#just know that it's been eight or so months since I ran out of refills and I haven't been doing well

[imagines-hoarder]

The Older Man (Pt 2) *smut*- Thomas Shelby

Request// Hey! Will you post a part 2 of “The Older Man”? I would be the happiest person alive =)

*After two years of sitting on the sidelines and focusing on school, I decided to use writing as a way to procrastinate from classes instead of the other way around. Family Divided and My Husband’s Brother fans are gonna kill me cause they have DEFINITELY been waiting longer; maybe more to come? I do also wanna give a little warning; I have not written a full work for this blog in two years and the first part of this story was the peak of my passion. I wanted to give y’all the smut you loved but wasn’t in the mood for angst so let me know if you have any storylines you have in mind for these two and we’ll see how long I’m around for? Please be gentle with my heart! xoxox*

Masterlist

(Part 1)

For those who know him, Tommy is predictable.

When you took a moment to finally watch the man who you had craved for years, you had noticed that he had a routine of his own that ran deeper than his calendar could account for. He was always awake before the sun, and you could only rely on him to find stillness for four hours a night; six if he could find peace. He’d spend the mornings at Charlie’s yard with the horses as day broke and would spend the coming hours in one of his factories across Small Heath. You had spent many years visiting him strictly on Wednesdays for your pay, but he now knew that a sultry touch could convince you just enough to have lunch with him before you left. He’d leave far after the last machine had ground to a halt and his final employee had clocked out. If he was lucky, you would stop by on your way home on the days of your choosing, but time had soon taught him to expect you at random. It had become his welcomed reprieve from drinking alone.

After eight months of finding yourself endlessly tangled into this circumstance with Thomas, you had settled into strange domesticity that was only possible with a man as destructive and dangerous as Tommy.

The smell of his cigarettes reached your nose the moment you unlocked your apartment. He was visible to you only in the dark by the embers glowing between his fingertips. 

“While I enjoy your covert visits as much as the next woman, I thought you would know better than sneaking up one armed with iron by now,” you proclaimed as you brought the room into further clarity by turning on the lamps. A cheeky grin was already stuck to your face by the time you could see him sitting in the wingback chair left by the last tenant. “Frankly, I’m surprised you found your way here before midnight.”

Once you had left Tommy’s office following your first fling, it didn’t take much time and even less convincing for you to find your own flat. It was close to your parents but far enough to keep them from ever knowing how the Tommy they doted on for years was defiling their only child in the dead of night. He didn’t live there, but it’s where he could be found most nights for the few hours he did sleep.

“Is it a crime to want to see you? Haven’t stopped thinking about you since you came to the office two days ago.” He looked so settled in a chair that was so beneath him, common man’s furniture that had faced many years of wear on the leather and scars on the legs.

“Well, sorry to keep you waiting, Mr.Shelby. I had a commitment to attend to this evening.” You moved to grab the empty glass resting loosely in his hands. He took a moment to notice you, no doubt arriving home from a local club. 

“A business commitment, I presume,” he called to you as you walked to the bar, pouring a glass of whiskey for yourself before refilling his own. “Can’t think of a man special enough to see you in such a state.”

You look down at your dress, an attractive piece of fabric that fashionably displayed your assets between layers of chiffon and beading. Your unruly hair had been pinned to display your mischievous eyes and the rouge in your cheeks. “Other than the present company, only the one I shot in the chest an hour ago. He was working for the Italians.”

He gave you a mere nod before you journey back to him. “At least he got a pretty view at the end of his life, didn’t he?”

His warm fingers brushed yours as you returned his glass, putting out his cigarette in the nearby dish before finding a reason to settle. His free hand pulled you to rest with him in the rundown chair, feeling the warmth of his lap underneath you and enjoying the feeling on his palm splayed on your lower back.

“I’m sure there are other things he would have preferred to see at death’s door,” you spoke gently, only loud enough for him to hear as you washed down the night with a gulp from your own glass. “Though I can’t tell if you're jealous or excited at the prospects.” He grunted before emptying his glass again.

“I have nothing to worry about. Couldn’t give a fuck about other men; just my best girl.”

“I’d say you’ve gone soft on me, Thomas, but I can feel how hard you are.” You assumed the waiting and outfit had quickly got the best of him as you felt him against you, his rigid facade contradicting the yearning you knew he felt. You slowly rotated on his lap to face him, your legs positioned to relax on either side of him. You slowly pulled the pins from your hair as he watched, letting it fall into its natural state before pushing the wayward strands behind your ear. “You’re the only one who calls me a girl anymore. I’ve been a woman for a while now, Tommy,” your hands trailed down to his trousers, slowly unveiling what you so eagerly pined for. Warm. He was warm all over and his gaze felt light fire on your face, the glasses finding themselves near the smoldering cigarette as your hand grazed deeper into his pants. “and for many, I am what death looks like.”

His lips crushed yours in a manner all but patient, his hands tangled between your hair and the back of your dress, aching to release you from all barriers between you. His lips sunk to your jaw and neck as he revealed your bare torso, leaving behind a trail of lustful caresses. You took the earliest opportunity to find balance on the ground and slipped out of the dress that pooled at your waist, tugging away your undergarments with it. By the time you had finished, Tommy’s chest was bare and you had the pleasure of freeing his member before you reclaimed your throne on top of him, calves rubbing against the firm leather of the chair.

Your weight sunk onto your knees and you felt him fill you. It was as if it were your first time again; so raw and natural as if he didn’t already own a part of you that you only now realized existed. The room brimmed with your sharp moans and Tommy’s heavy pants as you bounced on top of him. You tried to feel every bit of this moment without getting lightheaded; you didn’t know if he was pulling you closer or you were pushing yourself towards him as the coil snapped in your stomach. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck before you let out a shaky whine in his shoulder.

“No, not yet, love,” he cooed as your soft body began to relax in his grip. It would be a sweet yet peculiar notion, to think the night was over so quickly over. You felt your legs slide from the chair as Tommy pulled you to the ground and you naturally found your position. Your hips were lifted as he reached for them and your shoulders fell to the ground. With your cheek to the floor, you could see him in your periphery, the man with a calloused touch that had reached the most inner parts of your desires. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He pushed himself inside of you, and the cry that left your throat was lewder than you could have expected. As you held onto the legs on the worn chair, Tommy only thrusted deeper between your legs. By the time he was pressed fully against you, he was bucking at a pace of his own. “For fuck’s sake, Tommy!”

He bent against you, and his chest was against your curved back, now roping his arm around your waist so every inch of you was connected to him. “They may see you as a woman out there. But in my office, in your bed...on this bloody fucking chair, you’ll always be my girl,” he gritted out. His breath was hot against your ear as he came deep inside of you, bathing in the thrill of filling you up.

All the noise faded while sweat and slick dried between your bodies. His head rested between your shoulder blades as you laid between his arms on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you laid there, moments or millennia, before you unwound your limbs from his, grabbing your pile of clothes in the process.

“I nearly died in your arms tonight,” he said with a trace of humor on his lips. You tossed him his clothes before you pulled on your bloomers.

“It’s not your time yet, old man.” The glare you received had become a familiar friend in the past year. You knew that behind his scold, he was watching you as if you were art in the making; beauty in the moonlight that he didn’t deserve.

Tommy is predictable. He always had a card up his sleeve, something holding unexpected pleasures or unforeseen schematics. The longer you knew him, the more you were sure that he would always be one step ahead of those who thought they had him pinned. Maybe that's why you kept coming back to him. He was reckless and sometimes detached in order to stay ahead, but he was always calculated and cared for you in a way only a man like him could. He fulfilled a hunger no drug, no fortune, and no other man could ever satiate in you.

He took your hand in his, his rough palms soothing to your senses. “Then we must make all the little moments count until then.” He left hot kisses up your wrist and forearm. “Marry me, Y/N.” You scoffed with a laugh bubbling in your throat, pulling away from him as you walked to your room. You needed a bath more than a joke at the moment. “I’m serious, love. Marry me and I’ll give you a house with endless corridors and new furniture.”

“Maybe I don’t want to marry you, Thomas,” you teased from the other room.

“And maybe I only want to fuck a young woman I’m married to.”

“Then you’ve become quite the prude in the last five minutes!” 

You could retort day and night, but you knew a ring would be on your finger by next week, whether you had blatantly said yes or not. You would never admit it, but you knew that Tommy saw you as predictable too.

Cuties who have asked me to tag them at some point: @buckybarnesisalittleshit @moonlxghtbay @roliepoliegirl  @iamafancygirl @eggingamazinglove @characterobsessed (if you want to be untagged, please message me!)

[jgvfhl]

Help I can't stop--

--writing little fics that all involve saving Fives and sometimes other people and then just having Domino hugs at the end. so. yeah. This one has Tup in it! And an Ao3 link~

no warnings ^_^ about 6400 words, very fluffy by the end

Tup liked the busier nights at work, which he hadn’t quite expected. Bartending was a lot more pressure than working behind the scenes--washing dishes or prepping food before the night started--but Tup honestly liked it. Maybe it was his military training rising to the constant stream of orders and people and voices, or maybe he just liked the other bartenders better than the kitchen staff. Whatever it was, tonight was looking to be one of the busiest that week, and Tup only found happy anticipation to meet it.

Maybe a part of it was bartending meant he didn’t have Fives constantly over his shoulder, watching his every move to make sure he didn’t blow their cover or something. After over eight months here, eight months of considerable safety, he still hadn’t relaxed. The only reason Tup was “allowed” behind the bar in front of the customers was the cantina’s owner, Mira. She was the only reason either of them were alive after literally washing up on her doorstep during flood season, so she held some sway. She’d given them beds, meals, she’d never once threatened to turn them in for desertion--all for the requirement they help the aging weequay with her business, the Mirage cantina and inn. They would be fools to refuse, and if that meant Tup was up front, he went up front.

He still worried, naturally. Not so much about the GAR finding them anymore, not so much about the Jedi coming after him, not so much about how each day would end, those fears had largely subsided. Mostly, he worried about his brothers. Fives had explained the chips to him, as much as he knew. It had been a chilling revelation, and it still gnawed at both of their minds, despite having theirs removed. It was constant knowledge that each of his brothers had a ticking time bomb stowed in the back of their brain, just waiting to turn them all against the very people they were built to serve. Fives had sent an encrypted comm to the first person he thought might know how to help: Kix. Hopefully the medic would be prudent with the little knowledge Fives had sent, and hopefully he would know to keep it a damn secret until something concrete could be done about it.

Despite this--despite all of this--Tup had to leave it be. This little riverside town in the far outer rim rarely got news of the war unless battles approached, and just about no mention of Corusanti or Republic politics at all. He had no way to know what was happening. He had no way to affect what was happening. He had to leave it be. Tonight was busy enough without adding the small chaos of his own inner thoughts.

Fives had yet to accept this. Fives… Tup had been serving with Fives for almost a year now. He’d been through plenty of battles with him, hell, he’d survived Umbara with Fives. Fives had a way of… condensing his personality on the field, a way of putting the softer and more vulnerable parts of himself carefully away into some safebox behind walls to protect it from whatever he saw or did in the heat of war. But, afterwards, the old jokes and friendly punches came back in full force, usually helping everyone relax after the battle.

Fives hadn’t taken that safebox out yet.

In fact, Tup wasn’t sure Fives had escaped Ringo Vinda yet. He still saw the same guarded expressions, the same sharp, scrutinizing stare from the field. Maybe it was Tup’s “youth” showing. Shininess. But it had been over eight months since they’d escaped Kamino, and well over six since they’d faced any real danger. Fives couldn’t keep those walls up forever, could he?

Tup couldn’t really remember the last time he’d heard him laugh.

“You got everything you need over there?”

Tup pulled his mind back to his job. “Yeah, thanks, Dan,” he turned to his co-worker over his shoulder. Danula was Mira’s granddaughter, and definitely Tup’s favorite to work with out of the other bartenders. They got along famously--the first nattie friend he’d ever had.

“Looked a little lost in thought,” she replied. “Can’t have that on a busy night, you know?”

“Yeah, ‘course not,” Tup nodded, already moving to refill a pair of glasses. Service with a smile. Wasn’t that one of General Fisto’s mottos? He could have sworn he’d heard it from one of Commander Monnk’s men. Maybe in the same conversation about eating raw seafood like it was okay (which it wasn’t, it was disgusting). At least on a drier planet, he didn’t have that to bother him.

Tup caught sight of one of the regulars making his way through the crowded cantina. He glanced over his shoulder again at Dan, who was now at the other side of the circular bar. She’d be happy to see him.

“Hey, Carreth, good to see you,” Tup greeted the weequay who had arrived.

“Minnow--” Tup’s cover name, part of the precautions of desertion-- “a busy night, I see,” he smiled, craning his neck to catch a glance at Dan behind Tup. Mira and everyone who worked at the cantina knew about Carreth’s crush on Dan. Mira was fine with it, Dan’s parents were fine with it. Dan… had literally only figured it out last week. She was warming quickly to it, though. Carreth was nice, and frankly, too far gone to do anything stupid.

“Yeah, Mirage is a popular place this week,” Tup answered. “I’ll grab Dan for you.”

“Ah--I should tell you,” Carreth said, raising a hand and leaning in. “I noticed a group of your ah… family in town. They might make an appearance.”

Brothers. Tup paused, putting down the bottle of rum he’d pulled for Carreth. “How many? Can you tell me the color of their armor?”

“Kind of… black and red?” Carreth answered, tapping a finger on his chin between two horns. “Only five of them.”

Black and red? Odd. But he just nodded, casting an eye towards the doors. “Thanks for the heads up.” He filled a glass of Carreth’s preferred Corellian rum and left the bottle, then turned to get Dan.

He nearly bowled her over instead, only catching himself with half a second to spare. “Whoa! Hey, sorry--”

“Clones--at the door,” she said at the same time.

He looked. Well. He’d be hard-pressed to miss the guy who looked more Alpha-class than CT, which was more than a little worrying. But he didn’t recognize the armor at all. It didn’t even look regulation. Who were these guys?

“Okay, okay, yeah,” he said, seeing the new arrivals had put Dan on edge almost more than they had him. “Carreth just told me, he’s over there.”

“He did--wait, when--oh.” He turned her around and gave her a gentle push towards her admirer.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?” Force, he was happy Fives had the night off. He would have dragged Tup out of the bar and upstairs to their room before Carreth had finished the warning.

Tup stood his ground, now switched places with Dan on the bar. He kept an eye on the squad of five, watching carefully as they found a table on the edge of the room, then even more carefully as two of them made their way up to the bar in the center of the room.

Dan--Maker bless her--nearly gave up Carreth’s winning smiles to take their orders, but Tup wanted to find out exactly what they were doing here. He waved his hand at her, urging her back to her station.

The two men did stop and stare when he faced them over the bar. “What can I do for you?”

He used their pause to get a better look at them. The one on the left had long dark curls held out of his face by a red bandana with a small skull visible on one side of it. Speaking of skulls, it must have been their squad symbol, because half a skull was tattooed in black over the left side of his face, and the design was replicated in white on the helmet under his arm. The other, Tup had to do a double take, only because he’d never seen a clone with… studs? Ports? Metal… things implanted into his head, clearly visible because of his close haircut. Another quick glance caught the glint of cybernetic metal for a right hand. This guy had seen some things.

“Hi,” the first clone said, a little hesitant.

“This is a surprise,” the other said, a bit more confident. “Pleasant one, I guess.”

Tup shrugged. “As long as you’re not gonna get me in trouble, there won’t be any unpleasant ones.”

The second clone smiled and nodded. “I think some drinks and credits are all that need to change hands here.”

Tup liked this guy. Or at least respected him. “I can do that.”

The tattooed clone rattled off the orders in a way that said these were regular drink requests from the squad.

As he busied himself pulling out five glasses for them, the second clone asked, “Is that a tattoo there?”

Tup looked up to see his head tilted curiously, left hand pointing under his own right eye. “Uh… yeah.” He’d used to keep the teardrop tattoo covered, either a bandage or makeup when Dan could help him, but he’d been leaving it bare lately. Abruptly, Tup was aware that his looks hadn’t changed that much since Ringo Vinda. His hair was still long enough to keep in a bun, and the only difference was the shaved right side of his head where the chip had been removed. He hadn’t wanted to shave his whole head to start over, and he kind of liked the new look. But he still looked a lot like… well. Himself.

“I served with a brother with a mark like that, just looks familiar,” the clone said.

Small talk, clone style. Tup could do this. “Yeah, what was he like? Or is like.”

The other shrugged. “Kinda quiet, pretty nice kid. Didn’t know him for that long before…” He rubbed his head. “Well. Before a few incidents.” Tup could only imagine. “Never found out what happened to him, though. Guess he ran off before I got out.”

His squadmate turned a raised brow on him. “This the one your batcher dragged off about the…” He glanced at Tup. “The thing?”

Tup tried not to stare too pointedly as he finished off the third drink and moved on to the last two--the more complicated orders of the group. That sounded an awful lot like Fives talking about the chips.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Tup.”

He was rather proud of himself for not losing focus and completely ruining the cocktail by adding about three times the vodka needed by freezing up while pouring. But also who the ever-loving kriff were these guys? He started running through what the bandana-ed clone had just said. Unfortunately, he was stopped mid-review by the other one interrupting his thoughts.

“Hey, that reminds me. Can I ask something?”

Tup carefully finished the drink at hand and nodded, now kind of wishing he’d let Dan handle this. “Sure.”

“You haven’t seen any other clones since you… left, have you?”

“No, don’t think so.” Technically not a lie. He and Fives hadn’t seen any others since deserting. But, he could no longer avoid the obvious question of his own. “Can I--um… what do I call you?”

“Echo.”

Well. Tup was pretty sure there would only be one Echo who knew his name and might even be looking for him. There was only, of course, the small hurdle of his supposed death about… a year and, what--five months ago? But that might be the “incidents” he had mentioned earlier, and of course, it would explain his mention of the batchmate Tup had disappeared with.

Fives.

“Give me a minute,” he said, and hurried over to Dan across the way.

She must have been hyper-aware of the little conversation, because she had turned around before he made it to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, I promise,” he said. “I just need you to fill in for a few minutes, there’s something I need to take care of, then I’ll be right back, okay?”

“What?”

“Just--” He floundered a moment, debating how much to tell her. “I know one of them. He’s Blue’s best friend--like best best friend--they haven’t seen each other in a year, longer than that.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Please, they need to talk to each other, I just need to bring him upstairs, okay? Nothing’s wrong.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, her already lined skin gaining more furrows. But, eventually, she nodded, shooing him away with her hands. “Fine, but I’m not finishing this shift on my own.”

“I’ll be back,” he promised again, moving to the little door in the circular bar. He weaved his way around customers to Echo. “Hi, I’ll start over,” he began, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the music. “I’m Tup, Fives is upstairs, I’m taking you to him, okay? Cool.”

Without waiting for an answer (because it had to be yes), he grabbed Echo’s wrist and began tugging him through the throngs of people and around tables towards the “Employees Only” door that led upstairs. Echo didn’t protest. In fact, he didn’t even say much except to add to Tup’s many “excuse mes” and “thank yous” as they pushed through people to get to the stairs.

But once the door had swung back shut again, he pulled Tup up.

“What?”

Echo breathed a quiet laugh. “Hello to you too, Tup. Take a breath.”

Tup released his wrist and let him climb the stairs at his own pace. In doing so, he finally noticed Echo’s boots didn’t look quite right, and it took him several seconds to realize this was because there were no feet attached. The more he looked, he recognized cybernetics from at least the knees down on both legs. “Oh, sorry.” He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for dragging Echo away or for not realizing what had changed.

“It’s okay.” He put a hand on Tup’s shoulder as they climbed. “How are you both? You and Fives.”

“I’m pretty good,” he answered, silently agonizing over the slower pace Echo had set. “Fives is uh…” He paused, trying to find words that wouldn’t alarm Echo too much. “He’s… been better?”

Echo raised a brow at him, hesitating a step before continuing at a slightly faster pace. “What do you mean?”

Tup sighed. “He’s… I dunno. It’s like he’s…” Words failed him again, and now they had reached the landing on the second floor. The room he and Fives shared was only five doors down. “It’s like he’s hollow, but he’s too full of too much at the same time. It’s why I didn’t want to wait for him to see you.”

Echo nodded, gesturing for Tup to lead on. “I understand. Probably wouldn’t have wanted to wait even if he was okay.”

A knot of anticipation was slowly tightening in Tup’s chest as they approached the door and Tup knocked. He knew Fives was here, and it was technically Tup’s room too, but Fives didn’t like surprises. Anymore, at least. This had to work. If there was anyone in the galaxy who could get Fives out of this person hell he’d put himself in, it was Echo, right? That was how it worked: Echo and Fives, Fives and Echo, the Domino twins, always. Tup wasn’t sure what he’d do if this didn’t work.

______

The first thing that struck Echo about the room was the clear division of lived-in disorder and absent organisation. The room itself was clearly meant for customers and had simply been repurposed to allow Fives and Tup to live there semi-permanently. There were two beds, a connected ‘fresher near the door, a table with two lamps between the beds--all the trappings of a typical (if low-end) motel. But the bed farthest from the door remained impeccably made up in military fashion, there were no personal belongings out that weren’t currently in use, not even a stray sock. It was a CO’s dream, sure, but…

He looked at the other bed--Tup’s bed. It was made, but not impeccably so. There were stray clothes in one corner, a datapad thrown on the covers, little knickknacks on the table beside it. It looked lived in. Tup had claimed this space, a while ago, from the looks of it. Echo remembered the state Fives’ bunk had been in sometimes, the utter chaos happening below his own bunk. What had happened?

“Fives?” Tup stopped where the room widened out to their sleeping area, and Echo stopped behind him.

His batchmate was sitting cross-legged on his bed with a mouse droid in front of him in carefully disassembled pieces, next to a soldering kit and a datapad. He looked a bit like Tech at the moment, except for the distinct lack of goggles and the tank top and shorts.

But it was definitely Fives. Same little tattoo on his temple, same stupid goatee on his chin.

“What’s wrong?” Fives asked, not looking up from the mouse droid’s guts. Echo frowned a little. Tup hadn’t been exaggerating. He sounded… flat.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Tup answered. “There’s someone you should see, is all.”

That made Fives look up, and his reaction was instantaneous. He shoved the soldering iron into its holder with one hand while the other found a blaster pistol that had been hidden behind his body on the bed and raised it at Echo. “Who the hell is that?” he growled in a voice Echo had only ever associated with battle. The voice alone was enough to set him on edge, like Fives had just given a warning of enemy incoming and hadn’t just pointed his blaster at him.

“It’s Echo!” Tup shot back, stepping more fully in front of him--between him and the blaster. “Fives, it’s Echo. Maker’s sake, put the blaster down.”

“Echo’s dead, and people lie,” Fives replied in the same stern voice as he rose from the bed to stand at its foot. “Get away from him.” The pistol never wavered, true to ARC standards.

Echo knew he was unrecognizable. When he’d arrived at the RMB on Anaxes after being rescued from Skako Minor, it had been painfully obvious just how much he didn’t look like himself from the way that Jesse and Kix and Hardcase and the others had reacted. Now, with a different haircut, and metal limbs, and no handprint of any kind on his armor, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that Fives didn’t believe it was him. But it still hurt like something vital had just crumpled inside his chest.

“Fives!” There was a note of desperation in Tup’s voice now. How long had they been living like this? Echo remembered the urgency with which Tup had dragged him up here, not even bothering to find out what they were doing here, or if they were a threat to their safety. A while, then.

“Get. Away.”

“No! This is ridiculous!”

“You can scan my wrist if you want,” Echo cut in, holding up his remaining arm. “ID tattoo.” The subdermal pattern of invisible ink would pull up his public military record on any device, displaying his designation and current and previous stations.

This made Fives pause, actually thinking about it.

“Please, Fives?” Tup asked.

After a tense moment, Fives exhaled sharply through his nose, which meant he had relented. He pointed towards a dresser with his free hand. “Fine, grab the scanner.”

Tup took a step forward, then paused to ask, “You’re not gonna shoot him, right?”

A muscle in Fives’ jaw flexed. “I’m not gonna shoot him.”

Tup still moved cautiously, keeping a close eye on Fives as he left his position between Echo and the blaster aimed at him. For his part, Echo slowly moved to take off his vambrace and glove on his left hand, then pulling up the sleeve of his blacks a few inches. Tup stood in front of the dresser between them, fiddling with the handheld scanner.

“Do you wanna do this?” he said to Fives, sounding… tired. Poor kid.

Fives shook his head. “You do it.” It was the gentlest his voice had sounded since they’d walked in. It gave Echo some hope. If Fives could still care this much about keeping Tup safe, the rest of him was still in there. It was just a little buried.

Tup walked over and he held out his wrist for him. The scanner sort of… tickled a bit, after being part of a computer for several months with the Techno Union. It seemed whatever they did to him had made him a bit more sensitive to the electromagnetic spectrum. The stripes of the ID tattoo lit up blue briefly as the device picked them up, and there was a soft beep when it finished.

“Sorry about this,” Tup murmured while the device was processing.

“Don’t, it’s not your fault,” Echo replied with a small smile.

He returned to Fives, holding out the device as a hologram display appeared from it:

ARC-1409

Formerly 501 Legion, Torrent Co

MIA: [unavailable]

POW retrieved from [unavailable] by Gen. Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567, CF99

Reassigned to CF99

It was different than the one Echo had seen, because the GAR devices and droids could pull up his full record, dates included, but it had the important stuff. Echo skimmed the short document, then watched Fives read it through. He saw his batchmate’s eyes hover on the picture in the upper left corner, taken about a month after his rescue. He looked much better now than in that picture. Fives read it through twice, and after the second time through, he reached out and took the device from Tup. The arm holding the pistol lowered its aim from Echo’s head to his feet.

“I have a shift to finish,” Tup said, stepping away once the scanner was out of his hands. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.”

Fives didn’t respond, just watched Tup turn and leave.

And that left the two of them alone.

For a moment or two, they didn’t move. Fives seemed lost in thought after reading the document, and Echo didn’t want to startle him. Eventually, he clicked the device off and set it down on top of the dresser, the arm with the blaster now hanging loose at his side.

“How did you find us?” he asked quietly, still facing the dresser. His voice was still unreadable to the inexperienced ear, but Echo could hear a difference. He was still wary. But he wasn’t actively threatening him, and that was a distinct improvement.

“Accident,” Echo replied truthfully. “We needed to stop for fuel after a mission, and the boys wanted a drink, so…” He figured the rest of the story was self-explanatory. When Fives didn’t follow with another question, he added, “Do you believe it’s me now?”

Fives’ empty hand slowly curled into a fist on top of the dresser, then slowly relaxed. “I think so,” he answered.

“Can I ask you to put the blaster down?”

His batchmate looked down at the weapon, like he’d only just noticed it. After another moment of thought, he set it down beside the scanner, then finally looked up at Echo. “What happened to you?”

He shrugged. He was used to people staring at him by now, with all his machinery, and even more used to that question. “An explosion and a few mad scientists.” He took a step towards Fives, encouraged when he made no move for the blaster in response. “The Seppies handed me over to the Techno Union after they pulled me out of The Citadel.” He gestured to his legs and head with his prosthetic hand. “They did all this.”

“Why?”

Echo took another step towards him, scrutinizing his face for the tells and signs he had grown up learning. Even ARC training couldn’t hide it all from him, so despite the emotionless front Fives had put up--and had had on since Echo had walked in, he could tell a few things. Most glaringly, he was exhausted. Beyond exhausted, in some aspects. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping well, if at all, for days at a time, if the shadows under his eyes were anything to go by.

“To get the strategic algorithm,” he answered, keeping his voice soft and even, giving no signs he could see how bad Fives looked. “The one I made with Rex. I guess they were using it on Anaxes about two and a half months after you and Tup left. Rex recognized it, and that’s how they found me.” Fives nodded. He looked numb behind the exhaustion. He rubbed his face roughly, and Echo took another couple steps forward. “No one’s coming after you, Fives.”

He watched his shoulders tense, hands still over his face.

“I mean it. The stuff you sent to Kix about the chips--you did the right thing. We’ve figured a lot of it out, we know Tup wasn’t in control of himself on Ringo Vinda. We know someone set this whole thing up. No one is coming after you, I promise.”

