#the chapter is also only 3.9k words i checked

[unabashegirl]

Fragments — one shot

Harry runs into Y/N in Japan. She is his ex and she is seeking closure.

Author's note: Hello everyone, I hope you are all doing well. Here is this week's one shot! I hope you enjoy it. LOTS OF ANGST! The second part will get posted tomorrow.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots and much more :)

Please note that everything that is both underlined and italicized is from the past—they are flashbacks!

word count 3.9K

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As the sun began its descent in the late afternoon sky, Shiba Park in Tokyo was bathed in a gentle, golden light. The cherry blossoms, just beginning to bloom, added a delicate touch of pink to the scene, signaling the early days of spring. The air was crisp but not cold, filled with the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers and fresh grass.

Harry Styles, hoping to escape the relentless pace of his life, walked through the park with a coffee in hand. Dressed casually, he blended in with the locals, his trademark curls tucked under a beanie and his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The sounds of children playing, birds chirping, and the distant hum of the city created a peaceful backdrop.

As Harry roamed along the winding paths, taking in the serene beauty of the park, his attention was drawn to a familiar figure sitting on the grass. It was Y/N, his ex-girlfriend, enjoying a solitary picnic. A blanket was spread out before her, adorned with an assortment of snacks and a book lying open beside her. She seemed lost in her own world, her face relaxed and serene.

Two years had passed since their breakup, a period marked by unresolved tensions and painful memories. Seeing Y/N unexpectedly stirred a mix of emotions within Harry. He paused, torn between the urge to approach and the instinct to keep his distance. The years apart had softened some of the bitterness, but the wounds were still there, just beneath the surface.

Y/N, sensing someone's gaze, looked up and their eyes met. For a moment, time stood still. The park faded away, and all that existed was the shared history and unspoken words between them. Harry's heart raced, and he wondered if the universe was giving them a chance to get some closure or if it was sick joke.

Harry's breath hitched slightly as he stood there, unsure of what to do next. His mind raced with memories of their past together—the good times, the laughter, the fights, and ultimately, the heartbreak. He took a tentative step forward, then stopped. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed to be caught in a similar turmoil. Her eyes, which had initially shown surprise, softened as she looked at him, but there was also a hint of uncertainty.

The sounds of the park seemed to fade into the background as they continued to hold each other’s gaze. Finally, Harry took another step forward and then another until he was standing a few feet away from her. He hesitated, then managed a small, tentative smile.

“I thought Japan was my territory and off limits for you” he said, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

“Didn’t realize that we still had divided territories. Weren’t you in Italy a few weeks ago?” she replied, a playful tone in her voice, but her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She shifted slightly on the blanket, making room as if inviting him to sit.

He took the invitation, lowering himself onto the grass beside her. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the only sounds being the rustling of leaves and distant laughter from other park visitors. Harry took a sip of his coffee, searching for the right words.

"Point taken," he said with a knowing smile, aware that Italy held a special place in her heart. Perhaps that's why he found himself spending most of his free time there—chasing her and the memories they had once shared. Italy had become one of refuge, a place where he could feel closer to her, even if she was no longer by his side.

"I didn’t expect to see you here," he finally said, glancing at her.

"I didn’t expect to see you either," she replied, a faint smile touching her lips. "How have you been?"

He nodded, looking down at his coffee cup. "I've been... busy. Touring, recording, the usual. What about you?"

“Good. Nothing unusual” she said, her gaze drifting to the cherry blossoms. "Life's been quiet, but good.”

"How long are you staying?"

"A month."

"You finally took those vacations," he smiled warmly, fully aware of how much she had dreamed of this much-needed break. The thought of her taking time for herself brought a sense of relief—he had always wanted her to prioritize her well-being, even if their paths had diverged.

Y/N nodded, a grateful expression softening her features. "Yes, finally," she replied, a hint of exhaustion tinged with excitement in her voice. "I needed this more than I realized."

Harry looked at her, noticing the subtle signs of weariness that hinted at the weight she had been carrying. "I'm glad you're giving yourself this time," he said sincerely. "You deserve it."

As they sat on the grass, Y/N suddenly glanced at her watch and then back at Harry, her expression shifting. "I need to get going," she said softly, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Harry looked at her, concern etching his features. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I have stuff to do."

Harry felt a pang of disappointment but tried to hide it. "I get it," he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “Let me walk you out?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure”.

They stood up together, brushing off their clothes. As they walked side by side through the park, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across their path. The silence between them was comfortable, though charged with unspoken words and hidden feelings.

Y/N looked at him momentarily and she felt like she was in the dream. Like in one of the numerous dreams that she had when they had just broken up.

As they neared the exit, Harry felt a growing sense of urgency. He wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. The thought of not seeing her again gnawed at him, so he took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Y/N glanced at him, sensing the hesitation in his voice. "I’m not sure yet."

Harry's heart raced as he quickly blurted out, "I’m taking a course on making sushi in the afternoon, and in the evening, I was invited to an art exhibition. Would you like to come with me?"

He winced slightly, realizing how rushed and jumbled his words had sounded. But to his relief, Y/N seemed to understand him perfectly. She hesitated, clearly taken aback by the suddenness of the invitation. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to decline, to remind herself of the pain that still lingered from their past. Yet another part of her, the part that still held onto the connection they once shared, was tempted to say yes.

She looked at him, trying to gauge his intentions. It wasn’t lost on her how much effort he was putting into this, how much he seemed to want to bridge the gap between them. But she also knew that accepting would mean opening old wounds, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Deep down, she felt a strong need for closure. She deserved at least that from him—an explanation for everything that had happened in those last few months. The questions that had haunted her, the confusion that lingered, all demanded answers. And as much as she wanted to protect herself from further pain, she knew that without closure, she would never truly be able to move on.

She took a deep breath, her mind racing as she weighed her options. Harry’s invitation felt like an opportunity—a chance to finally confront the unresolved issues between them, to hear his side of the story, and maybe even to find some peace.

“Okay,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze. “I’ll go”.

Harry’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and relief. “Really?”

She nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah”. she agreed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Harry nodded, his smile growing. “I’ll pick you up”.

“Sounds good” She gave him a small nod.

As Y/N walked away, a surprising sense of calm washed over her. She returned to the charming Airbnb she had rented, a place that had captivated her with its traditional decor and tranquil Japanese garden. This trip had been a rare indulgence—she never took vacations, so she had splurged on a stay that offered peace and serenity. Running into Harry had been the last thing she expected, a twist she hadn’t anticipated.

Once back, Y/N found herself reaching for the bottle of wine she had been saving for her last night in Japan. She poured herself a generous glass, savoring the rich aroma, and then slid open one of the doors that led to the garden. Sitting on the edge, she let her gaze drift over the carefully tended landscape, the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze soothing her nerves.

As she sipped her wine, memories flooded back—how it all began with Harry, how blissfully happy they had been during those first two years. The laughter, the shared dreams, the moments that had once made her heart soar.

Y/N rushed through the crowded streets, her phone cradle between her ear and shoulder as she fumbled with bags. She was late, as usual, and in the midst of her hurried pace, she decided to call her coworker to confirm a meeting time.

Without looking too closely, she scrolled through her contacts and dialed the number of her coworker. The phone rang twice before a voice answered on the other end.

“Hello?” a deep, distinctly British voice said.

“Hey, I’m running a bit late,” Y/N said not bothering with pleasantries. “But I’m almost there, so don’t leave without me, okay?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Um, I think you might have the wrong number, love,” the voice replied, amusement clear in the tone.

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. That wasn’t her coworker’s voice. Realization hit her like a freight train.

“Oh my God,” she blurted out, her face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I thought I was calling someone else!”

The man on the other end chuckled, a warm, easy sound that somehow made her feel even more flustered. “It’s not every day I get a call like this. I’m amused”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear into thin air. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, feeling like a complete idiot. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Don’t hang up just yet” He assured her, his voice still light with humor. “I’m a bit curious now. Who were you trying to call?”

“My coworker,” she replied, still mortified. “We were supposed to meet for a presentation, and I’m runnin —”

Suddenly, the call cut off, the connection lost as she moved through a spotty area of service. She stared at her phone in disbelief, her face heating up with a mix of mortification and frustration.

She hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen, but she couldn’t bring herself to redial. It had been a mistake, after all. He probably didn’t think twice about it, she told herself, brushing off the encounter as nothing more than a fleeting moment of awkwardness.

Little did she know, the brief exchange would leave a lasting impression on him. The first track on his next album would be inspired by that stranger’s call, and it would become a hit record.

The next day, as they strolled through the bustling streets of Japan, Harry noticed the silence that had settled between them. The vibrant surroundings seemed to contrast with the quiet tension that hung in the air. He glanced over at Y/N, who was lost in thought, her expression distant.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Harry remarked gently, breaking the silence. His tone was soft, tinged with concern as he searched her face for any sign of what might be on her mind.

Y/N looked up, startled out of her thoughts. She offered him a small, almost apologetic smile. “Just taking it all in,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual too, as if she were trying to keep something at bay.

Harry nodded, but he could tell there was more to it. There was a weight in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, a heaviness that seemed to grow with each step they took closer to the restaurant he had reserved for their private cooking lesson.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” Harry said, sensing the tension that lingered between them. He wanted to clear the air, to ease the unease that seemed to hang over them, but he knew that doing so would mean opening Pandora’s box—revealing a lot of things he wasn’t ready to confront just yet.

Harry’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated. She didn’t want to make things more difficult, but the weight of unspoken questions pressed down on her, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Harry,” she began, her voice trembling slightly as she forced herself to continue, “what went wrong?”.

The question hung there, raw and exposed, cutting through the fragile peace they had tried to maintain. Harry’s steps faltered, his breath catching as he turned to face her, the streets of Japan fading into the background.

“Y/N…” he started, but his voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right words. Or maybe he was afraid of them.

