. it was so freakin sweet! helppp! he is not making it easier for us. you can say he appreciates it and that’s why he smiled but this is someone who definitely knows what that phrase means and it’s relation to him. cpfs took light signs of that phrase in CQL fanmeets and beyond — so it’s not impossible for him to understand. and remember that TTXS episode? he said that phrase too. lol.
for all the insinuation ( from haters ) that he doesn’t appreciate cpfs or even his time during cql, this smile says different. no words are needed. and that’s what yibo is as a person, he is more about actions.
3. IQIYI deleted this part in the playback of the live. LOL. they are saying it has to be removed because the line is from CQL, trademarked by Tencent. but i have a different take. they don’t wanna anger some people — a lot of them, watching the show. they don’t want a cotti coffee incident. it’s fine. i’m not gonna argue with toddlers who frequently have tantrums. i’m gonna be the adult here and let it be. 😌😌😌
i hope this doesn’t go on HS. i would rather this one below stay up, just to avoid drama.
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we know the truth, we always did. thankful for this very sweet candy from our captain today and will continue to support WoF. 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
并肩于雪山之巅 // stand side by side on top of the snowy mountain // BJYXSZD ❤️💛💚
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writingcold · 2 days
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Hello!  Welcome to Chapter 5 of CD&FE.  
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Pairing: Jake X Female Reader 
Summary: This is an AU that starts with the release of GVF’s first EP, Black Smoke Rising, and follows along life paths over the course of twenty plus years.  More life happening without each other.     
Content warnings: Language, smoking, drinking, adulting? Mentions of sexual situations, no smut in this chapter either.
Word Count: approx. 5.1K 
@edgingthedarkness and @takenbythemadness thank you ladies.  For all of it and everything.  💚
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CD&FE, Part 5.1: Her POV
     The metro area of the Twin Cities is home to many beautiful parks and green spaces that meander along the Mississippi River.  I had found myself unpacking boxes in my new kitchen overlooking the river along a stretch in the historic district.  The loft apartment had come open and had caught Frankie’s eye immediately.  It was close to his university and it was close to my office.  Somehow it made sense to move in since we had invaded each other’s spaces so much that it made no sense to keep up with two places.
      “You doing okay up there?”  I yelled out as I was setting up stemware to hang in the cabinet of the whet bar.
      There was no answer.  I turned down the volume on my phone and asked again with a little more volume.  Still, Frank gave no answer.  Finishing up the wine glasses, I set the empty box on the stack to break down before walking through the long living room and up the spiral staircase.  I found him standing at the window, eyes frozen on the river.  I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and stepped close.
      “You okay?”  I asked, pressing my cheek to the back of his shoulder.
      He placed one of his large hands across my wrist and gave a little squeeze.  “Just daydreaming.”
      “Oh yeah?”  I sighed as I melted a bit against him.
      “I know marriage is off the table,”  he said, tone full of warmth, “but what about something else.  Something for just the two of us.”
      “Well, we have this home.  We have us-”
      “Y/n.  I’m talking about a commitment to us.  Something formal.”
      I breathed in deeply.  I loved him.  Our relationship was steady and filled so much of me.  But marriage scared the fuck out of me.  It was not something that I wished for - not even as a little girl.  All the friends would pretend to be beautiful brides with elaborate ceremonies and giggling fits over what happened that night.  Hell, even Patrick would volunteer to be the groom and wear his ugly tux t-shirt and pretend to kiss the girls.  Ick.  I just never needed any of that.  Even when my friends started to get married, it just did nothing for me.  
      “After buying this place,  do you doubt my commitment?”  I asked drifting away from him and feigning interest in the closet.
      “No.  Not at all.  Even if we didn’t buy this place, I would not doubt it,”  he answered, scratching at the beard on his cheek.  “It wouldn’t change anything - not between us if you didn’t want to, but I just have this desire.  Something that is meaningful for us.”
      I frowned at the notion.  I know, I know.  Selfish, but I just didn’t understand the sudden shift.  The night previous, we were fucking in every niche and corner of the apartment to make it all our own.  Puffing out my cheeks I decided that it wouldn’t harm anything to perhaps continue the conversation.
      “What kind of thing are you talking about?”  I asked, sitting down on the corner of the bed.
      “There’s so many different ways to show commitment, love,”  he said, finally turning from the window to look at me.  “Handfasting would be lovely.”
      “Does it mean that we dress up and stand in front of all of our friends, and it costs a ridiculous amount of money to sign a paper?”
      “Boy, someone is jaded,”  he teased.  
      I instantly threw up my defenses.  “Come on, I don’t-”
      “I’m teasing.”  He caught me by my hands and tugged me closer, though I tried to fight a bit.  “It could be as simple as just us - no one else has to be involved.  We just write our words out that we mean to say to the other.  If you want to dress up fancy, you can.  Hell, I’d be more than happy to have you there in those gross sweats and flops.”
      At the sound of his laugh, I relaxed.  I knew he was looking for a more outward show of commitment.  I parted from him with a ‘I’ll think about it’, and it wasn’t lost on me that it was a rather romantic notion.  I spent the better part of an hour trying to unpack books and albums and pieces of memories that would look good on display.  My hands paused on the Deep Purple Gatefold.  It had been ten months since I had seen him during the pre-show meeting.  Billie had recovered and taken back control of the account and everyone went about their merry way.  
      I had avoided anything dealing with the band and even more importantly, Jake.  I threw my whole focus into my relationship with Frank and of course, work.  The job was taking another turn and growing all the more for it.  I had insisted on keeping some contact with editing and creating, but was finding myself more and more in the wining and dining of new clients.  It was fine.  Way more glamorous than I ever was, but new accounts meant more business.  
      I found myself unable to sleep a few nights after the last box was unpacked and discarded.  Frank was deep asleep.  I slipped out of the bed and wandered down to the kitchen for a cup of chamomile tea.  The night was warm and thick with pending storms.  I watched from the sliding doors, not wanting to deal with the security code that I seemed to forget about at least three times a week.  The lights of the bridges across the river rippled gold and silver on the murky water.  It was beautiful.  The constant strum of traffic and the stirrings of life was always welcomed, even beyond the glass I was staring through.  
     I tucked myself at the dining table with my laptop.  Work was not what was calling to me.  Frank's words about handfasting - whatever the hell that was - was prickling in the back of my skull case.  I took a sip of tea and started searching for the ceremony, digging deeper and deeper.  At first I was panicked that it was part of a wider wedding ceremony, but finally landed on the fact that it was just the piece that he was talking about.  It was a lovely concept that could be tailored to just us.  
      “Caught you,”  he said sleepily from behind me.
      I grimaced in surprise.  I was holding fast to my chest as he dropped a kiss to the top of my head.
      “Why are you up?”  I grumbled as I started to reach for the laptop in an attempt to hide what I was looking at.
      “I discovered my love was missing,”  he answered with a smile.  I knew he had seen it.  “I like that you’re looking at that.”
      No point in being coy as he moved into the kitchen for a glass of water.  I shrugged and wrapped my hands around my mug.  “What about it?”
      “Isn’t that what I should be asking you?  Did you like what you found?”  he asked, leaning his lean frame against the counter like a damn model.  
      I couldn’t really hide, so instead decided to be open.  “It was interesting…”
      I watched as his eyebrows raised and lowered with thought.  I wasn’t giving him enough.  I knew I wasn’t.  Clearing my throat, I set my cup aside and found my feet.
      “I liked the idea that we could do this just for us.”
      “Yeah?”
      I nodded.  “I understand that you want this to be more so to show your commitment to us.  I love you for it, too.”
      “But.”
      “But nothing.  I think we should do it.”
      The smile that lit his features made my breath stutter.  My beautiful man was all messy hair and flustered at two in the morning.  His excitement was easy to catch myself in.  He started talking about the cording and creating our own bindings.  We planned it out right then and there - because that’s what we were.  We would then secretly celebrate it calling it a housewarming party.  Perfect.
      True to tradition, we selected the color of our bindings according to the meanings of specific colors.  We decided to create our own cords, based on our commitment to each other, then twist them together.  The first day of May found us on the roof terrace overlooking the river.  Frank had poured us two very expensive glasses of wine while I found a pretty playlist for the afternoon.
      “Where do you want to start?”  I asked simply, my heart pounding clear out of my chest.
      I was fingering my cord as I held it tightly behind my back, hoping like crazy that it would be up to his expectations.  God, it was just the two of us and it still felt like there were a few hundred people watching.  He bent and kissed me, robbing me of my stabbing thoughts.
      “How about we share our bindings?”  he said, taking his out of his back pocket.
      I held mine out with a heavy sigh.
      “What was that?”
      I was finding myself swept over a tide of emotions that I did not expect.  My chest felt like it was full of fire while my throat was coated with concrete.
      “Baby, it’s okay.  Just us here.”  He trailed his fingers across my cheek.  “Do want me to go first?”
      I nodded my head mutely as my eyes totally betrayed me.
     His warm laugh filled me with all the more feelings.  I let out a stupid sob as he wiped at the ridge of my cheek.
      “I picked red for passion.  You have shown me nothing but passion in so many parts of you that are important.  Your work, your life, your thoughts and beliefs are so full of this passion that it’s hard to not think of you without passion being involved.
      “Next was blue for devotion.  You make loving you so easy that it is hard not to imagine myself being devoted to our life together.
      “Gray is for balance.  You showed me that I don’t have to be so serious - all the time.  There is a balance to our life together.
       “Pink to show you that we can have romance.  Silver to let you know that you are treasured.  And finally, purple - this relationship is sacred to me.”
       I cursed softly as I wiped at my face.  He just smiled his perfect smile, holding the three feet of cord before me.  I swallowed hard and held mine up.
       “Black, green, gold, brown and white,”  I struggled through these stupid words.  No way I could be as poetic as him, but he was smiling the whole time.  Those eyes encouraged me to continue.  I let out a groan as I practically danced from foot to foot.  “Strength, health, longevity, grounding, and peace.  Everything that I hope we can share.”
       I sucked in a huge breath like I was about to stumble into a panic attack.  He leaned down and captured my mouth in a kiss.  He whispered his love as he twisted the two cords together and took my hand in his.  I watched full of sniffles and jagged breath as he wrapped our joined cords around our hands.  I have to admit, in hindsight, it was beautiful.  And it was just ours.  
      “Until this love ends,”  he whispered.
      I nodded as he cradled my face.  He snapped a picture of the moment and we carried on, getting ready for our party.  Patrick was the first to arrive with Sidney in tow.  They were lovely as they filled our space with the warmth that all them.  The housewarming was a success.  Pat felt for sure something was up, but he dropped it when I finally just immersed myself in some conversation with Sidney that he found too boring to participate in.  