Slowly, Fives’ hands lowered from his face, and Echo’s heart leapt. Finally, he could see something in his eyes. They were no longer forcefully void of emotion, guarded by walls built during ARC training. It would have made Echo smile, if what he saw hadn’t been such overwhelming loneliness. It made sense now that Tup had described a kind of hollowness. If he’d seen something like it before Citadel, he would have wasted no time dragging his brother into a hug and not letting go until he felt the stress ease from his muscles. But then was not now. Fives was hurting, yes. But Echo had to be patient.

He stayed put as Fives moved again, this time over to the foot of the bed to sit on the floor, leaning back against the bedframe. Drained. “Is Tup mad at me?”

Echo did smile then, a small smile, and a little sad. “Oh, Fives,” he sighed.

Fives, always loyal to his brothers first, and the Republic second. Fives, who had always hated being left alone for any amount of time, no matter how brief. Fives, who had always spent extra time with the shinies after their first battles to make sure they took care of themselves. Fives, who had sensed the chips ran deeper than first thought, and risked his life gathering what he could to save his brothers. Fives, who had suddenly found himself without anyone, except Tup, and had done everything in his power to keep his little brother safe, no matter what it would do to him.

“No, I don’t think he’s mad at you,” he finally said, walking the few steps over until he was standing to Fives’ left. “A little frustrated you did this to yourself, maybe. But not angry.” He gestured to the floor next to his brother. “Can I sit?”

Fives nodded, barely a dip of the chin. “I just wanted to keep him safe,” he said in a very small voice.

“You did,” Echo told him as he sat down next to him, but facing towards him. “You did a great job. No one even thought to look here, no one had any idea where you two had gone.” He set down his glove and his vambrace that he’d been carrying since taking them off. Then he started taking off the rest of the armor on his arm, setting it all in a pile off to his far side.

Fives watched him, curious, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he wanted to know, “What did you find out about the chips?”

Echo frowned as he unclipped the sides of his chest plate and pulled the whole thing over his head. He wanted Fives to relax, to let go of the stress he’d been carrying. Talking about what they’d discovered, and what they had yet to figure out, would just get him thinking again. “Do I have to tell you now?” When Fives’ only response was dropping his gaze to the floor between his feet with a minuscule shrug, Echo elaborated. “Fives, as your batchmate, let me say this: you are dead tired. You look like you’ve been running on fumes--mentally and emotionally, if not physically--for about two weeks. Kix would scrape the medic symbol off his shoulder bell if he let you go anywhere in this state. I would rather wait until tomorrow, so I can make sure you get a good night’s rest and some breakfast, and then I will tell you and Tup everything. Okay?”

Fives knew he was right. Echo knew that he knew he was right. He drew his knees up to his chest and rubbed his face again. “Okay,” he sighed, but he didn’t look happy about it.

Echo smiled again. “You know you missed my nagging,” he said, holding out his hand.

To his utter delight, the corners of Fives’ mouth pulled up ever so slightly. He put out his hand, hesitated a little, but finally let it land in Echo’s. “Yeah, I did,” he agreed, linking their thumbs and holding tight. He let his head fall back against the mattress behind him, avoiding his brother’s gaze, but Echo’s trained eye saw the muscles in his neck constrict, saw the small stutter in his breathing, and he already knew.

“Looks like rain, huh?” he said quietly, squeezing his brother’s hand. It was an old code from Domino’s cadet days. They had all been so damn stubborn, none of them had wanted to admit when they needed a good cry. So, they had used Kamino’s weather as a cover. Fives and Echo had kept it up, even when it no longer made sense on a ship in the middle of hyperspace, for example.

Fives shut his eyes tightly and nodded, squeezing his hand in return.

“C’mere.”

He uncurled from where he sat against the bed and let Echo gather him up in his arms, holding him against his unarmored chest--because he had been pretty sure it would end up like this. Fives pressed his face into his left shoulder immediately, wrapping both arms around his torso and digging his fingers into his blacks. Echo rested his chin on his brother’s hair and put his hand on the back of his neck, holding him there while he unraveled.

How long had it been since he had seen his last batchmate? Something approaching two years at this point. Echo hugged tighter upon remembering that, and upon remembering what it had been like trying to put his life back together after the Techno Union without him. He was determined to keep Fives from going through anything like it now, even if this reunion was far from what he might have imagined.

After some time Echo didn’t bother to track, he felt Fives settle in his arms and heard his breathing descend to a more normal pace. He pressed a kiss to his head and ruffled his hair. As much as he hated hearing Fives cry, this was light years better than the calculating and emotionless man who’d had a blaster pointed at him a few minutes ago. It hurt, yes, but it was human. If it made Echo’s heart twinge a little, it was worth it to know this was normal.

“Feel better?” he murmured. Fives nodded silently, loosening his death-grip on his brother’s blacks. “Can we get off the floor now? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

The noise Fives made was somewhere between a sob and a cough as he sat up from where he’d been slumped against Echo’s chest. But he was smiling, weakly, so it must have been a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

Echo helped him wipe away a few stray tears. “You’re a kriffing mess, brother,” he smirked. “Maybe you can get some sleep until Tup’s shift ends, hm?”

“You’re staying, yeah?”

“Of course I’m staying,” he assured him, a little affronted he would think otherwise. Fives nodded, letting his head fall forward until their foreheads touched. Echo leaned in and felt a shaky breath of relief leave his lips.

“I really need a drink.”

Echo sat up with a smile. “You and me both, but I think sleep will be better for you.”

______

It was a little after midnight by the time Tup had finished his shift and he was climbing the stairs to his room again, this time with three beers in his hands, because he felt bad about whisking Echo off without filling his order. Echo’s new squad was still downstairs. He’d explained what had happened to them, and they had all been surprisingly accepting of it. Echo must have told them about Fives.

He hesitated in front of his door, one hand on the handle. He couldn’t hear anything from inside, which… was probably good, right? They’d had over two hours to themselves. Either they’d settled things, or they’d stunned each other. Well. He pushed the door open, knocking on it lightly as he did so.

“Hey, guys, I’m back.” He walked softly until he was in the main part of the room, then he smiled.

Echo and Fives were laid out on Fives’ bed, the latter tucked safely under his batchmate’s arm. It was the first time Tup had actually seen Fives asleep in weeks. Usually, he was still up when Tup went to bed, and awake before Tup got up. It was also the first time in months Fives had willingly put himself in contact with another person. He noticed Echo’s full kit was piled at the foot of the bed, along… along with his legs, yes. He was still getting used to that.

Echo was blinking sleepily when Tup walked in. “Hey, Tup,” he smiled. “Those for us?”

Tup held up the three bottles. “Yeah. I… felt kinda bad you didn’t get your drink earlier.”

Echo nodded. “Oh, it’s alright. But, I will certainly take that drink now, as soon as I get this lump off my arm.” He waved the hand attached to the arm Fives had pinned down.

Tup walked over and sat down on the end of the bed where Echo’s feet weren’t. “I’m glad he’s asleep.”

“Yeah, me too,” his older brother agreed, rubbing Fives’ shoulder. “But, I said I’d wake him up when you came back.” He patted Fives’ shoulder a bit more aggressively. “Come on, brother.”

It took a while, but it worked eventually. Fives grumbled quietly, at first shoving his face deeper into the pillows before Echo dragged his arm out from under him, then he hauled himself upright. Echo similarly pushed himself up, leaning against his brother.

“Hey, Fives,” Tup said, still a little uncertain.

Fives rubbed his eyes, then blinked groggily at him. Echo ruffled his hair roughly to help him wake up, and a tiny smile appeared on his face. A real one, too, not one of the tight, professional smiles Tup had seen him use in the past. “Hey, Tup.”

A huge smile lit up Tup’s face. Echo had done it. “That’s more like it,” he said triumphantly.

“Yeah, I know,” Fives said, looking a bit sheepish, which was awesome, because Tup hadn’t seen many emotions out of him other than a range of unhappy in way too long. “Sorry about… everything.”

Tup’s smile softened a bit. “Thank you. It’s okay--I mean, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He nodded back. “Yeah, well… we’re getting there.” His eyes landed on the drinks in Tup’s hand. Tup had picked out one he knew was a favorite. “Those aren’t being saved for any special occasion, are they?” he asked, gesturing to them.

Tup smirked and held them up. “Just this one,” he answered, and handed them out.

He was about to get up to get a bottle opener, then watched as Echo’s cybernetic hand plucked off the cap like it was nothing. Fives blinked at his batchmate’s open bottle, then held out his to open as well. Echo rolled his eyes, but obliged. Fives smiled again, clinking their bottles together before taking a swig.

Echo held out his hand to Tup, whose bottle remained unopened. “It’s the most hand-like thing this thing can do, please,” he urged, so Tup held out his bottle and let him open it.

Then Fives scooched back to sit against the headboard and gestured Tup over as well. “C’mere,” he said, “I’ve been a dick to you, I should start making it up.”

Tup gave another huge grin and got up to get on the other side of the bed. “Good to have you back,” he said, maybe a little smug, as he kicked off his shoes and carefully climbed in so he didn’t spill his drink.

“Glad to be here,” Fives said, putting an arm around Tup’s neck and tapping their foreheads together lightly. “Good on you for bringing in the heavy artillery,” he added, gesturing with his bottle to Echo on his other side.

Tup could only give a nonverbal sound in reply as he took a drink. Then he sighed contentedly and relaxed against Fives’ side. He hadn’t quite realized how much stress he had been carrying because of Fives, and it was all leaving him in a rush, like he’d just taken off his kit after a twelve-hour march. He felt light, and happy, and safe. And hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long before they could really go home, and he could see the rest of his brothers. The thought made him smile as he listened absently to Fives and Echo chat about nothing in particular. Yeah. This was good.

[gyllousos]

Warnings: Depression, masochists, language.

Copyright @ gyllousos 2021. All rights reserved.

Dedicated to @the-grimm-writer

_________________________________________

Hannya despised hospitals. She hated the smell of disinfectant, the plain white walls decorated with awareness for the human body, as well as the chairs in the waiting room. Not that the one she was sitting in was uncomfortable, yet her ass felt like a pin cushion since she'd been in the thing for well over an hour and counting. Just ten minutes ago she had gone to the vending machine for a soda, downing the Sprite in one gulp.

She was still staring into the empty soda can as though it would refill with more of the carbonated beverage. Her thumb pressed into the side, crinkling the corner. Above her a TV played an old show, something about two children using their imagination to escape into a new world.

One where they forgot about all the bad stuff, even for a moment, a paradise for two. A haven. Thinking about that made a lump swell in Hannya's throat. She set her can onto a nearby table, curling her hands into her lap. A nail dug into the fabric of her leggings, she winced at the bruise there. It was still throbbing a week later, still sore. Her back arched from the cut diagonal cut, also a week old, but it didn't pulse like the thigh bruise did.

Her old cuts and bruises hurt most days, even though half of them were healed for weeks, despite their ugliness in the beginnings. She used to never recognize herself in the mirror after they fucked. Not screwed, but fucked until she lay beneath him unable to move, a quivering mess of orgasm.

God. She was truly sick.

She inhaled slowly through her nose. Hannya refused to cry in this place. One of the nurses had been looking at her so often, a pitying look in her eyes. Hannya avoided eye contact.

She knew that nurse too well, she'd nearly made a home here. But that was long ago. And the nurse, a petite brunette with gentle doe eyes was always so kind to her.

Vague flashes of Hannya in a room where she was monitored, wearing a gown, and counting the hours on the clock to her meds. No, she wasn't going down memory lane again.

What if she broke again? But not because of him.

Dabi.

ㅤHe twisted the fabric of her shirt, bunching tightly. There were tearing sounds. Fraying sounds. Dragging her to within inches of his leering, predatory smile.

ㅤHer shirt came away in a ribbon, leaving her in unkempt, scant rags. He sneered, pinching a nipple as her pert little breasts jiggled free. Dabi tweaked the nipple, and swatted her breast with an open-palmed slap.

Hannya let out a cry between a gasp and a moan.

Dabi clenched his fist around her throat, thrust his arm so she was pinned to the wall behind her. One hand constricted the air from her lungs, while the other twisted cruelly on the same nipple from before.

"Scared yet?"

"No."

ㅤㅤ"No need to lie."

ㅤHis other hand slipped low, her breast freed from his cruel touch only for his hot breath to caress it. Dabi sank teeth into her its supple flesh, snakelike tongue uncoiled to writhe slick against the nipple. His loose fingers delved between her thighs, groping a handful of her warm, tender sex.

ㅤHe didn’t need her to black out from the choking, but it was designed so that every throb of pleasure he squeezed into her body lightened her head. A cruel, sadistic practice to strangle every last drop of ecstasy, to send her spirit into heaven but her body to hell.

Dabi's fingers were long and defined, two sunken deep into the supple heat of her cunt. His pace, merciless. The villain ground the heel of his wrist firmly against her clit, assaulting every inch. He worked in and out of her with aggressive vigor, stirring up loud, sloppy noises from her.

She felt him adjust, she bit her lip from the harsh penetration when he slammed himself into her, those haunting blue eyes never leaving her face.

"You're mine, Hannya."

"I'm yours."

"If another man looks at you the way I look at you, or even thinks about fucking you, I'll split his goddamn skull."

Hannya snapped back to reality at the alert of her name being called. She remembered now that she had been called into the exam room for tests. The gown felt paper thin on her, exposing her to the nurse who held her clipboard in hand.

She hadn't commented on the palm bruise on her thigh or the cut on her back. Hannya was almost relieved her skin was back to semi-normal. It had been a long time since she last been here. How long ago?

Three years since her last attempt.

"You're doing well Hannya, much better since your last visit with us. You've been keeping up with all of your appointments, last time you were hear you had bad anemia and an infection. You bounced back like a champ. "

Hannya smiled faintly. The plump old woman reminded her of a doting grandma.

"Your appetite back to normal?"

"Yes ma'm. Everything is good."

She tried best to hide the clip in her speech.

"Now that we're following up, I'd like to wait for the rest of your test results to come in."

Hannya hid her impatience, wishing time would go forward, she could grab her things and leave. Back to her home where she could close off the world. Block everyone out. Would Dabi be waiting for her? For once, she didn't want to see him. As much as their sadistic games were fun time both of them, she just didn't have the desire. No other man could get her off the way Dabi did.

Lately, she dreaded seeing him propped in her couch, or getting a text from him. She could damn near feel him without him being near. A moment later, when the same woman poked her head in, Hannya actually beamed.

The door closed behind her.

That's when Hannya left the hospital in a daze, barely clutching her phone and purse, she didn't even know she drove home until she parked in the driveway. Turning off the engine, she sat in stunned silence, her knuckles tight onto the steering wheel.

God, she just wanted to turn back time to the last month, the last year, erase everything. She was numb enough as is and she hoped Dabi wasn't waiting on her. She just couldn't take it right now.

“No,” she said, barely audible. The nurse's words echoing in her ears once more.

A sob escaped her. She dragged herself out of her vehicle, barely registering her feet moving towards her home, inside of her apartment. She locked the door behind her. And didn't have to look around to see a tall man with spiked dark hair and a smile that gave her goosebumps.

"Dabi..."

"Miss me?"

Her legs felt like jelly. Her heart was being so fast she feared it rip itself through her chest. Hannya's knees shook, and her heart hammered in my chest. She felt like she was already walled in, and she didn’t even know it.

“I wish I’d never met you,” she said, almost whispering.

He stopped, his boots creaking the wooden floor under him. “Believe me, girl, the feeling is fucking mutual.”

No arguments, no shouting, no cursing even though she wanted to spew a blue streak at him. Eventually she fell onto her knees, the metallic clink of a belt and a zipper being pulled down; she parted her lips for Dabi's cock already slick with precum. She swallowed him into the back of her throat.

"Good girl," he praised her, stroking the back of her head.

___________________________________________

Hannya hadn't seen Dabi since that day, what felt like over a month had turned into sixteen months. As much as she didn't care, she ached for him, and not in the sexual sense. She truly yearned for his company if she could actually believe it. Just what happened to him after that?

No texts, no calls. No sudden appearing without warning. Poof! He never told her he was leaving. Then again he never told her a lot of anything. Hannya often dreamt of him, as the little boy named Touya. The same boy who came crying to her in the catacombs and she to him. Two kids yearning for a place in the world.

She hadn't given up hope she'd see him again, if ever. Hannya swiped her fingers across her phone screen, tucking her device back into her pocket, her blue eyes swiveled up the moon, an ache swelling in her chest.

"I'm losing it..." She mumbled, proceeding to walk. She was patting her pockets for her car keys when a hand snaked its way around her forearm, dragging her into a brick corner, pinning her against a wall.

She couldn't scream because of the stranger's hand covering her mouth. Her eyes doubled in size, his sinister smirk making her skin flush.

Touya!

"Dabi." It came out as a muffle.

"Like you've seen a ghost," he sneered, letting her go.

"For a minute I thought I did..." She whispered.

His eyes raked over her outfit, eyes narrowing in on her chest. He sure knew how to make her vulnerable, naked without undressing her. So he hadn't left after all. Was he hiding from her?

He was never far to begin with. Something told her this wasn't a social visit, she needed to get home before she did something like kiss him. He'd take her right here in public. Wouldn't be the first time.

"I was looking for you, " she said.

"Is that a fact?" His voice was utterly emotionless. Not the least bit of warmth.

"I suppose I was looking for you, too. You made a big mistake Hannya."

The way he said it made Hannya scoot an inch from him.

"What are you talking about?" Hannya remained composed, furrowing her dark brows. Dabi only advanced.

"Telling lies, keeping secrets. It was all gonna come out eventually, you just should have been more careful."

"Dabi..." He chuckled, one hand stuffed in his jacket pocket.

"I...I meant to find you...I was looking for my family."

Dabi almost laughed, shaking his head slightly.

"You were looking for a family, huh? One could argue it's my family you’re looking for right? How are my baby boy and girl by the way? Got my eyes don't they?"

All the color drained from Hannya's face.

A glimpse into memory had her back in the exam room months ago.

"We ran more tests Hannya. Your bloodwork shows you’re also pregnant, a little over eight weeks along. Congratulations.”

Why couldn't the Earth just swallow her whole now? There's no way he could have known. No she wouldn't have told him right away, if at all. He wouldn't have been a great father. When she was told she was pregnant Hannya wanted to cry, scream, break something or even someone. The last thing she had ever wanted inflicted on her had happened, she was in such hysterics she nearly fainted.

Why couldn't it have been anyone but him? The raw cry she let out. She imagined life with two tiny humans, ones she could give unconditional love to. Innocent souls. Her twins. She knew she was going to keep them, her darling babies. How she tried to keep them from Dabi and now...

"You knew...how long..."

"Does it matter? You honestly didn't think you could hide them from me forever Hannya. You should know better than that." His voice was almost a taunt.

"Try keeping them away from me, if you so much as leave with them I'll burn everything down in my path, everyone, to get what I want."

It was like a slap in the face. He wouldn't? Right? No, he had no rights towards their children. Her children. As far as Hannya knew Dabi was just the sperm donor.

Hannya scowled.

Dabi smirked.

He was right, the twins got his eyes alright.

Still advancing, Dabi pinned Hannya to the rough brick wall, his nose level with hers. He didn't want to admit he missed his little devil. He had to resist the urge to to tear off her clothing and fuck her until she was begging him to stop. God, her scent. She couldn't have been more beautiful, plump lips, inviting breasts, fair skin he wanted to mark again.

"I'll be watching you and our children, doll. Who would have thought..."

He gripped her oncoming wrist from slapping him. Should he break it? No. Some other time. He released her, backing up to give her space, almost yearning for the closeness again. No more talk, he left quietly as he came. He heard the faint falling of Hannya on her knees, cursing him to hell and back.

[littlestarofthewest]

Title: You’re Mine | Word Count: 3894 | Pairing: Arthur Morgan x male reader

Tags: angst, work in progress | Rating: Explicit (18+)!!!

Summary: You’re hanging around the saloon, waiting for someone to finally pop your cherry, when you suddenly run into a lot more cowboy than you can handle.

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11 - coming asap]

The day is taunting you. A warm sun caresses your skin while a slight breeze refreshes you once in a while. Birds are singing and deer jump across the road, studying you for a moment before moving on. Everything is so beautiful, but that only sours your mood. It's been eight months since you've seen Arthur last. It feels a lot longer.

You reach a small town by midday and hitch your horse outside the saloon. It's dark inside, with dust dancing in the air wherever a ray of sunshine penetrates one of the dirty windows. A group of poker players sits in a corner, not one of them taking a look when you enter. The rest of the saloon is empty except for two lonely souls on separate tables. The way they look, they drink for a reason.

You make your way over to the bar and order a drink. When asking for a refill, you put some extra coins on the bar. "A question, if I may?"

The barkeeper gives a quick nod, so you pull out a piece of paper. The drawing on it doesn't do Arthur justice, but it's the fastest way to get answers. "Have you maybe seen this man?"

"Why?" the barkeeper asks, squinting at the picture. "You a bounty hunter or something?"

"Oh no, not at all. My friend moved to these parts and offered to give me work, should I ever need it," you say. "Just lost track of him."

The barkeeper studies your face, and for once, being "a sweet one" like Arthur used to put it, seems to help you out.

"Yeah, I've seen him," the barkeeper says, his eyes wandering to the coins under your fingers.

You take your hand away with a smile. "Any information you can give me would be highly appreciated."

"He's been here three times or so over the last two weeks," the barkeeper says, scratching his beard. "Kept mostly to himself. I don't think he lives around here, though. At least I couldn't tell you where."

"No need, that already helped me a lot."

You order another drink, trying your best not to lose your cool. It's hard, though. After tracking the Van der Linde Gang for months, this is the first promising lead. Every time someone even saw Arthur, he was out of reach. Now, he was here several times. That means that the gang must have made camp nearby.

Outside, you get a map out of your saddlebag that you bought on your way. It's not as accurate as you might wish, but it gives you an idea of where to go next. 

The gang needs space to set up camp, a hidden place but not too far out of reach. It should have water and at least a small town nearby. There are several places like that on the map, and you do your best to imagine where Hosea might go, based on the gang's last hiding places.

You're sure you found at least two of them during your search, but there are factors at play you can't see. You don't know what the law is doing about the gang and what would be lucrative targets for the outlaws. Still, for the first time, you have hope to see Arthur again.

It takes you three hours to check two possible spots, and you have a feeling that you're closing in. At a farm in the last place, the owner told you that Arthur helped him catch a spooked horse that ran away from him.

You can barely sit still on your horse as you travel through the nearby woods. All this time, you dreamed about finding Arthur again, and finally, there's a real chance.

Following a trail of hoof prints, you become convinced that someone is living in these woods. You lead your horse, so you don't overlook any of the signs, your hand on your holster. Somebody's here; you just don't know who yet.

"Hey you," a voice shouts, making you stop in your tracks, "this is private property. You better get out of here."

You turn around, finding a man pointing a shotgun at you. He's got long red hair peeking out from under his bowler hat and the stance of someone who doesn't really care enough to be threatening. You have no idea who he is or if he's even part of the gang, but you have to give it a try.

"I'm sorry, good sir. I'm just looking for a friend of mine," you say, focusing on the stranger's face. "Arthur Morgan?"

The man's fingers close harder around the grip of the weapon, and you slightly lift your hands to show your good intentions. "I just want to talk to him."

"Don't know a feller named like that," the man says. "You better go now."

"Please, I just-"

Before you can make an attempt to convince him, a woman steps out of the trees, a rifle in hand. She's got blonde hair and wears a dress that must have been expensive once but has seen too much use.

"Jesus Sean, you're supposed to be quiet. If Grimshaw hears-" She stops herself when she sees you, lifting her gun as well. "Who's that?"

"Please, I want no trouble," you say, moving your fingers to show your empty hands. "I'm a friend of Arthur-"

"And I told you, nobody here named like that," Sean repeats.

You don't believe him for a second. If it was just him, you could have stumbled on another gang, but with the woman there, you must be in the right spot.

"Look, I just want to talk to Arthur. Or somebody else from your group. Hosea? John? Or Abigail and Mary-Beth. They know me."

"Who are you?" the woman says, looking you over.

You're not sure if Arthur even told them your name, so you take a deep breath, ignoring the rising heat in your cheeks. "I think Javier refers to me as Pretty Boy."

The woman's eyes grow big. "That's you?"

You shrug, and she leans over to whisper something in the man's ear.

"But I-" he begins, but she gives him a stern look, and he takes off.

"May I ask your name?" you ask.

"It's Karen," she says and drops the rifle. "Don't worry, I'm not going to shoot you."

"Thank you," you say, finally dropping your hands. 

Karen follows the motion with her eyes before looking you up and down. "I get where Pretty Boy is coming from. Too bad you're a liar."

You stare at Karen, confused by everything she just said. "Me? A liar? Why?"

"You just said you didn't want any trouble. As far as I know, you and Arthur said your goodbyes, but here you are, months later. You're definitely asking for trouble."

You're about to defend yourself, but two people step out of the trees, the feller from before, Sean, and Hosea.

"Well, I guess it is you after all," Hosea says. "And here I thought we were well hidden."

"You were," you assure him, afraid that they'd have to move camp again. "I don't think anybody could find you unless they know exactly what to look for."

Hosea nods, turning to Sean. "Keep watch; we'll take our friend with us."

Sean doesn't look happy but nods, and Hosea waves you over. "Come on."

You fetch your horse and follow him and Karen into their camp. Although you're here for Arthur, you still can't help but be excited about this. There can't be many people who get to see the Van der Linde Gang camp without being a part of it.

Walking past, you see Mary-Beth and another girl with black hair. She eyes you with suspicion while Mary-Beth waves at you. Hosea leads you to a tent in the middle of the camp, passing an older woman with a grim face. Inside the tent sits someone you never thought you'd see in person - Dutch van der Linde.

"What is it this time?" he asks without looking up from his book.

"We have a guest," Hosea says.

Dutch finally raises his head with a smile. "Like we entertain-"

He stops himself when he sees you, his brows drawing together before he turns to Hosea in confusion.

"This is Y/N," Hosea says. "Arthur's friend."

Dutch takes a deliberate breath before putting down his book and getting to his feet. You have a feeling that he doesn't like people looking down on him.

"I guess I have to thank you for helping my men out of that wretched town," he says. He sure does sound grateful, but you can tell it's an act, down to his benevolent smile. "Still, I thought we left all that behind us."

"I didn't mean to intrude, sir," you say. "I just want a word with Arthur."

"About?" Dutch asks, raising a single brow, but Hosea steps in, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"I think that's between the two of them. Nothing for us old men to be concerned about."

You've always been convinced that the gang got its name from its sole leader, but it seems that Hosea has some weight to throw around. Dutch doesn't look happy about your presence at all, but with his eyes on Hosea, he still concedes. 

"You may wait here for Arthur," he says, his tone worthy of a king who pardons a great offender. "It could be a couple of days, though."

"Thank you," you say quickly while Hosea squeezes your shoulder.

"I can think of a few ways to keep our friend occupied," he says, moving you along.

Hosea shows you around camp, introducing you to the gang members you haven't met. The black-haired girl is called Tilly. Now that she knows who you are, she gives you a warm smile. Unlike the grim-looking woman, Miss Grimshaw. She acknowledges you with a nod but goes right back to work then.

Surrounded by the horses, you meet a lankish looking guy called Kieran, who makes up in friendliness for Miss Grimshaw. Leaning against the bottom of a nearby tree, you find an older man who goes by Uncle, but Hosea doesn't bother to wake him up, introducing you to Mr. Strauss instead. He's friendly, but not in a kind way. Everything about him seems as if he wants to sell you something.

On your way, you meet Abigail again. She gives you a lovely smile and calls her son Jack over. He does his best to show good manners but quickly gets bored by the stranger, so Abigail lets him go and heads to the central campfire with you and Hosea.

"So," she says, the one word already dripping with unspoken questions, "you're back. Does Arthur know?"

You wonder how he could, and only then it occurs to you that you could have stayed in touch with Arthur. He at least could have written to you, but back when the gang moved away, Arthur seemed to want a clear cut.

The thought is like a punch to the gut, but it's not like you didn't think this through. Of course, there's a chance that Arthur doesn't want to see you, but all this time, you had this feeling that you gave up too quickly. You need to be sure that there's nothing there between you and Arthur before you can go back.

"No, he doesn't know," you say, but without explaining yourself.

Abigail opens her mouth, but Hosea is quicker than her. "Well, he'll be back soon. Can I interest you in some coffee?"

You're thankful for Hosea. He acts as a shield, and you stay with him, listening to old stories. He asks a little about your past as well, but it never feels intrusive, more like he just wants to make conversation.