She looked into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, an apology, anything that could make sense of the pain that had consumed her in the months after their breakup. “We used to be happy until those last few months,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s chest tightened as memories of their past came rushing back. He could see it all so clearly—the late-night conversations that stretched into the early morning, the spontaneous trips, the way she used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. It was all there, and it hurt to think about how they had lost it.

Y/N stood outside the studio, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned against the wall, trying to stay out of sight. She had only been dating Harry for a few weeks, and everything still felt so new, so fragile. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she’d arrived at the studio, the sound of his voice singing had stopped her in her tracks.

She could hear him inside, his voice smooth and captivating as he worked through a melody with a small group of people. Y/N knew she should knock, let him know she was there, but something held her back. She was still shy around him, nervous about stepping into his world, a world she felt she was only just beginning to understand.

The music flowed through the walls, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. She could hear the passion in Harry’s voice, the way he poured himself into every note. It was mesmerizing, and she found herself leaning closer to the door, not wanting to miss a single word.

She bit her lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she listened. This was Harry in his element, doing what he loved, and she didn’t want to interrupt that. But as much as she loved hearing him sing, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, like she was intruding on something private.

Just as she was about to quietly slip away, the door to the studio creaked open. One of the musicians stepped out, giving Y/N a polite nod as he passed by. She froze, hoping he hadn’t noticed her lingering there like some awkward fan. But as the door swung wider, Y/N realized with a jolt that Harry was looking directly at her.

He paused mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up with surprise and something else—something warmer. A smile spread across his face, and he excused himself from the group, his gaze never leaving hers as he stepped toward the doorway.

“Hey darlin’” Harry said softly, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and affection. “How long have you been out here?”

Y/N blushed, feeling caught. “Not long,” she lied, glancing down at her shoes. “I didn’t want to interrupt… You sounded amazing, by the way.”

Harry chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “You could’ve come in, you know. I don’t bite,” he teased, but his eyes were gentle, understanding her hesitation.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she admitted, still feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

“Come here. You can never distract me” Harry said, his tone sincere. He reached out, taking her into a tight hug. Harry pulled Y/N into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her as if he were trying to shield her from the world. She melted into him, her head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

Harry held her close, his hand gently stroking her back in slow, soothing circles. The tension she had felt earlier began to dissolve in the comfort of his embrace, replaced by a sense of peace that only he could bring her. He smelled like a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him, a scent that was both familiar and calming.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his eyes soft with affection.

“You are staring” She murmured, her voice low and tender. Before she could add anything else, Harry leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal his words with reassurance.

The kiss was sweet, filled with a quiet promise that made Y/N’s heart flutter. When he pulled back, he gave her a soft smile, his eyes filled with warmth. Without letting go of her, Harry reached down and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. His grip was firm, yet gentle.

“You tell me,” Harry said, his voice suddenly sharp, cutting through the tension between them. “You were the one who left.” The bitterness in his tone was undeniable, the memory of that night still raw and vivid in his mind.

Y/N flinched at the harshness in his words, the pain of that night rushing back to her as well. “You still don’t get it? “How hard is to accept the fact that I left you because you didn’t deserve me?”. She shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. “You shut me out. You pushed me away until I couldn’t take it”.

Harry’s jaw tightened, the frustration and hurt that had been simmering inside him now boiling over. “I didn’t know how to talk to you,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. “I still don’t know how to talk to you”.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, her heart breaking all over again. “You made me feel like I wasn’t enough,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “Like I couldn’t do anything right, and that no matter how hard I tried, I was always going to lose you.”

Harry’s expression softened, the anger in his eyes giving way to regret. “It’s here” He said, his voice barely above a whisper as they arrived at the restaurant.

As they arrive at the restaurant, the atmosphere feels almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that still lingers between them. The restaurant is tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, its traditional wooden façade illuminated by soft, warm lights. The sliding door opens as they approach, and they are greeted by the chef, a kind-looking man dressed in traditional Japanese clothing. His warm smile crinkles the corners of his eyes, and he bows slightly as he welcomes them.

"Welcome," the chef says in a gentle voice, his English tinged with a thick accent. "It is an honor to have you here today."

Harry returns the bow, his hand still lightly resting on Y/N’s back as they step inside. “Thank you for having us,” he replies, his tone respectful.

The chef guides them down a narrow hallway, leading them into a cozy kitchen space at the back of the restaurant. The kitchen is immaculate, with gleaming countertops and neatly arranged utensils. Fresh ingredients are laid out in beautiful wooden bowls, each one perfectly prepared for the lesson ahead. The smell of fresh fish, rice, and various seasonings fills the air, making Y/N’s stomach rumble slightly in anticipation.

The chef turns to them with another smile. “Today, we will be learning the art of sushi,” he says, gesturing to the ingredients. “Please, take an apron.”

Y/N reaches for one of the aprons hanging on a nearby hook, the fabric soft and clean in her hands. She fumbles slightly with the ties, her fingers a bit clumsy as she tries to secure it around her waist. Before she can figure it out, Harry steps forward, his hands gentle as he takes the ties from her.

“Here, let me help,” he says softly, his voice filled with a quiet warmth that makes her heart skip a beat.

Y/N turns slightly, allowing him to stand behind her. She feels the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck as he carefully ties the apron around her, his fingers brushing against her back in a way that sends shivers down her spine. There’s a tenderness in the way he handles the simple task, a care that speaks volumes, even without words.

“All set,” Harry murmurs, his voice close to her ear. He gives the ties a gentle tug to make sure they’re secure before stepping back, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips.

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, her heart fluttering at the look in his eyes. “Thanks,” she whispers, her voice soft as she tries to ignore the way her emotions are threatening to bubble up to the surface.

The chef, oblivious to the silent exchange between them, claps his hands together, drawing their attention back to the task at hand. “Let us begin,” he says with enthusiasm. “I will show you how to prepare the rice, and then we will move on to cutting the fish.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to refocus her mind on the lesson ahead. But even as the chef begins to explain the process, she can’t shake the feeling of Harry’s hands on her, the lingering warmth of his touch a constant reminder of the connection that still exists between them, despite everything that has happened.

Part 2

[deecotan]

🌱 Deeco's ZoSan Fic Rec List 🐥

Hello hello! This is going to be a slight rework for my zosan fic rec list, because I wanted to re-organize it and add some new fics while I'm at it, so this is going to be longer than the first. Feel free to check it out!

Latest update: November 2023

Because I started making this list long before August 2023, I won't add any fics that specifically take place in live-action setting because I haven't read much of them yet. I might consider updating this list to add fics with live-action setting in the future.

—GEN/T FICS

Sketches of Life (and Love) by Fledgling (Teen, 2.9k)

An exploration of a headcanon where Sanji likes to draw in his free time. This fic always leaves me with a warm feeling every time I read it because how endearingly sweet it is. It’s basically a domestic fluff story about both ZoSan and the Strawhats crew in general.

green with envy blues by adietxt (Gen, 1.5k)

A cute fic about Zoro being jealous. Jealous!Zoro has been one of those tropes that make me screech like a feral animal every time I come across it and this fic does exactly that. It’s pretty short and simple but it captures the characters very well. It’s set during pre-timeskip which makes it even better to me because pre-TS Zoro possesses that boyish quality that post-TS Zoro doesn’t necessarily have anymore.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Fuck, Marry, Kill (or, how Usopp becomes the best matchmaker of the sea without really trying) (Teen, 4.8k) — Usopp introduces the Strawhats to a game that ends up causing Sanji to overthink things - a lot of things.

Old Men Blues by postmoderne (Gen, 2k)

Quoting directly from the fic’s summary, “Sanji and Zoro: two ancient fucks (in love).” because this is exactly that, a story about old men ZoSan. Old Zoro and old Sanji are both still as stubborn as ever and it’s endearing. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Something Golden (Teen, 1.6k) — Canon reimagining where Zoro met Sanji at the Baratie pre-series.

Meet me under the orange tree by candelina (Gen, 3.9k)

A canon divergence AU where Zoro and Sanji met as kids, as Zeff opened up Baratie in Zoro’s hometown. It’s an adorable and heartwarming story of little Zoro and little Sanji’s friendship. There’s also a part two which is also worth reading. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The whole world will know (2.3k) — Old men ZoSan fic, this one involves Zoro deliberately showing himself to the Marines for god knows what. It’s sweet, it’s beautiful, and it shows that Zoro is as reckless and idiotic as he is a loving, devoted husband.

Zoro’s Boyfriend, Who Lives In Canada by donutsandcoffee (Gen, 2.6k)

Modern AU, where Zoro’s friends try to stop him from believing that his imaginary, totally made-up boyfriend actually exists. Of course Zoro’s boyfriend doesn’t actually exist, because with the way Zoro describes him he’s way too perfect to exist and how can anyone so perfect actually exist? A hilarious story of misunderstandings.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Prison Blues (Teen, 2.8k) and it’s a long way forward (Teen, 5k) — serve as both a ZoSan story and a great Sanji character study. 

The Three of Swords by 8ball (Teen, 30k, multi-chapters & completed)

A medieval AU with knight Zoro and prince Sanji, a concept that starts to really grow on me after I begin to read this fic. In this story, Zoro is a cursed knight appointed to serve Sanji, a kind-hearted prince whom Zoro eventually pines over. It’s a beautiful take of prince and knight AU; devoted knight Zoro is something that I didn’t know I need. It also has a sequel.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Ocean's Child series — a canon-divergence mermaid!Sanji AU

(I Want) Someone to Love Me by three_days_late (Teen, 7.9k)

Sanji is about to turn 17, so he hopes that he can get his first kiss before that. A cute high school AU that involves everyone wanting to kiss Sanji (honestly, who doesn’t) but only one person gets to actually do it.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Blood Red (Teen, 400 words) — this might be a little biased because this fic is inspired by my comic, but it’s also a perfectly good reason why I must add it here; this fic is able to capture the spirit of the comic perfectly. If you want to read a short exposition of Zoro showing his darker, yet protective side, then this fic is worth the read. Warning for blood & hints of violence. The Christmas Swap (Teen, 37k, multi-chapters & completed) — a modern AU in which Sanji and Reiju switch partners during Christmas so they can attend their family gathering without having to come out as queer. It’s a wonderful story about family, relationships, and the struggles of maintaining those things as a queer person. The Only Way Out (Is Through) (Teen, 4.8k) — a beautiful Prince Sanji and Knight Zoro story, where circumstances forced them to separate & unable to be together. It also has a side Nami/Vivi. I Have Loved You for 1000 Years (I'll Love You for 1000 More) (Teen, 8.9k) — Another Prince Sanji & Knight Zoro AU involving time travel & the sacrifices you go through for the ones you love.