       In the night’s stillness, we made love until we were both complete messes of each other.  He sacked out so completely that he did not realize that I was once again slipping out of our bed, unable to sleep.  This time, a cup of hot chocolate was my comfort and my laptop was open to the main screen.  There was a scrap of betrayal in my heart that was pulsing.  Grinding at me like a virus that needed to be addressed before it delivered a murdering strike.  
      I pulled up my socials page.  There were notifications from all sorts of friends, and on the professional side, those from contacts around the world.  I ignored them.  I tapped my fingers to the trackpad in debate.  I had awoken because the shadow of him had strayed into my slumber.  The shade of old love lay stoked in a fold of my heart that I was sure had been gone.  But it wasn’t.  I found myself on Jake’s private page, frowning that I was still allowed to be in such a space.  But there he was.  The array of pictures of him and his family and her was astounding.  I felt like I was trespassing.  He was happy.  Every picture was that genuine joy that just radiated out of him like a beacon.  I found myself wondering if he ever married the girl, but there was nothing regarding a wedding.  
       Feeling like a stalker, I closed out and shut everything down.  I missed him.  The absolute polarizing moment that felt like my entire self was being shredded in two - I was so in love with Frank.  He got me.  Held me.  Elevated the idea of us.  I could only imagine the awful hurt that he would feel if he knew I clung to this tiny shred of love that was never to be.  What more, if he would ever find out that that love I held for Jake burned brighter than anything he could ever share with me, I’m sure it would be the end of me.  Fuck.  I felt myself crumble a bit under the weight of my own self hatred.
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CD&FE, Part 5.2: Jake’s POV
      “I’ll be right back,”  she said, pointing towards the bathroom.
      The airport was beyond busy.  I sat down with a heavy plunk and the sigh that followed was filled with weariness.  I wanted to be anywhere but heading out to Portland for yet another one of her friends’ gallery openings.  It was great - don’t get me wrong.  It was just literally us getting back from Sydney and jumping right on a plane without getting home to try to shift to changing time zones.  We weren’t in our twenties anymore.  We had just wrapped another tour, this time actually making it all the way around the planet.  It had taken every bit of time for two years, but we did it.  
     Clara had lived through every time change, every plane trip, every bus misadventure - everything with me.  All the while she had accepted the isolation and the absolute chaos that went along with being on tour.  She somehow found the time in those long stretches of me being busy to wander.  Her painting was really beautiful, and seemed to evolve as each month and each destination passed us by.  She never complained.  She never seemed to lag behind or want to return to Nashville and her studio.  In all honesty, I was concerned that we could not flourish under such conditions, but somehow, we were doing just fine.
      Except for at that moment in the Nashville Airport, it was absolutely packed due to weather delays.  My head was throbbing and my patience had been worn beyond thin.  I noticed that she was gone for quite some time when I started to look around to see if perhaps she made her way to a kiosk or was just walking to stretch her legs.  A fan stopped with a look on her face and I was happy to oblige with a quick picture.
      I started to scroll through my phone in hopes that perhaps Clara had found coffee or some form of super caffeine to power through this sludge of jet lag.  I responded to texts from Josh and Mom.  I checked the socials to find that Danny had posted up pictures of his boys playing on dad’s kit.  I grinned at the auburn haired boys in their feral joy.  
      “Hey!”  Clara called out as she was practically running towards me.  “Grab our stuff.  You’ve got to see this!”
      The excitement was just roiling off of her.  Her smile was beaming as she was grabbing at my hand to rush back the way she came.  Her words were pouring out, most of which were lost due to the noise around us, but she was definitely chirping about seeing something while stretching her legs.  She tugged me all the way back to the shops, stopping in the window of one of those stores with all the decor and little trinkets.  There were poster prints framed along the upper walls.  Clara was pointing up towards the top and was practically bouncing.
       “It’s so strange to see something of mine here!”  she said, her frame bounding with excitement.
      Indeed it was one of her pieces she had done a few years prior when we were in Scotland.  It was rough and wild and muted and perfect.  
      “That’s amazing, babe,”  I said as I wrapped my arms around her.  
      It was not the first time we saw her work someplace, but any time we saw it, it solidified that she was truly a professional artist, not just a hobbyist.  We bumbled back to wait for our flight, which finally made it out only four hours later.  Portland came quickly after falling asleep on the plane.  I fought my own self to drag my body off the plane and not be grumpy about it.  At least the hotel was close by.  
      Clara was all full of energy.  I was not.  I might’ve been a bit of a dick about it.  She had already been on the phone with the friends to meet up at a bar.  I knew, however, the moment my feet entered our room, there was no leaving it.  At least not that first night.  She called me old, but you know, I didn’t care.  At least we didn’t argue about it.  She was cleaned up, changed and out the door before I could fully figure out that I really didn’t need to be in public.  
     I wandered down and found a few beers to drag back to the room with what looked like some kind of sandwich.  Perfect.  I chewed my food mindlessly as I scrolled through my feeds.  Somewhere in the course of beer number two, I landed in less familiar territory.  I found myself looking into Y/n’s page.  It had been close to a year since I had last found myself anywhere near her sphere.  It had been nearly five years since the last time I saw her in person.  She looked good.  Beyond good.  She looked happy.  It looked like she was still with the same guy.  Imagine my surprise when she posted up a picture of her hand being held by him with a cord wrapped around it.  I had no clue what it was supposed to mean.  I finally had to look it up only to find that I wanted to vomit.  She was pretty much married to this man - something she had proclaimed to never truly desire.
      I tossed the phone onto the night stand with a curse.  She was happy.  That was all that counted.  I was happy with Clara.  Things were beginning to wear thin on the whole engagement front.  It was really getting old to have the folks question when they could expect us to either show up married or invitations.  Her family was scattered, but the friends were beginning to question if I would ever really commit.  Some voices were louder than others.  But Clara, herself, was beginning to lean towards making it official.  There was a piece of me that just resisted.  I was sure this was the part of me that was still dedicated to the idea that I would finally land in a place where Y/n and I would be together.  It was juvenile hope that drove that desire, but it was there.  Rooted deep in the shadows that Clara just couldn’t reach with all of her sunshine.
      To see Clara in her element was something special.  The night of the gallery opening, we were there, dressed well and champagne in hand as she glided through business partners, friends, and colleagues alike.  She had several commissions that she had been working on that were coming to a close soon.  It was like watching a bird on a branch that was ready to take flight.  She was so talented and unique.  Her nature spilled out into every stroke of her art.  Sometimes, I wondered if she was putting her literal spirit into the paint.  At some point in the show, I found myself off to the side in a darker corner, alone.  There were people around her that I had no idea who they were or what they wanted from her.  And I was fine in my little corner.  I did the partner thing - smiled and waved whenever her gaze turned to mine when she needed reassurance.  Eventually, though, I found myself alone completely.  Her friends were nowhere to be found and Clara was gone.
      I couldn’t help the pang of anger until I dug my phone out to see I had the Do Not Disturb on.  When I turned it off, I was quick to hold my hand over the speaker to dampen down what seemed like a million notifications.  Finally a text had come in that Clara was discussing a show in Chicago with a gallery owner who was quite taken with her collection.  She said to head back to the hotel if I wanted to.  
     Wow.  Dismissed.
     I didn’t like the feeling that washed across me.  I landed in the hotel bar drinking a double bourbon and feeling sorry that I was sitting on that ugly assed stool in that ugly assed bar.  I knew I was being stupid.  This was basically what Clara did all of the tour - waiting.  Waiting for those few hours each day that we could be together uninterrupted.  I could at least extend her the same kindness.  Honestly, though, through the jet lag and the lack of courtesy, I just felt slighted.  
      Up to the room and I once again landed face first into the socials, staring at that picture of Y/n with a short description of what she said was handfasting.  Hurt.  She hurt me each time she would not accept my love for her.  She hurt me with a show of ability to formally love some other man.  Did it squelch the spark that lingered in my soul that was only for her?  No.  God that woman fucked me up in ways no one else could.
       We were in Portland for three more days.  I spent most of the time buried in the bed at the hotel.  Clara was apologetic, but it was work.  Her work.  When we finally reached home in Nashville, it was quiet.  She was in her studio working.  I spent time with the family, and she was working.  I flew up to Michigan to spend some time with the parents, and she was working.  She was really on the precipice of something big and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to step in the way.  I allowed her that space just as she allowed me mine when I was working.
       We were off for eight weeks.  I had eight weeks to write.  With Clara in her own space, I worked with Danny and Sam dusting off a few projects that we had set aside.  I can’t lie, I was feeling a bit of distance between us when it came time to start the festival circuit for the summer.  It was the first time that she stayed behind.  Her opening in Chicago was the last weekend of July.  I promised that I would get a ticket and be there as it happened to be on an off day in between shows.  We were supposed to be in Denver for the start of one festival on a Friday and heading to New Jersey to finish another on Sunday; so really, the events were thankfully lining up right.  No way I would miss that show.  Her big debut.
       I had not been alone on tour in years.  It felt odd.  Sam had brought his whole family since the kids were off for summer vacation.  Danny, too.  Josh and his partner were thick as thieves with their small brood.  And I was alone.  I struggled.  Clara and I tried to connect over video calls and texts.  Late night phone calls did not work as she was either still working or dead asleep from hours of work.  I fought my own selfish need for her to be with me.  To watch my nieces and nephews tear around like we did when we were little made me feel a little removed.  I loved playing with them.  I loved being Uncle Jake.  However, knowing that I had only myself at night while my brothers had the love of their families so close - hurt.
     July had come storming through.  We had criss-crossed all over, soaking up the summer crowds.  I was busy.  Somehow, Denver arrived and I had forgotten to purchase my own ticket to get to Chicago.  I had been saying for weeks that I was going to get a ticket.  Each conversation with Clara, I was literally looking at airlines, and yet, I never purchased said ticket.  The day before the show, I was talking with Josh about the debut.  I was proud, showing off pictures that she had shared with me of what had been selected to be featured in her show.  Mom had called earlier in the week.  Her and Dad were already in Chicago, taking the opportunity to visit family there before showing their support for their almost-daughter-in-law.  I was so caught up in the shows and little things that I simply forgot to get my ticket.
       The night of the Denver show, I was on the phone while waiting for sound check.  One of the assistants took pity on my stupidity and offered to help.  After our check, he returned to me with a few options, all were just impossible.  One option was to fly to LAX first before Chicago.  Another was to fly to Pittsburg then back to Milwaukee with a car rental.  There was a private flight on one of those death traps, but my gut threatened to vomit all over the place just with the thought of being on one of those things.  I could also rent a car - and try to make the fourteen hour drive.  I was fucked.  The best I could do was fly standby.