"I mean, I knew that bear was huge, but having him right in front of us sure was a surprise," Hosea says. 

You hang on his lips, happy that he's telling you stories about Arthur just like John did. "But you're both alive. What happened?"

"To my shame, I have to admit that I froze," Hosea says, shaking his head as if he's still disappointed in himself. "I had my rifle but still hid behind a big rock."

"Like anybody would," you say.

"Not Arthur," Hosea says with a grin. "He drew his revolver and emptied it in the bear's face. Got that monster to run off. Can you believe that? It was still alive."

"You can't be serious," you say, but you're more in shock about Arthur than the bear. "What was he thinking? Dueling a bear?"

Hosea laughs. "That's Arthur for you. He-"

Hosea doesn't finish the sentence. There's noise coming from the trees, and suddenly a few riders break through. At first, you're afraid that the law might have finally caught up to the gang, but then you see Charles and Javier.

They jump from their horses, running back to a third horse, mounted by John. Hosea jumps up to run over to them, and you follow on his heels.

"What happened?" Hosea asks, and you watch as Charles and Javier lift a body from John's horse.

"Arthur's been shot," John says, his face white as a sheet. "We managed to get away, but we couldn't stop. I think he lost a lot of blood."

More of the gang members crowd around them now, and Miss Grimshaw gets them to move. "Bring him to his tent, quickly. Someone get the Reverend. Abigail, with me."

You stand frozen in place, staring at the scene unfolding in front of your eyes. Charles and Javier carry Arthur, his face half-hidden behind his hair. He's dirty and bloody, reminding you that he's no farmer or hunter but an outlaw. It's like you're seeing him for the first time.

Karen takes off and comes back with an older man you haven't seen before. He's wearing a black robe, and Miss Grimshaw's words ring in your ears. Someone get the Reverend. Are they thinking about reading Arthur his last rights? But he can't be dead. He just can't.

You stumble after them, reaching Arthur's tent at the same time as Dutch. The others make way for him, his voice drowning them all out. "What's going on?"

"Arthur's got shot in the leg," Charles says. He's already cutting open Arthur's pants to get to the wound.

"Goddammit," Dutch curses, but then he waves the Referend over. "Come on, Swanson. You better do what you can."

The others make room for the Referend, but as soon as he starts walking, you know that he won't be of any use. He makes it all but two shaky steps before falling over, mumbling something incoherent. Although Swanson stands up right away, it's clear that he had one too many.

Still, Dutch grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him towards Arthur. "Pull yourself together, man! You have work to do."

With horror, you watch as the Referend steps up to Arthur, reaching for the wound as if he could do anything useful with his fingers alone.

"You can't be serious," you shout, unable to hold it in. "The guy's dead drunk. You can't let him operate. He's going to kill him."

All heads turn to you, Swanson's included. Dutch's brows knit together, and he seems to grow in size. "Nobody asked you. Get him out of here."

Bill immediately reaches for you, but you pull away, and Hosea holds up his arm between the two of you, turning to Dutch. "He's not wrong."

"So what would you have me do? Bring him to a doctor?" Dutch asks in a mocking tone. "The Referend is the only chance we got."

Your insides turn at the thought of having to be responsible for Arthur's life, but anything is better than letting that drunken fool make things worse.

"I can do it," you say, trying your best to sound convincing. "I can help him."

Dutch laughs without humor. "You really think I let some stranger anywhere near him?"

John appears at your side, his face still ashen. "Jesus, Dutch, let him help. Swanson can't even see straight."

"And how would he do any better?"

"I had some training from an actual doctor," you explain. "When I became a hunter, he taught me how to treat wounds in case I got hurt and had to take care of myself."

"And he patched me up, remember?" John throws in. "And I'm doing just fine."

Dutch grunts before stepping closer and grabbing you by the collar. "If anything happens to him, I'll hold you responsible."

You can tell by his eyes that you're about to sign your death warrant, but the truth is, you don't care. "If he dies, you're welcome to shoot me."

It's dead quiet. You didn't surprise only yourself with that announcement, but you have to admit that it's true. You've only been a shadow of yourself since Arthur left, not seeing much use in anything. The only thing that kept you going for the last few months was the chance that you might be able to be with him again. If Arthur was gone…

Dutch all but throws you over to Arthur, the Referend gladly stepping aside, and Miss Grimshaw waves you over. "Come on, tell us what you need."

You look at Arthur's leg, blood welling out of his wound, and the fear of losing him subsides, making room for the voice of your uncle. You take a deep breath first to calm yourself, and then you rattle off all the items you'll need. The gang members scatter to fetch them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see how Hosea pulls Dutch aside, and Charles gestures for the others to step aside as well. Karen pulls the Referend back to whatever hole he crawled out of, leaving you behind with Miss Grimshaw and Abigail.

They assist you, following each instruction without hesitation. Considering that neither of them seems the tiniest bit squeamish, you believe that they must have seen some nasty wounds before.

For a bit, you even forget that it's Arthur lying there, too concentrated on patching up the wound. Everything around you becomes blurry and quiet until you're done. Then, the sounds and smells hit you all at once. 

Your knees go weak, and you might have landed on your ass, but Charles catches you and keeps you upright. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking as concerned as Abigail and Miss Grimshaw.

"It's alright," you say, although you feel as if you need to vomit your guts out any second. "I'm pretty much done. Just need to clean him up and-"

Abigail grabs your hand, trying to catch your eye. "I think you've done enough. We can finish up here."

You try to protest, but Charles' grip tightens around your arm. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

He leads you through the camp to another wagon and fetches a bowl of water. When you only stare at it, he carefully takes your hands to wash off the blood.

"Will he be alright?" he asks, making you look over to Arthur's tent.

Miss Grimshaw and Abigail are still there, tending to Arthur. You want to go back and help, but the fear that kept you going left your body, leaving you exhausted.

"He has a chance now," you say. "He just needs to hold on."

"Arthur's a fighter; he can make it," Charles says.

You nod, hoping that he's right. You don't dare to think about what you'd do if Arthur won't make it.

--------

Charles keeps an eye on you, so you end up well-fed on a bedroll, and despite your worries, you fall asleep. 

In the morning, Arthur's still asleep, so there's not much you can do. Hosea forces you to sit with him and eat something before he lets you have a look at Arthur.

John is sitting by Arthur's side but gets up when you come closer. "You saved our asses again, man. He's doing good."

You look Arthur over, your hand slightly trembling when you put it on his forehead. He does look good, all things considered. As long as he doesn't get a bad fever, he should be out of the woods.

"I can sit with him," you say, "if you want to go eat something."

"Sure, thanks." John claps your shoulder and walks away.

You sit down and watch Arthur. With every second, it becomes more evident that the drawing you have of him doesn't do him justice at all. You even worried that you might forget how he looked like, and now you have to ingrain his face in your memory so that it can never happen.

You don't even notice how time goes by until Tilly offers to take your place. Once again, the gang members make sure that you eat, making you feel more and more uncomfortable. You came here to talk to Arthur, not pray on the gang's hospitality.

When you tell Hosea that you're going on a hunt, he assures you that there's no need, but in the end, he accepts that you don't want to be a burden.

It's getting dark by the time you get back, and everybody in camp can hear that you've been successful when Pearson, the camp's cook, praises the outstanding deer you brought back. Even Dutch gives you a slight nod as you walk by.

You find Abigail at Arthur's tent. She's leaning over him, and you stop at the end of his cot. "How is he?"

"You can ask him that yourself," Abigail says and steps away.

Arthur's eyes are open, but he stares at you as if he's in a dream. Abigail taps his shoulder. "He's the one you should thank. He patched you up. I don't think Swanson could have done it."

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Abigail looks back and forth between you and Arthur before handing you a clean towel. "I'll give you two a moment. Maybe check the wound?"

She walks away, and for the first time, you're afraid to talk to Arthur. As you come closer, he tries to sit up. "You're here. Why are you here?"

"Don't!" you say before pushing him back. "You shouldn't get up yet."

Arthur huffs but heads your advice. You check his leg, well aware that his eyes are still on you. "Answer me."

"I wanted to talk to you," you say, focused on his wound. You wanted to talk to him for so long, but now, you're so embarrassed that you can't look at him. "I missed you, and I just needed to make sure that there's really no chance for us."

"There isn't," Arthur says in a snide voice. "Nothing changed."

"But I-"

"But nothing," Arthur growls. "Don't you get it? I don't want you here. Go home."

And that's part of the problem. The village you live in, your house, it never felt like home. Arthur did. At least until now. Something inside you crumbles, making room for a bottomless abyss. You got away from it when you left to find the gang, but now, Arthur's pushing you in.

"I'll be gone by the morning," you say, and when Arthur turns away from you, you can barely breathe. "I'm sorry."

[miceenscene]

Star-Crossed

din djarin/female oc | soulmate AU | pre-canon

wc: 6.2k / 28.5k

summary: The Way was not supposed to be a solitary one. People, house, clan. And when all else failed, your Match. “Fits like a Mandalorian Match” was the old saying. Though it wasn’t so long ago that it stopped making sense. But what's a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, Din Is In A Cult, angst with an eventual happy ending i swear

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | ao3

Chapter Eight: The End

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Anella held onto Nia as if in fear that she might slip through her fingers again. Both of them talking through tears over the other.

“I’ve missed you so much! I was starting to think I wouldn’t find you–”

“Niæna! I thought you were–Niæna, cyare’se–”

Loved one.

They stopped talking at the exact same moment to listen, making them both laugh and wipe away tears.

Anella cupped Nia’s cheeks and pressed her forehead to hers, frowning in a joy so bright it had to hurt.

“Me'vaar ti gar, ba’buir?” Nia whispered, sniffling.

How are you, grandmother?

Anella nodded slowly, swallowing hard before speaking in a rough voice. “Ner bu’ad. Yaimpar. Ori’sol gedetyar.”

My granddaughter. Returned. There is much to be grateful for.

Watching their reunion made something deep inside Din ache. He had never felt like more of an outsider.

He stepped back once, twice, hoping to let them share this moment as long as they wanted to without an audience. But–

“Ke’mot!”

Halt!

Even if it hadn’t been the exact order used by his training instructors, the tone Anella used would have stopped a runaway Star Destroyer. Din looked back, shoulders automatically hunching to brace for whatever was coming next. Anella still had an arm around Nia, but was giving him a very familiar looking study.

“Is he with you?” she asked Nia.

She smiled. “Yes, he’s with me. He’s the reason I’m here.”

Anella looked slightly mollified. “Do you have a name to go with all that beskar?”

“He goes by–”

“Din. Din Djarin.”

For half a second, he had the same feeling as when he gave Nia his true name on their first meeting. WHY? But the warm and open look in Nia’s eyes immediately quenched any doubt he might have had.

Anella looked between the two of them then snorted. “Come, let us leave this drafty high rise and you can explain. You too, Din-Din Djarin.”

Huh. It’d been a long time since he’d had relatives.

Anella took them to her small apartment many thousand levels down from the twin-spired penthouse. It was cramped, and there was some sort of betting ring happening on the street corner, but they could still see the sky, so better than most on Coruscant.

Inside was about as luxurious as being aboard The Razor Crest, which made Din feel a lot more at ease, truth be told. Anella managed to find an extra crate for Din to sit on as she only owned two chairs, but it didn’t feel too tight at the table.

Anella was a small woman, slight and barely reaching his chest. But she still had a commanding Presence that made him continually straighten his posture every time she re-entered the room. The long burn scar through her whitened eye probably helped, but even then…

Nia hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived. “Ba’buir, sit. We’re fine.”

Anella grunted disbelieving and tossed two ration packs their way. “If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten the good ones. But I at least have this.” She placed down three metal cups on the table and brandished a bottle half-filled with golden liquor.

She filled the cups with the very strong smelling booze and then lifted hers. “K'oyacyi.”

Cheers. Literally, ‘stay alive’.

“K’oyacyi,” Nia repeated before sipping. Din lifted his glass, but did not drink.

Anella gave him an odd look. “I can assure you, this place is safer than it looks.”

“Din doesn’t remove his helmet in front of others,” Nia explained before he had to.

A knowing look crossed through Anella’s eyes that turned to a pointed glare towards Nia, who avoided it by paying very careful attention to opening her ration bar.

“I see. Well, it will keep just fine,” Anella said before taking Nia’s hand in hers and giving her a soft, concerned look. “Now tell me, my Comet-fire, what has happened since I saw you last?”

Nia let out a long breath. “A lot, but… I’m not even sure when that was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a control chip put in my head,” Nia said, making Anella’s face harden and her grip clench. “Din made sure it was removed, but it took… everything. I wasn’t even sure of my own name when I woke up.”

Anella’s face was disturbed, but she nodded and sat back. “Tell me what you know then. And I will clarify.”

“I remember Mandalore. My parents and you, our home. I remember you raising me, training me–training us. We found the school. Ba’buir, it was attacked–”

Anella held up a hand “I know this. Continue.”

Nia kept going. “I remembered the Vod’oya after we found the headquarters. Going through the mission log brought back a lot of good memories.” She smiled for a moment, but then it disappeared. “But there’s gaps. In the records themselves. We have a contact seeing if it can be recovered, but haven’t heard anything yet.”

So far none of this seemed to surprise Anella. “And then?”

Nia’s face grew very carefully blank. “I know I killed Phasia,” she said in a small voice. On instinct, Din reached out and took Nia’s other hand. He could feel Anella’s gaze rest on him for a moment. “I don’t… know why, but I remember doing it. Ro saw me shoot her, she told me.”

“You found Ro?” Anella asked, sounding actually surprised now.

“Yes, she was… angry. I would be too.”

“What brought you here then?”

Din spoke up, making them both look his way. “I had a bounty, some years ago, for Phasia. I delivered her to that building. Nia remembered being chipped there when we arrived.”

“I remember a man. Human. He wanted to know where the school was…” Nia’s face threatened to crumble. “And I told him. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Because you were chipped,” Anella reminded her, her voice fierce with determination. “Do not take guilt that is not yours, Niæna.”

She didn’t look like she quite agreed with her, but she let out a breath. “We’ve been looking for eight months, and there’s still so much we don’t know. Please, anything will help.”

Anella nodded and considered for a moment before speaking. “I hope you have re-discovered it, but your gut instinct is… uncanny. As a child, it was unsettling.” A wry smile twisted her mouth for a moment. “But as you grew older, and especially with the path you and the others chose, it gave me some measure of peace. So when you came to me a year ago and told me that you felt one of the Vod’oya had betrayed the group, I trusted you. But I told you that you would need hard proof to convince the rest. And you had it. The collection of missions the Vod’oya had completed all under false pretenses, all proposed by Phasia. You showed it to me not long before… before it all ended.

She finished her drink and set the cup down. “The owner of that building is a man named Terreck Basslan. He is rich, which makes him powerful. Even with your proof, we weren’t sure how he’d gotten his hooks into Phasia–” She looked pointedly at Din. “But it was clear that she was the turncoat. Through her, Basslan was using the Vod’oya as his own personal army. The seven of you could take out his enemies, remove his competitors, or just cut down anyone in his way. I am sure he lined Phasia’s pockets with more credits than she knew what to do with for her assistance.

“When you told me, I thought it best to disband, but… you wanted to know why she had betrayed the sisterhood. I told you to be careful. She had kept up the ruse for years; she was probably deeper in than even we knew.” Her face grew even more somber. “And then I was woken up very late by Kolo, who told me that Phasia was dead. And you were missing.

“I went after you immediately. You made it to the spaceport before I could get to you. I followed you, tracked you to that building.” She shook her head, a grim light in her eyes. “At the time, I hoped you were dead. That would have been better than most of the fates that waited there.”

“I got lucky,” Nia said, squeezing her hand.

“Yes,” Anella replied, looking at Din. “By the time I returned to the school, the Empire had already come through. Basslan must have told them where we were; Mandalorians are not technically wanted, but far from welcome. They killed some, took most. Where and for what purpose, I do not know. I buried the dead and burned the stormtroopers in the woods. Set out to find my students.”

“You think Basslan knows where they are?” Din asked.

“I think Coruscant is a good place to hide when you still need contacts. I have a scanner nearby; it logs every ship that comes and goes from Basslan’s.” She smiled slightly. “My curiosity was sparked when the same pre-Imperial ship that landed at my school three weeks ago showed up here. Though the Mandalorian was more a surprise than your survival, Comet-fire. Where did you find him?”

Nia laughed slightly. “He found me. On Tatooine. When I was chipped, everything felt foggy. Except for this… compulsion. Kick the guard off the barge. I did, and then he showed up out of nowhere.”

“And what brought you to Tatooine, Din?”

“I took a quarry and had my own… instinct. Go to the Dune Sea, and follow the barge.”

Nia smiled at him. “Though the next thing I remember is waking up to a stormtrooper swinging a staff at me.”

“You wouldn’t stay on the ship,” he replied, making her laugh.

Anella was looking sharply between the two of them. “I see.”

“We’re Matched,” Nia added, resting a hand on his arm.

“Good. Glad you have figured that out yourselves.” She refilled the two empty glasses and sat back in her chair. “Are you bonded yet?”

Nia’s confused frown reflected the one on his face. “No…?”

“It will come in time. What clan are you from, Din?”

“I don’t have one. I was a foundling, raised in the fighting corps.”

“Outside of Keldabe, right?” Anella asked, though it seemed she already knew.

“Yes.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Nia asked, pulling the conversation off track. She nodded to the corner where a few bags were packed.

“I was, yes. I have received a tip on where my students may have been taken. Was going to investigate when you two arrived.”

“I want to come with you,” Nia said.

Anella held up a hand. “No. I do not know yet if it is true. If it is, I will leave word at the school. But you need your evidence back. Prove yourself to Ro and find the others together.”

Nia nodded, though it was clear she didn’t like the idea of leaving her grandmother again.

They stayed up talking, reminiscing till late in the night. Not stopping till Nia could barely keep her eyes open. Anella wouldn’t hear of them returning to the ship, making a few spare beds out of the blankets and furniture she was leaving behind.

Nia curled up on the couch, immediately dropping into sleep before she’d even managed to pull a blanket over herself. Din watched Anella drape a quilt over her and smooth her hair, something deep inside him aching again.

Anella caught him staring from the table, jerking his head back to look down at his still full cup. However, instead of retiring herself, she sat down across from him and refilled her glass.

There was a quiet minute as she sipped and studied him carefully. She and Nia really were related.

“Tell me, Din,” she said in a low voice. “What are your intentions towards my granddaughter?”

He didn’t know how, but he suddenly felt that every answer that came to mind was wrong.

“As long as Nia wants me by her side, that is where I’ll be,” he said finally. True in spirit, but not his full hopes.

She huffed in amusement. “Spoken like a true Mandalorian.”

Her choice of words gave him pause.

“Because it seems to me like you have already chosen her,” she continued.

Kriff, he’d hoped he was more subtle than this.

“Not formally…” he admitted. “But… I am… settled.” He looked to where he could see the top of Nia’s head. “I do not know if she agrees with me.”

“What of your tribe? Do they agree with you?”

Din looked back at her, frowning. “Nia is my Match, what is there to argue with?”

Anella chuckled into her teacup. “Since when has that stopped Mandalorians?”

Under his helmet, he frowned. The idea had not even crossed his mind…

“You know, Nia’s mother was of your tribe. The Faithful Ones up the mountain,” she added.

“Really?”

She nodded once, looking at him closely. “When she and my son chose each other… her tribe cast her out for choosing someone who was not faithful.” A black pit opened in his stomach. “It was difficult for her, and admittedly, I had my doubts at first about the wisdom of my son’s choice.” A wistful smile filled her eyes. “But before long, she made me as proud as if I had birthed her myself. It was through her foresight and her sacrifice that Nia and I survived and escaped when the Empire invaded our village.”

“Nia never told me.”

“Nia does not know. Her mother wanted to leave that part of her past behind her. And she did…” She drained her cup and stood. “I may be biased, but I think she was happier for it.” She patted his shoulder as she passed by. “Good night, Din Djarin.”

Din finished his cup and settled for the night, leaning against the couch with a long sigh. Nia, still asleep, turned and threw her arm across his chest. He slipped his glove off and held her hand, the usual something flickering beneath the surface as he drifted off.

The next morning, Anella saw them back to The Razor Crest, not before giving them a small case of ration bars and the quilt Nia had slept under. She probably would have foisted more, if Nia hadn’t gently yet firmly assured her they weren’t in danger of starving.

“One last thing,” Anella said, making Nia suck in a breath and Din bite back a chuckle. She reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped, rather flat package, handing it to Nia. “You should have this. It is time.”

Nia unwrapped it and both their mouths dropped open. It was a beskar cuirass, battle-worn and painted grey and white.

Nia looked up at her. “I cannot accept this–”

“I cannot wear it anymore. It is right that you should have it, cyare’se.” Anella ran a hand over her beskar, thumb rubbing at one of the scuffs. “It will need to be fitted to you. And deserves new paint. Perhaps a new color if you think it fitting.”

The color of a Mandalorian’s armor was symbolic. Grey meant mourning a loved one, while white meant a new start.

His own red set was in honor of his parents. Perhaps it was time for a new color on his own as well.

“I will take good care of it,” Nia promised solemnly, her hand pressed over the iron heart in the center.

Anella nodded. “I know this.” She rested a hand on her shoulder and waved Din in to rest the other on his, looking between the two of them. “Look after one other well. Mandalorians need each other, now more than ever.”

They looked at each other, a warm smile passing between them. “We will,” Nia promised, not looking away for a moment.

Anella patted Din’s arm and kissed Nia’s forehead one last time before letting them board the ship.

“Ret'urcye mhi,” Anella called, waving from the landing pad.

Maybe we’ll meet again. A Mandalorian farewell.

Nia watched her from the cockpit, waving back as Anella grew smaller and eventually disappeared from view.

Din was setting coordinates for Nevarro when a message came through. Peli’s voice was crackly but clear.

“You two are in luck; I was able to recover most of the data. Come back to Tatooine when you can–and don’t forget the rest of my money.”

He immediately plotted coordinates for Tatooine. Unfortunately, Coruscant being Coruscant, it was actually almost two full hours later till they made the jump to hyperspace and he could leave the flight deck.

He found Nia down in the hull, putting away the armor cleaner that usually only he used.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded, tucking her now shining beskar into the armory. “Yes… Part of me wishes we didn’t have to be apart, but we’ll see each other again.” She smiled back at him. “She liked you, you know.”

He chuckled. “I liked her too.”

Her eyes shone, warm and open. “Din. You… you have saved my life in so many ways. Without you…”

The look in Anella’s eye came to mind – I hoped you were dead – making him pull her into his arms. Safe, she was safe now.

She leaned back enough to look at him. “It means so much to me that you like my clan. Maybe… the next time we see Anella, I could ask if she would let you join. You could claim clan Vard’on when people ask. If you wanted.”

“A clan of three,” he said, trying it on for size and finding it a perfect fit.

She smiled, so much brighter and more beautiful than the stars that he just had to kiss her.

Din slipped his helmet on the next morning and opened the bunk door. Nia was already up, doing the final meditation of her stretching routine, completely still and her back straight as a saber.

He admired her form, the slope of her waist and the absolute control over her body she commanded. By the Mythosaur, he was beyond merely lucky to have a Match like her.

“You’re staring, my absence,” she said, without turning around to see him.

He smiled and went to sit behind her, pulling his helmet off before tucking his face into the safety of the crook of her neck.

Sea air and wildflowers.

“Absence?” he asked, interrupting the end of her meditation in more ways than one.

She relaxed back against him. “When you’re helmeted… I can feel the space where you should be, rather than actually you. You’re my favorite absence.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the skin behind her ear.

A contented hum echoed from her chest as she intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

They sat there in the quiet perfect ordinariness for a while. That feeling of Something hurtling towards them returning. Though this time, it arrived.

Connection.

“What is this?” she murmured.

Pure and powerful.

It went beyond star bursts and comet fire.

It was… the birth of a galaxy. The miracle of Something from Nothing.

And at the same time, it was simply just her. And him.

Devotion flowed through his hands, tempered with loyalty and admiration. Strong and fierce. Familiar, but decidedly not his.

“Nia,” he whispered, head swirling with the rush.

“I thought the bond was just… a metaphor. A fairy tale…”

Surprise and awe joined the cocktail before simmering down into an amusement that sparkled.

This was her, Din realized after a moment. It was Nia. She was feeling all of this, and through where he touched her, he felt it too. Was she feeling him? How did she not drown in all these emotions?

Concern flooded the riptide.

“Are you alright?” she asked, a hand slipping up to cup the back of his neck. Every place she touched him, Awareness flowed, nearly overwhelming. “Din?”

He nodded, finding his footing slowly but surely. “Yes. I… I feel you.”

Concern ebbed, replaced with shimmering adoration.

“Din Djarin, you like me,” she teased, curling against him.

He had to laugh. That was too small a word for everything he could guess she felt from him.

“I do.” He wrapped his arms all the way around her, holding her tightly and basking in her. Without any effort at all, the words slipped out, soul-deep and earnest. “Will you marry me?”

Surprise detonated.

She breathed a giggle. “Grandmother warned me that Mandalorians move fast. I just assumed she was talking about sex.”

He chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“I know…” Thoughtful consideration welled up.

She had to feel his nerves, his longing for this.

Instead of answering, however, she turned to face him, eyes already closed without any reminder. Her hands reached out for his face, and he guided them to his cheeks. She pulled him close again, pressing their brows together.

“Yes.”

Star bursts and comet fire. Coming from both him and her.

A smile so bright it splintered into a laugh bubbled up from within him. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling too, eyes still closed.

He nearly asked her to open them. Breaking his Oath seemed almost worth it to see her eyes with his own in that moment.

But something deep recoiled at the thought. So instead he kissed her, soft and sweet.

“When?” she asked, lips still brushing his.

He kissed her again. And again. And again, moving slowly up her jaw, fingers brushing through her curls. “Now?” he asked, only half-joking.

She laughed. “Really?”

“Mhi solus tome–”

We are one together. The first line of the vows.

She gasped and pulled half back, but he reeled her back in, laughing and nowhere near done kissing her. Her surprise and amusement bubbled.

“Grandmother would never forgive you if you married me on the floor of your ship.”

He brushed her cheek with his. “Would you forgive me?”

“I’d have to think about it,” she teased with a grin he happily kissed away.

“Where should we go then?” A kiss to her forehead. “Naboo?” A nibble to her chin. “Coruscant?” A rub to her nose with his. “Mandalore?”

She laughed. “Yes, reclaim Mandalore for me, and I’ll marry you by the lake outside of Keldabe.”

“De ner haat.”

By my honor.

Still smiling, she kissed him once more and then relaxed against him, head on his shoulder, a hand stroking through the hair by his ear. Her happiness sparkled under his skin everywhere she touched him.

“I don’t care where… but I would like to have my eyes open. When we marry, I want to see you.”

A thin curl of worry smoldered in his throat. “Will the helmet be enough?”

She was quiet for a long moment, considering again. “Yes. I will never ask you to break your Oath for me, de ner haat.”

The worry immediately extinguished. He kissed her forehead. “Vor entye.”

I accept this debt. Or thank you.

“Of course, ner riduur.”

My husband.

He smiled and held her tighter, the edges of his person threatening to burst from their shared joy too large to be contained within just himself.

“Din Djarin of clan Vard’on, chosen of Niæna, has a nice sound to it,” she said, smiling too.

“Yes. It does.”

They arrived in Tatooine the next day, Peli extremely happy to see her money. And also them.

Nia flipped through the recovered data, the proof of Peli’s hard work evident in the relief in her eyes. “It’s here. This can all be traced back to Terreck and Phasia,” she said before tucking the drive away.

“Thank you, Peli,” Din said, offering a hand.

She looked surprised then shook his hand. “Eh, it wasn’t that difficult. And tell you what, next time you come to Tatooine, I’ll get rid of that dent on the back side of the ship for you. Half-price.”

Now with the evidence in hand, it was time to reach back out to Ro.

Nia left another puzzle box on the doorstep of her house, hoping that it hadn’t been abandoned.

But even if Ro was still around, there was no guarantee that she would answer.

However, about a week after they left the message, they got a holo request. Nia looked back at him from where she sat in the captain’s chair, face twisted with worry. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she accepted the call.

Ro appeared, her semi-translucent face completely neutral.

“Ro, I’m glad you called,” Nia said, offering a slight smile.