Curly Angel by APTX & translated to English by NMTD (Teen, 9.4k, two chapters & completed)

In this alternative canon universe, everyone has a guardian angel, and Zoro’s just happened to be Sanji. Hilarity ensues.

Let me be your Inspiration by TheWanderers (Teen, 19.8k)

College AU where Sanji is an artist/painter - another fic that explores Sanji as someone with an artistic streak, but also so much more. It’s a beautiful story that starts out with Zoro having to model for Sanji’s painting but ends up falling in love with him. I love the way the author adapts the characters’ canon backstory into this universe.

Retrogade by Hazel_Athena (Teen, 21.9k, two-chapters & completed)

Sanji got badly injured after a fight, and ends up losing a big chunk of memories - it doesn’t bother him too much until he notices how weird Zoro starts to act around him. A really good temporary amnesia fic with some really delicious pining!Zoro material. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Medieval ZoSan series — a medieval arranged marriage AU. Renegade Queen (Teen, 76k, multi-chapters & completed) — a canon divergent AU where Sora lives and takes all her children with her - it's more of a Vinsmoke family story with ZoSan on the side.

Nothing Happened (Gen, 16k, multi-chapters & completed)

An angsty survival story where the Strawhats get stranded in a middle of the seas with no means to escape and rapidly declining food stock. This fic does a really good job at keeping you in suspense, and the way it handles Zoro and Sanji's relationship destroyed me emotionally. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: Each A Love Song (Gen, 8.6k) — Sanji is frustrated because Zoro’s surprisingly popular with women when he doesn’t even like them back. A story of a confused Sanji trying to find love and being the World’s Most Oblivious Man. Three Blades (Gen, 5k) — a Western AU where Sanji is a saloon owner and Zoro is a bounty hunter.

The Melody of Missing You by BleuReivers (Teen, 11k)

Zoro is forced to confront his feelings in the aftermath of Sanji's departure during the Whole Cake Island arc. I love the way this story examines Zoro's softer, more vulnerable side in a painfully beautiful way, and the whole fic has this hazy, dream-like vibe that really fits with the plot.

Sick Day by Styx_in_the_mud (Teen, 1.3k)

Zoro gets sick, and Sanji takes care of him. A short sick!fic with a simple premise but very cute nonetheless.

—MATURE/EXPLICIT FICS

Deep by CharlieNozaki (Mature, 171k, multi-chapters & completed)

This is There Are Many Benefits to Being A Marine Biologist: The Fic. Okay jokes aside, this is a modern fantasy AU fic where merpeople exist and it mainly tells about marine biologist Sanji and merman Zoro. It has an interesting premise and deals with some heavy subjects in later chapters, hence the Mature tag. It has a sequel, though it's currently ongoing. OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Game — a Modern AU with slight fantasy-ish element, where Zoro and Sanji are young orphans who find a mysterious game that might be able to change their lives.

Delphinium by toastie_bread (Mature, 39k, multi-chapters & completed)

Set in modern AU, stylist Sanji meets with police detective Zoro after his beauty salon got robbed; a cute rom-com story. There's also a side LawLu.

Steady, As She Goes by auspizien (Explicit, 155k, multi-chapters & completed)

I’ve always loved auspizien’s fics and this is the one fic that made me fall in love with their writing. This is a modern AU story where Zoro is an ex-agent with PTSD who meets and befriends Sanji, a paramedic. It’s a multi-chapter fic filled with humor, angst, pining, action, and good ol’ slow-burn.  OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: The Android Acquaintance (Explicit, 10k) — dystopian cyberpunk AU with android Sanji and bounty hunter Zoro. This fic partly inspires me to make the Blade Runner 2049 ZoSan art!

The Tribulations of Temptation by SweetyGreeny (Explicit, 18.5k)

Zoro accidentally sees Ace and Sanji doing… the do, and then spends days after that feeling shocked, confused, angry, and disappointed.  A delicious story of pining and jealous Zoro. There’s a slight AceSan in the beginning but the endgame is still ZoSan.   OTHER FICS FROM THIS AUTHOR: A Siren’s Sinking Song (Teen, 12k) — a canon-divergent AU where Sanji is a siren who one day meets a peculiar swordsman from a wandering ship; this story is beautiful and I love the idea of siren!Sanji, but please note the major character death TW.  The Burden of Blondes (Explicit, 11k) — Sanji finds out that Zoro has a thing for blondes, and for some reason he feels uneasy. A fun story with some good smut, and inspired me to make an art loosely based on it.

Thy Fearful Symmetry by Harubo (Explicit, 14.3k)

A modern AU where Sanji is a tourist visiting a tiger reserve during a family vacation and Zoro is a detective investigating a poaching ring. All of Harubo’s fics are godsend but I particularly love this one because the setting reads like a perfect rom-com drama movie about a stressed, overworked chef meeting a handsome detective. There’s also a nice tidbit where the Vinsmoke siblings are trying to get along with each other.

Done Dirt Cheap by Balderdashfromafool (Explicit, 99.7k, multi-chapters & completed)

A Western ZoSan AU, where Zoro is an outlaw and Sanji is a small town chef. This one is fun and lovely, and as someone who doesn’t read a lot of Western-themed stories, I love the way the author describes the Western setting in this fic. 

The Fox's Heart by Shadowcatxx (Explicit, 32k, multi-chapters & completed)

Historical/mythological AU where fox spirit Sanji falls in love with human samurai Zoro. A pretty heavy story about forbidden romance but ends with a happy ending. The fic deals with some period-typical issues like homophobia, misogyny, sexism, and transphobia, as well as some depictions of violence and (slight) animal abuse, so please be aware of that.

Mine by burnwaywardbird (Explicit, 4k)

A pure PWP fic of Zoro “punishing” Sanji for flirting with strangers. Super kinky and involves slight dom/sub undertones. Also, while this is mostly pure PWP, this fic is technically part of a series and while can be read as a standalone, I highly recommend to read the other parts as well (especially the ones preceding this fic).

pretty sanji series (Pretty & Surprise) by kickingsanji (12.6k in total)

A series of fics exploring Sanji's femininity and Zoro discovering that he has a thing for Sanji being pretty & wearing pretty things. As a Pretty Sanji truther, I love these fics to bits, not only because it handles Sanji dealing with his insecurities when it comes to his gender expression in a gentle, respectful way, but also because the smut is very good.

All Will be Well by thecrownofclowns (Explicit, 17k)

An incredibly sad but sweet zombie apocalypse AU about Sanji trying to survive the zombie outbreak all by himself, before eventually meeting Zoro. One of my favorite hurt/comfort fics.

—OMEGAVERSE (ALPHA/BETA/OMEGA) FICS

Onigiri by himaaneko (Teen, 2.3k)

Very cute domestic family fic of Zoro, Sanji, and their son. For those who prefers a softer omegaverse with family/love-children fluff on the side, this fic is for you.

Bite Me by Shadowcatxxx (Mature, 15k, two-chapters & completed)

Sanji got attacked while he was alone on the ship, causing him to go into heat. Zoro tries to help, but not without consequences. An exposition on how Zoro and Sanji handle their dynamics, and their feelings towards each other. Please mind the tags with this one.

fever by adietxt (Explicit, 6.4k, multi-chapters & completed)

I'm pretty sure that this is the first omegaverse ZoSan story that I have ever read, and one of the best ones I've ever read for a good reason. It involves Sanji, who suddenly got into his heat, and Zoro, the first one to discover Sanji in heat and learns for the first time he's an omega. I won't spoil anything, but I can say that the ending is great, the porn is delicious, and Zoro being possessive is exquisite.

Steps of Calidity by auspizien (Explicit, 42k, multi-chapters & completed)

I'm gonna preface this by saying that the smut here is ungodly good and very, very hot - and to be perfectly honest, one of the main reasons why I like this fic so much. But the plot is just as good and has an interesting take of how omegaverse dynamics might work in a modern world. Don't forget to mind the tags as well.

Sweet by ElAlmaDelMar (Explicit, 1.8k)

Sanji starts lactating during his pregnancy; Zoro finds it very hot. This one is just straight up kinky. It's a sequel to another story but can be read as a standalone.

[gwennybriggs]

Beyond The Classroom

Pt. 1

I don’t expect this one to be very popular, this is a self indulgent piece 🫡

Summary: Once a Little Eagle, always a Little Eagle. Melissa keeps that promise to you year after year as she shows up for you in every possible way.

Warnings: Child abuse, neglect, abandonment, over all sad stuff (Mel makes it better!)

WC: 3.9k

Notes: Wrote this because it’s the week before Mother’s Day and I just want my mama (she’s an awful human being and will never be a part of my life again, 6 years no contact). Melissa is a comfort character for me, so I’m using this as a hug from her. I know there are plenty of other people with bad relationships with their moms (gotta love mommy issues), so I thought I’d share in case someone else would also like this hug.

I see you, I love you.

P.s. This story is about 85% based on events I experienced as a child/young adult. I’m thankful every day for the teachers who stepped in to be the parents I didn’t have.