      “I don’t understand.  I thought you had the ticket purchased,”  Clara said, her voice thin on the phone.
      I was shoving everything into my backpack as fast as I could.  It was seven in the morning and I had a cab waiting for me downstairs.  I was going to sit in that airport and force my way on any flight heading to the Midwest.  I would make it.  I could hear the stress in her tone.  I could hear the disappointment between her unspoken words.  I texted her when I scored a flight to Rapid City.  From there, I’d be on standby, but it was more likely to get me to Chicago before the end of the show.  I would be there.  No matter what.
      I didn’t hear from her.  I knew she was probably beyond pissed off with me.  I had been careless.  I got to Rapid City and found myself stuck.  Storms to the east across Minnesota had stalled my trek.  I could fly back to Denver and hope for the best.  Really?  
      “It was a noble try, Jake,”  Josh said, just before the chaotic mass of Kiszkas and Wagners were boarding the flight to Newark.  “Just get your ass here and you’ll have to sort it out later.  I’m sure Clara will understand.”
      “This was her fucking debut!  I can’t miss this.  She expects me to be there,”  I barked loudly.  
       He was right.  He knew it.  I knew it.  Our obligation was to get our asses to the next show.  It was thirty minutes until her opening when I called.  She didn’t want to hear it.  She knew that I tried but was too busy with her task at hand.  She said she would explain it to my parents before she hung up.  
       Exhausted, I surrendered to a red eye flight to Newark, but had a stop in Minneapolis.  My heart gasped with a deep ache.  It was hard not to feel that it was Fate poking a five pound block of salt in the wound.  Bitch.  
       I didn’t make it to New Jersey until somewhere around five in the morning the day of the show.  Management scolded me, but sent a car around to pick me up.  I slept a few hours before hitting the stage before a crowd of 40,000 people.  I wondered if anyone noticed that I was off that night.  I swear my chest was flayed open for any and all to see how I had fucked up.  
      I tried to call before and then after the set, but Clara didn’t answer.  I called Mom and she gushed how good the show was and how impressive Clara had been.  I knew that she would handle it with grace, but…
      “She’s angry,”  I said, allowing myself to feel my own disappointment.
      “Clara’s got all the right in the world to be angry with you,”  she responded in between talking with Dad.  
       “I can’t fix it, can I, Mom?”
       “I’m not sure, honey,”  she answered truthfully.  “All you can do is show her that you still love her.  That she’s your center, Jacob.  Time will make it up.  Just means you have to try harder at her next showing.”
      I flew home the next day.  Everyone else had a week to spend with the families before a show in Toronto.  I found her in our room with her bags packed and boxes waiting to be filled.  I really had fucked it up beyond repair.
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😐  I know.  Just hang in there.  Next posting is messy.  I mean, messier than this one.  
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poppadom0912 · 14 hours
Text
Her father's daughter
Warnings: Kidnapping, crying, canon-typical injuries, blood
Summary: When all is well, someone just has to barge in and ruin Will and Faith's lives.
A/N: Soo, I am back more than a month later. I didn't mean to disappear for so long... It will happen again i am sorry. This Ramadan has come with more work and I have exams in two weeks that i refuse to fail. I will most likely return at the end of april/beginning of May.
i've been thinking about writing this for a while because of how much I love Faith but I didn't want to hurt her but then I thought, no one can turn down some good old angst. Sorry again for being mia for nearly another month but randomly wrote this all in one sitting after doing some psychology and having an existential crisis soooo. This is going to be a little longer than usual, happy reading!!
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Will was at work when it happened.
He was getting ready to assist Connor in a surgery when he got a call as they were scrubbing in.
The part-time nanny he hired was now basically considered family over the two years she'd been looking after Faith whenever she wasn't in school and Will was at work. So to have her calling him at work was odd but when he answered her call and was immediately met with tears and gasping and hyperventilating, Will felt his heart stop.
Will wasted no time. simply telling her he was on his way before hanging up.
Connor, without hesitation, encouraged Will to leave, saying he'd find Goodwin and tell her himself.
As soon as Will was in his car, the first person he called was a no brainer.
Whenever Will called, Jay would always come running, day or night for his older brother and niece, consequences be damned.
Will found himself struggling when Jay answered, grappling for words he couldn't muster.
"What's wrong Will?"
"Faith's gone Jay... Someone's taken her."
*****
The brothers met up at Faith's school, Will arriving before Jay.
The second Will got there, Allison, the nanny, found him instantly. She ran up to him in tears, hysterically crying as if it was her own child that was taken.
"Will I'm so sorry." She gasped, on the edge of a panic attack, eyes impossibly red as she hyperventilated, tears showing no sign of stopping any time soon.
"They- Reception said a woman picked her up in Maggie's name three hours ago-" She cut herself off with a sob. Poor women was a mess, seeing her so distraught made Will want to cry along with her.
"Allison, please listen." Will said sternly, holding her shoulder so she would pay attention to him. "None of this is your fault, okay? If it wasn't for you, it would've been another two hours before someone found out."
She exhaled shakily, nodding fervently when Will pressed her to stop apologising and accept she was at no fault, there was no reason for her to take any blame.
Before either could say anything more, the sound of sirens scared them, making both of them jump at the sudden loud sound.
At the sight of familiar cars, Will wasn't too sure if he felt relief or impending doom.
"Intelligence Will need to take a statement but after that you can go home." Will told Allison, squeezing her bicep with a timid smile for reassurance.
"As soon as they find Faith, you'll be the first to know, I promise."
*****
Jay was struggling to concentrate on the CCTV footage him and Adam were meant to be watching.
He could say with 100 percent confidence the he never thought he'd find himself in such a situation.
intelligence have been involved with numerous kidnappings. So many in fact that it was usually what they would be expecting to be called in for every day.
But, this was his niece's kidnapping. This wasn't the norm for him let alone the rest of them. A five year olds kidnapping was something they'd never want to deal with, especially someone who was family.
"Here it is." Adam said, clicking the mouse a few more times before settling on a frame, the scene being the reception of Faith's school.
Shaking any deprecating thoughts away, Jay pushed his chair forward, looking closely and minimising his blinks as to not miss a single second of valuable footage. Footage that would show the final moments of Faith being alive and safe.
The halls were empty for the most of it, bar the occasional janitor or teacher walking by. Two minutes passed when a woman in a black trench coat walked up to the desk. Her brown hair obscuring her face from the camera's view along with the thick scarf wrapped around her neck.
She spoke to the receptionist, signing a sheet of paper before a lady walked away, soon returning with a small familiar bundle.
Faith was in her little purple puffer jacket, bobble hat covering her ears and mitten on her little hands. She wore little winter boots, her my little pony backpack sat nicely on her shoulders and Will's old scarf held in her hands. Unconsciously, Jay thought about how she always complained about the itchiness of the scarf that Will would always wrap around her masterfully, his method luring out the most wonderful sound to mankind; Faith's laughter.
Faith looked perfect, just like her fathers carbon copy and even from the shitty camera footage, Jay could see the pep in her step and the twinkle that never extinguished from her eyes.
Jay's thoughts trailed back to earlier this morning when he was still fast asleep in bed but his brother had messaged him, sending him a picture of Faith in all her adorableness. Nothing had changed from that picture and it warmed his heart slightly.
Usually, whoever picked her up was met with the biggest hello, the widest smile and incessant talking and she retold the adventures of her day but this time, Faith's steps faltered at the sight of the stranger.
Jay struggled to watch the rest.
*****
All Will could hear was his baby girls cries echoing in his ears.
He'd heard her cry plentiful, he raised her since birth for goodness sakes but this cry was different. It was like he could hear just how scared she was and it felt like a literal stab in the heart.
Will forced Allison home twenty minutes ago after Hailey took her statement and was told everything. She was still very torn and upset, she refused to leave Will for several reasons but before she started blaming herself again, Will forced her to leave, promising once again to call her later.
Jay had shown Will the footage of the woman who never showed her face, maybe there was some chance Will could recognise the back of her. Somehow, she knew the exact school Faith went to as well as knowing the list of very few people that were allowed to pick her up. The list consisted of Will obviously, Jay, Allison and Maggie.
Somehow, whoever this person was, they knew who was on the emergency contact list, information that only the school and said people were privy to.
That small bit of information made Will want to be sick.
They had tried other means to try identify the woman but they were coming up with nothing. Another hour had passed, now being give hours since Faith had been taken and Will was slowly losing the plot.
"I've contacted a bunch on my CI's." Jay said, face set in stone as he finished presenting. "Still waiting to hear back."
"I have several CI's in that area." Antonio added, Kevin nodding to also confirm. "Waiting for a call any time now."
Voight hummed, giving no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. But not too long ago, he had taken Will aside and promised they would bring Faith back to him, no matter the cost.
No matter the cost. Ethically, Will wasn't too sure what to feel but emotionally, he felt relieved.
Will must've zoned out for a bit because the next thing he knew, only him, Jay and Antonio remained in the bullpen. Everyone else seemingly disappeared.
Wow, he really needed to fix up.
"Hey, how are you-"
Just as Jay opened his mouth, he was cut off by a phone ringing.
*****
Jay wasn't allowed to accompany Antonio to his CI, instead taking Kevin with him. The Latino was never once persuaded by Jay, even when he promised to stay in the car.
The sun was now starting to set and there was a clear shift in the atmosphere as the sky grew darker. To ease broth his own and his brothers fears, Jay sat with Will, sitting together in a silence neither could stand.
This was an uncommon occurrence since Will had returned from New York, the two brothers being alone together. Since coming back, it had always been the three of them. So to be in this moment, both Halstead's would rather die than to have to repeat this again.
"You want a coffee?" Jay asked, eyeing up the half empty coffee pot. At the rate this investigation was going, they'd be needing more than just coffee to help them stay up.
"Sure." Will hadn't meant for his answers to be monosyllabic, Jay had done nothing but right now, he had not much left in him to continue being so forth coming.
The silence enveloping their space, Will usually relished in any moments of silence he could get but this was just uncomfortable. Never did he ever want his little girl to be causing such a ruckus.
"Maggie called me back." Will said, watching Jays' back, following his actions as he made both their coffee's. "She doesn't recognise the woman nor has she told anyone outside the ED's staff about Faith - that's all people I know and none of them know that woman."
Jay hummed as he stirred the tiniest bit of sugar when his tasted a little too bitter for his liking. "That's good but it does mean we have even less of an idea as to who this is."