Ro nodded once. “Your message said you can explain what happened.”

“I can, yes. Phasia… she was working for someone else. Someone bad. And I can prove it. I swear by the Manda’lor. I swear by Anella.”

“Fine, fine. Bring your proof and I’ll listen. But I want to meet with just you. Leave the buckethead behind.”

Nia looked his way. He pulled off a glove, brushing fingers against her hand out of view of the camera. Her worry flowed through the contact, but changed to gratitude as she felt his understanding.

“Alright. Tell me where, and I’ll come alone,” Nia promised.

“I’ll send coordinates.” But instead of hanging up, Ro paused. “If you… after we clear the air… it might be nice to… catch up.”

Nia’s whole face brightened. “Do you want to go camping? Like old times?”

“You remembered,” Ro said with a small smile.

“I did, yeah. Finally.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Since Nia was going to be with Ro for a few days, Din decided he’d be better off finding something to do with his time rather than just wait. Luckily, Ranzar Malk had a job that fit very neatly within their schedule.

And it was only slightly illegal.

“Why do you work with Ran?” Nia asked as she adjusted the straps of her bag over her shoulders.

Din picked up a few extra ration bars from their supply in the hull wall and slipped them into her backpack, as well as a flash grenade. Just to be safe. “He pays. And we need the money.”

She turned around. “The Guild also pays.”

“He pays more.”

He was wearing his gloves so he couldn’t feel her thoughts when she threaded her fingers with his. But he could see them plain on her face anyway.

“You’re disappointed,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. I understand survival. But… I don’t know, hopefully someday we can choose between the right thing and the job.” She sighed and squeezed his hands. “Just please be safe. Don’t let Xi’an stab you.”

“Don’t let Ro stab you,” he replied, making her smile.

“I promise.”

This was the first time in nearly nine months of being together they were going to purposefully part for more than a few hours. As she made to step away, he pulled her back in, close enough to rest the brow of his helmet on hers.

“Wherever you go, I go,” he whispered, even as he reminded himself that they weren’t physically joined at the hip.

She smiled softly and touched his helmet as if she was cupping his cheek. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one apart – the second line of the marriage vows.

Heart surging up into his throat, he reached for his helmet before he could change his mind. Automatically, she closed her eyes. “Wait. Don’t,” he whispered, something deep inside him shaking.

Her eyes opened slowly, surprise drawing them wide as he reached up again. He lost sight of her as he tipped the helmet up just far enough to kiss her good-bye, gently yet meaningfully.

It wasn’t quite an Oath break, right?

Her fingertips brushed over his jaw, his lips. The awe tingling through the connection made him smile, the first one she’d ever seen.

She gasped and pressed a kiss to the bare spot in his facial hair where a beard stubbornly refused to grow. “You have a beautiful smile, Din Djarin,” she whispered, a fingertip brushing his dimple.

He lowered the helmet back into place and she came into view again, her warm smile still on her face. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Ret'urcye mhi,” he replied, leaning over and opened the hull door.

Sunlight flooded the room as Nia grabbed her staff from its usual resting place. Ro was waiting just outside of the treeline, hands folded behind her back and her own bag at her feet. Her expression softened as Nia came into view.

Nia jogged down the ramp, stopping one last time to wave back at Din, before running to join Ro. They spoke for a few moments before Ro grabbed her bag and they fell into step, heading down the path together.

Din watched them go till Nia disappeared between the trees, already counting the minutes till he could kiss her again as he closed the hull door and flew away.

As Ran’s quick, easy, and not-all-that-illegal job turned out to be none of those things, Din promised himself this was the last time he’d work with this crew. The two of them could make it by with just the Guild from now on. Dodging fang and knife attacks from your supposed partners was not worth the pay bump.

Ignoring offers for drinks with most of the crew (and far more than just drinks with Xi’an), Din immediately grabbed his share and jumped into hyperspace. Ran’s poor planning had made him a few hours later to meet Nia than he’d originally hoped.

Din half-expected her to be waiting by the treeline as he landed in the exact same spot he’d left her in two days ago.

But she wasn’t there.

That was fine. He knew where they were planning to camp, not even half a mile down the path, near the river.

Maybe he could surprise her, he thought as he headed down the trail, fallen leaves squishing underfoot. Huh, they probably got rained on quite a bit.

He heard the babbling of the river first. And soon after the path through the trees widened with the bank, revealing a near panoramic view of the river bend.

It’d be the perfect spot to camp. But he didn’t see any signs of fire pits or sleeping rolls in the softened earth.

No sign of Nia or Ro either.

What he did see, drew him to a full stop.

Nia’s staff laid abandoned in the mud.

He stared at it for a long moment, before looking around. “Nia?” he called, loud enough to be heard in the nearby vicinity. But there was no answer.

He wrenched the staff from the mud, the weapon half-buried as if… as if it’d been left for some time.

“NIA?” he yelled again before searching for the story in the river bank. However, the heavy rain had washed anything useful away, leaving only rivulet trails and puddles behind. Not even his visor could identify footprints.

A black pit opened up in his gut, large enough to swallow him whole.

He ripped off his helmet, breath fogging slightly in the air, and looked around wildly with his own eyes.

“NIA,” he bellowed, voice breaking as it echoed between the spaces in the forest and across the water.

Silence was the only reply.

Nia was gone.

It was several weeks later that Din was back in the Vod’oya headquarters, this time alone. He set up the holo recorder on the table and activated it, stepping back to the foot and trying to pick a place to begin.

“Anella, I have… Something’s happened.”

He looked at the glowing light of the recorder and knew that this wasn’t the right way to do this, for so many reasons. But fear more than Creed kept his helmet on his head.

“Nia’s gone missing,” he said, face screwing up from the stabbing pain of it. “She met with Ro, they were together for two days, and… and she wasn’t there when I returned. I don’t know if Ro did something, or if someone took them both, or…

He shook his head, just barely holding together enough to get out the words. “I have searched everywhere I can think. Ro’s house is abandoned. No one’s been through the school but me. Even Basslan seems to have gone underground, his staff haven’t seen him for months. I’ve thought about putting out a bounty for Nia, but… I don’t want her getting hurt.

“I’m never going to stop looking for her, de ner haat. But I don’t know what to do. And I’m out of credits. When you get this message, if you want to reach me, you can find me on Nevarro. Leave word at the cantina or with Greef Karga.”

He made himself make eye contact with the glowing lens, as if it would make a difference behind his beskar barrier. “I’m sorry, I…” He sucked a shaking breath. “I’m so sorry, Anella.”

And he ended the recording.

There was one last place he hadn’t gone yet for help.

But now with nothing left, and him nearly ready to believe he deserved it, he returned to the Covert.

Visored gazes felt heavy, pressing in on his armor. Did they know? Would they hate him for losing what so few were lucky to find?

He ducked his head and didn’t pause till he reached the armory, sitting down in front of the forge. Hoping – praying – that this would fix… anything. Something.

The Armorer put down her hammer and sat across from him. Even through two barriers of beskar, her gaze was leaden. “What is it you seek?”

Din dropped his view to his lap, shoulders bowing under the weight of Everything. “...My Match. She was taken,” he finally admitted, breath cutting out of him unevenly through his meager remaining control.

“By who?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have searched… everywhere.” His control snapped, throat tightened. It was like he suddenly couldn’t breathe for the weight of his cuirass. “She’s… she cannot be found. Even by me.”

“Did she see your face?” she asked calmly.

Her question, in light of everything he’d just told her, everything he’d been living through, everything he’d lost, scalded and immediately scarred.

He stared at her for a moment. “What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

No. No, it didn’t. It DID NOT MATTER.

Outrage making his hands shake, he wrenched off his helmet, throwing it to the ground with such force it bounced and rolled away.

But the Armorer saw his intent and turned before she saw his face.

It just fueled his rage. He wanted her to see, to take this away from him too.

“She was my Match!” he shouted, standing to his feet. “How was she, above every other living thing in the galaxy, still forbidden from knowing my face?”

The Armorer tipped her helmet slightly, but didn’t look away from the opposite wall. “This Is The Way.”

“It was not The Way for other Mandalorians! She was clan Vard’on; her ancestors were there to ride the Mythosaur. I met her clan! I saw their faces!”

“Some Mandalorians have abandoned the true ways. But you have not yet answered my question. Did she see your face?” she asked again, completely unfazed from his outrage.

He sucked in several shuddering breaths as the cruel truth welled up in his throat.

Nia was his Match. She was bonded so closely to him he felt her emotions. She had agreed to marry him. She wanted to be one when they were together, to be one when they were apart, to share everything, to raise their children as warriors, and yet–

“No. She never knew my face.”

The only sound was his low gasps as he wept for all that had been stolen from his care, stolen because he hadn’t been vigilant enough to protect it. Reckless, careless, and now–

Matchless.

He dropped back onto the bench, head in hands as the truth ran its course through him, leaking out drop by drop, till he was Empty.

Only once he’d grown quiet again, did the Armorer stand and walk calmly to where his helmet had landed. Never once looking at him.

“Even in your hardship, you have been given a blessing.”

Din stared down at his hands, empty and disconnected. “What blessing?” he asked, bitterly.

“The galaxy can take your Match. It can take your parents, your planet. And one day, it will take your life,” she said calmly as she circled around to stand behind him. “But it cannot take your belief.”

She set the helmet down on the bench next to him and continued, “Hold fast. And do not surrender what can never be taken from you, Mandalorian.”

He stared at the helmet for a long while.

If he walked away right now, he would truly have No One. Nothing.

And he would deserve it.

He rested a hand on the top, and the emptiness between his lungs cauterized to a permanent hole. Ragged, but not bleeding. Not anymore.

He picked the helmet and slipped it over his head, seeing the world only through his view screen once more.

“This Is The Way,” the Armorer said.

“This Is The Way,” he repeated.

After all,

What’s a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

End of Part I

Interlude I ; posting soon!

taglist: @loversandantiheroes ; @kelenloth ; @keeper0fthestars ; @sarahjkl82-blog ; @thirstworldproblemss ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @i-belong-in-fandoms ; @gallowsjoker ; @nova646 ; @darnitdraco

[gucciwins]

Confessions ll

Harry messed up and Y/N doesn’t know how to move forward

A/N: The long awaited part two. Confessions was written over a year ago and I’d like to think my writing has grown since then. I honestly debated a part two for forever but here it is. I hope you love it as much as you loved part one. 

read part one of confessions here

* * * * *

“Tell me once again what you did for the past week?" 

"Sarah, I told you I watched all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls. Ate food I cooked, not reheated. Well, it was mainly soup and simple pasta. I did take showers and change clothes. Although I have not washed any." You share as you pick up your laundry basket and begin to fill it with a few lose clothes around your room. The room was always kept nice with a bed made and no scattered garments, but that couldn't be said now. You had clothes all over, pillows on the floor, and an unfolded comforter which Ginger was taking advantage of and sleeping on top of. Not mentioning how the living room looked, you started with the laundry. 

"You're telling me you spent roughly 154 hours in front of your television watching a show on Netflix." Sarah pauses. "That means you've either slept fourteen hours straight or slept two hours each night." 

"Your math skills are great still." You laugh, not answering her. “It wasn’t even a good show. But oh well now.”

"Y/N," Sarah pesters. 

"Fine. I slept roughly two hours after I finished a season." 

"What about work?" 

"I am working from home on this project. It's due in three weeks, and I'm ahead, need to edit a few things, then I'm all good." 

You put Sarah on speaker and place your phone on top of the basket as you walk to the washer. You know she's frustrated with you, but this is the best way to heal heartache. Well, your best approach. 

"Are you feeling better, hun" Sarah sighs. "I know it's hard, but I'm here for you. As is Mitch." 

You drop the basket in your basement and begin to load your clothing. "Look, Sarah, I know you both care. I just need to solve this on my own. Ha-" You cut yourself off before saying his name. "He's a great guy, but I don't need a jealous boyfriend in my life. He knows how I act, how cuddly I am, but if he saw me as someone unfaithful, then what's the point of trying. No trust. No love." 

"He's not a bad guy." Sarah starts.

"No, I know that. Trust me, the time we got to spend together, I saw how kind and generous Harry is. He's more than just another famous guy, but second chances. I'm not known for that." You know second chances are good, but it is also a way to lead to being hurt once again. "I know he's your friend, but he was mine as well."

"You're not going to give him the chance to apologize?" 

"Of course, I will. I forgive him, but what else is there to do, it's not li-like he was my boyfriend." 

"Y/N, you confessed your love to him." 

Sarah is trying her best to be neutral, but you know she was rooting for the two of you to make it. To defeat the odds thrown your way. No one expected it to end before it started.

"Yeah, well, come-what-may." 

"What does that mean?" 

"Well, if a bus is heading right at you, let it come." You say quoting Liz from the series you just watched. Not the brightest philosophy, but it's all you have right now. 

"That sounds like a disaster."

"Yeah, it does. You'd save me from the bus, right?" 

Sarah laughs. "Of course, I would. Who else cooks for me expecting nothing in return?" 

You laugh for the first time in what feels like months. Sarah is always able to break you out of your deep dark times. 

"Dinner at my place on Wednesday." You tell her, wanting to get together without having to leave your house. 

"We'll be there." 

You go to hang up, but remember an essential thing for dinner. "Mitch needs to make his brownies, always taste so heavenly." You let out a low moan just thinking about the melting chocolate. 

"I'll tell him, I will also leave out the part where you get wet for brownies." Sarah laughs, and you can't help but join her. Those brownies are just too sinful. 

She hangs up, leaving you in the quiet of your basement. It would be good to see Sarah and Mitch even if Harry blew up at you the last time you saw them. You shake your thoughts away and finish loading the wash. Picking up the previous item, it's a blue Mickey Mouse shirt. Except, it's not yours, it's his. He had come over for dinner and decided he wanted to do the cooking. He brought the spoon to his mouth to taste and ended up spilling. You were quick to strip it off him and rinse it, not wanting it to stain. But did not wash it in a load right away. He was in no hurry to put a shirt back on. To his displeasure, you handed him a Washington State sweater that belonged to your brother. He had looked good in it. That night you didn't sleep until four am not noticing the time and lost in pleasant conversations.

It's crazy how fast the night changes. 

* * * * *

"Mitch, I made chicken tinga with you in mind. I remember you saying how much you were dying to try some three weeks ago." You say as you set a plate of shredded lettuce on the table. "I have it in good authority that I make one of the best. My grandma said I mastered it, so if you don't like it take it up with her." 

Mitch laughs, remembering saying that when you all went out for drinks. "It smells amazing, I'm sure it's great." 

"Anything you touch tastes amazing." Sarah comments.

The conversation flowed calmly over dinner, not one mention of Harry. It feels off being without him, but you can't change what happened, only move on. Sarah and Mitch were your friends before you even knew Harry, but the same goes for Harry. One moment they were strangers and the next they were best friends, now you had no idea where you stood. 

Mitch got up and went for the brownies and set a plate of two in front of you and Sarah but only one for himself. You were about to bite into the delicious treat when there was a knock on your door. 

You all froze, not knowing who it could be. Not your brother, seeing as you drove him to the airport on Sunday. You briefly talked about Harry, but he knew it was your decision to make. Thomas was a good man, but all too forgiving something you never understood. You look at Sarah and shrug as if to say you don't know who's behind the door. You miss the nervous look Mitch gives Sarah as you stand up and make your way to the door. 

You live in a safe community, preceding checking the peephole. The door opens and in front of you is Harry. He looks nervous, cheeks red, and smile small. He takes a step back, and all you want to do is close the door. Not caring for a word that comes out of his mouth. 

Harry sees the look in your eyes and is quick to react. "I'm not here to stay, but I do want to talk.  

You narrow your eyes at him. "Not tonight." 

"It has to be tonight." He pleads. 

You refuse to do this on his terms, let alone without warning. "No."

"Please," Harry takes a step closer, and you catch his eyes glistening. 

"I need you to leave." It's hard telling him to go, but it's what you need.

"Will you hear me out, if I leave?" Harry's stubborn, you learned that the hard way during one of your first arguments where you needed to go home after a late night of drinking, but he wouldn't hear it practically pushing you to his guest room.

"Of course." 

Harry grins, and it almost makes you forget your anger. 

"But not tonight."

His smile falters. You've caught him off guard. 

"Then, when?" He whispers, all confidence gone. 

You think for a moment, "Friday, I'll meet you at Carol's Diner."

"Okay, 12," Harry says, knowing that was your usual time to have lunch there together. 

"Eight" You're embarrassed to correct. "If that's okay, I've got meetings all day." 

Harry nods. "No problem at all." 

He walks down the steps and to his car. You can't help but stand there as he walks away. He would always drag his feet playfully joking how he didn't like being kicked out. He didn't stay the night unless he had some alcohol. You told him one drop, and you'd have the couch ready for him. Which always ended with him in your bed because he said your living room was haunted. 

You miss him, but you don't know how to move forward. 

* * * * *

Late. You're late, and Harry knows he deserves it, hell you might not even show up. 

Harry ordered a black coffee, not knowing if they'd eat or not. The waiter had just served him his refill when you walked in the diner. You spot him right away, and he can't help but begin to sweat. 

"Harry, I'm sorry. My last meeting ran a little longer." You shrug your coat off before sliding into the booth across from him. "I hope you didn't think I was setting you up."

"'Course not. You hungry? Didn't know if you wanted to order." 

"Starving, I've been craving french toast and a milkshake." You laugh, looking at Harry. "That sounds like a lot of sugar. I'm sorry." 

"It's fine, lo-Y/n." He clears his throat. 

You both place your orders, and then the silence takes over. Harry sits there staring at you while you look out the window staring at the park entrance. You count three couples walking in and four families coming out. You also spotted two dogs, frowning when no more showed up.

You're surprised at how fast the food comes and dig right in. Harry and you eat in silence. The chatter of the diner is the only noise around you. Harry steals glances at you, but you never meet his gaze. Too nervous for that. You finish most of your food, but stop once you see Harry set his fork down. Your hands are quick to go in your lap, slowly tracing patterns up and down your palm to keep calm. 

"We've got to talk." 

You sit there patiently, allowing Harry to be the first one to speak. Harry wanted this so bad he has the floor.

Harry stares at you, and he's afraid he's going to lose you after this moment. 

"I'm sorry, let me start with that." He reaches his hand out but pulls back when he sees them in your lap. "There's no excuse for what I did. I was awful, and you deserve better. You deserve trust, and I didn't give it to you." He takes a deep breath. "Looking back, you let me in, really in, but I always kept you at arm's length, waiting for you to mess up. An excuse to hurt you instead of being the one who gets hurt, but in the end, that didn't work out."

"Harry," You try to cut in.

"No, let me finish." You give the nod, and he continues. 

"Those words I said were not true at all. You never used me for nothing. We always did things in private. I'd always force you to go to the bar with us. That dinner was the first time you initiated a public outing, and even then, the place was small and quiet."

"I don't like crowds, and you don't like paparazzi." You say because it's just that simple.

"See, Y/N. You look to put others before you, but I don't want you to do that now. I acknowledge what I did was awful. I told my mum about it because the guilt was eating at me, and she was so disappointed in me. I'm disappointed in me." 

Harry frowns, looking down at his bare hands. The rings at home, no comfort. He holds himself bare in front of you. 

"I want you to put yourself first even if that means not being in my life anymore." 

You focused your eyes on him. This is Harry, honest and nervous Harry. The guy who recites love actually as it plays. Who laughs out loud to all of Mitch's jokes. The one who always rushes to open your doors. 

"Thank you. This is still a lot." Your eyes begin to burn as you remember his confession. "You said-"Your voice cracks. "You said you were falling in love with me." 

Harry's green eyes begin to fill with tears. He nods in acknowledgment of your words.

"My brother is my best friend but Harry, so were you. Those two months felt like ten years, I felt like you've been in my life forever. That hurt Harry, all because what I was sleeping on was someone's arm like I didn't do it before you, and I won't do it after you." You pause to get your emotions under control. "My brother vouched for you. Said you apologized and cried. That you were quick to see your mistake. My brother approves of few people and to have his approval even after what happened means he sees the good in you." 

"Thomas was amazing. I'm glad you have each other." Harry inputs wanting you to know the feeling is mutual. 

"Harry," you take a drink of water. "We were never together. never went on a date, never asked to be boyfriend or girlfriend, we never kissed." 

"It felt like we were," Harry tells you.

"You're right," You set your hands on the table. "That's why it hurt so much when you said all that to me." 

He doesn't deserve you, he knows that, which is why your next words surprise him. 

"I forgive you."

"Thank you," Harry moves to hold your hand, but you don't let him. 

He doesn't hide his shock. 

"I just can't be with you, at least not now." He nods. "You have to understand, I think we'd burn together."

"You don't mean that." It comes out in a whisper. 

"I'm doing what's best for us now. I care too much about you to go into a relationship only for us to break each other's hearts." 

Harry's heart is breaking, and there's no one else to blame but himself. 

"We're bound to run into each other again, Sarah's my best friend and Mitch is her sidekick. I'm not asking you to wait for me, that'd be wrong. But if we ever find yourself in the same place and the feelings are there, and we both feel the timing is right, then I'll be open to asking you on a date or you asking me."

Harry smiles in understanding, no matter how much it hurts him.  

There's not much left to say. Harry knows this is goodbye. "You'll always be my friend, I hope you know I'll always be a phone call away."

You nod and stand up. "Thank you, Harry. I'm here for you as well." 

Harry stands and wraps his arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze. 

"I'm sorry for hurting you. I really am, but thank you for giving me the chance to grow and learn." He steps back. 

"You're a good man, Harry." 

"And you have the purest most beautiful soul." Harry's staring into your eyes, and you can't help but tear up. 

You reach forward and squeeze his hand three times. 

"Take care, H."

 Harry watches as you walk out of the diner. 

He's lost you once again, but he knows your paths will cross once more. 

* * * * *

I love you so much! Thank you for reading! 

Please let me know what you thought about Confession ll 

[amirajones]

Forbidden love: The Pirate and the Pirate Princess pt. 1

Pairing: Princess Amira White x Killian Jones (Hook) 

wordcount: 2293

I question when it started or when it was all going downhill in my royal life that things just seemed...dull. I could never complain about my life, except well the worst day of my life as a child. It was a good day I was eight going to be nine soon and Snow's birthday was the next day. We were both so happy about it to celebrate with our mother and father. Had mother never gotten sick and tried to make it like she was fine we could have possibly done something to help her instead I was useless to help one of the two people I cared about most in this world. We had no choice but to watch her slowly die and even when Snow had gone out to find a cure the answer was something dark that neither of us wanted to consider.

I think during the funeral is when my world started to look not as bright anymore with my mother's death. I was so young so the sadness had a good hold on me but even so Snow tried making me feel better. After a few months dad made us Travel by horse, while Johanna our hand maiden who had taken over being the mother figure in our life was walking beside the horses. The one I was riding was a beautiful white horse but like Snow I loathed the constant traveling.

We traveled for days going from kingdom to kingdom in search of what father called our future stepmother. I was tired of the traveling to the point of just leaning against the horse and about to just collapse. Johanna was the one who made it easier to keep going knowing this was never going to be an easy thing for the two of us.

"Snow, Amira your father King Leopold is a lonely man now that your mother has passed away." Johanna said "I know Johanna but that does not mean we are not tired." Amira said

We made it to another kingdom where we were welcomed by the royals of the castle, I expected much of the same with the last two kingdoms. Snow had gotten down and she was so cheerful and social while I was merely watching without speaking. Johanna had learned between the two of us which one wanted to talk to the people and who would rather stay in the background.

"Amira, you should be more like your sister and talk to people. Someday you will run a kingdom of your own next to a King." Johanna said "Wishful thinking but I want to see what is in the world before I settle down." Amira said

No one approved of my thoughts but I was different than most princesses, I guess it came with being second in line. There was a pier close by from what I looked around but saw father and Snow were having a good time talking. So I decided to speak up.

"May I look around your kingdom?" I asked "Of course Princess, you can look as far as you want even to the village." The king of the kingdom said "I will go with you." Johanna said

I walked for a bit glad to get off the horse for traveling and we walked until we made it to the pier. I sat on the edge looking out at the sea wanting to know what was out there beyond the land. Beyond these meaningless traveling and this royal life where people did what he asked cause we were in higher society than them.

"You seem so lost in thoughts." Johanna said "I just want to see what is out there, father says when I'm older but hat if he doesn't?" Amira said "You'll have access to your father's ship." Johanna said "yes, when I am older." Amira said "You will be able to do everything you want in time, but you must keep yourself going forward for your mother's wishes." Joahanna said

My mother, it was hard to even think that she wasn't here anymore and the fact that we didn't even know why or how she died. Life was just beating through the time but it was easier with father than living without him. It was easier with doing so much more but there was ways to do it and waiting for it to be done the right way.

We stayed here for a few days but just like all the other kingdoms dad didn't find what he was looking for so we were back on the road with the horses. I blocked out most of what happened just to get through it but it was during these travels we met our stepmother Regina. She was nice in the beginning but people can change for the worst.

When we returned home I was overly happy and ran to my room to put away the gifts we got on our travel but to lay in my own bed was a blessing.

A couple years passed since then as Snow and I took up learning how to sword fight in case we ever needed it someday. Father was over protective but with Snow and I as his daughters he knew we needed to know how to fight. I heard him talking about a party when we were older. A masquerade ball in our honor which actually helped me get into a good mood with something to do as we practiced for years. Time passed with our practice and though I hadn't had much match against Snow in the beginning we became apart of those who got to be better.

All that practicing payed off but still the time came when the masquerade ball was happening. Johanna had some outfits made for us. I went to my room and checked out what I had option wise and It was hard to decide. Blue dress with a pretty blue mask to go with it or a red dress knee high with a gold mask. It made it so hard to decide whether I wanted to go proper or I wanted to be a bit rebel.

Options:

I decided to go with the red dress as it gave more mystery and I didn't want the people bowing to me. I didn't want to be proper so I had to figure this out on my own but Johanna came in seeing what I was doing and she helped me. She didn't even show any disapprovement in my choice for tonight just went along and tended to it. She also styled my hair to where people wouldn't recognize me. It was the first time my hair had been up since mother died and when I put my mask on I didn't even recognize myself.

"You look so pretty Amira." Johana said "thank you Johanna." Amira said

When I left the room I knew Johanna wouldn't be attending so when we could walk in I was glad we didn't have to be announced. I saw father talking with the people, this masquerade had a mix of royals and the people of the kingdom. I walked being at ease with no one approaching and bowing glad that I could do as I pleased. As I walked I went over to the drink table getting a cup of punch when I heard a familiar voice and looked.

"You look amazing tonight Mira." Derek said "What gave it away it was me?" Amira asked "Every princess or maiden is wearing a dress that goes down to the ground." Derek said "Right, I didn't feel like being proper tonight." Amira said "Rebellious as always, less expectations on you so you don't have to worry." Derek said

Derek is my best friend from another kingdom, he went through that boy phase of not liking girls with having to see his intended every summer. I have met her a few times and didn't mind hanging with her but I wasn't allowed to go crazy. Father has been very over protective with me and Snow. We were always social with each other during events with everything going on but we walked through the crowd when I landed on one of the peasant girls in my village named Analise.

"Analise!" I yelled

Analise was already having punch with her brown hair, black dress and mask on for the party as she noticed us. I walked over and we all started talking like it wasn't some big event as I saw my sister come in. She was a bit later than I expected as I saw her white flowing gown and her mask. I knew she always represented what we stood for but she was next to be Queen. I admired my sister so much but I wanted to be just like her.

Snow's Attire:

I talked with my friends knowing that this was good enough for me but when I was out of punch I went to get some more. I was on my own as I refilled my glass taking a sip of my glass when I heard the sound of foot steps. I knew it was possibly my imagination but I felt someone tap on my shoulder which made me look.

"Forgive me, you're quite beautiful tonight." The man said "thank you, uh.." I realized I never saw him before "Where are my manners, I'm Prince Nicholas. I was wondering if you could tell me where I might find Princess Amira." Nicholas said

My whole body about tensed hearing this prince was looking for me but he was looking for someone dressed more properly than I was. Snow was sort of easy to tell her name was Snow and she was wearing white. I knew I could lie after all I couldn't do it with my family but I could give it a try.

"Sorry No. I..I don't know where Lady Amira is." Amira said Nicholas seemed to notice my hesitation and he seemed to be about to say something when another man joined in and suddenly put his arm around me. "Luv, here you are I've been looking for you." He said I didn't know this man but he was helping "why Yes, I was getting some punch." I said going along with it.