You grew up in a not-so-wonderful household with abusive parents and older siblings who wouldn’t have noticed if you had decided to run away one day. Melissa Schemmenti knew. She was the one person you felt you could confide in as a child. She called CPS on your parents a handful of times during the year she taught you, in hopes of keeping you safe. Unfortunately, with a broken system and a mother who could sweet talk The Devil himself, your parents got off scot-free, leaving you to deal with the aftermath each time.

You would go into school the next day with a new bruise and tears in your eyes. Melissa would hold you close and let you cry all you could before pulling a chair up next to her own so you could be near your safe person all day. When it came time for dismissal, she would hug you extra tight and send a silent prayer to God that you’d walk through the doors again in the morning. On Fridays, she would sneak a Tupperware container of homemade food and a handful of snacks into your bag with a note that said ‘love you, kid’, knowing that your parents restricted your access to food and that she was probably the only person you heard those words from most days. The world sat heavy on your second grader shoulders and Melissa did everything she knew how to make it a little lighter.

Even as you moved on past second grade, Ms. Schemmenti was there. She would check in with each of your teachers at the beginning on the school year and pop in to say hello at lunch from time to time. If you had a particularly rough night at home you would stop by her room and ask her to hold you for a minute before other students arrived. She always obliged.

The day you moved on to middle school, Melissa cried right along with you. Both of you knew she wouldn’t be able to hug the hurt away or keep tabs on you as often. Of course, she made sure you knew how much she loved you, she gave you her personal phone number and said, “No matter how old you get or how far you go, you’ll always be my favorite little eagle. I’ll always be here for you if you need me and I mean it. If things go south at home, you call me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’re gonna be okay.”

As the years passed, Melissa made sure she remained a constant- the only constant, really- in your life. Through your middle school years she became your tutor, meeting you at your school’s library every Thursday after dismissal to help you with your homework. Of course, those sessions were always a little more than just help with homework; she would bring you food and make sure you had clean clothes and basic necessities. One time you let it slip that your mother had ‘forgotten’ to buy you toothpaste and she dropped off a small bag of Colgate tubes on your front porch that night.

When you entered high school, Melissa made an effort to show up for every one of your art shows and track meets. Your parents never even made it to one, but Schemmenti was there. She always was. Your high school teachers even began to think Melissa was your mother; you never corrected them. And when you started working at the hoagie stand your sophomore year, Ms. Schemmenti would stop by once a week to have dinner with you.

The physical abuse dwindled a little as you got older and were able to fight back, but the verbal abuse got worse as a result. At one point during you senior year, your mother kicked you out after throwing a fit about you not inviting her to see you try on prom dresses. You called Melissa and she drove forty-five minutes at three in the morning to get you. Your mother knocked you to the ground and pulled fistfuls of hair, creating a tangled mess. When you were finally able to get her off of you, she screamed at you the entire time you packed your bag.

“FUCK YOU Y/N, YOU SELFISH BITCH! Couldn’t even include YOUR OWN MOTHER! It hurts, it’s almost like not getting invited to your WEDDING!” You dodged books and trinkets she threw at you as you tossed whatever sentimental things you could think of into trash bags to take with you. Photos of your grandparents, your favorite stuffed animal, and some of your artworks made it in before you heard Melissa honking in the driveway.

“You’ve never been my mom,” you seethed with tears streaming down your face as you dragged your bags down the stairs.

She blocked you from leaving at the bottom of the stairs and backhanded you, her ring catching the tender skin beneath your eye. You yelped in pain and stumbled forward, she grabbed you by the throat and squeezed. “You walk out that door and NEVER come back, you hear me? You are worthless, a waste of space and air.” She dug her nails into your skin before she released you and practically pushed you through the front door.

“You’ll never have to deal with me again. You want me out? I’m out.”

Your father followed behind with his fists balled up, “If you ever come back, it’ll be the last time you see daylight!”

Melissa waited for you by the car with her baseball bat, ready to swing if need be. Once your bags were in the backseat, Melissa tossed her baseball bat into the trunk and drove off. Your mother chased the car all the way down the driveway calling you every derogatory thing she could come up with.

The drive to Melissa’s house was silent save for the occasional quiet aob from both parties. Once you arrived, Melissa took your bags inside and walked you up the stairs to her bathroom to nurse your wounds. You winced as she swabbed your cheek with isopropyl alcohol and she frowned. “I’m so sorry, hon. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner to stop her.”

“Don’t be, you still showed up when I needed you. It coulda been a lot worse. Thank you,” you cried as you leaned your head against her stomach just like when you were a second grader.

She held you until your tears dried then left the room to grab a change of clothes for you. Moments later, she handed you a pair of her sweatpants and an oversized Eagles t-shirt. “You can take the bed tonight, I’ll sleep on the couch. My spare room doesn’t have a bed right now, but we can fix that tomorrow after I call out of work. You need anything before I head down, kid?”

You looked at the ground, embarrassed to even ask, “Would you maybe… would it be okay if…. never mind, it’s stupid.” You shook your head and climbed under the comforter, it smelled like Melissa.

She somehow knew exactly what you were asking without hearing the words. She climbed into the bed and lifted an arm for you to scoot in. “Of course, sweet girl, it’s not stupid at all. I’ll keep you safe, promise. Try to get some sleep, I’ll be right here.” You settled into her embrace and took a deep breath.

You whispered, “I love you, thank you.”

“I love you too, baby girl. Sleep tight,” she whispered back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she held you, watching as the rise of your chest slowed. She stayed awake the whole night, guarding your peace.

Late the following morning, you woke up to an empty bed and the sound of people in the house. You popped your head out into the hallway to see Melissa directing three men where to go with the new bed set. She heard the door creak and looked over at you with an apologetic smile, “Hey, hon, sorry to wake you! They’ll be outta here shortly. I called your school and work to let them know you wouldn’t be in for a few days so you don’t have to worry about it. I washed the clothes that were in your backpack, they’re sitting by my bathroom. There’s also a clean towel for you and a new toothbrush on the counter. You’re welcome to use my hairbrush and whatever else you need.” You smiled back at her and closed the door.

You picked an outfit from the pile of folded clothes and shut the bathroom door to shower. Your body was sore from the adrenaline and you groaned in pain as you shed your pajamas. Standing naked in the mirror, you looked over the marks your mother left on you. The nail marks on your neck were already scabbed over, but the gash under your eye was bruised and definitely going to leave a scar. You traced your fingers along each mark, tears forming in your eyes. The shower was hot enough to leave your skin red, you wanted to burn away any remnants of what happened to you. You sobbed loudly as you tried to detangle the mess of hair your mother created, it hurt and you were so worried that you’s just have to cut it all off.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Ya decent?” You opened the door for her and she gently took the brush from your hands. She directed you to sit backwards on the toilet while she worked at the knots on your head. You nearly fell asleep sitting there as she hummed and massaged conditioner into your hair, working diligently to make sure you kept your beautiful hair.

“You sleep okay,” She asked as she rinsed your hair in the sink.

“That was the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time. I haven’t slept in a bed in months, it was so soft.” You said it like it was nothing.

She paused. “Whatduya mean you haven’t slept in a bed in months?”

You sighed deeply. “They took my bed away because they said I was a whore and didn’t deserve one. I told them that I’m a virgin and they took the door off of my room, callin’ me a liar.” You hadn’t told her that detail when you saw her at one of your track meets a few months before. You figured you’d shared enough heartbreaking details with the woman, she didn’t need to be even more worried about you.

Hot tears silently flowed down her cheeks. She was angry. Not at you for not telling her, but at the low-lifes you called parents. “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” she spat. She was ready to call in one of her favors from The Tire Iron. “Well I’ll tell ya one thing, kiddo, you ain’t goin’ back there ever again. You’ll never be without ‘long as I’m around, ya got it? And you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want, no strings attached.”

You choked back your own tears. “Thanks, Ms. Schemmenti. I truly appreciate you.” She wrapped your hair in a towel and you turned to hug her. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve, apparently,” she teased when your stomach growled loudly. She grabbed your chin to look at you, “And no more ‘Ms. Schemmenti’. You can call me Melissa, Mel, Aunt Mel, whatever you want, just not that. You’re family, kid. Now c’mon, I’ll make you something to eat before we head out for a shopping trip.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her brow furrowed, “You tryin’ to make me feel old? None of that ma’am stuff either.” You giggled and followed her down to the kitchen.

She made French toast and sausage and you devoured the meal in just a few bites. Satisfied with you having eaten, she grabbed her purse, dragged you to the car and pulled out of the driveway. Along the way, she asked you to make a list of anything you might need or want. You took your phone out and looked at it for the first time that day. The screen was full of awful messages from both of your parents and extended family members. You chose to clear the screen and turn off notifications without reading them all and opened your notes app to jot down a few things you knew you missed when packing bags.

Melissa pulled into the mall parking lot and looked over at you, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what happened?”

You rubbed your eyes and tried to fake a smile, “Nothin’, I’m just tired.” She knew you well enough to know when you were lying, but she wasn’t going to push you on the subject.

“Mkay, kid. If you decide you wanna talk about it, you know I’ll always listen. And you know I’d kill for ya.” She gently nudged you with her elbow and the two of you made your way into the mall. You showed her your list and she took charge, guiding you around to every clearance rack and bargain bin in the vicinity. You paid for the majority of your new finds, but she insisted on helping with funds here and there. Many stores later Melissa stopped for a bathroom break and you found yourself in front of Auntie Anne’s. Remembering how much she loved soft pretzels- she’d get one every field trip- you decided to buy two, one for each of you. It was a very small token of gratitude, but you knew she’d be excited.

When she exited the bathroom, she scanned the food court for you and found you sitting at a table with all the bags. She sat down across from you and you pushed the soft pretzel her way with a little cup of honey mustard, “Thank you for today. Normally I hate shopping, but you made it fun.”

She gave you an upside down smile and took a bite. “I’m glad I could be a good distraction for ya, hon. And thank you for this!” She clinked her pretzel with yours to ‘cheers’ the day. As you finished your pretzels in silence while people watching, a dress shop on the upper level caught your eye. Despite trying on prom dresses, you never actually bought one.