Will didn't reply, only mumbling a small thanks as he took the mug from Jay's outstretched hand and sipping the lukewarm drink.
"Have you butted heads with anyone at work recently?" Jay asked, knowing his brothers stubbornness very well.
"No." Will rolled his eyes. "I've been under Goodwin's strong scrutiny after the last stunt. Go ask anyone, I've been good."
And for a second, nothing felt as heavy but such a feeling didn't last.
"Antonio and Kevin are back." Trudy suddenly appeared in the doorway of the breakroom causing both of them to flinch. "Go see them downstairs."
*****
"My CI works in a restaurant. When I reached out, his story matched up with ours." Antonio started, standing tall besides the computer screen where Kevin was trying to connect it to the USB they were given.
"At the same time Will called us, a different woman came and ordered a takeaway with a kid he said looks a lot like Faith."
Will felt his heart rate picking up the more Antonio spoke. Hearing all of this felt like a fever dream, he didn't want to get his hopes up just in case they reached another dead end.
The camera footage started to play, Kevin skipping it when nothing was happening, only to abruptly replay it when someone walked in.
All they could see was the back of the woman, her black hair in a braid, scarf wrapped around her neck with a long jacket on. As Will's eyes studied the stranger, he followed her outstretched arm to-
Faith
Will's breath hitched at the sight of his little girl who hadn't seen since the early hours of the morning when he dropped her off to school. He held his breath, watching closely to see if a single hair was misplaced on her body or to try and see what she was feeling from either her scrunched up eyebrows or her quivering lips.
But he couldn't see anything.
The woman went to the counter, ordered her food and stood there for however long it took for the food to be made. Only when she was handed a carrier bag with several containers did she finally turn around and show her face.
Will's face paled in recognition instantly.
"What's wrong Will?" Jay noticed his change immediately, his question causing everyone in the room to turn and look at him. "Do you recognise her?"
Will swallowed harshly, blinking repeatedly to bring himself out of shock.
"Yeah, it's Faith's mum."
*****
With this newfound information, it didn't take Intelligence long to track her down.
Stephanie Brooks, 'Steph' was what she insisted everyone call her. For just over a year, she was Will's girlfriend and as of five years ago, she was Faiths absent mother.
Ever since that night five years ago, Will never thought he'd see his ex again but here he was, sitting in the back of his brothers truck as he waited for Intelligence to get his daughter back.
Once they had her name, they found the car she had under her name in Chicago and the place she was renting out as of three months ago. Three months of which she had been watching them under a microscope.
Will actually had to go be sick in the toilet when Kim turned around with all of Stephanie's activities since she arrived in Chicago, all of which suspiciously looked very familiar and aligned with everything he and Faith did recently.
That aside, all Will had to do now was wait.
Jay and Kevin stood in front, Kevin ready to kick the door down before Jay could go in first. All they were waiting for was for Voight's signal.
"Now!"
Within seconds, they were all entering the bungalow, guns out and pointed in any direction, covering all corners as they searched for Stephanie.
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
They all went separate directions, covering every room in search of any life and soon enough, they found their culprit.
She screamed.
"Stephanie Brooks, your under arrest..." Adam went on, reciting the words they all had memorised for years now, his gun lowered slightly as Antonio went forward to handcuff her.
"What, no! You're crazy!" She shouted, struggling against Antonio's grip. Despite the cheap bungalow she rented, she was dressed as if ready for a night out. Her hair was curled, makeup perfect, heels and a tight fitted dress on.
"Kidnapping?" She scoffed, continuing to struggle as she was forced onto her feet. "She's my child, my daughter!"
"You can't take her from me." She told them, getting more riled up when she saw Adam rolling his eyes at her. "I want my lawyer, you have no right to take my daughter from me."
On the other side of the bungalow, Jay heard nothing but thundering in his ears as he frantically looked up and down for his niece. Nearly every room had been covered and they hadn't found her yet-
Jay felt his heart break the second Faith was in his sight.
He found her stuffed in the bathtub shivering. He had to kick down the door, finding her with zip ties around her wrists and ankles, sat in the bathtub with on her knickers and vest on.
Faith started crying.
Without another thought, Jay dropped his gun and rushed forward, kneeling at the edge of the bathtub before picking her up and dropping her into his lap.
"Oh Faith." Jay sighed, wrapping his arms around her as she curled into him. "It's okay, your safe, Jay Jay's got you now."
As sobs racked her little body, Jay took out his knife and carefully cut the zip ties off. As soon as the were chucked to the side, she wrapped her arms as far as they could around his torso.
Standing up, Jay took strides out the bathroom and made his way outside. Hailey found him on the way, taking her scarf off with Kim not too far behind taking her jacket off.
Both garments swaddled Faith, protecting her bare limbs from the torturous snow but she continued to shiver.
Jay felt himself breathing easier with her in his arms but Will was firmly on his mind.
Only a metre away from the premises did Jay find Will who was already bounding towards them.
"Faith, look." Jay gently poked her, watching her carefully pick her head up and turn in the direction Jay was pointing.
The cry she let out, it would forever haunt him.
"Faith."
Jay handed her over to his older brother who's arms encased her small body. Will dipped his face in her hair, inhaling the comforting smell that he never wanted to forget.
"Oh baby. It's okay, it's okay." Will repeated as she sobbed, showing no signs of stopping any time soon. "Daddy's got you."
Will pressed several kisses wherever he could: in her hair, her forehead, her ear poking out from her curls, her cheek anywhere. His arms tightened in their embrace and if it wasn't for Jay who was supporting him, he would fallen into the snow as soon as he lost all feeling in his legs.
Will could barely hear his own thoughts over Faith's gut wrenching cries. Somehow, her tears weren't running dry. To see her in such a state but to have her back and safe with him, Will finally let his emotions get the better of him.
He sniffled, hiding his face in her wild curls he always struggled to tame, his tears dropping like rain but his cries were muffled. Screwing his eyes shut, he tried to even out his breathing, Jay's hand on his back comfortingly rubbing circles kept him somewhat sane.
"We're driving to Med." Jay told him, directing the father-daughter duo towards his truck.
Sitting in the back, the outside world no longer existed, his entire universe was sat in his lap. Will had lost track of time, she had been continuously crying but Faith was silent now as she was knocked out, crying herself to sleep, that's how tired she was. All he could hear was the occasional soft snore, but he could feel everything from her rising chest against his own, her curls that needed to be brushed, her skin that was slowly warming up from both his own body heat and the garments wrapped around her and the tears that were drying on his shirt.
Will felt like he could finally start to relax.
*****
Faith remained in Will's arms at Med, even when he woke her up, neither of them made any move of letting go.
As soon as they got to the hospital, Will was surrounded by all his colleagues, all riddled with stress that was slowly disappearing when they saw Faith.
Currently, Natalie was doing the standard tests, letting Will do all the convincing which wasn't a lot. As soon as he asked, Faith complied.
"I'll go grab some heating blankets." Natalie said, stepping back as she finished off. "I'll make sure to put a rush on these."
"Thanks Nat." Will said, letting Faith curl back into his embrace.
"It's no problem." She smiled, her eyes looking down at the little girl, the sight of father and daughter making her think of Owen. "We're all just glad she's safe and mostly unharmed."
Will tried not to think of the scrapes and clotting up scabs that littered her body. He hadn't seen any of them till they got to Med, his chest restricting to know she had been hurt and he wasn't there to relieve her of the pain.
"Thank Ethan for me." Will added when Natalie was about to leave. "Faith loves the my little pony band aids."
And with that, they were left alone for the first time surrounded by the muffled sounds of the bustling department and the occasional beeps of machinery and the faint drips of the iv.
Despite being a doctor for years, Will found it difficult to see the iv needle in Faith. To have two worlds collide, Will would never wish this upon any parent.
Small pokes to his collarbone caught his attention, Faith poking it ever so gently as she stared up at him imploringly with the widest eyes that still glistened, their colour identical to the woman who was going behind bars.
"Missed you." She whispered, voice breaking towards the end. It was the first time she had spoken since she found her and the two words made his eyes water.
"I missed you too. Missed you so much baby." Will replied, tucking her hair behind her ears so he could see her whole face. "I'm so sorry baby. Daddy loves you so much."
A smile appeared on her cherry lips, her dimples not too far behind. Seeing them made it feel like nothing was wrong with the world and only the two of them mattered.
"Home?" She asked, her voice filled with so much innocence and hope that Will has to give himself some time before replying.
"Not yet, I'm sorry bubbles." He apologised, rubbing circles into her back. "Jay Jay still needs to come back and Maggie needs to bring you some medicine. She might even ask you to sleepover."
For once, Will was glad she was so eager to stay at his workplace. She had such wonderment surrounding his job, the thought of sleeping over at his work was almost a dream come true.
To finally see her mood pick up, her eyes glistening now with newfound happiness at the prospect of a sleepover, unaware of the connotations it had, Will allowed himself to feel good.
For now, all that mattered was that his daughter was rightfully back with her father and surrounded by family that would do anything for her.
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merrigel · 2 years
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Miss Muir.... Please.... I have naught but one wish....
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dbphantom · 4 months
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on this laptop is some old near art from hs/college and augh them...