Watching as the prince left seeming to buy the sudden intruders ways of cutting in the conversation I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. I felt the man let me go but not leave as I was looking around. I wanted to know why a sudden stranger would just jump in and save me like that without even knowing the situation.

"thank you sir." I said I saw him take my gloved hand and kiss it "Killian Jones." He said as I looked at him through my mask and saw he was also wearing one. "Now Princess Amira, you should be a bit more careful."

My whole body went into sock as he realized who was I was, this couldn't be happening to me. I as so sure no one would figure out my disguise but all the more reason to figure out who was behind the mask. I still inquired about what he was doing here after all I was curious now.

"How did you figure out who I am?" Amira asked "What brings you to the ball? gold? Jewels?" "Quite perceptive of you to be so bold Princess." Killian said "No one helps out for any reason if not for some gain." Amira said "Why I came is my business, but you seemed very uncomfortable with the prince." Killian said "How perceptive." Amira said

I thought my next words carefully knowing this was a man I'd never met and yet here I was talking with him. I took another sip of my punch keeping in mind that I had to represent this kingdom. My father was out dancing with my sister and my step mother was just sitting at a table. My world had seemed dull for quite some time but now it seemed color was resurfacing.

"Let me guess, you want to do things before you get married." Killian said before I could answer. "Yes, I want to sail the seas see what is out there. Fall in love on my own terms with whoever I want." Amira said "Well, I've been around some time. Maybe you should meet me at the tavern. I would love to know just how Amira is." Killian said

To say I wasn't interested was a lie cause he had my attention even when I didn't think any man would ever have my attention on anything. Derek and Analise came over which got my attention for a minute. Analise smiled seeing I was talking to someone for once she knew I wasn't very social with people.

"Mira, who is this?" Derek asked "My savior for the night, seems there is a prince looking for me tonight and he was able to rescue me from an awkward encounter." Amira said "Does your savior have a name?" Analise asked "Killian Jones." Killian said

The surprised look on Analise's face told me more than I needed to know that something was up she recognized that name. She pulled me over to her where Killian couldn't hear her and she whispered one word in my ear.

"He's a pirate, the one people call Hook." Analise whispered.

[assembledherethevolunteers]

Request 3

A/N: Well hi, everybody! I got this request just about a month ago from the amazing @phantoms-lynn! She said her birthday was coming up and I’m not sure if this is late or not, but I hope you had/have a great birthday and thank you for the request! I hope you all enjoy some birthdays!

Pairing: Freddie Mercury x Jim Hutton w/ daughter!reader

Summary: Some snapshots of your birthdays with your Papa (Freddie) and Dad (Jim)

Warnings: None really, fluff, suggested underage drinking

Taglist: @queenlover05 @theblossomknows (if you’d like to be added let me know!)

 You opened your eyes, slowly, giving yourself time to wake up. Even though you hadn’t been sleeping that much. You were too excited. You were more excited for this day than Christmas.

Because this day was just about you. And maybe that was selfish, and you knew that was wrong, but it was one of the few days that Papa took the whole day off and Daddy made your favorite foods for all three meals.

You saw that the sun was starting to come up but you know that you should wait until one of your fathers came and got you.

You laid in bed for a while until you couldn’t wait anymore (which in all honesty was maybe fifteen minutes). You got up and tried to sneak into your fathers’ rooms as quietly as possible. You saw both of them, still asleep.  You walked over to their bed and stood there for a moment before your Dad woke up.

“Y/N, what are you doing in here?”

“I got excited and couldn’t sleep,” you whispered to him.

He smiled at you and then sat up. “Well, I think it’s still a bit early for breakfast, so why don’t you come snuggle with me and Papa?”

You smiled and climbed into bed and actually fell back asleep for a little while. Until…

“Jim, dear, it seems we have a rather large bed bug.”

“We do, but it was cute, so I decided we should keep it.”

You giggled as your fathers turned over and started to cuddle with you, even though they talked over your head.

“Well, I supposed I agree with you. She is very cute,” your papa pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I also think this might be a very special day for her, so I don’t think we should kick her out of bed. What do you think?”

“We don’t want to be rude hosts.”

You felt your dad kiss the very top of your head.

“How old are you now, little bed bug?” Your papa asked.

“Eight!”

“Eight? That can’t be right. I’m not old enough to have an eight-year-old bed bug.”

You wanted to keep the game up, but your stomach gave a growl.

“Daddy, can we have pancakes?”

Your dad told you that you could and the three of you got out of bed and down to the kitchen.

“Alright, Lovie, why don’t you help Dad and I’ll supervise,” your papa gave you a wide smile.

You liked his smile. You don’t know why he didn’t.

“Freddie, you wouldn’t know how to supervise a kitchen if your life depended on it.”

You laughed at your papa when he stuck his tongue out at your dad’s back when he grabbed the eggs from the refrigerator.

The three (okay, really two) of you got to work on the pancakes. You always loved cooking in the kitchen with your dad, and sometimes, like today, your papa would make up little songs as you did so.

“’And she mixed and she mixed in her little bowl. Making sure there was enough to make them full.’ You know, Romeo, I think I’m on to something,” your papa hummed to the cat.

You and your dad made breakfast, complete with pancakes, and then the three of you ate it together.

“So, what do you want to do for your birthday?”

“Can we go to the park? And then maybe we can get some ice cream!” You started bouncing up and down in your seat. There was a stand not far from the park that had the best ice cream.

“Well, that seems reasonable. But first,” your papa looked at your dad. “Jim, don’t you think we should do presents?”

The rest of the day was spent with your fathers. They took you to the park and even stopped for ice cream. The sun was starting to set when you were on your way home. You were pulling into the driveway at home, eating your ice cream, when you noticed that there were a lot of cars in the driveway.

“Why are all these cars here?”

You noticed your fathers smile at each other, but neither of them answered you. You were about to ask again when you saw balloons tied to the front of your door.

“Daddy? Papa?”

“Come on, Lovie, let’s get you inside.”

The three of you made your way to the front door. Your papa opened the front door and a shout of “SURPRISE!” made you jump.

Standing in the front room were your uncles, aunts, and grandparents. You gasped and ran right to your grandparents.

“Grandma! Grandpa! I’ve missed you!”

“Oh, we’ve missed you too, my darling,” your Grandma mumbled into your hair before pressing kisses all over the top of your head.

“Auntie Kash!”

Your aunt scooped you up in her arms and squeezed you tight.

“Happy birthday, you gorgeous girl.”

“Thank you!”

She let you down and you then ran to your uncles (that weren’t ACTUALLY your uncles, but you called them that anyway).

“Well hello there!” Your Uncle John picked you up and hugged you tight before spinning around with you, making you laugh. “Happy birthday, beautiful,” He gave you a kiss on the side of your head.

“Thank you, Uncle John,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

You gave similar greetings to your Uncle Brian and Uncle Roger before one of your cousins came up and the two of you ran off to play.

You got all kinds of presents, including a guitar from your Uncle Brian that was a smaller version of his Red Special. Your grandmother had baked your favorite cake. Your papa and uncles sang your favorite song of theirs.

That night, you started to drift off in your Uncle Roger’s lap. You heard your dad ask if you were ready to go to sleep. You shook your head, but the next thing you remembered, you were being tucked in.

“But Daaaaaddy,” you muttered at him halfheartedly.

“Sh, Princess, you need your rest.”

You hummed in protest, but were now too tired to actually argue. You felt your dad kiss you one more time before you finally succumbed to sleep.

It was one of your favorite birthdays so far.

Nine Years Later

“HAAAAAAPPY BIIIIIIIRTHDAY, DEAR Y/N!”

Your eyes cracked open to see your dad and papa holding a cupcake with a candle. You smiled, but still brought the blanket up to cover your head.

“Daaaaaad, Paaaaaaapa, it’s too early,” you whined at them.

“’Too early’? It’s nearly noon!” Your papa’s voice was nearly offended, as if sleeping so late was the worst thing you could’ve done. “And you call me dramatic.”

“You’re both dramatic,” your dad’s voice responded. You could hear the smile and the shake of his head.

“Blame my up bringing,” you said, still under the blanket.

“Oh gladly,” your dad replied. Your papa squeaked, but your dad kept talking. “But, you really do need to get up because your grandparents will be here for lunch in about an hour.”

You hummed, letting him know that you’d heard him.

“And if you don’t get up for that, we won’t have your party tonight, so those are your options,” your dad proclaimed nonchalantly before you heard him leave.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have your party,” you heard your papa whisper. “But you really do need to get up otherwise your dad will come back in here and yell. And you know he gets scary when he yells.”

You laughed to yourself because you’re pretty sure the last time you heard your dad yell it had been because one of the cats got out the front door.

You finally sat up and pulled the blanket away from your head, your papa still standing near your bed with the candle.

“Make a wish, Lovie.”

Later that night, you were getting ready for your party in your attached bathroom.

It was going to just be you and your friends. Your fathers were going to go out and not be home until one, which you were a little surprised about. They’d let you have parties before, sure, but they usually only gave you a couple hours.

You were especially excited because there was a guy from your French class, Tyler, that was invited. The two of you had been paired up for a little skit you had to preform for the class and since then the two of you had flirted every chance you got. You hoped tonight would be the push the two of you needed to take it a step further.

There was a knock at your bedroom door.

“Yes?” You called out.

“Y/N?”

You poked your head out and smiled at your fathers. They were dressed to go out, probably waiting on a car that was going to take them into the city.

“Well don’t you two look handsome?”

“Don’t we always?” Your papa spun around, giving you a grand bow when he faced you again.

“Of course you do.”

“Y/N, we’re about to get going so, do we need to go over the rules again?”

You were going to shake your head until you saw the look in your dad’s eye, meaning it wasn’t a suggestion.

“No drinking, nobody is to spend the night unless you’ve already approved of them, no drinking, no touching the good records, and…what’s the last one?” You joked.

“No. Drinking.”

So, Dad clearly wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“Jim, dear, I think she gets it,” your papa sent you a wink. “Besides, I’m fairly sure that Phoebe and I finished all the alcohol in the house ages ago.”

Your dad humphed, but didn’t look at your papa, just you.

“Y/N, I’m serious. We can’t let underage people drink here.”

You nodded, knowing how serious it could be if it got out that minors were being given alcohol at Freddie Mercury’s house, whether he was home or not.

“I know, Dad.”

Your dad and papa exchanged looks before they pulled pulled you into a hug.

“We know you do, Princess,” your dad kissed the top of your head. “Just make sure your friends do too.”

“Y/N,” your best friend hissed at you.

You were in the kitchen, refilling one of the bowls of food about two hours after your fathers had left and the party was in full swing. One of your friends was in charge of the music and had been doing a great job. You were pretty sure that everybody was having a good time.

“Hm?” You didn’t look at her, making sure you didn’t over fill the bowl.

“Tyler is looking for you!” She grabbed your arm and shook it, trying to make you realize what she was really saying.

It almost made you drop the bag.

“R…really? He’s looking for me?”

She nodded, her eyes widened to emphasize her point.

You put the bag down and straightened your outfit.

“How do I look?”

Your friend looked you over and then dug into her pocket, producing a tube of lip gloss.

You took it and swiped it on, popping your lips before looking at your friend again. “Good?”

She nodded before leading you back to the living room where the makeshift dance floor was. She pulled you until you were almost next to Tyler, but didn’t want to interrupt him since he looked in the middle of a conversation. Until he turned around.

“Hey! There’s the birthday girl,” Tyler smiled at you.

It made your heart melt.

“Hi, Tyler.”

“This is a great party,” he glanced around, before his eyes landed on you again. “Just wish I had some more time with…”

There was a sudden shift in the music. The songs most of the night had been fast and upbeat, keeping the party atmosphere. This song, however, was slow.

You and Tyler stared at each other for the opening bars.

“Y/N, would you like to dance?”

Inside, you were squealing. It made the butterflies in your stomach flip and twitch. All you could do is nod.

Tyler took you by the hand and got you closer to the small “dance floor”. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you wrapped yours around his neck. He pulled you closer and flashed another smile. You returned it.

“You know, I’ve uh…I’ve been meaning to tell you this,” Tyler cleared his throat, as if he was nervous.

You held your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“I uh…I just…I really like you, and I’d like to think that you like me too and that maybe we could try to maybe make it work or at least try and…fuck. Why is it suddenly so hard to talk to you?”

You giggled, but bit your lip so that Tyler didn’t think you were laughing at him. You just thought it was cute that he was this nervous. To just talk to YOU.

“Tyler?” You offered him a way out.

“...yeah?” He responded, still looking like he was waiting for a rejection.

“I’d really like to try.”

Tyler’s face lit up and you were couldn’t help but beam back.

“So, I got you a present, but you’ve got to close your eyes.”

You squinted, jokingly suspiciously, before you closed your eyes totally.

And then you felt Tyler’s lips on yours. It was a bit clumsy and awkward, but overall, not bad. You could feel your heart beat accelerate.

“Woo! Get it, Y/N!”

You’d forgotten you were in the middle of your living room with all your friends around. You quickly pulled away, but kept yourself close enough that you could feel Tyler’s breath on your cheek.

“Best birthday ever,” you whispered to him.

Three Years Later

You played with the hem of your shirt as you leaned against your wall, listening to your papa talk on the phone.

“...and your Uncle John finally snapped and killed your Uncle Brian.”

“Well, we knew it was only a matter of time.”

“Ah, so you are listening.”

“I am, Papa, I’m just tired,” you told him.

You weren’t lying. You had been going to school full time and working part time at a local coffee shop. You wanted to make your own money, regardless of the offers from your papa.

“Oh, Lovie. You’re working too hard. I think you need some time to relax.”

“I know, I do. Maybe soon I can come home and visit you and Dad.”

“We would love that, sweetheart. Whenever you can. We miss you. And so do your uncles and aunts.”

You smiled, knowing he was serious. You’d talked to your Uncle Brian just the day before about an Astronomy assignment that had turned into a nearly two hour conversation just to catch up. You had barely been home this year, trying to keep up on your studies.

“I know, Papa. My birthday is coming up, so maybe I can come home for that.”

“Please do. Now, tell me about this boy in your Major American Authors class.”

“Paaaapa,” you groaned. Hundreds of miles away and he could still make you blush about boys.

You then tried really hard to get time off for your birthday, but it just wasn’t possible. You couldn’t get anybody to take your shifts and you didn’t want to lose your job. You called your fathers so that you could tell them you wouldn’t make it home for your birthday, but you hoped that you’d be home in the coming weeks some time. Your parents were devastated, of course, but they understood.

You were lying in bed, not ready to get up just yet. Hey, it was your birthday. You should get to spend the whole day in bed. You stayed in bed as long as you could, but you soon had to get up.

You went to the bathroom before you heard your phone ringing in the other room. You quickly ran to grab it.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Mr. Walker.”

“Look, we won’t you need you in today. Don’t worry about your shift,” your boss told you.  

You were dumbfounded. Had you done something? Did you not have a job anymore?

“Um…why’s that, Mr. Walker?”

“We got you covered is all, we’ll see you on Friday.”

Well, that meant that you still had a job, which was good.

“Okay, thank you, Mr. Walker.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Happy birthday,” Mr. Walker ended the conversation with the hang up of the phone.

You pulled the phone away and stared at it, confused. Had you told him that your birthday was coming up? Maybe somebody that you had asked to cover told him and he’d taken pity on you.

You hung the phone up, deciding not to worry about it. You went back to bed for a little bit before you decided to get ready for the day.

Basically, you took a shower and threw on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were relaxing with some music, trying to decide if you should get up and do some cleaning or studying when you heard a knock.

Your head whipped up because you weren’t really sure what who it could be. Maybe one of your friends from class had decided to show up and surprise you.

You stood up and opened the door, forgetting to check the peep hole.

You opened it to reveal...your fathers.

“Dad! Papa!” You threw yourself into their arms. You couldn’t help the tears that came to your eyes.

“Oof! Well, it’s good to see you too, darling,” your papa laughed and pressed a kiss to your head.

Your dad wrapped his arms around both of you.

“What are you two doing here?” You pulled away and looked them, wiping your eyes quickly.

“We had to see you on your birthday, Princess. And maybe we could go out to eat and you could show us around town a bit more.”

You beamed. “I’ll get changed.”

The rest of the day, you spent showing your dads around Glasgow. Yes, your parents had been there before and you’d shown them around a couple of times, but now you were more settled and you had your favorite spots. You even took them to the coffee shop you where you were working so you could introduce them to some of your coworkers.

You laughed and heard some stories that you hadn’t heard yet. Some were about your fathers, some were about your papa and your uncles, especially in the early days of the band.

After getting some lunch and ice cream, you all returned to your apartment. You decided to watch a movie and snuggled in with your dads, just like when you had been a kid.

You started to fall asleep with your head on your dad’s shoulder.

“I think you should get some sleep.”

“But Daaaaady…”

“Sh, Princess, you need your rest.”

You hummed, not quite arguing with him.

After some additional coaxing, your papa lead you to your room. He tucked you just like he used to when you were little.

“Good night, Lovie. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Papa.”

“We love you so so much.”

You grinned, even in your half asleep state. “Love you and Dad too.”

All in all, it was one of your favorite birthdays.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

CURSED: CHAPTER EIGHT

"Keep you huntin' for my lovin'"

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: Kai and Mack go to a party

Warnings: smut

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"Why the long face?" Kai taunted, making Mack scoff and roll her eyes. Ever since Halloween, Kai has constantly been hanging around Mack, meeting her at her locker, bothering her and Jo at lunch, insisting on driving her to and from school. He claimed it was to 'prevent anything happening with Ben' and to 'keep that son of a bitch's wandering hands' far, far away from her. She hated it at first, finding it way too constricting and suffocating. But now she was used to it, a month down the line and she started to like his little visits.

"I don't have a long face." She snapped, shutting her locker with a bang. Kai scoffed.

"Yeah, it's just been replaced with a snappy attitude. "He muttered, following Mack down the busy hallway. "Anyway, you'll be happy to know I'm taking you on a date tonight." Mack's eyes widened but Kai couldn't see that.

"A date? I'm not your girlfriend." Mack shot back, keeping walking.

"Yet." Kai mused, before chuckling and continuing. "Well, I thought since you never have fun anymore,"

"I do!"

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, since you never have fun anymore, I thought I would take you out on a date."

"Why?"

"Because we're gonna make your ex boo a little jealous." Kai said, strutting in front of Mack and bopping her on the nose. Mack scoffed, rolling her eyes and keeping walking, Kai falling into stride beside her. "So I was thinking, there's this party-"

"Party?! Kai what happened at the last party you went to?!" She cut him off instantly, horrified at his suggestion.

"If he keeps his grimy hands off you there won't be a problem. Anyway, so we'll go to the party, make sure Ben can see us, do a little dirty dancing," he winked at her, "maybe make out a little-"

"I am not making out with you, dick." Mack retorted.

"Okay, whatever you say Kenz." He whistled, throwing his arm over her shoulders, a smirk prominent on his lips.

"Fine." She finally agreed. Kai opened his mouth to say something but Mack was already talking again. "But no fights, no getting drunk and no going back to your house alone. Got it?" She pointed a finger at him, a stern expression on her face. He nodded.

"So no having fun? Cool." Kai mused, dragging her down the hall with him.

"This is me." Mack announced as they reached her class.

"See you later babe." Kai grinned, leaning to kiss her cheek and Mack shoved him away with her hand, muttering a 'get outta here' before shaking her head and biting her lip to hide a smile. Kai left grinning, waving goodbye as he continued down the corridor.

...

Staring at herself in the mirror, Mack ran her hands over her hips, tugging her dress down her thighs further - feeling too exposed. She sighed, turning to her bed and snatching up her jacket and a purse before walking out. A knock sounded as she walked down the stairs, she shouted 'coming!' Before she reached the bottom, pulling the door open. Kai smiled at her.

"Hey." She smiled.

"Hey babe," he greeted, making Mack roll her eyes, "you won't be needing that." He said, pointing to her jacket.

"What if I get cold?" She asked, frowning as he grabbed the fabric out of her hand and deposited it on the back of the sofa.

"Then you'll wear mine." He smirked, winking at her.

"No way!"

"Operation make Ben jealous, remember." He remarked, tapping his temple with his index finger. Mack rolled her eyes, muttering a 'whatever' before walking out the door. "You look gorgeous, by the way," Kai added as they wandered to his car, "that dress? Oooooh baby! So sexy and so..." he trailed off, surveying Mack while biting his bottom lip. Mack shook her head, opening the car door and jumping in.

"So where's this party?" Mack questioned once they were both in, already driving to where the party would be.

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises."

"I know."

...

"Look who's here!" The guys cheered, clapping Kai on the back and shoulders as they walked through the door. A few of them said hi to Mack too, but she was mostly ignored. Mack's eyes widened with shock when she felt Kai's fingers intertwine with hers, pulling the girl so she was stood next to him.

"I don't want you leaving my sight, okay?" He said lowly, looking into Mack's eyes with what looked like concern. Mack's brows knitted together.

"I'm not your property, I'll do whatever the hell I like." She snapped, giving him a look of disbelief. Kai rolled his eyes.

"I know that, I only meant so that if Ben shows up I can keep the fucker away from you." He reasoned, letting her hand go and his face brightening again. "What do you wanna drink?" He asked, turning to the table beside them and grabbing himself a beer.

"I'll have one of those too." His eyebrows shot up, mock surprise slapped over Kai's face.

"You drink? Whatever happened to the innocent little girl I terrorised on my first day?" Kai teased, handing Mack a red cup filled with the shitty beer, which she knocked half of back in one gulp. "Someone's trying to forget something. Or loosen up, you know - I can never tell." He mused, tilting his head and she finished the drink and handed the cup back to him.

Kai chuckled, handing a refilled cup of beer to Mack and leaning against the table, taking a much smaller sip of his own.

Mack stiffened at the sight of Ben, laughing and chatting with his mates, like he hadn't raped a girl or beaten his own girlfriend. Even the sight of him repulsed her, and she was quick to set her cup down next to Kai. Noticing this, Kai stood up straight, discarding his now-empty cup and grabbing Mack's hand. He pulled her to the centre of the room, yet her gaze never left Ben.

Mack became aware of the loud music, the clashing bodies and the heat as people danced when Kai's hands found her waist. He guided her hips to sway to the music, moving her hands to loop around his neck. His mouth dipped to her ear, trying to pull her out of the trance over the loudness of the music.

"Just relax. Focus on me, sweetheart." He encouraged, pulling back enough to look the anxious girl in the eye. Mack gave him a quick nod, slowly letting her body loosen and move, side to side.

All her worry seemed to melt away, her body spinning so her back pressed to Kai's solid front, his hands still holding her waist possessively. One of her arms reached back, wrapping back around his neck and her head turned to the side, catching a glimpse of him over her shoulder before she closed her eyes - getting completely lost in the music. Kai's fingertips hovered over her curves, sending a welcome shiver down her spine before they rested on her hips, showing Mack how to grind back against him.

Kai caught Ben's eye, giving the fuming boy a sly smirk before dipping his head down to Mack's neck. Now he knew Ben was watching, Kai was going to put on a show. He nudged her head to the side with his nose, leaving open-mouthed kisses over the exposed flesh of the girls neck. Mack let out a sigh, her fingers scratching at the base of his neck and she grinned against him harder.

Mack's eyes finally opened, she twisted herself around enough to look into Kai's eyes and hers instantly flicked to his lips, before going back up again. She noticed his doing the same, and all her morals and thoughts went out the window as she leaned in and kissed him.

Kai's lips were surprisingly soft against hers, and Mack found herself twisting so she was facing him completely again. His hands stayed on her waist, while hers went around his neck and played with the hairs at the base of his neck. His tongue rolled over her bottom lip, entering her mouth when she parted her lips. It moved over hers in languid strokes, his pressure changing every now-and-then, making the kiss one of the best she'd ever had. When she finally pulled away they were breathless, Mack resting her forehead against Kai's.

"I thought you said there'd be no making out." Kai panted, his smirk creeping back into his plump lips.

"I did." Mack whispered, leaning up to kiss him again. It was Kai to pull away this time, staring into Mack's eyes which only seemed to keep his prisoner. That was until he spotted a red-faced Ben shooting daggers at them over Mack's shoulder and his lips quirked upwards.

"Do you wanna go home?" He asked, still catching his breath.

"Yes." Mack breathed, interlocking their fingers and dragging Kai out to his car.

Reaching the vehicle, Kai eagerly jumped into the drivers seat after helping Mack into the passenger's side. Kai fumbled with his keys, but was cut off when Mack slapped them out his hands. She lifted her leg over the middle console, resting her thighs against his and straddling Kai. He smirked up at her, his hands settling at the tops of her thighs.

"I thought you wanted to go home."

"I couldn't wait that long." Mack decided, crashing her lips to his and rocking her hips over Kai's. He moaned into the kiss, running a hand up her back and fiddling with the zip of her dress, before pulling it down the train and letting the fabric loosen around her. Mack shrugged the straps over her shoulders, letting the dress bunch around her waist as it had ridden up her thighs when she sat down over him too. Kai stared at her chest with awe, before muttering:

"Beautiful." And diving down, leaving wet kisses over the swell of her breasts where they willed out of her bra. Mack's head rolled back in pleasure, her fingers running through Kai's hair and tugging. His hand reached round, unclasping her bra with a small bit of struggle and letting the material fall over her shoulder and onto the floor of his car.

Kai was quick to suck one of her nipples into his mouth, bringing his hand from her thigh to palm at the neglected one.

"Fuck, Kai." Mack moaned, rocking her hips even faster against his, her clit digging into the rough denim of his jeans making her groan. She could feel how hard he was under the fabric and it turned her on even more, the feeling of wetness flooding her panties. "You're wearing too many clothes." She complained, tugging at the hem of Kai's shirt.

He pulled back from he nipple with a pop, before hastily removing his top and reconnecting their lips in a lustful, passionate kiss. His hands trailed up and down her thighs, before one bentured between her legs. He ran a finger over her soaked panties, groaning at how wet she was. He pulled the sodden fabric to the side, running his fingers through her folds and collecting some of her juices.

She made quick work of his belt, pulling his member out of his jeans and Mack slowly sunk down on his and he held her hips to support her.

"Fuck." They both moaned, Mack's eyes rolling back as she collapsed against his chest.

[sprout-fics]

Not to vent about personal problems on here but

I’ve been dealing with a medication boondoggle for the past week or so that has just...stripped away every ounce of my sanity.

I have Endometriosis, or Endo for short. What that translates to is that I need a specific hormone medication to keep me functional. Without it I get headaches, bad nausea, hot flashes, debilitating menstrual cramps, and terrible awful hormonal mood swings. And that’s when I’m NOT on my monthly.

So when I was close to running out recently I asked for a refill and got told I needed to go for an appointment with my doc. No problem, they managed to even fit me in the next day. Then I go to pick up my prescription and they say it’s in process. Okayyyy I’m running pretty low but I can manage.

The next thing I know it’s been a week since I ran out, my symptoms are getting really freaking bad, and my prescription hasn’t been filled. Turns out there’s a kink in the system between the docs office, pharmacy, and insurance. I have had to make at least a dozen calls in the past 12 hours, and even more last week.

So I finally get my meds today and?? It’s for 28 days. Not 6 months, not even 3 months. Twenty. Eight. Days. And this pharmacy, which routinely will give me 4 packets (4 weeks) instead of 4 boxes (4 months) tells me my doc never put in for another 90 or 180 day prescription. So now I have to make ANOTHER series of phone calls and I’m assddggjkjgfdf

So I have meds to prevent my body from going into total hormonal shut down, but now I have to call my doc tomorrow (after I’ve been calling several times for the past few days) and be like “Hi! What the fuck? 🙃”

This is after I’ve been to no less than 5 other women’s health doctors who gave me some combo of “lose 30 pounds and come back to us” or “idk man I guess you’re just weird” plus a surgery that turned out to be completely unnecessary. I can’t afford to find another doc bc this is the first one who’s taken me seriously and given me medication that actually works.

UGH!!!! I fucking hate being a woman sometimes. Do men deal with this shit? I hope every make doctor who deals with Endo patients has dealt with the male equivalent of being ignored by your doctors at least once. This is insane.

[marie-dufresne]

Little Shooting Star

🧬 Main Verse Page 🧬

Little Shooting Star: It’s time for science, and healthy little interns make excellent test subjects.