Melissa‘s eyes followed your gaze and when she spotted the shop she knew what she was going to do. “Hey, I know you said you normally hate shopping, but since we’ve been having so much fun today… why don’t we keep the fun going and go pick out your prom dress? It’s what, two weeks out?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I can’t afford it now that I’ve spent half my savings on shit I needed today. Besides, I got to do prom last year, I’m alright missing out on this one.” You played with the straw in your drink absentmindedly and took the last bite of your pretzel.

Melissa thought back to the conversations she had with you about how excited you were for your senior prom. You buzzed about it every time the two of you spoke for months, it broke her heart to see you resign to not going. “My treat, hon. And I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, I know how bad you wanna go. C’mon,” she said as she prodded you up and dragged you to the dress shop.

You spent about an hour browsing and trying on different dresses, even somehow convinced Melissa to try one on with you for shits and giggles. You pretended not to see her sneak a picture in the mirror of the two of you in the matching dresses, a sweet moment she wanted to remember forever. Finally, you found the right one. The a-line strapless dress stopped mid calf, it was wine red and fit like a dream. When you emerged from the dressing room to show her, she gasped.

“Oh, beautiful girl! My favorite little eagle isn’t so little anymore.” She stuck her bottom lip out in an upside down smile as she reached to tuck your hair away from your eyes. She took a small step back and asked you to spin so she could see it all. The smile on your face told her you made your choice. With misty eyes she pulled you into a tight hug, limiting your ability to breathe.

“I can’t… breathe… help,” you choked out. The redhead lessened her squeeze and apologized but didn’t let go, she needed that moment to collect herself. You stood there embracing each other for a couple of minutes before Melissa finally released you. Once you changed back into your clothes, she took the dress to the register and paid.

You walked out together and stuffed all the bags in the trunk, laying the dress flat in the backseat. “Thank you. For everything, Aunt Mel. For a few hours, it didn’t feel like my world was crashing down around me. I’m lucky to have you.”

She kissed her fingers and then pressed them to your cheek before she started driving. “I’m pretty lucky to have you too, kid. And I’ll always be here to pick up the pieces when you need me.”

The drive back to Melissa’s house was quiet, aside from the classic rock station playing the weekly hits countdown. You checked your silenced notifications to see even more messages and missed calls from your family, Melissa glanced over and saw them too. “If you want, we can change your number this week, that way they can’t bother you anymore,” Melissa offered.

“They still pay for my phone, I can’t. They’d cancel my service the moment they found out.” You shoved your phone back into your pocket.

“Then I’ll just move you over to my cell plan. They don’t deserve the power they have over you, hon.” You opened your mouth to protest but stopped when she pointed at you. “Let me help, please. Because I can and I want to.”

“Thanks, Aunt Mel.”

A few minutes later you arrived back at the townhouse and dragged all of your new belongings up to your new room, hanging up the dress immediately. Melissa said she’d help you make the bed and get settled once she got dinner in the oven. While she was working in the kitchen, you curled up on the couch and flipped the TV on, settling on ‘Rick Steves’ Europe’ reruns. Rick’s comforting voice began to lull you to sleeping and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.

Melissa walked in to tell you she was ready and found you fast asleep. Her heart melted at the sight. She draped the couch blanket over you and lightly tucked it in so as to not disturb your slumber. ‘How could anyone hurt something so precious,’ she thought to herself. After she tucked you in, she made her way upstairs to gather your new sheets and comforter to wash them before starting on the rest of the room.

She grabbed the basket of your clothes from her own room and began to hang them up in your closet. Once she finished the task, she cleaned out the dresser and filled it with your socks, pants, and undergarments. One by one, she removed her family photos from the walls and replaced them with the handful of framed photos you brought with you. She recognized your grandparents’ photo from the one time she had met them at the beginning of your second grade year, right before they passed. They were your best friends, you were safe when they were around. Melissa decided to place the picture on your nightstand so that they’d be watching over you every night. Lastly, she organized your toiletries in the guest bathroom and set out a fresh set of towels and one of her robes.

Satisfied with her progress, she took a short break to check on you, change over the laundry, and take out the lasagna. You were still asleep and she didn’t want to disturb you so she ate alone in the dining room and texted her mother.

-Ma: Hot date?

-Mel: Nah. You remember me telling you about Y/N?

-Ma: You’ve talked about her for the last ten years, yeah I remember. Is the poor kid okay? Her parents treating her like shit again?

-Mel: They kicked her to the curb, said she wasn’t welcome back. She’s staying with me for as long as she needs to.

-Ma: Of course I’ll set an extra place for her, Amore. She need anything? You need anything?

-Mel: She needs all the love she can get, just make her feel like family. I’ve got everything else handled. Thanks, Ma.

-Ma: We can do that. Talk soon.

She finished her meal and gathered the clean bedding from the laundry room, making her way back upstairs to make your bed. Once the sheets were on, she fluffed the comforter and pillows before opening your backpack to retrieve your favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Bunz. Even at eighteen, you slept with him tucked in your arms every night. She hugged the well-loved bunny to her heart and thought back to the day she gave him to you. Right before holiday break your third grade year, she pulled you aside at dismissal and tucked him into your backpack. She told you to give him a hug whenever you needed to feel loved and she wasn’t around to give you a hug herself. Little did she know, that was the only gift you received that year.

Melissa placed him in the middle of the pillows, like the cherry on top, and went back downstairs to wake you for dinner. She sat on the arm of the couch and gently began to run her fingers through your hair. “You need to eat somethin’, sweetheart,” she whispered as your eyes fluttered open. You stretched and sat up, leaning your head against her leg.

“What time is it?”

“About 7:30. You’ve been through a lot the last 24 hours, figured you could use the rest. I got your room all set up for ya. I’ll heat up your plate and we can watch a movie before bed. How’s that sound?”

You rolled off the couch and rubbed your eyes. “Sounds good,” you yawned. You followed the redhead into the kitchen and sat at the counter. She warmed your plate in the microwave and placed it in front of you with a glass of water. You demolished your meal like you hadn’t eaten in days, complimenting her cooking after every other bite. You washed your dishes and then made your way back to the living room, joined by Melissa. She turned on one of your favorite comedy movies and watched the light return to your eyes a little more with each scene.

Sitting there, laughing at the stupid jokes on the screen with the closest thing you’ve ever had to a real mom, with a full stomach and a warm bed waiting for you upstairs, you realized something.

For the first time in your eighteen years of life, you were finally home.

[lorre-verie]

₊˚ʚ ᗢ. ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ ᴏʀ ᴅᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴛ. ᴛᴡᴏ ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

the unfortunate pair: ao’nung x fem! sully! reader

chapter summary: ao’nung is doing his best to hide his discomfort by someone else getting closer to you, and you’re hiding a couple of secrets yourself 🤭

warnings: cussing, jealousy, the teeniest TINIEST microscopic pinch of possessiveness ever (u can see it if u squint rlly hard)

word count: 3.9k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | masterlist

“I dare you to say one more thing about my swimming, you pompous ass,” you glared at Ao’nung as he moved through the water with obnoxious ease.

His self-satisfied smirk made you want to vomit. “Challenge accepted,” he cocked his head back to look down at you. 

It had been 5 days since you fainted, enough time for you to recover and enough time for you and your family to get acquainted with how things worked around Awa’atlu.

Your family was definitely concerned, your father was on the brink of calling Norm here to check up on you, but you insisted it was a one time thing. After all, it was probably just because you spent so many sickening days on your ikran.

Today Tsireya, Rotxo, and the tall blue frog had taken you and your siblings swimming to get you guys accustomed to the water, but he just wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Your tiny weak tail can barely support your movement, your body is rigid, your hair is all messy,” he went on and on about things that weren’t even related to your swimming, and you were this close to choking him out in front of his sister.

You were all floating in the middle of a reef, Tsireya and Rotxo were helping your siblings swim faster while the blue frog was berating your every move because he didn’t have anything better to do. 

As he kept going on about the most minuscule things in your appearance and habits, the corners of your lips turned up as you’d found a way to make him shut up, at least for a little while.

The only good thing about his unabating whining was that it went long enough for you to formulate a good response by the time he finished. 

“Your fingers flail around like you’re trying to conjure up a magic spell while you swim,” and as he paused, you’d found your moment to strike. 

“Wow, Ao’nung!” you batted your eyelashes, pretending to be appreciative.

“It sure sounds like you’ve been staring at me for a while now. Tell me again why you were paying such obsessively close attention to my every move?” your sweet smile concealed the way your eyes narrowed wickedly, watching him choke on his sentence. 

“That’s, that’s not..” he tried to explain himself, but you swam away to your siblings triumphantly, finally having gotten him off your back for at least an hour or two. 

“Having fun with your true love, sister?” Lo’ak chirped as you passed him in the water, his smile way too wide to be genuine.

You made a small gagging motion before Tsireya popped out in the water in front of him, and you heard her say softly, “Lo’ak? Did you get that?”

His brain malfunctioned, as he could only stammer out a “Yeah, yeah, I uhm, I got it.”

Your mouth curved into a cheeky smile that mirrored his. “I dunno, are you having fun with yours?” you dipped your head under the water to swim away, and as you did so you saw his submerged hand flip you off, causing your smile to grow wider.

Your twin brother was swimming laps on his own along the surface like a pro, and while he took a break you decided to surprise him. He stopped his motions, taking deep breaths with his back to you. 

You snuck up to him carefully, trying to make it seem like you were simply one with the waves underneath the ocean.

“BOO!” you slammed your hands onto his back, and the most laughable, unexpectedly shrill shout came from his mouth. 

“Y/N!” he scolded, his voice cracking. “That was,” you laughed in between your words, “That was awesome– Oh my gosh–”

He scowled at you, clearing his throat as he noticed the rest of his siblings and the metkayinans staring at him, also holding in their laughs. 