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#i can tell the person walking in front of Caleb was meant to be jerric bc the color of his lab coat is a super pale green#also honestly shout out to 2016 me for putting cord in a postal worker uniform SEVEN YEARS BEFORE I DECIDED TO MAKE RESTORATION#A DELIVERY/POSTAL SERVICE#GIANT BRAIN MOMENT FROM TEENAGE ME#i am however deducting points for not making Jerric fatter until a few years ago#also jerric was assigned a fursona at work he's actually a wolf jsyk#idk unrelated to the tag tangent but related to some of the art#veneer has always had a big theme (?) of like. the horrors of a corporation owning you#esp when you don't have a choice#jerric is a huge part of that in 2 ways#his implants are crestfall tech (that HE designed and THEY own) which they can just turn off at any time#(he's so lucky being the one who designed them because what abt the people who CAN'T PERFORM THEIR OWN MAINTENANCE)#and he needs that job to because of his daughter (like he literally sold his freedom to CF to ensure her safety n livelihood)#all of them were specially chosen and their families allowed entry to the bubble cities by basically selling themselves#to the corporation in order to ensure their families would be able to live safe and happy lives not constantly under threat of#mutated wildlife trampling their homes or the fear of corporate wars destroying their hometown (oh hey Julian when did you get he-) or#natural disasters from the fcking climate crisis or the alien technology that eats people THE LIST GOES ON. THE WORLD IS IN RUIN.#POINT IS THEY SIGNED A CONTRACT ESSENTIALLY SELLING THEMSELVES TO THE CORPORATION IN ORDER TO ENSURE THEIR FAMILIES WERE SAFE#BUT THE ISSUE WITH THE BUBBLE CITIES IS THAT LIKE. THEY'RE ALL JUST WHITE SUBURBAN TOWNS. HELLSCAPE AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE#LITERALLY THEY'RE JUST CULTURE BLACK HOLES IN ORDER TO BE MARKETABLE. THAT IS KARAN'S STORY#so THEN the biggest theme of veneer is the art of being consumed#that is why the portals have teeth and [turn you into the funny fungus] eat you alive#there u go. now everything makes sense forever#i gotta draw more trains#veneer#cruddy rambles
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thinking about how i really DONT want to spend most of tomorrow working from home just to kind of get caught up so i can go in to work tomorrow and get more work assigned to me
#if i had been more productive to day i could have left myself a good chunk of the day to work both today and tomorrow#im just in a terrible work slump rn its so fucking hard#like the coding part isn't hard there's a lot to learn but its doable#BUT learning at the same time as the medical billing ??? NO#i still don't understand one damn thing about billing and i never want to#when he finds out about this infertility billing CRATER of a rabbit im just gonna give him a live demonstration of a shurg emoji#like boy i didn't know what a cpt code was back in january#i didn't know what a pbb insurance meant#you're telling me some surgeries have GLOBAL PERIODs???#learning that ON TOP of billing to much with clinic of our size from processes that are an administrative nightmare at best#i CANNOT do it by myself like this under these conditions and situations like the one we're facing now will continue to happen#unless we invest in better software that actually catches all the info we need or we get more people and invest in TRAINING them#like i am spread out thin enough as it is coding for at these 12 providers who all see patients every day#coding their office visits and emergency department visits#having to be EXTRA thorough reading the ed stuff because the providers don't like to pick dx codes down there for whatever reason#and calling patients when they have questions about why their bill was coded like it was#and when patients have questions about what the prices are#and calling a patient's insurance for them to find out what their infertility coverage is#and sending accounts back to providers because they're documentation is conflicting or just sucks#and riding melissa's ass about her never giving me enough documentation and her just not signing her notes#all while learning on the job how to use these codes and what insurance takes what codes and all the policies surrounding them#i cannot to all of that while learning how to do billing as well#we have a DEDICATED BILLING OFFICE why tf so i have to learn the ins and outs of billing just to communicate with the billing office#because i never have a god damn clue wtf they're saying in their emails#I CANNOT DO IT ALL FUCKSLKDRF#this place is so lucky im out 3k rn while im taking this cpc course#if they haven't hired someone to help me by the time i get reimbursed in Dec/Jan they better start sweating#if i cant make them give me the resources to do my job well then im taking that certification and moving my ass over to Mayo idgaf#wow i didn't mean for this to turn into such a winded rant OOPS#I JUST REALLY HATE MEDICAL BILLING IT MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE AND PATTY AND AMANDA IN THE CBO OFFICE ARE BITCHES
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esyra · 5 months
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After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.
Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.
Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.
By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.
When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.
Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.
Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.
Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.
For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.
Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.
That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!
So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.
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People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.
Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."
They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.
Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.
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kaijutegu · 2 months
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Aug ABSOLUTELY deserves the praise, @ryukikit. St. Augustine Alligator Farm is one of my favorite animal facilities, hands down. It's a pretty zoo, doable in an afternoon if you kinda like crocodilians, or an all day affair if you REALLY like crocodilians. Here are my favorite things about it and why I think it's worth supporting.
1. They keep animals in interesting social groups.
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Crocodilians are heavily involved parents, but most places that breed them don't have the enclosure space to let the babies stay with the parents. St. Augustine does. One of my favorite groups was their crèche of slender-snouted crocodiles. They had the parents and then a yearling cohort and a new hatchling cohort. This aligns with how these guys live in the wild- the babies stick around longer! They have the space for it, and they are very in tune with the social needs of their animals.
Very, very few zoos can keep their baby crocs with the adults and still perform maintenance and animal health checks safely. This doesn't mean these facilities are bad- it just means that they have different management practices. And frankly, a lot of these species aren't frequently bred elsewhere. Your average zoo doesn't need a setup where you can have a multiyear crèche for slender-snouted crocodiles. Some species have better success when the young are pulled early, and some zoos are better set up to raise out any offspring separately or behind the scenes. Every facility's practices are different, and this just happens to work well at St. Augustine and be really enjoyable to see as a zoo patron.
Crocodilians are exceptional parents and very protective. It's a sign of incredible animal management practices and animals that feel very comfortable with staff that St. Augustine can do this with nearly every species they breed.
2. They understand the social needs of their animals.
Some crocodilians are social. Some are solitary. Some can live happily with a member of the opposite sex but get territorial around members of the same sex. St. Augustine pays incredible attention to their social groupings to ensure that they aren't just meeting the animals' physical health needs but their social needs as well. They do continuous scientific research about social structures in crocodilians, taking blood samples to test stress hormones and observing stress behaviors to see how group dynamics change.
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For example, St. Augustine is home to one of the world's largest known living saltwater crocodiles, Maximo. And his comparatively tiny mate, Sydney. During the educational presentations with these two, they point out that even their monster of a croc needs his social group- he won't eat if she's not around and he is calmer during medical checks if he can see her. These animal share a deep and special pair bond, and they make sure to talk about how the social aspect of these animals' lives is integral to their care. It's a unique aspect of the way they talk about these animals, because he IS a spectacle and he IS a sensation, but they don't talk about him like he's a mindless killing machine- they talk about him like he's a big, complex predator with social needs like any other animal. Aug is the only facility I've been to where the emotional and social needs of crocodilians is part of the education they provide guests- and speaking of education...
3. Their demos and presentations are extremely good.
The presentations at St. Augustine are some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen literally hundreds of animal talks on everything from aardvarks to zebras. But as you... can probably tell from my blog content, I've spent a lot of time learning about and working with reptiles. I really enjoyed all of their presentations because they are very scientific about things and avoid sensationalism. They really want you to be fascinated by these creatures and love them- but more than anything else, they want you to respect them.
Also, they do a really good job handling their ambassadors. I really enjoyed something as simple as watching an educator tell us about snakes. Throughout the whole presentation she made sure that most of the snake's body was looped in her hand. The snake was always supported and was very calm. She gave the snake plenty of head room so that it didn't feel constricted- it was just good handling all around.
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But also, the presentations made it clear how much the park cares about the animals' well-being. When they do the feeding and training presentations, they make it very clear that the animals' participation is entirely voluntary. They do things differently for their 9-foot saltie and their 16-foot saltie, because the 16-footer is so large and heavy he actually struggles walking on land sometimes. They adapt their programs and his care to ensure that he's completely comfortable- and he didn't actually participate in the whole feeding when I was watching! At no point did they try to push him into anything uncomfortable; they offered, he didn't engage, and they moved on. It was a clear expression of his boundaries, and I really appreciated how much his caretakers respected that.
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4. Ethical Interactions
I've been to... a lot of tourist locations in Florida that have animals you can hold. Almost always against my will! Many of them are pretty terrible, and you don't actually learn much, if anything. But I really found that to not be the case at St. Augustine. Every single animal presentation and interaction opportunity was accompanied by education about the animal's biology, habits, and- crucially- their conservation status.
When I held a baby alligator at St. Augustine, the proctors- there were two, one to ensure I was holding the gator correctly and the other to educate- were very informative about the role alligators play in their ecosystem and their conservation history. The animals were all properly banded, and one of the two proctors was there to ensure that none of the baby alligators were uncomfortable. As soon as they started getting squirmy or tense, they were removed, unbanded, and taken to an off-exhibit area to relax. And when the babies age out of petting size, they just go in the lagoon to live with others of their species. I saw one upset alligator the entire time I was there, and he was clearly upset that his escape attempt was foiled by a keeper during my nursery tour.
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Even though he's restrained in this shot, you can see that his full body and tail are supported, and the grip, while firm, is gentle. He's distressed, but after I took this picture, she put him in his enclosure and he calmed down immediately.
Sometimes when you have petting attractions with baby animals, those animals... don't have a happy ending. (See: cub petting.) But St. Augustine's program is fine- the gators are all aged out of wanting to have mom around, there's no declawing/defanging, and they're handled with care. And it's worth it, because people love what they understand. St. Augustine was integral in raising public awareness about alligators back in the 60s when they were endangered, and now they're thriving- largely in part to programs like St. Augustine getting people to care.
And speaking of getting people to care, let's talk about their research.
5. Shared Research Results
St. Augustine is also home to more species of crocodilian than anywhere else in North America- all of them, usually. (They didn't have a Tomistoma when I visited- that may have changed.)
Because of this species diversity, it's an incredible research resource. Having every species means that you can do a lot of work comparing their behaviors, their growth patterns, and more. They've been a major research site for crocodilian biology since the 1970s. Today, they're one of the key sites for studying crocodilian play and social behaviors. They actually maintain a blog where they post copies of papers that were written using their animals, meaning that you can actually see the results of the research your admission helps fund. You can see that right here: https://www.alligatorfarm.com/conservation-research/research-blog/
All of this adds up to a zoo that provides a unique experience, tons of actual education, and transparency about what its research and conservation steps actually are. St. Augustine's come a long way since its opening in 1893, and they really do want you to leave with a new respect for the animals they care for. Ultimately, if you're a fan of reptiles, you can feel good about visiting the St. Augustine Alligator Farm- their care and keeping are top of the line, they do a ton of innovative conservation research and support for conservation organizations, and you can see this animal there:
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(Gharial from the front. Nothing is wrong with her that's just what they look like from the front.)
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lilislegacy · 1 month
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look. either you agree with me or you don’t - either way it doesn’t matter - but i truly think that at some point - after time, a lot of heavy conversations, some yelling, and crying, and a whole lot of honesty and apologies from her parents - annabeth and her family would work things out and become semi-close. which means eventually percy would be on good terms with them too.
that said, you cannot convince me otherwise that at some point, probably soon after moving to new rome, percy gets into a screaming match with mr. and mrs. chase about how they treated annabeth. and he absolutely blows out the pipes of every house within a mile radius.
not because annabeth needs him to fight her battles. not because percy thinks he has to fight annabeth’s battles. but because he can’t even begin to grasp how someone could treat a child - their own child - like they treated annabeth. the man who was raised by sally jackson cannot even begin to fathom how they blamed their child for the danger that followed her, and then gaslit her when she went to them for help. he can’t even begin to understand how they put her brothers before her, because now that he has his own little sister, his mom has never been more clear about how much she loves him.
he’s gonna lose his shit.