Marie had found a rhythm down in the laboratory. Since she wasn’t actively involved in any research, she had taken it upon herself to ensure the professor was well taken care of, as he didn’t seem to have any interest in doing it himself.

At six, six-thirty, seven, seven-thirty, and eight, she presented him with a fresh cup of coffee. Between the hours of seven and eleven, she refilled his water every forty-five minutes. At noon, tea accompanied take-out lunch. Water until two. From two to five, she alternated water and coffee on the half-hour. At six, another take-out meal served with either cola or whiskey depending on the progression of his day. Then it was water every forty minutes until eight, where she put on a pot of coffee, placed his clean mug next to his diary, and left for the night.

On Mondays she re-stocked the cabinet with cigarettes. She couldn’t stand the stench of the things, but it was not her place to tell him to quit so instead, she made herself busy emptying out his ashtray as often as she could. This also allowed her to count how many he’d had, and be at the ready to switch out his empty pack for a fresh one without him ever having to move from his task or pat his coat and mumble, ‘the fuck are my smokes?’

It was a system that worked. She stayed out of everyone’s way while still being useful. Hojo would never admit to being impressed, but he found himself moving in sync with her, despite his days being largely unstructured to begin with. Perhaps having an intern wasn’t the worst thing that had been foisted upon him.

A few months into her tenure with him, he found himself on a stool in his office, a small side project having failed its first go. With his legs up on the highest rungs, he pursed his lips, staring at a severed arm on a tray, watching the liquid he’d dropped into the gash he’d cut…do absolutely nothing at all.

He gave a little grunt. How disappointing.

Marie appeared in the office then, right on time with a steaming coffee. He almost ignored her, but the underside her arm caught his eye.

“How much do you know about cell regeneration?”

She laughed, completely unfazed by the decaying arm before her. (It wasn’t the first time.)

“Nothing? Come on, professor,” she teased, taking his long hair in her hand, gently twisting the ponytail around her wrist before returning it to his back with a flourish, “you know that.”

Hojo spun on the stool, taking hold of that hand and feeling the silky flesh of her wrist. She was always touching him. Why?

“It’s time for a lesson,” he decided, his grip tightening as he pulled her over to the table and pressed her arm down, yanking her slightly while he brought up two leather straps to secure the appendage in place. His concoction hadn’t worked on the dead. Perhaps on the living.

Marie was easy to overpower, easy to stun, and found herself unable to resist being restrained and she stood, slightly hunched over the steel table, eyes wide. Why would he need to restrain her?

“All living things are able to regenerate to some degree,” he began, pushing the severed arm out of the way and presenting her with an amber bottle of swirling fluid, “let’s see if we can help the process along, hm?”

“…what?”

He ignored her soft concern and gestured to the bottle. “That there is liquid Cure. Or at least a prototype of it. You and I are going to work together to see if it works. Since you aren’t equipped to use materia, consider this compensation for your participation. If it is successful, of course.”

Her….participation?

“I don’t…I don’t understand. Materia is magic. How can you just put it in a bottle?!”

An annoyed brow piqued at her question and he swiped a recording device from his desk before thrusting his face barely an inch from hers.

“There is no such thing as magic, Fuzzy. Only incompetent idiots who can’t grasp the concept science will tell you otherwise.”

He didn’t give her a chance to question him further, pressing a button on the device and turning from her.

“Liquid Cure test number two. Subject is living. Human female in her late teens, generally healthy with no known defects…”

Marie pulled at her arm, trying to free it from the straps, and the leather cut into her skin, the friction of the raw edge unkind against the tender flesh.

“I—I’m not a test subject!” she protested, shoes slipping against the polished concrete, giving her no footing. How many times had she been told to wear rubber soles?

“Everyone is a test subject,” he replied, an offhanded remark as he pulled open a drawer, retrieving a fresh scalpel and lowering himself to his chair, rolling over to where he’d trapped her. “Life itself is an experiment, isn’t it?”

Eyes wide, Marie’s gaze darted from the blade to his face, back and forth, trying to decide whether he was playing a cruel prank on her or if he actually intended on cutting her open. He seemed serious, scooting his chair over before he stood, adjusting his glasses slightly as he peered over at her arm.

“A little bit of advice to you, since ladies are so fond of exsanguination. Should you ever feel the desire to make an attempt on your life, you’ll end it far quicker if you travel down the road—“ he trailed a fingertip down the length of her exposed arm, giving her a little smirk before he made a little pass across her wrist, “—than across.”

What? …was he giving her…suicide tips?

 Her throat got tight and she tried wiggling again, shaking her head so violently, she might as well have been vibrating.

“I don’t want to do this,” she told him, chin wobbling as the tears built up along her lashline, spilling over and leaving ugly tracks as they fell. “I don’t—no, no, this is not—this is not my job.”

Hojo let out a little breath of air through his nose, turning to look up at her, undeterred by her tears.

“Whether it’s your job or not doesn’t matter to me. I have an opportunity, so I’m taking it. Now hold still and don’t scream. I have a headache.”

His hand was on her arm then, ignoring the way she thrashed against the restraints and her pleas for him to stop. Every ‘sir’ or ‘no’ or ‘please’ fell on deaf ears, his eyes focused only on the limb beneath his blade. He wasn’t the reckless madman she was no doubt painting him as. He knew where to cut safely, how to cut safely and, if he hadn’t successfully liquified Cure, how to stitch her up so she wouldn’t bleed out. She was perfectly safe, even if the blood spilling up over her arm and pooling on the steel beneath her suggested otherwise.

Satisfied with the incision, he reached over for the bottle. “Stop moving,” he warned, “you’ll die faster if you keep panicking.”

Marie felt one of her fingernails crack right down the middle, so strong was her grip on the lip of the table she was confined to. She obeyed, perhaps more out of shock than anything else, eyes fixated on the sight of her own mutilation before her, desperately trying to make an excuse for it.

It was for science. For science. For science. If they were successful, if he was successful, they could help people with this discovery. It would be a good thing.

Clenching her fist, she squeezed her eyes shut when he reached for the bottle, and prepared for anything worse than the searing pain shooting up her arm. What she felt instead, was cold. It was a pleasant cold, like drinking iced water after chewing a minty stick of gum, or the soothing chill of menthol gel on a congested chest. It tingled slightly, like the way a limb comes back after being asleep and she opened her eyes, fist still clenched beneath the leather straps.

“Well look at that.”

Her arm was…fine. Bloodied, but in tact again. The professor ran his hand over the soft flesh, feeling for the wound, rubbing at it to find weakness, but even he quirked a brow and gave a satisfied hum.

Marie couldn’t find it in herself to speak. She was unable to move, to think, to comprehend what she was seeing. It seemed more to her than she’d imagined everything. It was far easier to believe that she’d hallucinated the incision than it was to believe her body had simply healed itself within seconds.

She didn’t register him unbuckling the straps and freeing her arm, or the wet cloth he tossed at her. Ten minutes passed by and not a single muscle in her body had moved. She wasn’t thinking. Her existence was floating somewhere else, somewhere out of tune with her surroundings, and it wasn’t until Hojo took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him that she came back.

Her lips moved, but just barely, in a small whisper that tried to be ‘what?’, but died quickly on her tongue.

“I said, clean up.”

She turned back to the table, her neck moving in a mechanical, rusted manner, taking in the blood that coated her skin, drying and caking around an invisible wound but from there, was unable to do anything else.

Hojo pursed his lips, a short breath of annoyance huffing out his nose. Her stomach was strong. He appreciated that. Her mind, however, he found lacking. She was in shock, and there wasn’t much to be done about it now.

He kicked his chair over to her, pushing her down into it and shook his head, swiping up the cloth and returning to the sink. Fine. He’d do the cleaning then. It was just a little blood.

Honey, not vinegar.

He cleaned the table first. It was easy work and done quickly, sanitized, and like new. The beauty of metal. He nudged a second chair over with his foot, catching himself as he plopped onto it, then scooted over to his assistant, taking her arm in his hand as he began to tend to the steadily drying stickiness on her arm.

“You…you did well,” he told her, rubbing the burgundy from the little light hairs on her forearm, “and…you’re fine now. You’re going to be fine.”

Or at least he thought she could be. Who knew what side effects she could suffer from. Not many, he predicted.

She relaxed a bit, blinking and watching him tend to her, before she heaved a sigh. Good, she was coming around.

“I probably would have said yes.”

Hojo looked up, taking in the murky splotches of makeup beneath her eyes and on her cheeks, realizing he’d never seen her any less than put together until now.

“If you had just asked,” she clarified, “If you had asked to try it out on me…it would have been easier.”

He let out a small chuckle, wheeling back to the sink and wetting a new cloth. So lost in his enthusiasm, he hadn’t even considered asking. Easier to beg forgiveness and all. Not that he had any intention of begging her forgiveness, but if she had denied his request, having forced her into the experiment regardless would likely have bit him in the ass afterwards.

“Well I’ll remember that next time,” he mused, rolling back to her and lifting the damp cloth up to her cheek, wiping away the smudges.

“I don’t want to think about a next time right now,” she admitted, one little corner of her mouth turning up just a hair, “I’m all scienced out.”

He nodded, understanding. He supposed he had acted a bit rashly. He’d grown accustomed to the way she made things work for him. He’d grown spoiled; he wouldn’t jeopardize it just yet.

“Go ahead and go home for the day,” he suggested, pressing the bottle into her hand and curling her fingers around it, “rest up and call if anything unusual happens.”

She was staring again and he dipped his head, conceding, “…whenever you’re ready.”

He placed a cup of water down on the table, then resumed his work. She left shortly after, bidding him good afternoon and stopping to be sure there was a fresh pot of coffee on for him to retrieve in her absence.

There was silence for the better part of the rest of his day, the hours spent arranging data, calculating, and projecting. It wasn’t until somewhere after nine that the phone rang and he answered without much of a thought.

“…professor? It’s Marie.”

The assistant? He perked up a bit. He hadn’t expected a phone call from her, truth be told. Cure was a pretty reliable materia and liquifying it hadn’t exactly been rocket science. Something no one else had yet managed to accomplish, but still a simple enough process.

“Ah…good evening, Fuzzy. Is everything alright?”

There was silence on the other line for a moment, and a little bit of rustling. He heard the jingle of keys.

“I’m coming back,” she told him, “there’s….there’s something you need to see.”

“Oh?”

“Sir I’m…glowing.”

She arrived within twenty minutes, and he found amusement in the way she barely scanned her badge in before she came bursting through the doors—the exact opposite of how she’d left. There was a smile on her face now, wonder in her eyes, and when she reached him, she took him by the hand, pulling him into his office and shutting the door behind them.

“Look,” she breathed, holding out her arm to him and grinning as she flicked off the light, exposing a hundred or so little aquamarine dots twinkling beneath her skin, dancing along the length of where the incision had been.

This was a surprise. It had…separated during the moments of curing, leaving behind traces of pure mako trapped beneath. It wasn’t much, probably not enough exposure to cause her too much long term harm, but he’d monitor her regardless. It would be interesting to see—the long term effects of constant minimal exposure.

“You really are a wonderful specimen,” he marveled, taking her arm and examining it in the darkness, how vividly the mako shone through, “my little shooting star.”

He couldn’t see it, but she smiled.

She didn’t realize, but he felt the way her heart quickened at the affectionate words.

[jemelle]

these are ties that bind (8/8)

fandom: criminal minds

rating: t

(chapter) word count: 1,465

story masterlist / all writing

you can also find this story on ao3!

summary: emily and hotch must pretend to be in a long-term relationship in order to foster carrie. shenanigans and serious conversations alike ensue. this chapter: two years later, a perfect summer evening.

a/n: when I started this fic in march, I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. eight months and 50(!) pages later, here we are, and it has been such a pleasure to get to tell this story. thank you so much to everyone who has given tattb a chance. i’m endlessly grateful for your likes, reblogs, and especially your kind words.

this final chapter is lovingly dedicated to my sibling for beta-ing, to @ssa-lesbian​ for being there since day 1, and to @robins-gf​ for endlessly hyping this fic <3

epilogue.

The string lights Emily had hung made the backyard look like something out of a fairytale. The guests mingled together, drinking homemade punch and eating food from the grill Aaron was carefully tending.

It was a warm evening in August, a few days before Carrie’s eighteenth birthday. The air was humid and the occasional mosquito buzzed around the edges of the party. From the kitchen window, Emily could see Penelope and Spencer swaying slightly to the music while JJ and Morgan fought over a football that had appeared seemingly out of thin air. Rossi sat in a deck chair, watching the proceedings with an amused look on his face, while Will sat beside him, cradling Henry in his arms. Even Jordan was here, making conversation with Aaron as he slid burgers into buns.

True to Emily’s prediction, Penelope had been the first to figure them out. She swore she’d never tell how she connected the dots, but Emily suspected that Penelope regularly checked in on all of them in less than legal ways. Once Penelope knew, their cover was all but blown, so Hotch had convened an all-team meeting to break the news.

He and Emily had told them the story straight, so to speak. The team understood that they weren’t really in love, but neither Emily nor Aaron felt that coming out was necessary for the story. Emily had come out the next year anyway, telling everyone as they sat around a crowded booth in the same bar where she had first told JJ. Aaron, for his part, he had reassured Emily that he was content with just being out to her.

Two years later, Emily thought that they were doing pretty well. Not every day was easy, of course. Sometimes Aaron snapped and Emily swore and Carrie sulked and Jack sobbed, but those days were few and far between. More often, there were sad days, because nothing would ever really heal what had happened to Carrie. On sad days Emily or Aaron begged off work, watching terrible movies with Carrie until she had cried herself out.

Every year, the three of them flew out to Denver to visit Carrie’s family. The old lady who ran the florist nearest to the cemetery knew when to expect them by now, and Emily’s perfunctory refusal to accept the flowers she insisted on providing free of charge had become something of a routine. Carrie liked to visit the cemetery alone, and she often sat there for hours, seemingly lost in thought. After she was finished, she and Emily and Aaron would go visit her old friends, the ones who had turned up for her when she had expected to be most alone.

There was always a little part of Emily that was scared Carrie would leave them. She would decide that Denver was still her real home, or that she wanted to live closer to her aunt and uncle in Phoenix. Emily had long since promised herself that she would support Carrie in whatever she wanted to do, but that wouldn’t lessen the sting. Nothing like that had ever come to pass, but in less than a month, Carrie would be heading off to college. 

Emily knew that Carrie’s parents had emphasized the importance of college, and that she had been fighting with them about it the night they had died. When she first came to live with them, Carrie had wanted to re-join all the activities her parents had encouraged. It had taken time and a lot of therapy, but eventually she had realized that straying from her parent’s wishes wasn’t a betrayal, not when what they had wanted most was for her and Danny to be happy. 

When the time came for Carrie to apply to college, Emily and Aaron made sure she understood that they would be proud of her no matter where she went. In the end, Carrie had chosen the University of Virginia, promising to make the two-hour journey home often. Still, it would be strange to not have her around every day. Emily had gotten used to her snark and sincerity, the way she cut right to the truth every time.

Tonight, Carrie was standing in a corner, Haley by her side, both of them watching over Jack. Emily and Haley would never be the best of friends, but they had long since formed a truce, recognizing that they both wanted the best for their strange little family. Haley loved Jack, that much was obvious, and she treated Carrie like the big sister Jack had never had. She was happy to take them both when cases ran long, though Emily secretly suspected that was because Carrie was able to calm down Jack better than anyone.

Leaving the house, Emily made her way over to the snack table, setting down the bowl of pretzels she had been carrying. When she looked up, Haley was motioning her over, gesturing at her empty cup and then Jack in turn. As Emily reached their corner of the yard, Haley headed off to refill her drink, leaving Emily and Carrie to monitor Jack.

Without warning, Emily was overcome by a wave of emotion. This life still felt like a dream sometimes. Past Emily would never have believed that this was where her life would end up. After Italy, she had been so angry, and after Declan, so resigned. In her lowest moments, she had told herself that she would never deserve a family. Emily knew now that she had been wrong, that she deserved to love and be loved. She also knew how exceptionally lucky she was to have found this family.

“I love you, you know that?” Emily said, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the party. If she looked at Carrie, there was a good chance she would cry. If anything could ruin the joyful mood of this evening, that would be it, even if the tears came only from a place of happiness.

“I know,” Carrie said, no trace of sarcasm in her voice. She took a slow sip out of the cup in her hand. In her periphery, Emily saw a single tear fall down Carrie’s cheek. “I know.”

When Haley came back, new drink in hand, neither Emily nor Carrie had looked at each other. She gave them a strange look before striking up a conversation with Carrie about what she wanted to study in college.

Emily bid them adieu and headed towards Aaron, the adoption papers burning a hole in her back pocket. They had applied for them months ago, but the envelope had only arrived a few days ago. Emily had snatched the letter from the mail as soon as it arrived, hiding it among her paperwork. The plan was to give them to Carrie on her birthday and let her make a decision about what she wanted. 

Unlike the thought of Carrie leaving, this decision didn’t feel Emily with dread. No matter what she chose, Carrie would always have them to come home to. 

She reached Aaron as he was finishing up making dinner, flipping the last of the burgers and sliding them into perfectly toasted buns. At his call, the guests flocked to the table, Spencer and Penelope almost tripping over each other in their haste to get food. After grabbing a plate, they dispersed once more, leaving only Emily and Aaron by the grill. 

A few months ago, JJ had asked Emily if she and Aaron would stay married after Carrie turned eighteen. Until JJ had asked, Emily hadn’t considered the possibility they wouldn’t, which she supposed was answer enough. That thought process would have been unthinkable two years ago, when begrudging respect was the only thing keeping them together.

They stood next to each other as they ate, watching the future they had built together. The lines around Aaron’s eyes were softer now than they had been two years ago, and he smiled more, though he was still tough-as-nails Hotch when he needed to be. At the end of a long day, or a tough case, the thing Emily looked forward to most was his companionship. He would sit with her at the kitchen table, or rope Carrie and Jack into a game of pictionary, somehow always anticipating what she needed. When she woke up thrashing, he was there, and when he couldn’t sleep, she sat up with him until his breathing evened.

Emily finished eating, setting her plate on the table behind her and wiping her hands on a paper napkin. Aaron mimicked her, then refilled his cup from the nearby punchbowl.

As he turned to her, Emily raised her own cup, bumping it against Aaron’s before taking a drink, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “So,” she said. “How about that divorce?”

tags: @robins-gf, @catgrantknows, @lizziechase, @blakes-dictionxry

[thorne93]

The Softest Fire (Part 3)

Prompt: Rosaline Vaughan had it all: fame, money, power, glory, a high status job. Until, one day, she woke up, and realized something was missing from her life.

Word Count: 2091

Warnings: dealing with animals(??), language

Notes: First Fantastic Beast fic! I could NOT have done this at all without @arrow-guy​​​. They have created a counterpart to this fic, writing it from Nora Vaughan’s perspective (Rosaline’s cousin/adopted sister). Fic aesthetic done by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​.

1921, that’s when I began my journey with Newt. Now it was 1925 and Newt had declared that he would be traveling alone for a year. Together, we’d amassed far too many creatures to keep safely together in the suitcase. They needed proper room to run and proper room for me to treat them. That’s when we expounded on his basement, creating small worlds, environments for the creatures to inhabit, at least until they were ready to be freed. 

Newt said he would take Frank to Arizona during one leg of his trip, making me ecstatic. I would be heartbroken, and miss him dearly, but ultimately, he deserved to be free and happy in the wild.

While he would be gone, it would be up to me to care and feed for the animals. Being that it was a full time job, Newt stated I would be allowed to stay at his flat, in case anything went wrong, I would be right there to tend to them. 

Before he shipped out though, we had four amazing years together. Oftentimes, I’d be at his home already tending to the creatures in the basement, feeding, washing, healing. He would be working upstairs, working on the book, or out at the library gathering information, or up at Diagon Alley purchasing books or things for travel. If I knew he was on his way home, I’d run up and make a quick meal or snack for him. Something he never asked for, in fact, he had no clue what it was the first time… 

“Rosaline!” he called downstairs.

“Yes?”

“Did you make something to eat?” he questioned, confused.

I jogged up the stairs, wearing trousers, of all things. I still felt foreign in these darn things but, Newt had insisted I wear something more proper to chase down critters in the wild. “What? Oh, yes, I did. Not for me though, for you,” I explained, gesturing to his small table. “Is that alright? It should still be warm,” I noted, rushing towards the plate and removing the aluminum foil. 

“No, no that’s fine. I just… didn’t know. This is… great. Thank you, I haven’t eaten all day.” He sat down, pulling up to the table and tucking a napkin in his collar. “Well, wait, what about you? Have you eaten?”

I waved him off. “No, no, but I’m fine.”

“What? Nonsense. It’s eight o’clock at night, and you haven’t eaten. Come, sit with me,” he encouraged, pushing a chair out next to him. 

“No that’s your dinner. That’s fine. I’ll be okay. Thank you though. I’ll go take care of the firedrake.” 

“Rosaline, don’t make me pull rank,” he slightly teased. “Please, some company would be nice.” 

I smiled gently at his kind request and finally acquiesced and sat beside him, grabbing a fork. “Alright, but only because you begged, remember that,” I joked. 

That night was a rather good indicator of how our nights went. I made him a small dinner or snack if he was out late, and he’d return to happily feast on it. Sometimes I joined him, sometimes I went home to my own flat, other times, he did the same. I would arrive in the morning and he already had coffee waiting for me on the table, made just the way I like. 

Life for us felt right this way. Taking care of each other, and the creatures. I hardly ever really missed the Ministry. On rough days with a wild animal, or days that we ran into trouble from other wizards, I longed to be back at my simple job, for a split second, but ultimately, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

Nora and Theseus popped in and out on the regular. Nora would come down and help me with feeding if I had a little too much on my plate or needed to take a second to tend to Newt’s dinner. Theseus and I sometimes shared a cup of tea, waiting for his brother to return home. In this time, I got to know him well, much better than at the Ministry. 

Learning how different the two brothers were was highly amusing to me. Newt was so much like Nora. Always up for adventure, never one to let anyone tell them what to do, never afraid to back down from a fight. They’ve always been brave, incredibly knowledgeable, always on a new book each week. Nora and Newt were both eclectic, going against the grain.

Theseus and myself seemed to share an interest in politics, current events, studying magic to its fullest extent, following rules, playing by the rulebook. Both of us calm, soft spoken, traditional. 

Today marked the day that Newt would set off for his voyage. One year, around the globe, without me. I was sad that I wouldn’t get to help him in his adventures, but we both knew and agreed I really needed to hold the fort down here. Nora promised to stop by at least twice a week to make sure the Kelpie we rescued hadn’t drowned me. Not that he would, he was a gentle giant, but anything could happen with these beasts. 

He was all packed and ready to go.

“Okay and you know the augurey has a wound on its head--”

“Yes,” I assured as Newt was backing towards the door with his suitcase. 

“And the thestral needs to be cleaned.”

I nodded. “Yes, I know. Every Friday.” 

“Yes and--”

“Newt!” I stopped him, soft pleading in my voice. “I can handle this, alright? I’ve spent the last few years with you, day in and day out with these animals. I think I know my way around. Everything will be fine, I promise.” 

He made an apologetic face and bobbed his head. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry I just--”

I nodded, quietly responding, “I know. It’s fine.”

A small smile came onto his face. 

“You better go before you miss the boat…”

“Right… Well… I’ll be off then…” 

The two of us stood there awkwardly for a moment. Newt went for a handshake, but I leaned in for a hug. Then we switched, pulling his hand back to go for a hug but I suddenly shot my hand out. The two of us were blushing messes by now. Typically, we only waved to each other at the end of a day or bid each other good night. But this was different… He would be gone for a year and I had no idea what dangers or issues he may face. He was a brilliant wizard of course, but it was in my nature to protect and lead. 

“Hug?” I questioned finally, wanting to be past this.

“Yes,” he agreed, laughing before we finally embraced properly for a few seconds. 

“Alright, better catch your boat now…” 

“Right… I’ll write you.”

“Yes, of course.” I nodded and he was finally out the door, on his way, taking with him my usual warmth and happiness. I heaved a sigh and turned around to head down to the basement for the morning feedings.

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

“He’s been gone five months, Nora,” I complained as I sat down one of the bowls on the table. She’d dropped by for lunch and I had been feeling pretty down lately and as soon as I saw her, for some odd reason, the floodgates that were my mouth opened. 

“Yes? Well he is on a year long journey, Rosaline, you know this.”

“I know, I know. But I haven’t heard from him in three weeks either,” I fretted before checking the gravy and then adding it to the table. 

“He might not have time. He is busy. He’s working. He may also be writing you when he gets the chance. Maybe mail is slow.”

I shot her a stern glance at her excuses. “Never this slow. Is he okay?” 

“Yes, of course, it’s Newt. He’s perfectly capable. Why are you so distressed?” she questioned, peering up at me before taking a sip of her tea. 

I sat across from her, now that lunch was fully prepared. “I--I don’t know. I just… Ever since he’s been gone I’ve been a ball of nerves, worrying. That’s just not like me…” 

"When did this worrying start?"

"The moment he left," I said, pulling my brows together.

"And how do you feel when he writes you?"

"Um, elated I suppose. I'm beyond happy to know he's okay and that he's doing what he loves and getting to gather more information for his book.... Why would I be anything but happy and excited?"

"Had you been working for, say... I don't know, Theseus. Would you have the same reaction? Would you still be just as excited to get his letters ?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, no... No... Theseus is fine and all but he and I aren't close like Newt and I are."

She let a chuckle escape her lips. "Sounds to me as if you've caught a love bug, sweetheart."

I gasped, shocked. "Newt? Newton Scamander? No... Haha.... No. That's ridiculous. He's my boss, Nora!"

"You've spent practically every day of your life over the past five years with him, watching him treat those animals like his children. He's gentle and kind. I can't blame you for falling for him."

"Nora, this is preposterous. You and I both know men have never, ever been on my list of things to concern myself with. Why, out of all people, would I be falling for Newt Scamander?"

"Just because it's never been at the top of your list of concerns doesn't mean you weren't falling for him. You find what you want or need most when you're not looking, Rosaline."

"You're a sap."

"And you're oblivious."

"Nora, please. Can you honestly see me loving him? You were his assistant before I was, does that mean you're in love with him?" I accused, pointing at her.

"Can't say it does. Mind you, he's nearly eight years younger than me, and I never spent as much time with him as you did." She raised her eyebrows at me. "And if I'm remembering correctly, you had a soft spot for him while you were in school."

I screwed my mouth to the side, becoming defensive. "That was merely a reaction to the injustice that occurred with Leta Lestrange. If it were anyone else I would've done the same thing. He was an excellent student and classmate. He never caused any issues. He's sweet....”"

She leaned forward, a mischievous look on her face. "He's sweet, and...?"

"And what?" I snapped playfully, getting up to refill her tea and do anything to avoid addressing this.

"You're arse over tits for him, dear cousin. No shame in it!"

I nearly dropped the teapot I was holding at her words. "Eleanore Vaughan!" I gasped.

She cackled, throwing her head back. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. You know your secret is safe with me."

"You think just because I miss my boss and I eagerly await his return, and I can't help but think of him all the time, and yes he may possess all the qualities of a husband, if I ever desired one, and he's funny and kind and talented -- " I stopped and glared at her.

Grinning and wiggling her eyebrows at me, she leaned back in her seat. "Need I say more?"

"Okay... Then what do I do with this information?" I questioned uneasily sitting down. "I've never... you know... "

"If you want to tell him, do it. If you don't, I'll support you either way."

I stared at her, my mouth open. "That's it? That's your grand advice? Where is your gusto when I need it?"

"You think I have any kind of experience here that I can apply? My longest relationship has been with the kneazle that wandered into my shop one day and didn't leave."

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. "Yes but... how do I even go about this? I can't just blurt out my feelings, can I? Isn't that a little... faux pas?"

"How would you normally bring up something important with him?"

"Approach him in between tending to the animals. Just... say 'Newt, I need to discuss something with you'."

"Then do that. If it doesn't work out, then wait till the time feels right and tell him."

"You make it sound easy," I muttered.

"But I never said it would be."

I sighed. "I suppose I have news then, when he returns home."