“Bro, you scream like a girl!” Lo’ak yelled. “Yeah, and you like a girl!” Neteyam rolled his eyes, amused by the flush creeping up Lo’ak’s cheeks, him whipping around to see if Tsireya had caught onto that.

Neteyam sighed, looking at you who was still laughing lightly. “To what do I owe this surprise visit from my favourite sister?” he emphasised the word “favourite” as if he was being sarcastic (he totally wasn’t). 

“Nothing much. Just wanted to know what you thought of our new home so far.” The words came off bitter on your tongue. You wanted to spit them out and wish them farewell, to never see them again. 

He exhaled sharply, “Huh. Well, it’s alright. But I suspect you’re adjusting well, hm?” he gave you a smirk, looking at Ao’nung who was talking to Rotxo behind you.

You turned to look in his direction, observing the pompous ass frog (Ao’nung). Your eyebrows scrunched together, eyes peering at his more relaxed posture.

You could only see the side of his face from here, but it was enough to see the clear difference when he talked to you versus when he talked to literally almost anyone else.

His shoulders were square, posture straight, and he exuded a natural sort of confidence, and not the assface kind. He gestured with his hands while speaking, your own fingers twitching when it dawned on you much larger his hands were. 

He maintained eye contact, listening attentively to what Rotxo had to say and nodding or smiling in response. He seemed genuinely interested in what his friend was saying, and your mind wandered, wondering what it would be like to be able to talk to him in the same manner.

You gulped subconsciously before turning around, meeting eyes with a smirking Neteyam. “...He looks like a disfigured frog,” were the words you vomited out. 

“Yeah, well you kinda have crushes on the strangest looking people.” he said with a teasing tone, an angry splash of water hitting him in the face right after.

“I do not have a crush on that idiot. He infuriates me!” you continued to vent to Neteyam about the frog’s condescending and foul behaviour the past few days, your frustration spilling out in a torrent of words. your brother only responding in satirical ‘mhm’s, ‘yeah’s, and ‘ok’s.

You were too invested in your ranting to feel the abnormal movement in the water, a small tap on your shoulder making your body freeze. You turned around and there he was, looking at you quizzically with a hint of a smirk on his face. Your brother (that skxawng) let out a low whistle before quickly disappearing into the water, leaving you all by your lonesome. 

“I suppose you enjoy talking about me then, little forest imp?” he smugly crossed his arms, enjoying watching you try to regain your composure. “Just shut up,” you huffed before swimming away as fast and as far as your arms and legs could take you.

You had to admit that as annoying as he was, Ao’nung always being there to make fun of you served as good fun for the day. But then again, on days that would have been perfectly fine on their own, he was a little piece of shit. 

Today was the day you would learn how to bond with and ride the ilu, something you and Kiri were both equally as excited about.

You stood next to her in the warm light of the day, the beautiful water engulfing your body waist-deep. 

Your siblings were all standing (Tuk clutching onto Neteyam like her life depended on it) in a circle around Ao’nung who was clicking his tongue, summoning a few ilu to assist us for the day.

“If you want to live here,” he made it a point to glance at you before saying his next statement, “you have to ride.”

Kiri groaned next to you, and you turned your head confusedly, “What’s up?” She gave you an unsmiling look, something close to pity in her eyes. “It’s nothing, just don't worry about it,” she waved you off, averting her attention to one of the ilu that had caught her eye.

Tsireya tread through the water to stand next to her older brother, using her finger to count the amount of omaticayans and the metkayinans to assign us into pairs.

“Alright, I will decide the pairs if that is okay with all of you?” she looked towards everyone, each person giving her a little nod of agreement.

“Okay!” she smiled. “Neteyam can be with Ao’nung,” you saw Neteyam roll his eyes, Ao’nung turning to look at his sister with accusatory eyes. Tsireya pretended not to notice, simply 

“Rotxo can be with Lo’ak,” who both seemed a little downcast at this (clearly they were expecting to be paired with someone else). 

“I will help Kiri and Tuk…” Tsireya’s eyes fell on you. “And Y/N can be with Veyä.” 

You tilted your head, the name unfamiliar to your ears. Who’s Veyä? I don’t see anyone else here, you thought to yourself as you looked at your twin, but his eyes didn’t meet yours, instead pointed behind you. 

You felt a sudden rush of a strange type of warmth as someone's hand landed softly on your bare shoulder, your body tensing in response.

“I apologise, where are my manners?” a female voice sounded from beside you, removing her hand from your shoulder. As you set your gaze upon her, you felt a sudden flutter in your chest. The woman before you was undeniably beautiful, and you found yourself momentarily lost in her captivating features. 

She was about Neteyam’s height, maybe a little shorter, and the smile on her face was cheshire-like. Short locks of dark curly hair fell in front of the right side of her face, the left side of her hair woven into tiny braids leading back into a tight ponytail.

“My name is Veyä Te Tiva Iyrr'ite,” she introduced herself, bowing her head slightly, yet her eyes never left yours. “I will help you with your ilu training,” she smiled. Your cheeks grew warm as you summoned the courage to introduce yourself to her. 

“My name is Y/N te Suli Neytiri’ite,” as the words left your mouth, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle curve of her lips and the gentle sparkle in her eyes.

However, what you didn’t notice was that a few feet away, a certain disfigured frog tensed up as he watched your interaction with Veyä, his jaw clenching in place when she kissed the back of your hand. 

“You know, brother, if you want to be paired with her, you could just say so,” Tsireya giggled from behind him, never seeing this side of her brother before. “No, it’s fine,” he said through gritted teeth. 

Veyä clicked her tongue, summoning who you assumed to be the ilu she rode most often.

“Come, Y/N. There is so much I want to show you,” she extended a hand. You took it reluctantly, hoisting yourself up onto the ilu and sitting as comfortably as you could behind her. 

She reached behind her back, taking your hands and guiding them around her slender waist. “You’re going to want to hang on tight for this,” she said, you being unable to respond because of the closeness. She took your silence as an ‘i’m ready.’ and you both took off into the sea, another ilu trailing closely behind. 

“That was painful to watch, dude.” Lo’ak chimed in behind Ao’nung, slapping his back.

He turned around, eyes shooting daggers into Lo’ak’s soul. He merely shrugged and trudged away in the water, unfazed by the frog’s hostility. 

“That’s it, just lean into it,” she offered gentle encouragement and reassurance, her hands pressing firmly on your back to fix your posture as you sat on the ilu. You relaxed under her expert guidance, feeling more confident with each passing moment. 

“You got it. Now try going for a spin,” she clapped, an exuberant smile on her face.

You inhaled, here goes nothing. You urged the creature to go, and you took off into the water. Fighting the pressure of the water pushing against your body you leaned forward as Veyä instructed, and you felt the pressure flow around your head, making it much easier for you to see. 

You took the time to admire the beauty of the underwater terrain before resurfacing, shaking the water out your hair. The urge to cough appeared in your chest, followed by a sharp pain as Veyä swam to you on her ilu.

You ducked your head behind the head of your ilu; out of her line of sight, coughing uncontrollably. You could taste the unmistakable metallic tang of blood when you closed your mouth, making your heart stop momentarily out of fear.

There was a small dissipating amount of your blood on the surface of the water, the redness contrasting greatly with the deep blue colour of the sea, the sight making your heart race.

“Y/N? Is something the matter?” Veyä asked you. You forced a thin lipped smile, shaking your head.

“No, I was just clearing my throat,” you swallowed, feeling the warm liquid disappear down your throat. Fear gnawed at your heart, but you dismissed it and started a casual conversation with Veyä, asking about what she liked to do in her free time.

The next day, during the point when it was always the hottest, Kiri led you to a little island where your brothers and the three amigos waited.

“Oh wow, how nice of you to finally join us, Y/N!” Lo’ak marvelled in mock surprise, squatting on the rough rocky floor. “We’ve been waiting for like an hour.”

Neteyam flicked his forehead, muttering something along the lines of “you seemed to really enjoy that hour, alone with your girlfriend” before Lo’ak hushed him quickly.

You gave an apologetic look to Tsireya and Rotxo. “Sorry, I was spending time with a friend and I lost track of time,” you said softly, Tsireya and Rotxo assuring you it was no big deal. 

Ao’nung snorted next to them, whether he was annoyed or amused you couldn’t decipher. “Yeah right, a ‘friend’” he put his hands up in quotation marks, making you wonder where he learned that from (there were certainly no quotation marks in na’vi).

Anyhow, you gave him your best stfu glare before sitting down in the only vacant spot, which conveniently was right next to Ao’nung. 

You felt the warmth of the rock on your legs as Tsireya started to explain how to best breathe, making you feel a little ridiculous as if you hadn’t even been born yet.

Nonetheless, you did as she said.

Inhale through the nose, inflate the stomach, hold, and let go.

“pfft,” the frog watched you, his eyes judging your every move. You took a deep breath in, a fiery flame lighting up in your abdomen as you remembered what Veyä had said to you previously that day.

You blow a breath out before tilting your head in his direction condescendingly. “Ao’nung,” you sigh, giving him a look of sympathy. 

“I know that everything I do is captivating, but I’m not sure that I’m ready for a stalker just yet,” you smile sinisterly, watching his nonexistent eyebrows rise, your response unexpected.

The rest of the group ignored you both, either sighing, smiling brightly (Tsireya) or rolling their eyes, not wanting to get involved in your antics. “There they go again,” Neteyam huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Captivating? That’s a really strange way to pronounce vomit-inducing,” he lifted his chin up, leaning back to allow his arms to support his upper body.

“Mmm okay, so what? I can’t breathe right or something?” you gave him an eye roll, straightening your back. “Your words, not mine, forest imp.” 

“Then teach me, you intolerable shit piñata,” you said, the last words leaving your mouth in english.

Kiri and Lo’ak covered their mouths to keep themselves from bursting out into laughter, your older brother shaking his head but unable to stop the small smirk that crept up onto his face.