(“what kind of father doesn’t do everything in his power to protect this child?” “it doesn’t matter that you didn’t sign up for it. it’s your fucking job.” “what kind of monster encourages her husband to turn his back on his 5 year old daughter?” “yeah you didn’t choose to have a child, but she didn’t choose to be born!” “what? did you hear that demigods don’t have long lifespans and were just waiting for her funeral so you could get on with your lives?” “what kind of parents make it clear to their daughter that their new babies are the priority? that she’s a danger to them? that they are more important?” “would you fall into hell to save her?… if your immediate answer isn’t yes, then making you a father was the dumbest thing athena ever did.” “she was a scared little kid. you were supposed to protect her.”)
the minute they try to defend themselves, the chases are getting soaked. and part of that is from peeing their pants with fear becasue we all know how terrifying percy is when he’s angry. and nothing makes him angrier than someone who’s hurt the girl, the woman, who is his entire world.
you cannot convince me otherwise. don’t even try.
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aliceramblez · 2 months
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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈
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Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.
A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!
Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~
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Charlie 🌈
When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.
As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.
You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.
As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.
You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.
It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?
But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.
She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”
And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.
She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.
You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.
You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.
Vaggie 🎀
Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.
The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.
“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”
And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.
Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.
“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”
You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.
For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.
During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.
You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!
It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.
Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.
Angel Dust 🕸
Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.
You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.
When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.
This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.
“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”
Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.
As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.
Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.
And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.
Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.
With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.
One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.
You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.
You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.
Husker 🍺
As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.
It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.
Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.
Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.
You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.
Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.
“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”
Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?
After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.
So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?
But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.
To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”
And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.
Sir Pentious 🐍
You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.
As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.
You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.
He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!
You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.
One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.
“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”
You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”
Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.
So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.
Alastor 📻
After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.
As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.
Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.
Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.
“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”
“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”
After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.
You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.
But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.
“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”
The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.
“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”
And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.
Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.
The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).
Like you said—he's not a monster.
Lucifer 🍎
You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.
His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.
Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?
To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.
Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.
“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”
You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.
After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?
Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.
He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.
It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?
Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.
Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”
You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.
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libbyfandom · 4 months
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Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink
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(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))
(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))
You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”
Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.
You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.
You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.
“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.
“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”
You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.
Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.
Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.
She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.
You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”
Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”
But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.
“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”
Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”
You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”
Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”
You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”
Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”
You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”
“He’s gross.”
She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.
“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.
You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.
She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.
“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.
She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.
The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.
She mumbles something.
“Mizu-“
“I wanna do that.”
Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”
“I want to cum inside you.”
The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.
Holy shit.
Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.
And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.
Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“
Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.
“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“
Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.
“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”
Holy shIT-
“Mizu-MIZU-!”
Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.
And very, VERY drunk.
She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”
You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.
But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.
Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”
Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.
Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”
Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.
“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.
Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.
“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.
Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.
Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.
You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.
She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-
“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“
You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.
SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.
You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.
“Baby.”
Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.
“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.
Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.
And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Please?”
She’s pleading.
What the fuck was in her whiskey?!
“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”
With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.
You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.
"Say yes..."
Click!
You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.
She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.
Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”
“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.
“Oh? Congratulations!”
“….Wait…?”
“RINGO HELP!”
In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.
“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.
“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”
You nod, “That sounds good."
You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”
She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.
“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”
Several loud crashes in the kitchen.
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marvelsmylife · 25 days
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Damned if you do, damned if you don’t
Pairing: Azriel x reader 
Plot: After accidentally listening to your mate confess to his brothers that he thinks your clingy, you decided to give him space and discover who you are outside of your relationship. What happens when Azriel notices the distance between the two of you. Will he fix what he broke or will he make it worse.
Warning: Angst angst angst. Accusations of cheating. Azriel’s an ass by the end of this.
A/n don’t worry, I’m already planning on making a part two to this. I always try to have happy endings to all of my stories.
Part two Part Three Bonus Scene
ACOTAR Masterlist
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She’s just- She's just very clingy. You were not supposed to hear the current conversation Azriel was having with his brothers. But that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to be hurt by what your mate was saying: “I just wish she would get a hobby or make friends outside of our inner circle. I feel like I can't go anywhere without her asking where I’m going or if she could tag along,” Azriel added and earned a disapproving look from Cassian.
“You don’t mean that,” Cassian argued back: “I would give anything for Nesta to want to spend that amount of time with me.”
It was no secret how complicated Cassian’s relationship with his mate. He’d vented to Azriel and Rhysand about his frustration with the current status of his and Nesta’s relationship. He told Azriel countless times how much he wished he had what you and Azriel had.
Not being able to stomach what your mate was saying about you, you disappeared into your bedroom and silently cried yourself to sleep.
The following morning, instead of waking up Azriel with breakfast in bed like you usually do, you decided to wander the streets of Velaris. In all the time you have lived in this city, you've never really explored it, only going to Rita’s, Rhysand's townhouse, and the river house.
You weren’t sure what you were looking for in particular, so you just decided to go with the flow and see where you ended up. You started with grabbing breakfast at a tiny restaurant you’ve probably passed a dozen times but didn’t notice until now.
Following that, you decided to shop to pass the time. You were ready to head home when you stumbled upon a dance studio. It was always your dream to be a dancer growing up, but seeing as your family was too poor for you to buy you lessons, your dream never got to be fulfilled. That was until today.
You contemplated if you wanted to enter the studio when a male stepped out of the building and asked: “Are you planning on signing up for classes?”
“No, no,” you shook your head as you wrapped your arms around your body: “I’ve never danced a day in my life, so I’ll probably make a fool of myself.”
The male let out a small laugh at your response: “Don’t worry, the morning classes are for beginners. Come, you can sit in during this class, and you could decide if you want to join after.”
You were about to decline his offer when the events from the night before flooded your mind again. She’s too clingy. She needs to get a hobby and make new friends. “You know what? Why not. I have nothing planned for the day,” you responded and followed the male into the dance studio.
It was lunchtime by the time the dance class was over, and you decided to sign up to start taking classes the following day. Everyone was so friendly to you, and you could tell the instructor was passionate about teaching others how to dance. That inspired you to sign up to take classes for a month and see where you go from there.
Throughout the class, though, you felt Azriel tug on the bond. Which was strange because he’d never done that before. You would reciprocate just to let him know you were ok.
As soon as you left the studio, you decided to stop by Rhysand’s townhouse to see Feyre and Nyx. To your surprise, everyone was there, including Azriel, who was currently playing with Nyx. This was strange because Azriel and Cassian usually spent most of their day training the Valkyrie. 
“Y/n !” Feyre squealed with excitement as she ran to greet you.
Azriel’s immediately looked over at you. He wanted to go towards where you were so he could ask where you went in the morning, but Nyx forbade him from leaving where he was. So, instead, he had to hear you tell everyone what you were up to.
“That’s amazing !” Feyre smiled. She knew about your dream of being a dancer and has been trying to convince you to take classes with the money Rhysand has been paying you.
After spending an hour catching up with everyone, you told them you had to pick up a few things for your first day. “I promise I’ll come straight here after my first class to tell you how it went,” you promised while grabbing your things.
Azriel was surprised when you started walking towards the front door without asking him if he wanted to go with you. “Um, would you like for me to accompany you?”
“No, thank you,” you replied without looking at him: “But thank you for offering.”
While you were hurt by what Azriel confessed to his brothers, you weren't going to be rude towards him for his own feelings. 
Everyone glanced at Azriel, puzzled because you always wanted Azriel’s company when you went out, especially if it involved shopping. “Is everything ok between you and y/n? She always wants you to go shopping with her, mainly so you can carry her bags, but still,” Mor asked.
“I don’t know,” Azriel replied honestly: “Last time I checked, we were doing ok.”
Cassian wanted to make a snide comment about the conversation they had the night before, but he kept his mouth shut.
That became your routine for the next six months. You woke up, went to dance classes, and either hung out with the new friends you made at dance class or spent time at the river house. As much as Azriel’s words hurt you, you could not help but thank him. If it wasn't for him, you would not be doing what you loved and creating so many new friendships.
Throughout that time, though, Azriel noticed you were pulling away from him. He missed waking up to you making him breakfast in bed. He missed when you would pester him about details of his day, but most of all, he missed your constant physical contact.
While you haven’t completely stopped touching him, he noticed you stopped sitting so close to him that you were basically on top of him. He also noticed you’ve stopped inviting him to go anywhere with you and stopped asking if you could tag along whenever he would go into town.
He was growing worried you were falling out of love with him or worse, you were cheating on him.
He knew your dance instructor was a male and grew paranoid that you were cheating on him with your instructor. “She’s not cheating on you Az. She loves you too much to do that to you,” Rhysand reassured Azriel.
“I would have believed you if you would have said that six months ago,” Azriel hid his face in his hands: “But she’s a completely different person now. She barely touches me anymore. The last time we had sex was over a month ago. I’m going crazy, and she doesn’t even care.”
Cassian couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Azriel’s comment: “Sex isn’t everything you know. Have you tried talking to her about this?”
“It is if we used to do it at least once a day, and to answer your question, no, I haven’t because she’s never home. She’s been at that dumb dance studio rehearsing for a recital they’re having tomorrow.” 
“Instead of complaining about her dancing, why don’t you go to the recital to support her. Just because you think it’s dumb doesn’t mean it’s not important, especially to her,” Rhysand advised.
As much as Azriel didn’t want to, he did what Rhysand suggested and went to your dance recital the next day. He showed up with a big bouquet of roses that earned some stares from strangers in the audience. He didn’t care. He was there for you and only you.
And he was so happy he ended up going. He watched in awe as you danced so elegantly across the stage. He mentally cursed himself for calling what you were doing dumb because watching you dancing made him fall in love with you all over again. By the time the recital was finished, Azriel had a speech about how proud he was of you and how amazing you looked dancing on stage. 
Unfortunately, right as he was about to approach you after the recital ended, your instructor pulled you into a hug and spun you around.
Azriel was fuming and threw the roses he bought for you on the floor before stocking over to where you were: “Azriel. You-”
You didn’t have a chance to finish before Azriel ripped your instructor off of you and started punching him.
“Azriel ! ! !” You yelled at your mate as he punched your instructor repeatedly.
It took six male faes to finally remove Azriel from your instructor. “I’m sorry y/n. You are a phenomenal student, but you can not attend my classes anymore. You and your mate are banned,” your instructor said before storming away.
You felt your heart break at the news you were given and found yourself dropping to the floor. To Azriel’s credit, he immediately regretted his actions and tried to comfort you: “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” 
“Don’t,” you glared at your mate and started getting up: “How could you do this to me. You knew how important dancing was to me, and now you got me banned from the place I started to call home.”