She grinned. "Perhaps you do."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

Forever Tag:

@essie1876​​​

@magpiegirl80​​​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please​​​

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification​​​

@thejemersoninferno​​​

@rda1989​​​

@munlis​​​

@thefridgeismybestie​​​

@bubblyanarocks3​​​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​​​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​​​

@feelmyroarrrr​​​​

@kaeling​​

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​​

@damalseer​​​

@heyitscam99​​​

@yknott81​​​

@sorryimacrapwriter​​​

@glitterquadricorn​​​

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm​​​

@alyssaj23​​​

@sea040561​​​

@princess76179​​​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​​​

@sarahp879​​​

@malfoysqueen14​​​

@ellallheart​​​

@breezy1415​​​

@marvelmayo​​​

@lyniboy​​​

@paintballkid711​​​

[willows-adventures-in-words]

This is the last chapter I have finished. I’m a little over a thousand words on chapter 12 but I haven’t touched it in months because I’m stuck and can’t seem to figure out how push past the problem.

Life is Never what you Expect Chapter 11 Word Count: 3973

________________________

It was late. Jackie had been lounging on his bed for the past few hours scrolling through his phone and watching videos. He took note of the time. 1:12. Maybe if he's quiet he wouldn't wake anyone by getting up and going to the bathroom. He could probably get something to drink while he's up. As quietly as he could he got up and left his room. He paused just before he turned around the corner. Was... was someone awake? Who would be awake? Cautiously he slowly made his way towards the living room. Once he got close enough he peered in the room.

Someone was sitting on the couch facing the TV playing the Last of Us. Who would... Jackie felt a certain level of discomfort as he remembered Anti was playing it earlier that day. He stood there, in the entryway, looking in the room. It looked like he was near the end of the game. The two characters were caught underwater. Jackie struggled trying to decide what to do. The cutscenes played and the last section of the game started and Anti went in guns blazing. A tactic that didn't work. Taking a breath, and doing his best to push aside his discomfort, Jackie stepped forward. “Dude, try using stealth.”

Anti jerked his attention over to Jackie. When had he? He didn't even hear him come in the room. “...Nice job getting me killed,” he grumbled as he turned his attention back to the game.

Jackie stopped behind the two-seater. “You died before I even said anything.”

It was quiet for a moment as Anti tried his tactic again. He took a second to glance over to the man in the room. “Why are you up?”

With a glance over to Anti, Jackie stated, “Have to use the bathroom,” as he motioned towards the one next to the laundry room.

“Then use the bathroom,” Anti grumbled as he died again.

There was a pause; a moment of silence. Then Jackie left the room to do what he got up for. He stopped off in the kitchen afterwards and quietly got a glass of water. The kitchen was clean with dishes drying in the rack. It was quiet in the living room. Stepping back in the room he looked back to the TV. Anti seemed to be taking his advice. Though he got close to death, he made it through the first part. Jackie glanced over at Anti before taking a step closer, eventually sitting down on the two-seater.

Though he kept his guard up, Jackie stayed and watched him play as he drank his water. “You didn't have to kill all three of them,” Jackie told him, but Anti just shrugged it off and didn't really respond. He was almost done; he just had to escape. Neither one of them spoke as the game was finished. Finally, as the credits rolled, Jackie spoke up, a bit cautious at first. “When the game first came out, there was a debate about whether what he did at the end was the right thing or not. If they would have done the same thing.” He was a bit wary as he waited for the response.

The response didn't come right away. But when it did, Jackie couldn't help be a little surprised. “Yes.” It was said quietly. There was a pause before he continued. “If I knew, and cared that much. Then yes.” Then, after a brief moment, he got up saying, “It's better to keep a hold of what's important before you lose it for good.”

Jackie stared at him for a moment. “Did you lose someone important?”

“That's none of your damn business.” His words were harsh but only a hint of it was found in his tone.

If he wasn't holding onto a glass Jackie would have raised his hands in a defensive manner. Instead he just leaned back a bit more in his seat and said, “Right, sorry.” Though the defensiveness of Anti's statement said more than an actual answer.

There was a moment when they both just looked at each other. It wasn't entirely awkward and not overly uncomfortable to Jackie, but that feeling of deja vu was evident. Anti turned away and shut off the game then left the room. Jackie blinked and looked back when he heard Anti putting away the dishes. He couldn't figure it out. Jackie was sure they'd never met before so why did he feel like they did? Slowly, he got to his feet. Instead of taking his glass to the kitchen, he just took it with him back to his room. Closing his room door, he tried to shrug the feeling off as he set his glass on the end-table and crawled into bed. It didn't work very well and it ended up taking him awhile to get to sleep.

Anti listened for Jackie to leave and go back to his room. Once he heard the door close, Anti let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “... What the fuck was that?” he murmured. That feeling of familiarity. He'd never felt that before. Even when he'd run into other vampires. There was something different about Jackie, he already knew that, but... Whatever it was he couldn't place it. Couldn't figure out why he had that vague feeling that they've met before.

After being lost in his thoughts, Anti finished putting the dishes back where they belonged. He made sure everything was turned off before he headed upstairs.

Morning came and Henrik was the first one awake. He had the day off and somehow managed to sleep in, but only by a half hour. After stopping at the bathroom he headed to the kitchen. Turning on the light he started to prep the coffee pot. He still felt a little tired, probably due to going to bed later than usual, but he'd be fine after he had a cup of coffee or two.

The debate Jameson started about the movie ended when Chase had come back from checking on Jackie. At that point the group started to discuss what to do about him. Henrik had obviously noticed it too. They all had. And Jameson, much to Marvin's disagreement, had stated that Marvin needed time to relax and have fun too. So, after longer than necessary, a plan had been made. Since none of them had anywhere to be today, the household would spend the day out. The most voted option was bowling, though Chase said he wanted an arcade. Henrik was pretty sure he remembered there being a bowling alley with an arcade somewhat close by. It's been awhile since he'd been there though. Maybe he should look it up to see if it was still open...

Once his coffee was done he took his cup to the table and sat down. After giving himself some time to wake up and enjoy his coffee, Henrik got up to grab his phone. It was quarter to eight, he noticed as he unlocked his phone. He wondered what time he should start breakfast as he sat back down and searched the internet on his phone to find the bowling alley. Twenty minutes away. A little farther then he thought but it was the same one he had been thinking of so that was good at least.

There was movement in the house and Henrik turned in time to see Marvin step into view. Marvin offered a smile. “Hey, good morning...”

Henrik moved to get up. “Good morning.” Setting his phone down, he picked up his cup and went to refill it. He got to the coffee pot before Marvin and offered to fill his cup after filling his own. It took Marvin a moment before it fully registered and he thanked him then took his cup over to the fridge to add some creamer. Henrik could see the tiredness in him. Turning back to his phone Henrik let the silence between them settle.

After a bit of time past, Marvin spoke up. “How did you sleep?”

“Hm?” Marvin, with a gentle smile, repeated himself. “I slept well. Slept in a bit.” He set his phone aside. “How about you? You seem more awake than you did ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah...” Marvin trailed off for a second. “No, I... didn't really sleep well.”

“Oh? Do you know why?”

Marvin remained quiet for a moment as he recalled where his thoughts had gone when he tried to sleep last night. He shook his head. “No,” he lied. Then quickly changed the subject. “But I should be fine when it's time to start breakfast.”

There was a minute of silence between them as Henrik mulled over a thought he had earlier. Finally he voiced his idea. “Don't worry about breakfast.” Marvin looked up at him confused. “I will take care of it today.”

“Henrik-”

“No. You get to have the day off today.” Marvin looked a bit conflicted before he inevitably relented. Henrik couldn't help the smile that crept up as he asked, “So then, what would you like for breakfast?”

Marvin let out a breathe that did nothing to hide the amused chuckle. He supposed he could let him have this. “...Well,” he started after putting a bit of thought to the question. “I suppose I haven't had an omelet in awhile.”

Setting his cup down, and after swallowing his coffee, Henrik asked, “When was the last time you made them?”

“Not for awhile,” he told him. “It's not really a favorite breakfast choice.”

Henrik fell quiet for a moment. When exactly had it changed? Sure, having Marvin cook for them was one of the main reasons he moved in, but... When had it gotten to the point that it didn't matter as much what he cooked as long as it was something the others liked? “Okay then,” Henrik started as he got up out of his seat. “What would you like in your omelet?”

“Um... surprise me?” He glanced over at Marvin before opening the fridge. As Henrik started to cut and prep the ingredients, Marvin excused himself to go take a shower and get dressed for the day.

When Jackie heard the shower running he got up out of bed. Pulling on the pair of pajama pants that was discarded at the end of his bed, he straightened the tank-top he was wearing before heading out of the room. Jackie was surprised to see it was Henrik in the kitchen instead of Marvin. He paused, ignoring his need to use the bathroom, and asked, “You're making breakfast today?”

Henrik looked over at him. “Yes, today I will be doing the cooking.”

“Oh. Okay.” Henrik was about to ask if he wanted to eat already when Jackie turned and headed to the bathroom next to their laundry room. Once finished, Jackie reentered the kitchen and collected a cup from the cabinet. After he finished pouring some coffee he asked, “Is something up with Marvin? I mean, it's not very often he's not in his natural habitat.” Though it was a joke he was still concerned.

“I gave him the day off today,” he told the younger man as he turned to make some toast.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Jackie stated as he opened the fridge to check their collection of creamers. He lightly shook the bottom of one of the containers to confirm that it was almost empty. With a slight shrug he removed it from the fridge and shut the door. First come first serve. “I think he needs one after yesterday...”

With a hint of confusion, Henrik questioned, “What happened yesterday?”

Jackie paused. “Well uh...” He forgot Henrik wasn't there when it happened. He finished mixing in the creamer as he continued. “He took our teasing a little personal I think.” They heard the water shutting off in the bathroom. Jackie looked to Henrik and opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. Then not even a minute later he asked, “Hey, can you heat some water? I wanna talk to Jameson but I need a peace-offering in case I wake him up.” Henrik, in response, handed him the water kettle. Jackie paused after accepting it then muttered a thanks before he started to make some tea.

Marvin came back in the kitchen just as Jackie was about to leave. Jackie cheerfully greeted him as he left carrying his cup of coffee and a cup of tea. “Where are you heading?”

“I'm going up to see Jameson,” he told him. Marvin watched him walk off for a moment before turning to the sound of Henrik setting a plate down on the table. His breakfast was served it seemed.

Carefully, he held onto both cups in one hand as he knocked lightly on the door. “Jameson?” Jackie knocked once more when he didn't really hear an answer. Slowly, he cracked open the door. Light shown in through the exposed windows. Jameson turned and lifted his head to look at Jackie with tired eyes. “Hey, Jays.” The man grumbled something incoherent before laying his head back down and curling his legs in a little. “I'm sorry. I really thought you might be up writing...” He paused for a moment before taking a couple steps in the room. “Um, I brought you some tea?”

There was a minute of silence and Jackie was about to just set the cup down on his small end table when Jameson moved to sit up. Jameson attempted a smile as he accepted the cup Jackie held out to him. Jackie asked him if he wanted him to leave, though Jameson told him, “No, it's fine...” The tiredness was very much noticeable in his voice.

Leaning against the dresser, Jackie asked, “Did you have a late night? I mean, like I said earlier, you're usually up already.”

After testing the temperature of the tea, Jameson spoke up. “... Mm, yes, I had a burst of inspiration.” He covered his mouth as he let out a yawn. A minute past in silence. Jameson looked up at Jackie and asked, “Did you need something?”

“Uh... no. Not really.” He paused for a moment as Jameson checked the temperature of his drink again. “You cool with company though?”

He set the cup down on the little table by his bed and went to get up. “I don't mind. But I do need to use the restroom.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I'll chill here till you get back,” Jackie stated as he sat down in the chair by the mans desk. With that Jameson left the room. Taking a drink from his coffee, Jackie looked around the room. It isn't very often he came to Jameson's room; though nothing really changed since last time. Shifting in his seat, Jackie was disappointed that the chair didn't swivel with his movement. Looking up at Jameson as he reentered the room he asked, “Why don't you have a swivel chair?”

“Because I don't need a chair that swivels.” Jackie wasn't going to deny that he was a little disappointed.

Jameson settled himself back down on his bed and picked up his cup. “How is your schooling? You have exams this week, isn't that right?”

“Yeah. After the exams I'm done and graduating.”

“Oh that's exciting. Are there plans afterwords? Perhaps a party?” Jameson took a drink from his tea, glad it has cooled enough to drink.

“Uh... not really?” Jackie paused for a moment. “I don't think my family is big on parties. So, I'm probably not gonna have one.” Then his demeanor shifted to one more cheerful. “But if you guys want to hang out afterwards that would be fun. I mean, not party level of fun, but come on. I can't remember when the last time all of us did something. And movie night doesn't count.”

Jameson smiled. “Well, I am sure we could plan something.”

Jackie's happiness was easily noticeable. And only dimmed slightly when he stated, “It'll be hard to get Henrik to take a day off though.” He paused slightly. “Oh yeah! He gave Marvin the day off today. Henrik is actually cooking.”

“My goodness that has been awhile.”

“Yeah. I think I've only seen him do that like, ten times since I've moved in.”

Amusement shown in Jameson's eyes. “Do you suppose he still knows how?”

Jackie laughed. It caught him off guard. He hadn't expected to hear him say that. Though he had heard sass from him when they played games but if it was about someone else that person would always be there. He would have to hang out with him more often.

They talked for a bit longer as they drank their drinks. “Well,” Jameson started as he got up. “I think I will get dressed for the day.”

“Oh, yeah sure.” Jackie got up as well. “I'll see you down in a few then.” He offered to take the other man's cup.  Jameson gave him a smile and handed it to him before he collected a change of clothes. He left his room to wash up and change out of his pajamas and into the clothes for the day.

Chase was digging in the fridge when Jackie came back downstairs. He stuck his head over the door to the fridge. “Hey, did someone drink the last of the french toast creamer?”

“Sorry, dude.” Chase looked over to Jackie to see him tilt his empty cup sideways. “First come first serve.”

“Seriously? That one was mine.”

“Whoops. Did I miss your name on the bottle?” Jackie antagonized.

Chase scoffed and choose a different bottle. “You're about to lose your no-name-on-the-package candy if you don't watch it,” he grumbled.

“You better not.” Henrik sighed. There they go again. Though, in a way, it was a good sign. Since they didn't generally bicker like this unless, underneath all the bluster, they were in good moods. He knew this, but despite that it sure was exhausting. Marvin, however, was enjoying himself as he watched the two.

Since everyone was awake now, it would be a good enough time. Henrik got up from his seat at the table and went to the fridge. Once Chase realized that Henrik was going to cook breakfast he asked, “Marvin's not cooking?”

“Nope. Marvin's got the day off.” It was Jackie that spoke.

Chase glanced at Marvin, who nodded in agreement, before turning to Henrik. “Can I help?”

“What would you like to make?” Henrik asked him.

The question wasn't what Chase expected. “Uh... I don't know? I figured I'd just help with whatever you were making.”

“Then could you get the bacon from the fridge?”

With a 'sure', Chase opened the fridge. As he was pulling a couple packs of bacon out of the fridge he paused. “Hey. What about BLT's?” He looked back to see Henrik had already cracked some eggs.

“I want BLT's!” Jackie called over from his seat at the table.

“Alright. You can focus on making the BLT's then.” Chase removed the ingredients for making BLT's while Henrik focused on his own version of breakfast.

Not too long after the two got started cooking Jameson came downstairs. “Ah, so Henrik is indeed making breakfast.” Henrik glanced back at him and, with a smile, Jameson asked, “Shall I be difficult and request how I would like my eggs?”

“You might as well. Those two have already made it difficult,” Henrik stated as he motioned mostly to Chase while the other man was busy cutting tomatoes in strips.

“Well then, I would like them over-easy.”

Marvin joined the conversation. “Should I make those more often?”

“No, no. It was a jest.”

“Joke or not, now you're getting over-easy,” Henrik stated.

There was such an easy-going atmosphere as they joked around while Henrik and Chase made different variations of breakfast. That is until Anti came downstairs. Jackie and Anti's eyes met for just a moment before Marvin spoke pulling Anti's attention away. “Anti, how did you sleep?”

“Fine,” Anti stated simply.

Jackie went back to putting together his BLT but his thoughts wondered. Why was he still making this awkward? After last night he should know that Anti went through some stuff. Lost people just like he has. He's just a little reclusive. It's just... there was a lingering feeling of uncertainty that he just couldn't get rid of. That part of him didn't want to get rid of.

It wasn't long before the six of them were seated with some form of breakfast and drink. While they ate there was a small amount of conversation at first. Though near the end of the meal, the question was asked. “Anyone have plans today?”

“I was thinking of going out today,” Chase spoke up.

“Yeah? More job and apartment searching?” Jackie asked, eager to join him if that was the case.

“I don't know? Just feel like going out since it's going to be nice out.” Chase looked between them. “Does anyone want to come?”

Both Jackie and Marvin were quick to say they would. Though Jameson seemed to hesitate slightly. “Come on Jays, come with us.”

“After last night I should try to write. I don't want to lose my thoughts on the scene.”

“Bring it with you,” Jackie quickly told him. “Come on please.” Jameson finally relented, but also agreed with bringing his writing. Just in case.

Henrik felt eyes on him. He shook his head. “Sorry, I have an errand to run today.”

Jackie's shoulders sagged. He looked to Anti and for a moment looked like he was going to ask him, only to change his mind in the end. Their eyes met again in that moment. “I'm not going.” Anti turned his eyes to Jameson as he continued, “And don't feel bad. I'll enjoy having a quiet house again.”

There was silence after Anti spoke though it didn't last long. “Well... I guess it's decided then.” It was Marvin who said this. Despite that the plan was for Jackie to relax and have fun with the rest of them, except Anti, Marvin still felt bad that the man was getting left out. Even if Anti was being honest and really didn't mind.

“Yeah. So... we can go for lunch then find stuff to do?” Chase asked.

“Sounds good,” Marvin spoke. Jackie also voiced his agreement to the suggestion.

Jameson smiled. He knew the plan. He should since he was the first to bring up the suggestion last night. Though, of course, he had to act like there was no plan. Sadly, his natural choice was to stay in in favor of writing and letting the three hang out together. He was only vaguely aware of this character flaw, but aware of it nonetheless. Jameson looked to Henrik, who hid his smile well, and wondered what his plan was. Was his errand legit or did he need an excuse that fit him? He supposed it didn't matter. As long as they all met at their chosen location, whether separately or together, then everything would be fine.

[theangriestpea]

In the Shadows : Twelve

Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC

Warnings:  Very minor character death, kidnapping??, mentions of forced prostitution/sex slavery

Word Count: 5k+

A/N:  This took SO LONG for me to write. i was just very stuck for the longest time. But now I think I've got some good ideas for the future of this fic! I will likely be updating this series once a month from here on out as I am going back to work and will not have as much time to write. Apologies for that in advance! I wrote so much during the last three months though that the break will be a little nice.

Chapter Twelve : The Descent

“I’m not going to let it happen, Shanna.” Sweet Pea said as him and his soulmate argued for the dozenth time. Lavender was convinced that he’d keep his loyalty with his coven and not with her. That he’d willingly give up their child to honor the deal that Lily had made.

Sweet Pea had no intention of doing anything of the sort. While, yes, he had once aligned himself fiercely with Lily and that witches were more powerful together, she had spurned him too greatly this time. He loved Daisy with every fiber of his being and he fully intended on loving his second daughter with the exact same ferocity. As of now there was no one who he was more devoted to than the hybrid, but he was getting increasingly aggravated by her insinuation that he wasn’t.

Lavender was quiet, hand on her stomach as she continued to fear the worse. She trusted Sweet Pea, of course she did, however there was just this nagging feeling in the back of her mind that he was going to betray her. That she needed to get out while she could. That keeping herself rooted in Riverdale was a grave mistake especially now that The Red Circle had put a target on her back.

Feeding was becoming more and more dangerous. While she could disguise her identity with ease, disposing of bodies without the help of the Jones pack was becoming difficult. Before she never spent enough time in one place to really bother with the cover-up. She hadn’t realized when she decided to stay that life would keep throwing curve-balls. Her only saving grace was that Riverdale was the murder capital of the world. People died all the time under suspicious circumstances. Unfortunately the supernatural were the ones always blamed for the inexplicable deaths.

The more she showed, the more difficult it would be. She could only alter herself, she couldn’t alter the child within her. Whatever form she took would be showing just as much as she was, and while at eight weeks that wasn’t much it wouldn’t stay that way for much longer.

Sweet Pea parted the blinds with his fingers to peer outside. He had been expecting Lily and Jughead to show up all day. That night there would be a full moon. In order to keep the pack safe, they would need both Sweet Pea and Lavender to cast a spell strong enough to cover the entire. Lily was stronger now, sure, but not strong enough yet to do it all on her own.

Lavender was not on the side of helping. She thought the forest should just burn. Along with everyone else inside of it. Sweet Pea, on the other hand, feared for the safety of his first born. While he knew that Lily would protect her with her life, he still didn’t like the idea of her life being in danger in the first place.

And though Lavender adored Daisy and didn’t want any harm to come to her, she was fiercely upset with Lily too much at the moment to even want to see her face. Sweet Pea was missing his daughter more now than ever. He hadn’t seen her since the pact because Lily had taken her and they currently weren’t on speaking terms. He knew he’d have to break down eventually and call her or else risk ruining the relationship he had with Daisy.

“She threw our child away, Pea, why do we need to help her protect the forest?” Lavender asked, becoming increasingly frustrated with him. “I just don’t understand why you still want to cater to someone who was going to just give away your child.”

“It’s deeper than that, and you know it.” Sweet Pea said, his own aggravation starting to show. “They’ll come here too. They may take you next time instead of Lily.”

The demoness frowned. “You know that Myra would not let any harm come with this child. Not when she is so important to her.” Lav responded. “If they did take me, then they wouldn’t kill me. They’d let me live out the rest of my pregnancy at least.”

“And then what?” He snapped back, “They take her and kill you when you’re weak from giving birth? Then I lose both of you.” He wish she could understand how her carelessness was hurting him just as much as Lily’s stupid pact did.

Lav was quiet. She hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. Him being right for once did not make her feel any better about what he was asking of her. “Then we run away. We go somewhere else entirely.”

“And leave Daisy?” Sweet Pea asked, his tone turning harsh. “I’m not going to do that, she’s my daughter.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, clearly nothing she was going to come up with was going to satisfy him. The only path he saw was helping Lily which Lavender absolutely was not going to do. “Then you help her, Sweet Pea. You two can do it by yourselves. I need to go feed anyway.” She got up and went into their bedroom to get ready to go out as the witch fumed with fury in the living room still. He grabbed his keys and went to take his bike to the cottage.

When he arrived at his old home, he noticed the wind seemed to be picking up already. He figured Lily was working on conjuring another storm. Rain allowed for the hardiest of protection spells. It was easier to transmute magic through water rather than through air. The polar properties made it the best particularly for barrier spells. It would rain again tonight, he was sure of it.

He didn’t knock, just entered through the door and slammed it behind him. “Daddy!” He heard his little girl squeal as she ran to greet him, clinging to his leg tightly. He couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his features as he bent down to pick her up.

Jughead approached him cautiously. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.” He murmured, not wanting to feel the witch’s wrath. It was harder to contain his own visceral emotions so close to the full moon. “She’s already set up.”

Sweet Pea nodded his head silently as he walked into the living room. He saw there were places set for three. “She’s not coming.” He said as Daisy babbled on in his arms in some unknown language.

A hurt look crossed Lily’s face. She had hoped to try and patch things up with her friend, maybe make some kind of peace offering. However, she should have known better. If someone had bartered with Daisy, then she’d be on a warpath too. What she did was unfair, but she had been backed into a corner. What was she supposed to do? Really?

“I’m sorry,” She said softly, not sure what else to really say. Her best friend wouldn’t even look at her. He simply stared at the middle of the sigil on the floor. Sweet Pea knew he’d have to forgive her eventually, for Daisy’s sake, but right now he just wasn’t ready to take that step.

“I know.” Was all he said back, unable to articulate through his anger towards not only Lily but also towards Lavender. She was acting so selfishly but he could not get through to her no matter what. She was hell bent on doing things her own way, including how she gathered souls. He found spell work he could do to make something close to what Myra had made. It wouldn’t be as powerful and he wouldn’t use innocent souls, but it would be better than her risking her life going out every night.

She couldn’t give up the hunt. Not yet, it seemed. She was determined to do it without help, saying that it would be a waste of his magic. That he needed to reserve it in case of an attack. His reserves were filled to the brim now that they were together, now that their souls were together. He didn’t need to save anything when all he needed to refill them was to fuck her.

But she insisted over and over that Myra wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That Myra would protect her. That she didn’t have to worry. But where the hell was Myra when she was stabbed? When she almost died before Lily could save her? If she was so great, then why did they bother releasing her soul in the first place?!

Sweet Pea set Daisy down as he got into place, taking a seat on a small cushion. It was going to be a long night.

Lavender was on the Northside, looking like a pretty little redhead with nowhere to go. She walked into a bar and ordered a virgin drink, something that looked as though it could pass for alcoholic. The hungrier she was, the less control she had over her influence. The bar seemed to be flooded with men. Men that all seemed to want a piece of her .

They offered to buy her drinks, offered phone numbers and pick-up lines. However, none seemed to quite suit her fancy. At least, no single one. She needed more tonight. One soul just simply wouldn’t do. She was growing a child, after all.

She settled on two men that were somehow linked with The Red Circle. One would only call himself Moose and the other was a rather smooth talking fuck-boy named Chuck. While neither were really her type, jocks, she figured that beggars simply couldn’t be choosers.

They took her to a nearby pay-per-hour motel where Chuck graciously paid for a room. For once in her life, Lavender had no desire to have sex. Whether it was from the sadness of losing her friend or the intense love she felt for Sweet Pea, she wasn’t sure. The only thing that kept pressing her forward was the simple demonic drive to feed. Maybe she should have let Sweet Pea try that spell after all...Maybe she could be at home with a cup of tea in bed instead of in this bug infested room.

But the stars and moon were just right tonight, Lav could feel it perfectly in her soul. She wouldn’t need to bed these two. She could force out their souls through sheer will, and while that wasn’t nearly as fun it was just as effective.

Lavender smiled at the two, grabbing each by the wrist before letting her eyes fade to black. They two instantly attempted to pull from her, but were unable to break free from her grip. Lavender reached out with her energy and forcibly yanked their souls away from their mortal tether, taking them into herself through their skin-to-skin contact.

While the two did not die from the soul removal, they did fall unconscious from the force of it. Lavender pondered whether or not to kill them. True, they were outlying members of The Red Circle, however they were in no positions of power. Though, she figured two less meatheads to carry torches and pitchforks would be better overall.

She slipped a pocket knife out from the inside of her purse and slid it open. In a quick, sweeping motion, she slit the throats of both men before painting a message on the nicotine stained wall. If Archie Andrews wanted a war. Then he’d have a war.

As she left the motel, having carefully cleaned her hands of blood, she noticed that the air seemed...different. There was a kind of static electricity about it that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. True, she knew the witches would conjure a storm to protect the southside with, however she was north of the tracks. It shouldn’t be able to reach this far. There would be no reason for her to sense magical energy on the Northside. Not when magic was strictly prohibited here.

She knew she needed to get home fast. While she had taken a new face, somehow Archie had seen through her last time. If she ran into him then he may be able to do it again. While she was sure Myra would somehow keep the minimum protections around the child, that didn’t stop her from letting the human stab her the other week.

The demon princess needed the apocalypse to happen, and for that she needed Lavender. In theory she could always have another child if she were to lose this one (Satan forbid), she herself could not be replaced. And hybrids weren’t a common occurrence.

Lavender just had the sinking feeling that she wasn’t as safe as she thought she was. It suddenly occurred to her that there was nothing stopping Myra from just taking what she wanted. Whisking her off to hell and forcing her to sit alone in a cell, force fed innocent souls, until she gave birth. It wasn’t as if anyone could rescue her there. Taking a physical being out of the realm that was the underworld was virtually impossible for anyone besides a high ranking demon.

The intensity of the air intensified and Lavender felt her senses go into overdrive. Every small change of environment was making her jump. As she attempted to make her way back to her home, she noticed that the atmosphere seemed to get more and more dense. It was becoming harder to breathe and storm clouds completely blocked out the setting sun.

Crackles of energy were starting to surround her, tiny flecks of light that acted as a window into another dimension. A dimension that only her soul seemed to recognize. She fought to avoid them. No one else around her seemed to even see it. The rifts became more and more prominent until the fabric of reality appeared to tear right before her eyes and static overwhelmed her, shooting through her body while she was plunged into darkness.