Tsireya and Rotxo shrugged, not really caring what you meant. But Ao’nung? Boy, was he dumbfounded.

“What?” 

“I said, you’re an intolerable shit piñata.”

“...What is s- ..shi…shit?” he sputtered, struggling to make the word sound how you said it. “You should be more concerned about what a piñata is,” you smiled grimly, taking in a deep breath, imagining an Ao’nung shaped pinata filled with….you know.

“Tell me what it means, Y/N,” he urged you, the smallest hint of desperation in his voice. Your lips parted at hearing him call you your name for once. It was always forest imp or some other crude amalgamate of sloppily stuck together words.

“Well if you’re so desperate,” you turned your body towards him, a fake smile plastered on your face. “Teach me how to do this properly, and then I’ll tell you what it means.”

He paused as if to consider, before giving you a slight nod.

You readied yourself, taking in a deep breath and closing your eyes. The air flowed through your airway, resting in your lungs. “No,” you felt a warm hand press on your stomach, and your breath hitched.

His touch was gentle, yet firm, and the warmth of his palm seeped into your skin, spreading a comforting yet alien sensation throughout your body.

“Try again,” he said softly, the sound of his voice like this running a shiver down your spine. You tried not to make it obvious you were flustered, pursing your lips together. 

You inhaled again, your shoulders rising with the inflation of your chest. His hands lifted up from your stomach, one of his fingers grazing your top before they landed on your shoulders.

“Don’t move your shoulders,” his voice was tender, a big difference from his usual sharp tone. “Try again, inflate the stomach and not the chest,” he instructed. 

His hands felt like cushy pads on your shoulders, and you struggled to not melt into the strangely comfortable contact. You did as he instructed, feeling your stomach get bigger as you inhaled.

“Good, now hold it for as long as you can,” he said, his hands still on your shoulders for unexplainable reasons.

Neteyam and Lo’ak glowered at your position, the metkayinan boy staring deeply at your face as you kept your eyes shut. “Who does that guy think he is?” Lo’ak hissed silently. 

“He’s getting so touchy with her all of a sudden. In front of us, too,” Neteyam agreed, though he had an inkling that Ao’nung knew they were imagining his sudden, violent death.

Kiri sat there unbothered, choosing not to pay any mind to you both and instead imagining the hundred other things she could be doing. 

“Lo’ak, focus,” Tsireya clapped her hands in front of Lo’ak to get his attention. “Right, sorry,” he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, continuing with the breathing exercise. 

You felt your lungs burning, finally exhaling to relieve the pain, your eyes adjusting to the light when you finally opened them. “That was….” Ao’nung paused, taking his hands off your shoulders. 

They still felt warm. 

“It was alright,” he said nonchalantly. “You need more practice though,” he stood up, walking to the shore of the tiny island, clicking to summon his ilu with you looking at him in confusion.

“Well? Are you going to come along or are you just going to stand there and look dumb?” 

You quickly got up, hurrying to try and summon an ilu by making similar clicking noises, Ao’nung laughing at your attempt. An ilu got your point, in the end.

He took you to a spot closer to Awa’atlu, a shell in his hands as he floated in front of you in the water.

“I’m going to let this shell sink, and you’re going to take it from the bottom of the sea floor and bring it back up to me,” he explained. 

You nodded, not thinking much of the activity. He smirked, dropping the shell into the sea with a plop!

“Okay, go fetch.” 

Your eyes narrowed, realising that this wasn’t really an activity suited for two na’vi, but rather a na’vi and their 'companion'.

“You never wanted to help me did you?” you groaned, about to swim away from the assface. The sudden tug of your hand in his stopped you.

He gave you an eye roll. “This is a normal practice, calm down. Adults use it to train younger children. But in your case, you haven’t even been born yet,” he joked, amused by your scowl as you settled down, returning to your former position and shaking his hand off yours. 

After submerging his head briefly in the water, he suggested, “On second thought, perhaps we should find a shallower area. This might be too deep for you.” 

“I can do it,” you said confidently. You wanted to prove to him you were not to be underestimated. 

“Are you sure? It's pretty far.” he says, the tiniest pinch of concern leaving his lips, but you were too focused on taking a deep breath in to notice. Without answering him, you dive into the water, the coolness enveloping you.

You search with your eyes for the shell, using your arms to propel you deeper into the water. And there it is, resting on the bottom of the sea floor, the purple shell glistening in all its glory, practically whispering into your ear for you to save it. 

As you descended, you felt the pressure building in your ears, equalising it with a quick pinch of your nose. You made a grab for the purple shell, but as you got closer, you realised that it was just out of reach. You kicked your legs harshly against the water and reached out again, but your lungs started to burn, your vision blurring. 

Despite your body's signals screaming at you to resurface, you fought to stay down, desperate to retrieve the shell. You tried again, grasping at empty water, your movements becoming sluggish and your arms feeling heavier by the second. 

You felt your consciousness starting to fade, but you pushed on stubbornly, determined to succeed. Eventually, though, your body succumbed to the lack of air, and you passed out in the water, sinking to the bottom, the shell just out of reach.

“Where is she?” Ao’nung muttered to himself, deciding to submerge his head in the water again.

His eyes widened in a panic when he couldn’t see you swimming up to him and without a second thought, he dove down to find you. His eyes landed upon your unconscious body, and he quickly scooped you up in his arms, bringing you up to the surface.

BONUS (wonder what Veyä told reader that spurred her to continue her daily dose of insulting ao'nung instead of ignoring him?):

“Veyä, good morning. Was there a specific reason you called me over here?” you gave her a small smile, sitting on the sand next to her. 

“Not really, just wanted to clear up something.” she chuckled a little, head turning to look at you. “Tsireya called me over yesterday to help you with the ilu because she said and I quote, ‘my brother needs to stop being a coward’”

Huh? Huh??????

“Wait so– The sudden intimacy and the kissing the back of my hand thing, that was to make Ao’nung feel jealous?” you asked her, shell shocked. 

“Not really, I do that to almost every pretty girl I see,” she winked at you, taking pleasure in seeing your ears flush purple. 

“He’s a lucky man, that one.” Veyä stood up, offering you her hand.

“What? We’re not together. We won’t ever be together. Ever. Yuck. I don’t know why everyone keeps thinking that,” you took her hand, pulling yourself up.

“Well then, you might be surprised by what Eywa has planned out for the two of you.”

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | masterlist

P.S I’M EYWA 

i wanted to get this out asap so i don’t lose my relevance 💔 and because i wanted to. thank u guys so much for all the love you showed part 1, i hope that this part is just as satisfactory 💗💗💗💗💗 i really did want to make Veyä a more rounded out character rather than just a temporary plot device, but i decided it wouldn’t mesh well with what i had planned for the rest of the story. I hope she made u giggle in your heart at the very least!

Taglist: @eywas-heir @elegantkidfansoul @yeosxxx @whoreforpomegranates @fanboyluvr @thecrazyswamp @shkudss @stvrligghtt @ratchetprime211 @dearstell @littlecrisisworld @itssomeonereading @goodiesinthecloset21 @ilovejakesullysdick @larkkyoris @opalescentblog @lovedbychoi @plzfeedmebread @holysaladapricothero

note: usernames in red are the ones I couldn't tag, so sorry 😭

[vintagebunnies]

as above, so below

part i | part ii

eddie munson x succubus!fem!reader

Eddie summons you back, but this time it’s for revenge. (3.9k)

mean dom eddie, rough sex, choking, hair pulling, face slapping, spitting, succubus reader, fem reader, demon sex, mentions of gore (nothing happens), handcuffs, slight dacryphilia, mdni 18+!

ཐི♡ཋྀ

It’s been about a week since Eddie has last seen you. All that was left of you were the everlasting marks around his body, and the smoky message left on the bathroom mirror.

Well, the red and purple surrounding his neck and collarbones are lasting a lot longer than your little message. As soon as he saw the foreign words on his mirror, he immediately wiped them away. Not wanting Wayne to see it, but also how the hell would he explain that?

The book he checked out of the library needed to be sent back soon, only one more day with the book in his ownership. In its old and crumbling glory, it was sitting right on top of his desk. He kept eyeing it as if it’d grow legs and walk away.

With the way things played out that night, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Eddie knew you were dangerous. The strength you showed that night was unrivaled, you were capable of doing whatever you pleased. Hell, you could’ve fucking killed him! But you didn’t.

That’s what confused him the most—you are a supernatural being who spared his life—why him? Was it because he summoned you? Did you find him interesting? What made you choose Eddie and let him live?

As scary as Eddie looked, he didn’t know much about demons or anything paranormal, so it was just odd to him. The main source of his knowledge about this kind of stuff was just from horror movies. Fiction. Everyone knew those movies were fake, made straight from the glitz and glam of Hollywood.

But he couldn’t help himself from constantly thinking about you. He would spend hours in his room just analyzing the abundance of marks left on his pale skin.

Eddie was sitting on his bed, eyeing the book.

He knew he was stupid for what he was about to do, but he couldn’t stop thinking of all of the pain and pleasure he received that night.

Yeah, you were dangerous or whatever, but fuck, did he miss you.

He stood up from his bed after being lost in thought, heading straight for the book. Eddie grabbed the book but didn’t immediately open it, instead just analyzed the front cover.

Eddie thought back to the day at the library. When he first came up with the idea of partaking in a ritual, it was supposed to be harmless fun. He didn’t expect for what happened to actually happen.

He opened to the front page of the book, the contents of each chapter laid out in front of him on the yellowing pages.

The dog eared page was still marked.

With that page still being partially unread, since he only read about how to actually perform the ritual, he decided it was time to find out what you really were.

Eddie made his way back over to his bed, not paying attention to his surroundings.

“What’cha got there boy?” Wayne asked, making Eddie jump.

“Shit!” Eddie was so spooked by Wayne’s sudden appearance, he stubbed his toe right on the legs of his bed frame.

From the adrenaline of being snuck up on, he dropped his book, and it landed with the cover right side up, exposing the title of it to Wayne.