“I’m your home ! ! !” Azriel yelled defensively: “I barely see you anymore because you spend all your time at that dumb dance studio. I just want my mate back!”
You let out a dry laugh at Azriel’s comment: “I was just giving you exactly what you wanted. For me to not be so damn clingy all the time. I found a hobby and made friends, but now you ruined it.”
Azriel stiffened at your words. He remembered the night he said those horrible words and the harsh words both Cassian and Rhysand had said to him afterward. They made him realize what he had with you was unique, and he should cherish every moment he had with you because tomorrow was never guaranteed, especially for them. He just didn’t know you overheard him say those things: “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”
“Save it. I can’t even look at you right now,” you inhaled sharply: “I’m going to stay with a friend for a few nights. Don’t worry, it’s not my instructor. Our friendship is clearly done after the stunt you just pulled.” You started walking away but turned around to add: “He’s gay, by the way. He has a partner and a beautiful son they adopted three years ago.”
And just like that, the weight of Azriel’s actions hit him as he watched you walk away. 
@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321
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finelinefae · 1 month
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the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]
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synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.
word count: 8.5k
contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma
This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!
. . .
Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military.  People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission. 
“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft. 
He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug. 
“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own. 
Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close.  Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.
“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair. 
“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead 
“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother. 
Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips. 
Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.
“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.
“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.
George nodded, “Last time I heard.”
“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.
Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.
Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling. 
“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. 
“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”
George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.” 
Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery. 
. . .
“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon. 
“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job.  She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.
“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”
Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet. 
“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?” 
Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply. 
Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up. 
As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.” 
Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. 
Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life. 
“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.” 
“M her brother,” He corrected. 
“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention. 
“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding. 
“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”
“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?” 
“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.
“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.” 
Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.
“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained. 
“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?” 
“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,” 
“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.” 
Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.” 
Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?” 
She paused, “Any friends?” 
“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”
“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said. 
“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.” 
“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-” 
“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.” 
Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”
Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”
“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing. 
“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?” 
“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance. 
“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle. 
Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.
Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”
“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.
“I can believe that,” She yelled back.
“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.
Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.
Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.
On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base. 
The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red. 
Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.
“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”
“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. 
“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified. 
“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked. 
Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?” 
“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.” 
“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly. 
“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.
“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen. 
Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”
“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly. 
“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”
“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.” 
“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”
Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added. 
“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.” 
Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her. 
“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”
“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.
“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished. 
Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”
“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night. 
Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.” 
Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.
"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.
Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."
Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."
With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.
Keep away from Harry Styles. 
. . .
The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers. 
This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages. 
Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit. 
Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms. 
Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new. 
Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes. 
Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light. 
Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet. 
He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in. 
The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.” 
“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky. 
“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled. 
“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms. 
George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?” 
Harry didn’t reply, instead asking,  “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?” 
George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?” 
The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?” 
George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”
Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”
“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.
“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”
Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.” 
“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”
“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night. 
“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement. 
“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.
“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.
“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”
“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.”  Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.
. . .
Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to. 
She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too. 
Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails. 
It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man. 
Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him. 
Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse. 
Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist. 
“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.
“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.
“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 
“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol. 
“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N. 
“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously. 
“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself. 
Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.
Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were. 
“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined. 
“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted. 
Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better. 
Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.
“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return. 
“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”
“A few?” Patsy giggled.
“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre. 
Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy. 
“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them. 
“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies. 
Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”
“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.
Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”
Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances. 
Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that. 
The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”
“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman. 
Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”
Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”
“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table. 
“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.
“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table. 
A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.  
Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through. 
He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.
“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke. 
“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile. 
A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted. 
“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist. 
“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be. 
“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen. 
“Hi,” Y/N blushed.
“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke. 
“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified. 
“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.”  Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”
“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name. 
“Harry, c’mere!” He called. 
Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to. 
“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”
“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.
“So you came?” He teased. 
“I did.” She laughed, lightly. 
“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk. 
“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.
“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?” 
"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.
Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer. 
Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked. 
“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.
He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?” 
Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air. 
She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances. 
“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.
“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained. 
“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”
“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.
“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of. 
“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”
Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”
“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.
Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”
“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.
“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.
Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.” 
Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people. 
The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely. 
Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.
"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin. 
As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.
"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.
"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.
"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background. 
"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.
"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.
"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.
"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.
"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.
"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.
"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.
"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.
Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.
“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. 
As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about. 
A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. 
"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.
Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.
"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."
Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.
"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.
"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.
Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.” 
Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.
Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.” 
“I do want it,” Y/N nodded. 
“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper. 
“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous. 
Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.
Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible. 
In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss. 
They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss. 
“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.
“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper. 
“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned. 
“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.” 
Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate. 
“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. 
Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.” 
Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”
They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre. 
“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.
Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.” 
Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared. 
She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms.  As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.
Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.
A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.
I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33
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ceilidho · 2 months
Text
take me home, country road
[ao3]
prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 3) part 1, part 2
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“Neglecting your husband already?” he asks when you pull away from the arm curling around your waist. It’d migrated there from your back during the walk away from the courthouse. 
“You know I’m not—I’m not some horse that you can just…break in,” you seethe, glaring up at Price. Your arms are crossed tight over your chest, putting the slightest boundary between you and him. It’s more of a mental boundary than anything, a self-soothing gesture; you know it hardly even registers to him because the man still looks down at you with that unimpressed expression, like dealing with a particularly vexing child. 
“I hadn’t noticed,” he says dryly, looking you up and down. It’s a scorching, hungry look and it makes you shift from foot to foot. 
The two of you stand outside the front door of his house, the front door still shut tight. You put up a fuss on the walk from town as the reality of your situation finally sunk in, squirming in his hold until he threatened to just load you over his shoulder and carry you off. His tone leaves little for you to doubt. Nothing about him brooks skepticism; until the end of time, you’ll look at John Price and think, this is a man of action. This is a man that will move heaven and earth. 
You clam up after that, lips pursed shut though turned down at the corners. 
It’s a bigger house than you might’ve expected for a single man, but perhaps it was built with a wife and children in mind. The thought makes you swallow. A wooden two-story thing with a porch out front and an adjacent stable for his two horses with a pen around back. Speckled Appaloosas that look up at the sound of his boots and keys, attentive for all of a few seconds before losing interest. 
You know without asking that Price must have built this house with his own two hands. It’s not shoddy by any means, but his house has that indefinable quality that some places have. Organic. Homegrown, almost. It’s hard to put up against the houses of your youth, but then again, you grew up in the cramped quarters of the city, apartments thick with the scent of sewage on bad days and dust on the good. The two are hardly comparable. It’s even harder to put up against the estates that you’ve spent the better part of the last few years cleaning and learning inside out, but at least his house doesn’t make your stomach turn at the sight. 
There’s a moment when you first turn to him where you wonder if he’ll look for approval in your face, some sign to set him at ease, but when you meet his gaze, it’s steady and impenetrable. Quietly self-assured. It’s incongruent with the machismo you were raised around, the constant need to impress or transcend. It puts you on edge. It makes you almost feel like baring your teeth.
Your comment had come from seeing the horses and the house and the porch with the two rocking chairs, your hackles raising every step closer. Price built his house big enough for children because he anticipated a baby in his future. Children he’d have with his wife, which, though a fuzzy memory as far as memories go, you quietly stepped into the role of not half an hour ago. 
You’ve thought about it before. Motherhood; marriage, domestic living, settling down with a man to start a family. The reality of your life has always made it seem like a problem for the future. Years chipping away like flakes of faded paint off the walls of your bedroom, still living with your aunt and uncle well into adulthood, trying desperately to scrimp and save and stay afloat. Disappointing but not surprising that you’d never been considered the marriable sort, not with scrubbing other people's toilets for a living. 
And now look at you, ring on your finger and whisked home to be bedded. A shiver roles down your spine at the thought and you scowl at Price instead of sinking into the strange thrill. 
When he wraps a hand around your wrist to pull you towards him (his fingers easily overlapping; another thrill), you snap.
“That is quite enough with all the touching!” 
His eyes narrow. “I’ll have more than my hands on you by the end of the night.”
A more proper woman would gasp. You barely hold yours back. 
You know in the back of your mind that you’ve already lost any semblance of an upper hand in this situation. It has long spiraled out of your control. His ring sits on your finger all nice and pretty, and though you signed your marriage license under a different name—your own rather than the name of his actual intended—that Price hadn’t even bothered confirming, you are, for all intents and purposes, his to touch as he pleases. 
“I’m—” your eyes dart around, the urge to bolt a sharp and sudden compulsion lodged in your chest, “—I know I said yes, but I—there’s always the possibility of an a-annulment if we don’t…if…”
You flinch, startled, when he pulls you into his chest only to cup your face again. He has big hands with callused fingers, rough against your skin. Up close, you can see the way his beard is cropped closer than his mustache and mutton chops. It gives him a grim air, almost somber until you catch his eyes staring down at you with an affection that feels unearned, meant for someone else. 
“Deep breaths, darling, there’s nothing to fret about just yet. You’ll work yourself into a state like this,” he murmurs, dropping his head to sip a kiss from your lips again. 
You’ve been in a state since the moment you walked into the sheriff’s office and laid eyes on this man. Turned around and knocked sideways, like you’ve walked into a storybook without noticing. If only it hadn’t all been so sudden, you might’ve been able to approach the situation with a clearer head. You might’ve been able to think up some other way out of it beyond giving Price a fake name and waiting anxiously for your true identity to be painstakingly drawn out over the course of a week. 
“Don’t know why you keep working yourself up,” Price says softly, then slots your lips together for another tender kiss. “Figured you might be a little skittish, but…’m gonna be such a good husband for you, honey. Not gonna want for nothing.”
His slow kisses drag out longer than back in the courthouse, languorous and decadent. As if he has all the time in the world now. In a way, he does, now that he’s helped collect your belongings from the inn and brought you home. When you think of pulling away, the hand wrapped around your wrist lets go and slides to your back, pulling you flush against his chest. Your breasts flatten against his chest, pulse skittering like mad when you feel the hardest of his chest against yours and the muscle holding you in place. 
You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips when the hand on your cheek slides to the nape of your neck and grips, holding you in place. The kiss deepens, the heat on your cheeks feeling palpably hot, vision swimming until your eyes have no choice but to flutter shut. Your suitcase sits forgotten somewhere in the dirt, toppled over onto its side. You pant low, hot breaths into his mouth when he breaks the kiss, letting his lips just hover over yours.
“There we go, darlin’,” Price mumbles against your mouth, sliding the hand on your low back down to grip the plump flesh of your ass through your dress, lips twitching when you make a broken, affronted sound. “Isn’ that better? Not thinkin’ so hard?”