Everything went cold and black. She couldn’t even see her breath condense in front of her face as every source of light disappeared until a small blue flame budded and blossomed to her left. Once it was bright enough, her eyes adjusted and Lavender found herself in a freezing jail cell with solid metal walls.

An illusion? Lavender wondered to herself as she dared to touch the seamless wall that the torch appeared to be attached to. It didn’t feel like magic. It felt familiar somehow in some way. Something was chilling about this place. Not just the lower temperature but just the heaviness that seemed around it.

“Welcome home, Shoshanna.”

Miles away, deep within Fox Forrest, Sweet Pea’s concentration suddenly broke as he felt something ethereal being ripped away from him. The air was knocked from his chest as the knowledge of what this feeling meant swept over him.

A cry erupted from him as he stood, unable to stop the tears that flooded his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. She was gone. Completely and totally gone. Their bond was completely broken and he no longer felt any connection to the love of his life.

Lily could feel a fraction of his pain as terror struck her deeply. She gasped for air, wishing that Jughead were here to help them. Sweet Pea’s pain was so incredible that his magical energy totally stunted. The spell was broken and the forest was no longer a safe haven.

“Sweet Pea!” She yelped, attempting to bring him out of whatever personal hell he had been sent into at the sudden loss of his mate. “We have to protect the forest! For Daisy!” She cried, trying to get through to him in some way.

But all Sweet Pea could think about was his unborn daughter. The little girl that never even made it out. She was gone just as Lavender was and his fractioning mind couldn’t think of a way to bring either of them out. The worst came over him, the sheer dread that they were dead. If he could find them, maybe he could resurrect them. Maybe he could give his soul for him. Maybe-

Lily attempted to regain her strength as she invoked the spell one more time. To cover the entire forest, she had to spread herself incredibly thin. It wasn’t nearly as strong as she needed it to be, but it was something. She needed him more than ever but there was a phenomenon that deeply depressed witches lost their connection to their magic. It was possible that he couldn’t help her.

Rage filled the witch as he punched anything that got into his way, trashing the living room as Lily continued to work. He screamed to his patrons, begging for them to bring her back or to take him instead. Anything to not feel the way he was currently feeling.

Daisy hid under her bed, afraid of the tornado that was currently her father. She whimpered as she curled tightly into a ball, trying her best to make herself invisible so as to not be hurt even by accident.

Lily was pulled between trying to calm the bull and trying to save the forest. Unfortunately her loyalty laid fully with her daughter as she dropped what she was doing. She sprung up from her place on the floor and grabbed Sweet Pea by the arm, forcing her white magic into him in an attempt to calm him.

His incoherent screaming ceased as she brought him back to reality. The reality that was just too painful for him to bear in the moment. “She wouldn’t kill her,” Lily said in an attempt to lessen his pain. “She’s not dead, you know that. She’s just hidden somewhere from us.”

He furiously wiped his tears and snot away, not wanting anyone to see him in such a disastrous state. “I shouldn’t have let her go alone.” He said through heavy puffs of air. “I should have followed after her like I always do. Or make her come here. Oh god, why didn’t I-”

“Pea,” Lily said, forcing more magic into him. “You were trying to protect Daisy and me, it’ll be okay. We’ll get her back as soon as we can locate her, okay? Myra needs that baby more than anything in the entire world and the only one that can bring it to term is Lavender. She would get nothing if she killed her.”

Sweet Pea stared at her, “what if she thinks I chose you over her?” He asked, beginning to feel numb from his loss. “She will hate me.”

“She will not think that.” Lily consoled. “She will know that you needed to protect Daisy. I’m sure she’s more worried about getting out of whatever situation she’s in. If anything this is my fault for offering her up on a silver platter to begin with.”

He was silent, unable to counter that. He did still blame Lily for making the agreement she had made, however none of them could have expected for this to be the outcome. Lily returned to her spot, determined to try and still protect the pack with what energy she had left while Sweet Pea went to fetch Daisy to make sure she knew everything would be alright.

“Lavie?” She whimpered as he pulled her out from under the bed. His heart felt as though it had fallen deep down inside of his chest. All he could do was hold Daisy close as he tried his best not to cry again.

Three days passed on the mortal realm, and with each one Sweet Pea became more and more weary. He didn’t eat, he barely slept, and most of his time was spent hunched over a desk, speed reading through magical manuscripts on how to look through a magical veil. How to locate someone who had been hidden from all normal sights. He was tempted, so tempted to offer his soul back to Asmodeus for the return of his soulmate. The only thing stopping him was Lily’s reminder of how much he had hurt both of them during the time he was soulless. He couldn’t expect her to stay with him if he abused her any more than he already had.

It was late afternoon when Lily called him with somewhat good news. She had managed to locate the hybrid in a deep part of Hell. However, pulling a physical being out of one realm and placing them into another took a lot of magic. A lot of black magic that Sweet Pea just didn’t have.

And that is where Jughead Jones came in. There was a member of the pack that needed to be taken care of. Punishment for something terrible that he had done. While pure souls were more sought after, typically any old one would do in a pinch. If they offered one life for another, then a trade could be made with a demon other than Myra. It would give them enough leverage to get into Hell and get Lavender out.

But who to call upon was the problem. The decision was left to Sweet Pea. While in the past he had obviously catered to Asmodeus, another prince could be called upon to enact a trade. Sweet Pea had chosen Asmodeus as he used sex magic to fulfill his needs. Invoking the demon of lust to give him power through his sexual conquests. It was only fitting for him to have taken Sweet Pea’s soul through the very thing he used to gain power.

But Myra was his daughter. And she was acting on his will. Asmodeus wanted Lavender in his clutches (she was a sex demon after all, the epitome of a lust-filled being) just as much if not more than the blonde princess.

He would need someone of equal power that would take a soul of any condition. As he drove to the cottage, he knew who it had to be. He would offer this rogue wolf to Prince Mammon, the embodiment of greed.

He parked his bike out front before going inside. This was perhaps the most dangerous thing he had ever done in terms of magic. The need to see his lover again somehow overpowered the incredible amount of anxiety he felt. He walked in, seeing a tall and bulky man tied to one of the wooden kitchen chairs. Lily must have cast a silencing spell on him, as his lips were moving furiously but no sound was coming out.

Sweet Pea wore a dark expression on his face as he slipped off his leather jacket before pulling off his flannel shirt and white tank top. Lily picked up a jar of paint that had been colored black with mountain ash. She began to paint different runes across his torso, embedding her protective white magic into the symbols to help keep him safe when he went into hell.

“Who did you decide to call upon?” She asked, her voice a low whisper as if the question itself was forbidden. Sweet Pea had done plenty of idiotic things when it came to magic, but this was an entirely new level. She feared for his safety more than Lavender. Even a half-demon could survive hell. A human, witch or otherwise, could not. He’d need to be swift.

“Mammon.” Sweet Pea replied gruffly, knowing she would not like that answer. Lily stiffened, her touch slackening against his pectoral. Green eyes stared up at him, full of worry and doubt. If he didn’t know any better then he would have thought he saw love in there too. Jughead also seemed to notice and let out a small, feral growl in return.

Lily glanced at her mate before shaking her head. She really didn’t need him being possessive at a time like this. “There, it’s done.” She said, choosing not to comment on what she felt was a bad choice in demons. Not that there were any good ones they could call upon. She placed an old brass compass in his hand. “This will lead you to her. If you lose focus, then so will the needle. Your soul should be able to sense her once you’re there. You won’t have much time so you’ll need to hurry.”

She paused, looking back up at him as her hands trembled. “Pea, he’s going to ask for more. You know that, right? One wolf will not be enough. You do this once, he will want you to do it again and again.”

His expression steeled, “I’ll give him whatever the fuck he wants if it gets me Shanna and our daughter back.”

“And if he wants the apocalypse?” She dared to ask.

“Then the world as we know it will burn.” He replied, completely stoic.  

Lily heaved a heavy sigh. The whole point of this was to stop the world from ending, but she couldn’t deny him this. She couldn’t stand to see him spiral downward anymore. This had to be done regardless of consequences.

They took each other’s hands, closing their eyes as Sweet Pea began to chant. He called for Mammon, told him to take this wolf as sacrifice to do as he pleased, and in return to open a gateway to hell.

The cottage shook as Jughead held Daisy protectively in his arms. His hair stood on end as the air pressure within the room started to increase. There was an infernal pop along with a gusting of air that came with the flapping of wings.

The witches opened their eyes to see a tall man with shaggy beard and hair. His eyes were clouded as if he were blind, however both witches knew fully well that he could see just fine. His black feathered wings pulled in close to his body, partially shielding him as he observed the scene in front of him. The tarnished crown on his head was lopsided as if it had been placed there without care. The only thing glittering on it were the rare gemstones fastened within the blackened metal.

He peered upon them with his glossy eyes. “My, my, if it isn’t Asmodeus’ little headaches.” He said, clearly amused by the two mortals that had been giving his brother such a hard time. “Offering me just one puny soul for the entrance to hell? Do you not know how to temp the god of greed?”

“I will give you whatever you desire, Mammon.” Sweet Pea spoke distinctly. The only defensive power he had over the demon was the knowledge of his name. “I must get her back.”

“The little succubus.” He mused out loud, “pretty little thing. Apparently, my brother plans to pimp her out after she’s brought about the end of times. Something about demons loving a mortal that can take their damned cocks.” He waved his hand around as he spoke, as if he were conjuring his words with the motions. “I have to admit, I am a little jealous. How much more rich he could become using her.”

Sweet Pea sneered. “Well, he can’t have her. I’ll make sure of that.”

Mammon gave him an amused look, sizing him up as if he were nothing but a fragile puppy. “It is always sad when the faithful lose faith, isn’t it?” He probed. “Once so devoted to Asmodeus and now here you are, at my feet, begging for my help to strong arm my brother into giving you back your love. It would be amusing if it weren’t so damn tragic.”

Lily had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Their offering wasn’t nearly enough to appease him. It was all that they could manage. Why in hell’s name did he choose the demon on greed? She wished she could stop this, however she knew that it was too late. Mammon would not leave without taking his fill.

“Are you going to help or not?” Sweet Pea asked, a fire raging in his eyes as his hands clenched tightly over Lily’s making her wince in pain. “Or should I call someone else?”

“Oh no, dark witch. I will help. You see, I want what Asmodeus has. In fact, I want it all . And you can help me, small mortal. I’ll find a use for you, I’m sure. Give me time to think. I will take this soul and body back to hell with me, and when I leave the doorway open you may slip in to get that delicacy of a soulmate of yours. You will have one hour to return. One Earth hour. If you’re not back by then, then the gate will close.”

“Is that all?” Sweet Pea asked, knowing that demons tended to slip in unnecessary bullshit with their contracts. He knew he was being asked for more than what he was already giving. He wasn’t that dense.

“Be ready when I call on you, dark witch.” Mammon said. “I can see a great destiny with you if you were to indeed stop the impending doom of the mortal realm’s destruction. I can teach you so much more than what you’ll find in your little books. Give me time. I’ll ring when I’m ready to take you on.”

Naturally it didn’t sit well with Sweet Pea that he was being asked to give something so vague as his loyalty and devotion. It wasn’t something tangible and that could be tricky. Still, it was better the possible alternative of giving his unborn child to him. This was what he thought to be a best case scenario. Sweet Pea nodded, his mouth suddenly dry as if he had been sucking on a mouthful of cotton.

A pleased and cruel smile twisted upon Mammon’s dark features as he used a blackened claw to tear open the fabric of reality, much as Myra had done on the night of the moon. “One mortal hour.” He reminded, voice echoing with a sinister tone as he stepped into the void, wings flexing behind him to fit through the narrow pathway into hell.

Sweet Pea released Lily’s hands. He grabbed the compass and a pocket watch. He started towards the sparking entryway.

“Pea,” Lily called out to him, her voice wavering. He turned his head to the side to look at her from the corner of his eye. “Be safe.” She murmured, “and hurry .”

Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen​, @lilhemmo​, @wayward-river​, @southside-vixen, @princesweetpea​, @redhairdontcare732​  (comment/ask/message if you want to be added or subscribe to AO3)

Enjoy my work? You can leave a tip or like/reblog/follow!

[waywardxqueen]

The Reason Is You: Chapter One

Post Provider. After another encounter with Mohra demons, Angel becomes human, but when Cordelia gets a vision of the Fang Gang dying in an upcoming battle he makes a deal with the PTB, who tells him that he must sacrifice a part of his future for him and his loved ones to keep his human memories. Rated M for language, smut, and violence. Eventual crossover with BTVS.

Set six months after Provider. Everyone can see how much Angel and Cordelia love each other, but the two still won't own up to their feelings for one another. When Angel has another encounter with a Mohra demon and becomes human again. When he realizes that he will be useless in an upcoming battle, he makes a deal with the Powers That Be that will prove to Cordelia how much he truly loves her. Eventual crossover with Buffy

Disclaimer: I don't own these amazing characters, if I did the show would have ended so much differently! No profit is being made off of this, it's for entertainment purposes only.

Reviews will make me very very happy!

The Reason Is You

Chapter One

"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless" Cordelia tried to sound cheerful, but she was exhausted from the previous night. It was nothing new these days, she felt like she hadn't stayed in her own apartment in months. The business was booming, which was a good thing, but balancing saving the world with visions from the PTB and helping raise a now crawling baby was exhausting; still, she wouldn't trade it for the world.

After she took down the potential client's information, she grabbed her coffee mug and went to get herself a refill. That's when she noticed them, the green-skinned man like demons who came crashing through the doors of the Hyperion Hotel.

"Angel! We've got company!" she yelled towards the back office, where Angel had just gotten Conner to take a nap. Wes was off consulting with an old friend about a prophecy he had recently translated, Gunn and Fred were out to lunch, leaving the vampire with a soul and the part demon seer alone. When Angel bolted from the office and saw the three demons, a look of shock instantly covered his usual brooding face."You have to destroy the jewel on their forehead," he said flatly, catching the sword that Cordelia had tossed his way. He'd encountered these demons before, but that was a day only he remembered. In seconds the demons were tried to get the advantage, all three coming after Angel. It was their mission, what they were hired for. Assassin demons, just another day at the office. Cordelia ran to grab another sword from the weapons cabinet but was stopped when one of Mohra demons threw her into the front counter, screaming in pain she kicked the demon hard enough that he stumbled backward while she jumped back to her feet, ignoring the pain from the gash on her head. Looking behind the counter she grabbed the first thing she could find, Wesley's newest prized possession, a priceless ax that had an inscription carved into it. Without hesitation she swung it around, causing it to slice through the demon's neck, taking its head completely off. When the green glowing blood sprayed everywhere, she gave Angel a disgusted glare before using all of her force to smash the red jewel on its forehead with the ax.

Quickly she ran over to where Angel was cornered by the other two, one which had already used its nails to cut through the vampire's shirt, which was now soaked in blood, Angel kicked that one away, sending it flying towards Cordelia and the blood-covered ax, the brunette seer then gave the demon the same treatment as she had given his friend, while Angel killed the other. Once the fight was over Cordelia rushed over to him, worried about the strange look on his face.

"Our blood mixed" was all he could say, Cordelia gave him a clueless glance as she helped him to the couch to patch him up, not worried about her own bleeding wound on the back of her head.

"If that's that worst that happened, I'm going to say get the hell over it.." she mumbled as she collapsed next to him. As if it were on cue, Gunn and Fred came through the door, instantly worried when they saw the three headless demons dead on the ground

"What the hell happened here?" Gunn asked, seeing his two slime-covered friends exhausted on the couch

"The same thing that happens at least once a week, nasty demons broke in and tried to kill us." The hazel-eyed woman glared, looking down at her ruined clothes, "and this shirt was new! God I don't get paid enough for this..." she grumbled, wincing in pain as Fred touched the back of her head to see where the blood was coming from.

"I'll get the first aid kit.." the petite girl spoke, looking at Angel who still had an awed kind of look on his face."How did you know how to kill them anyway?" Cordelia questioned, looking over at him.

"One almost killed me and Buffy the last time she was in town.." he admitted, looking over at the woman who had taken out two of the demons by herself. Her eyes widened as her mouth suddenly formed a perfect 'o' shape. After Cordelia had learned that he lied about sleeping with Darla, part of her terms to forgive him was that he had to confess everything he had lied to her about, including when twenty-four hours of her memory was wiped because of his last encounter with a Mohra demon. Now they both shared the same concerned looks.

"What aren't you telling us..?" Gunn was suspicious now as he saw the worried looks wash over his friends, "they're dead so it's done.."

"Whose first?" Fred looked between the two, only nodding as Angel pointed to Cordelia.

Neither one of the two answered, it wasn't Cordelia's place to tell, and Angel didn't know how to explain that as they sat there he was quickly becoming human. He could feel it already, the blood pumping through his veins as his heart slowly started to beat once again. Cordelia on the other hand was dealing with an entirely different range of emotions. Happiness for him, but selfish hurt for herself; she had no doubt that now that he was human he would run off to find Buffy, taking Conner away so that he could have the life he always wanted with the slayer he had been in love with for years. She didn't complain about the pain as Fred stitched up her gash, when it was done she stood up without saying a word, walking off to the office to check on Conner.

The eight-month-old was sleeping peacefully when she got there, he hadn't woken up at all during the fight. She tried to fight the tears that started to form when she saw the sleeping baby, but she lost the battle against herself. As the tears began to fall she let her fingers softly run through Conners's baby soft hair.

"I'm going to miss you more than you can possibly know little guy.." she whispered, being careful not to wake him. Wiping away stray tears she left the office, not looking at anyone as she mumbled something about going home to clean up. She was about to lose the two most important people in her life, and she had no idea how she'd be able to go on without them.

Hours passed, and after taking a shower, changing into clean clothes, Cordelia still didn't go back to the hotel. She couldn't take hearing all of the excitement over Angel being human, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he was off to Sunnydale. It would hurt too much; she couldn't handle hearing his plans. So instead she stayed curled up with a blanket on her couch, thinking about what her future would be like now. A seer without her champion, a surrogate mother without her child, a lonely twenty-one year old without her best friend and the man she was in love with.

She ignored the knock at the door, not wanting to face anyone just yet. Tears kept falling as she thought about everything that had happened in her life since running into Angel nearly four years ago. Everything they had been through together, the person who she had become because of him.

"Hey.." she heard a voice speak, using the blanket to dry off her tear-streaked face she looked up at him. Angel.

"I thought you'd be halfway to Sunnydale by now.." she mumbled, looking back down at her hands

"What? Why..?" he seemed to be genuinely confused by the idea when Cordelia gave him a 'why do you think' look, realization set in. "That's why you left.." he finally got it, sitting next to her he shook his head. He had to tell her the truth, she needed to know. "I'm not going anywhere," Angel promised, a soft smile forming on his lips as she looked over at him.

"Why? This is what you've been fighting for.. your redemption, becoming human.." a sniffle caused her to stop speaking for a second, "you have the chance to be with the woman you love, to give Conner a family.. why stay?" Angel couldn't believe what he was hearing, was she honestly that clueless?

"Conner already has a mother" he stated, it was now or never, taking a breath he nervously set his hand on her interlaced ones, watching as she slowly let herself look him in the eyes for the first time since he told her about the demon, "I do love Buffy," he stared, causing her to flinch, "but not in the way you think. She and I tried, but it didn't work out for a reason. The reason was you." Her eyebrows raised, and instantly she pushed his hand off of her.

"Me? You're blaming me for you and Buffy not working out? I didn't do anything!" she snapped, obviously not understanding what he meant. He couldn't help but grin, only Cordelia would snap at him when he was trying to explain that she was the reason, because he was in love with her.

"Yes, I'm blaming you.." he finally said, amusement in his voice as she glared, completely unaware of his feelings. "Because you made me realize that what Buffy and I had... as great as it was, it was nothing compared to what I could have. I could never have a family with her... I could never count on her to be there for me even after I made mistakes. She's not the girl that I want to spend my life with... that I want to be the mother of my son."

"Again. How the hell is that my fault?" she seemed truly offended as she interrupted him.

"Because you are that girl." He finally told her, "the way that you are with Conner, taking care of him as if he has always belonged to you. The way that you have never turned your back on me even when I deserved it, you're wrong, you did everything.. you showed me I could have a life that I never even dreamed of because I knew I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve you, I still don't... But I'm not going to miss my chance. I love you, how do you not know that already? I am completely in love with you Cordelia and if you think I would walk away from you, or take Conner away from the only mother he will ever know you really are crazy." It was out. He told her. He watched her carefully as her expression changed from anger to confusion, to something entirely different. Her eyes were filling up with tears again, but for something different now. She didn't say anything, she couldn't, no words could possibly explain her feelings

Cordelia looked at him in a way that she never had before, a smile appearing on her face for the first time since the fight. She slowly lifted her hand up to his face, softly letting her fingers glide against his skin, before finally letting her lips crash against his. What started out as a loving, sweet, and gentle kiss instantly turned needy. Their lips didn't part an inch as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his lap. Their tongues challenged each other's; moving together in perfect sync. Cordelia's hands moved down his chest, carefully unbuttoning the bottom button, moving up as quickly as she could before she grew impatiently and tore his shirt open, causing the remaining buttons to pop off and bounce across the hardwood floors. Angel pulled back for a second and looked at her lovingly, an amused grin appearing on her face.

"I'll buy you a new one" she promised before her lips attacked his once again, using her hands to free him of the rest of the fabric of the shirt. The slight coldness of her hands caused him to tremble a bit when her fingers traced along his now bare chest and down to his abs. Angel let his hands move underneath her tank top against her soft warm skin, all the way up her back where he discovered that she wasn't wearing a bra, it made his grin grow wider. In a matter of seconds, the gray tank top was discarded and he had moved his lips from hers down to her neck, nibbling softly at her skin causing a quiet moan to escape her throat.

Angel picked her up, her arms and legs wrapped around him as her lips went back to his automatically while he carried her to her bed, laying her down gently before sitting next to her. She was looking up at him, her face clean of any makeup, her hair still damp from her shower. He breathed in as he took in all of her beauty, she was perfect in every single way. Then she smiled; he thought he'd melt. Her fingers interlaced with his as she pulled him down to her level, her other hand resting on the back of his head as she pulled him into another perfect kiss. Quickly he kicked his shoes off and rolled on top of her, his knees on each side of her perfectly toned body. His lips moved to her neck again, slowly moving south until he reached her full breasts, the cool touch of his hand causing both nipples to become erect in an instant. Her head was spinning, every little touch had her on edge and wanting more. As his tongue swirled around one of her nipples another soft moan escaped, his other hand was gently massaging her other breast. Cordelia couldn't think of a time where she had been so completely happy, her stomach instinctively sucked in as he continued to move his head down, kissing down to her navel. His hands slowly moved down her sides, his fingers locking on the top of her shorts and the G string she wore underneath. He paused; looking up at her as if he was asking for permission, a small nod was all he needed before he removed the remaining pieces of clothing. As he did so he lifted one of her legs, his hand running up and down the smooth surface before he began to leave a trail of kisses from her ankle to her thigh, placing her foot down on the bed. He moved her other leg apart more as he continued kissing up her thigh. His heart was racing, he had wanted this for so long and thought he'd never get it. In one swift move his tongue he tasted her for the first time. To his delight, she was already insanely wet, his tongue moved roughly between her folds, purposely avoiding her clit, knowing it would drive her crazy. Angel wanted to grin when he heard her gasp, her breathing quickening with every little touch. She tasted incredible; he couldn't get enough of her. He moved one of his hands down, backing his head away from her for a brief second, letting his fingers touch her, feeling her body shake beneath him. He continued to rub her, feeling her continue to grow wetter by the second, his thumb moved to her clit, rubbing it gently at first as his tongue went back to work. He used his other hand to spread her legs apart more before letting his middle finger slide between her folds, teasingly entering her for a second before rubbing more. Hearing her light moans and fast breathing only made him want to keep going. Angel moved his hand away from her clit, letting his tongue finally flick it just as his middle finger entered her. His hand moved up to massage her breast, his finger pumping in and out of her while his tongue roughly flicked her nub before sucking on it for a moment, feeling her hips buck slightly. She was so amazingly tight, when he let a second finger enter her he could hear her wince in pain but he didn't stop, soon enough her moans were beginning to grow louder. Her fingers moved through his hair, tugging on it as she felt herself growing closer and closer. Every time his fingers plunged into her she could feel herself about to go over the edge until he sucked on her clit again while his tongue continued to move against it. The sensation was enough to make her scream, he could feel the cum as it dripped down his fingers, didn't stop, he kept going as her hips bucked against him, her entire body shaking, and her fingers pulling so hard on his hair that he was surprised none of it came out.

Cordelia took him by surprise when she began to regain control of her body, pulling him up to her by his hair and kissing him. It was nowhere near as gentle as the first kiss they had shared, it was rough, her way of telling him just how much she wanted him. As soon as he was face to face with her again, her hands moved down his chest, stopping at his belt which she unbuckled and discarded in record time. She didn't take a beat before unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down as much as she could. Angel kicked them off, gasping when he felt the warmth of her hands wrapping around his already rock hard cock. It took all of the strength he had not to cum right then. He helped her push his boxers off while she continued to let her hand rub up and down his dick before her other hand pushed down on his back. He looked down at her, her eyes were practically begging him, the anticipation of what was about to happen made his entire body shake. Slowly he lowered himself onto her, gently entering her. Cordelia bit her lip, he was a lot bigger than anyone she'd been with. Her eyes closed as he filled her completely, it hurt for a moment, but he gave her a second to adjust. He rocked his body slowly, still letting her get used to his size, and he was still getting used to how incredibly tight she was. In all of his years, with all of the other women he'd been with.. nothing felt as amazing as being inside her. He picked up his pace a little more, but he didn't want to rush it. Each slow thrust made him feel more and more alive, he'd never felt this close to anyone. He could feel his heart beating even faster as his thrusts became quicker, rougher; he wanted to be as deep inside of her as possible. He groaned as her nails dug into his back, his lips moving to her neck, kissing, licking, and biting at it as he continued to glide in and out of her perfectly tight hole. He was surprised once again when she used all of her strength to roll them over, straddling him. She had a wild look in her eyes as she began to ride him, slowly at first but before too long her hips were moving at an incredibly fast pace. Cordelia's hands fell to his thighs, squeezing them as her back arched, bending almost into a full backbend as she continued to move on top of him.

"Damn" he groaned, completely amazed at her flexibility, he knew she was a cheerleader, but damn. It was his turn to surprise her, he sat up quickly, his hands getting a good grip on her thighs before he stood up, using his strength to lift her off of his cock before slamming back down, she screamed, and God did he love the sound of her screams in his ear. He kept going, and her moans became louder by the second. He laid her back down on her back, her legs spreading into a full split as he continued to pound her, he bent over her, using his teeth to take one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking at it viciously as she squealed beneath him, his thumb began to rub her clit quickly. As she felt herself about to cum again, she pulled him down on top of her hard, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulled herself up, trying to get him as deep inside her as humanly possible. His entire body began to shake as he continued to pound into her tight little pussy, he could feel himself building up, he didn't know how much longer he could hold off. As her muscles began to tighten around his cock he forced himself to keep going, she had to get there with him. Harder, faster, deeper, her nails dug into his chest violently as she let out a moan, the feeling of her exploding all over him sent him over the edge. He kept thrusting deep into her as he started to cum, hard. Angel collapsed on top of her, still thrusting into her as he continued to cum, her tightening muscles milking him completely dry. Soon, his movements stopped altogether as he lay on top of her, both of them covered in each other's sweat, trying to catch their breath. Cordelia's eyes were closed, taking in everything from the moment, not ever wanting the wave of pleasure to stop. She smiled as she felt his lips brush against her forehead, opening her eyes for a second she stared up at him.

"Angel..?" she said quietly as he rolled off of her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"Hm?" he was still out of breath when he looked over at her, smiling as he pushed a piece of her stray dark locks behind her ear.

"I love you too." Cordelia grinned, watching the look that he gave her, he was so amazed at how lucky he had gotten. He didn't say anything back to her, she knew he loved her. Instead, he just brought her closer, kissing her lips gently. Moments passed and the two just stayed there, perfectly happy in each other's arms. When the light went off Angel glanced over at Cordelia, who at that point was thinking the same thing as he was.

"Was Dennis in the room the whole time..?" he questioned, chuckling when he saw the gorgeous brunette burst into laughter.