You can’t think at all, in truth. When he kisses you again, your thoughts evaporate up into the clouds, the tongue licking into your mouth dispelling any ideas or notions you might’ve had. It disappears into the heat and lust and the fingers digging into your backside, groping at the flesh there without shame or compunction. You go with him when he clutches you closer, gasping again into his mouth when you feel something hard press against your low belly. He grunts when you twitch against it. 
“John—John—” you gasp, pulling your mouth away and whimpering when he chases after you, letting him steal another wet, slick kiss before your trembling hands clutch at the fabric of his shirt. “Enough—it’s not—it’s not proper—”
“No prying eyes around here,” he grunts. “‘Sides, who’s going to tell a man he can’t kiss his own wife?”
Trembling all the harder at his words, you dig your nails into his shirt sleeves and hope you pinch the skin underneath. All twisted up inside. The ring on your finger glimmers when it catches the light, brighter even than the sun this close to your face. When Price feels your nails dig into his arms, he groans, fingers pressing harder into your bottom and making you squeak. All the pent up lust finally trickling out of him and into you. 
“C’mon, honey, let’s get you inside.” He finally lets you go after giving your bottom lip one last wet suck, pulling it into his mouth while his half-lidded eyes stare into yours. It’s somehow more intimate than kissing. 
You’re still reeling when he turns around to pick your suitcase off the ground, certain that your knees will give way and send you tumbling as well. Every point of contact on your body sizzles, aches. You watch from outside of yourself as he turns back to you, suitcase in his hand now, eyes still dark and fixed on you. Hungry. Your eyes widen when they flit down to find a thick bulge at the crotch of his pants. 
Like a cold bucket of water has been dumped over your head, you hiss and back up three steps when he takes a step towards you. “Oh no, you don’t take one step closer! I won’t have anything to do with—with that!”
You must look like some feral barn cat, back all puffed up, teeth bared to the man trying to coax you towards him. Price must see it too because he grins, amused. “Still spittin’ mad, huh? Felt those claws in me before, darlin’…gonna love feeling them with nothing between us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
Price doesn’t bother clearing anything up, but you intuit it the second he takes another step in your direction, whirling around and sprinting towards the house. It feels counterproductive to seek shelter in the man’s house, but dusty plains stretch out in every direction apart from back into town, where you know not a soul will lift a finger to help you. His house is the only shelter you’re going to get.
You hurry up the porch stairs, tearing open the door before glancing over your shoulder to find Price not far behind. He advances on you at a walking pace, but each stride of his long legs matches two of yours, making you shriek and scurry up the staircase. You dart for the first open door you see, slamming it shut behind you and leaning your whole weight against it. Glancing down, you perk up at the sight of a lock on the door before flipping it.
It’s not long before the sound of boots clomping up the staircase meets your ears, headed straight in your direction. You shake when you hear him pause right outside the door, then startle when he tries the knob. 
“You gonna let me in, darling?” Price asks, grin in his voice. Even raps his knuckle against the door for good measure.
“No,” you snap. 
“Not even for your things? Got your suitcase right here.” You hear him set it down, a little clunk against the wood floor. 
“I can manage like this. I’ve slept in my dress before.”
He pauses. “Have you?”
You tilt your chin up proudly despite the door blocking his view. “Yes, and I don’t mind doing it again. You can just stay on the other side of that door until you…until you put that thing away.”
“Can’t do much about that thing, darling; it’s sort of grown on me over the years anyway,” Price chuckles. “Well, not much I can do with it behind this door. I’ll go tend the horses ‘till suppertime comes ‘round and then come back to tend to you.”
“Licentious…reprobate,” you hiss through the door. 
He laughs, the sound deep in his throat. Your stomach flips. 
The stairs creak under the weight of his boots as he descends back downstairs. You wait until you hear the front door open and shut behind him, until the house is completely quiet save for the blood pumping in your ears before you hastily unlock the door and dart a hand out just to pull your suitcase in. You shut and lock the door as soon as it passes the threshold. 
It takes a while to settle your nerves and for the trembling to subside. In the meantime, you sit on your bottom at the foot of the door, with your back still pressed firmly to the wood, and take stock. There’s a bed in the room, one you hadn’t noticed in your mad scramble to lock yourself in. A bigger bed than the one you’d slept on back at the inn, but just as sparse, with gray flannel sheets and a blue quilt folded and draped over the end of the bed. 
The rest of the furniture in the room—two end tables, a chest of drawers, a desk, and two chairs situated in the corner of the room—appears so consistent in its design that you have to wonder if Price made them by hand as well. Hardly a reason to question it. You think to yourself that you’ll have to ask him how he finds the time only to quickly shake that thought away. Can’t be getting too chummy, certainly not if you don’t expect to be around in a month’s time. Hopefully less than that. 
You chew on your lip at the thought of fleeing in the night.
It trickles into your thoughts while you open your suitcase on the bed and riffle around for your nightwear. Price will likely keep you under lock and key for at least the first week of your marriage, giving you little opportunity to take off any time soon. If only you’d held your tongue and played the demure bride, he might’ve had some cause to trust you. Certainly not now, after your most recent display. 
Your own stupid fault, as usual. It’s not the first time your temper has gotten the better of you. You’ve faced worse consequences for it. 
Outside the window on the far end of the room, a horse whinnies. You pause, remembering that Price hadn’t gone very far. When you glance out curiously, you see him letting the horses into the pen, giving one a good rub down the bridge of its nose. The horses seem to melt under his touch. 
It’s strange watching him from far away. From a distance, it’s hard to reconcile him with the man that bent you over his desk not an hour ago and tanned your bottom. You cringe at the memory. It’s not that Price doesn’t seem like a man that would take his wife over his knee if he saw fit to do so, but you still can’t imagine yourself as that woman. When you think about it, it feels like a play, something you saw happen to someone else. Not you wailing and squirming like a cat in heat. 
As if feeling your stare, he glances up at the window and winks when he catches your eye. With a squeak, you leap away from the window, scurrying back over to the bed. 
A couple hours pass in restless contemplation, practically biting your nails to the quick. Eyeing the windowsill like you still might go over there just to check on what Price is up to outside. You hear him come back into the house once or twice, tensing up at the sound of his boots, only to be left vaguely disappointed when you hear him leave and the screen door slam shut behind him. 
You spend so long holed up in the bedroom that you miss lunch entirely. Below you, you hear Price puttering around downstairs in the kitchen—the sound of a knife chopping vegetables and then the sizzle of meat on a pan. The hunger pangs nearly make you break, but you’ve gone without food before. 
Your heart skips a beat when you hear him ascend the staircase again and place something just outside of your door. He doesn’t try coaxing you out this time, just heads back down the stairs and out the front door. Again, you ignore the pang of disappointment; ignore the urge to open the door and holler down the stairs for him to stay gone. 
He leaves anyway. 
Curiosity needles at you though, so you open the door up a crack when you’re sure you’re alone. There’s a plate at the foot of the door with vegetables and meat, slightly cooled but still fresh, the plate still warm. He must’ve known you wouldn’t try coming downstairs and fixed you up a plate. 
You eat in silence at the desk, bad mood ripening. Angry at yourself and everyone else. Even John. Especially John. The audacity of fixing you up a plate, of thinking of you in the first place. Irritated enough to stand boldly by the window this time, hand clutched in the curtain, tracking the movement of his shoulders and hips when he moves with the horses and fetches water from the well. You lose sight of him a couple times as he finishes up the day’s chores around the house, but the flutter in your belly always settles when he comes back into view. 
It’s easy to let yourself admire him from afar, somehow less humiliating without his eyes on you. He’s a solid man, body carved into its shape from the rough labor that’s part and parcel of living out on the frontier. A wide back tapering down to lean, narrow hips and thick, muscled thighs hewn from lifting and pulling and all manner of physical work. You bite your lip when you remember what it felt like to cling to that back and dig your nails into his arms. 
You give your head a shake. It’s dangerous to let a thought like that latch on. 
In the few hours between lunch and sunset, you occupy yourself by reading one of the books stowed away in your suitcase. Then get bored and refold your clothes. The horses bray when they’re taken into the stables for the evening. The crickets out in the bushes in the yard chirp as the sun sets pink in the far distance. It’s quieter out here in the plains than back in the city, you think, something you haven’t yet had the time to appreciate. 
When Price comes in for the night, you’re firm in your resolve to keep the door shut. If lunch at the door was just an attempt to butter you up, he has another thing coming. In a house this big, there’s likely a guest room or somewhere else to sleep—a sofa or a sleeping bag tucked away under the stairs. He’ll just have to make do while you take the bedroom. There’ll be no sharing a bed with the man that grabbed your backside like a piece of meat. 
He doesn’t come up the stairs right away. Like before, you hear him rustle up supper, spatula scraping against a pan and knife coming down on a chopping block again and again. Not enough time has passed since lunch for you to feel more than peckish. You’re thankful for that when you hear him sit down to eat. 
The knock at the door startles you. You hadn’t heard him come up the stairs. “Ready to talk now?”
You stare balefully at the door. “No.”
“We have to figure this out sometime, darling.”
“No, we don’t.”
“I’m sorry if I gave you a fright earlier, but, honey, that’s how husbands kiss their wives. Nothing improper about it.”
“I’m not frightened, I’m just not—we don’t need to do any of that,” you huff, embarrassed all over again. “You’ve hardly given me any time to even think. I didn’t know you from Adam this morning and now we’re married.”
Price sighs, the sound muffled through the door. “What am I going to do with you, honey?” It’s said to himself, a fond exasperation that puts you on edge all over again. He has no right to be amused with you, no right to be delighted and charmed by your ire. 
“Well, you can sleep somewhere else for the time being. I’d prefer the bed to myself.”
He lets out a low, dark laugh. “There’s not a chance in hell that I’m sleeping anywhere but with my wife from this point on. You oughta come to terms with that quick.”
“Well then, you can sleep out there because I’m not unlocking the door!”
He lets out a mean sound, almost mocking. “Yeah, ‘bout time I addressed that, huh?”
His words make you frown until you hear a floorboard creak as Price does something on the other side of the door. Then the doorknob jiggles. Horrified, you watch as the door unlocks and the knob turns, your husband’s body filling out the door frame. You’d forgotten how well he could fill one out. He almost has to duck to come inside, mused hair from working outside all day brushing against the top of the frame. 
“Always put a key on the top of the door, just in case,” he explains, pinching the little silver key between his thumb and forefinger before shutting the door. Your heart jumps when he locks it behind him. “Ready to talk now, honey?”
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