Wayne never was one to snoop, knowing Eddie was a grown adult and had the right to privacy. But he couldn’t help being curious on what Eddie was getting up to.

Wayne grabbed the book off of the floor, reading the title aloud. “The Grand Grimoire,” Immediately noticing the illustrated devil on the title, he stared Eddie down, who was still cradling his sore toe.

“D’you mind telling me why you have this?” He flipped the open book towards Eddie, who was now derived from any color in his face.

“Uh- it’s uh, just for research. Y’know, just a little curious,” Eddie gave Wayne an awkward chuckle, trying to lie his way out of it. But Wayne wasn’t stupid. He could see right through Eddie like he was transparent.

“Boy, I don’t know how dense you think I am, but why the hell would you need research on this?” Wayne shook the book around in his hand, trying to enunciate his point. “Listen, you’re old enough to know better. Don’t be messin’ around with this. Return it.” He gave Eddie a stern look.

Eddie knew Wayne was right, but was he gonna listen? No.

“I’ll uh, return it tomorrow. Promise. The library is closed by now, so I kinda have’ta wait,” Eddie wasn’t planning on Wayne finding out about this at all, so he’s at a complete loss for words.

“You better. Came in here to tell ya I’m leaving now, but then I saw this. Just please, think twice before you do this kinda stuff.” With that, Wayne turned to leave.

“Yeah, yeah of course! Don’t worry,” Eddie followed Wayne out into the living area, seeing him out.

Eddie and Wayne bid their farewells to each other, Wayne giving Eddie a hard-nosed stare as he walked out of the trailer.

As soon as Eddie shut the steel door, he exhaled a big breath. Not realizing he was even holding it.

His heart was beating a mile a minute. There was a reason why he got the book when Wayne wasn’t home, afraid of this interaction.

After all, Wayne was right. Eddie shouldn’t be messing with stuff like this, it’s too dangerous and you never know what you might conjure.

Eddie walked back into his bedroom, staring hard at the book that was now on his bed. He had to take a moment to think about it, if he should still try to get into contact with you again.

Fuck it.

He was gonna do it no matter what anyone says, he knows the risks. But he also knows the good that’ll come out of this. Seeing you, in all of your dangerous ways.

He could feel himself get hard again from the thought of you.

“Jesus.” Eddie whispered to himself, he felt like a hormonal teenager again. Getting aroused from the mere thought of you, to the thought of your body and your voice.

God, your voice.

Your voice was painfully sweet sounding. The way you spoke to him. The way your sharp teeth gleamed under the warm candlelight every time you opened your mouth.

This was it.

Eddie was going to perform the ritual whether Wayne liked it or not.

He hated disobeying Wayne, but he knew to be cautious. Or cautiously stupid.

Eddie picked up the book and finally thought it was time to stop beating around the bush and just do it.

He finished setting everything up, now sitting in the center of the salt pentagram, open book in hand, reading over the pages one last time.

Eddie took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to ground himself. He was more nervous this time around than he was the last time. Tense from the possible outcome.

He repeated the trigger words over and over for a solid minute. Nothing. It was taking a lot longer than it did the last time, you showed up almost immediately last week.

Eddie was constantly checking around his room, seeing if you were anywhere to be seen. He even reread the words that were supposed to evoke you, nothing was wrong.

He tried it once more, and all he got was a few candles to flicker.

Eddie started to grow frustrated, rubbing his hands down his face.

“Fuck this shit.” Eddie was fed up. It was a bunch of bullshit. At this point Eddie was sure he came home obliterated last week and gave himself the scare with the message on the bathroom mirror.

The marks on his body? Probably some shitty hookup.

He stood up and blew out all of the candles, swept up all of the salt, and he chucked the book across the room making it leave a resounding thud against the plaster walls.

Eddie doesn’t know why he was so mad, he always believed in the supernatural and paranormal beings, but now he thinks it was all just bogus. All glorified in the movies.

Sitting back onto his bed, the old rusty springs creaking under his weight, he rested his head in his hands.

You were just a figment of his imagination, something he made up in a fake fantasy world when he was horny just so he can get himself off.

He decided it was time to just forget about you and everything, and just sleep.

Eddie turned off all of his bedroom lights and just laid back in bed, staring up at the pitch black ceiling.

At first he thought there was a chance that you were real, that what he experienced was real. But it just doesn’t add up, so he made every scenario he possibly could to explain how it was all fraud. The book was a fraud.

He did everything in the ritual the same as he did the last time, so there was no explanation he could give himself to point at the book giving answers or demon summoning even being existent.

Eddie finally gave up fighting with his thoughts and just closed his eyes, ready to just ignore this all.

Almost falling asleep, he was shivering because of the room dropping about ten degrees. There was cold air that just started to surround his body, like a sheet of ice forming over water in winter.

He pulled his blankets around himself tighter, hoping to fight off the freezing air.

The warmth from the blanket wasn’t helping, now the wintry air was coming from under the blanket. Eddie looked around from where he was faced on the side of the bed, trying to find the culprit of what was making him frigid.

Eddie decided that it was probably air coming from the open door to his bedroom, maybe a window was open somewhere out in the living area. So he turned over. But right as he did so, he felt his heart drop.

There you were.

Sitting on the right side of his bed, head resting in your hand from your arm that was propped up on your elbow.

That’s why it was cold.

Eddie tried pinching himself, pulling his hair, anything that could potentially wake him up from a dream. This was real this time.

You were right in front of his very eyes, and very real.

“Salve, mortalis.” You were giving him a malicious smile, but your inky black eyes were looking up at him with affection.

All Eddie could do was stare at you, you scared the everloving shit out of him, showing up like that. But he was thrilled to see you again.

“I can feel your eyes burning into me, Eddie.” Your voice was still as soft as ever. Like a fuzzy warm blanket fresh out of the dryer.

Eddie sat up, facing himself towards you. You sat up too, leaning up on your elbows and sitting with your knees slightly bent in front of you

“You’re back.” Eddie says incredulously. “I didn’t think you were going to come back, you didn’t show up before.”

“O mortalem miserum, you missed me,” Your tone was dripping in sarcasm, clearly amused.

“Why didn’t you show up?” Eddie was tired of your constant laid back attitude, as if you weren’t a fucking demon. “Isn’t that like, your fucking job? To show up when someone performs this shit ritual?” Eddie was infuriated, he doesn’t know why he felt such malice towards you this time.

You weren’t some chick from the bar, waiting to get fucked by the next rockstar to cross your path. You were a disciple of the devil!

Your face dropped to something akin to anger, clearly showing your distaste of his tones. “How dare you speak to me like that, mortal?” You sat up. “After I gave you such pleasure, you treat me like this.”

Sitting up on your knees, you crawled closer to Eddie. “You should be punished, stultum hominem.”

You were practically nose to nose with Eddie now, but what came next is what shocked him the most. You suddenly lunged, slapping Eddie hard across the face then pinning him down to his stained sheets by his neck.

Eddie gasped, waiting for you to just snap his neck, maybe cut right into his jugular, watch him choke on his own blood.

Something else caught your attention though, making you smile wickedly.

You could feel Eddie’s cock grow hard under you from where you were straddling his lap, making you squeeze his neck.

Eddie’s eyes rolled back into his head from the pressure right on his larynx. He felt disgusting for being turned on. This was probably how he’d get killed, strangled to death because he was thinking with the wrong head.

Fortunately, you weren’t planning on killing him tonight, releasing your grip on his neck and putting your hand right on his cheek, the cheek where your hand print is starting to flourish with red.

“Silly man, getting aroused from pain,” You whispered the last part. “What shall I do with you?” You tilted your head like a curious dog, similar to Eddie’s puppy dog eyes staring right back at you.

“You could um- start by getting off of me,” Even Eddie was surprised by his sudden boldness, if this was his first time meeting you he wouldn’t have dared to say something like that.

But all you did was laugh, a maniacal laugh. “Ut obliviscatur qui in crimen videris.” Your voice lowered into a deeper octave, leaning down to be face to face with Eddie.

Eddie still has no clue what you said, but it just provoked him to tease you more. “Yeah, I’m not your bitch,” He suddenly switched positions, pushing you off of him to now be under him, the movement made you let out a gasp, eliciting a smile out of Eddie from catching you off guard. “But tonight you will be.”

He was leant over you, his breath fanning over your ear.

Eddie moved his hand to rest over your throat, identical to the way yours was before.

He nibbled on the skin right under your ear, soothing the bite with a swipe of his tongue. You closed your eyes and let out a quiet groan from the sensation.

Eddie squeezed his hand tighter around your throat, not even sure if it’s doing anything to control your breathing. Even if it didn’t, it still made your breathing slightly accelerate.

He started to kiss from your jaw down to your neck. “I’m,” Kiss. “Going to,” Another kiss. “Fuck you stupid.” Bite.

Eddie could feel your legs move from where they were pinned under him, he was sat right over your lap just like how you were sat over his. He had you completely trapped under him.

He let go of your neck, not even seeing you take a deep inhale to catch your breath.

Slowly sitting up from his position, he reared his hand back and slapped you right in the face, just like what you did to him. The momentum from the slap made your head move to the side. You had a grin on your face from the sudden act of dominance from Eddie, a complete different contrast to how he was the last time.

You were biting your lip when you went to face him again, but when you went to look at him he was standing up from his bed, going towards the silver handcuffs hanging on his wall.

He slowly sauntered back over to the bed, looking down at the handcuffs in this hand, then back at you. “You’re not going to use your hands, I’ve had enough of you having your way with me.” When he got closer to where your head was resting on the bed, he grabbed both of your hands, and cuffed them to the bedpost above your head.

You were just staring up at him with this sick look on your face, clearly enjoying every second of this. You had an everlasting smirk engraved on your face.

“Fac tibi pessimi.” You whispered.

Eddie gave you a small smack on the side of your face, not enough to rear your head to the side but enough to catch your attention. “Shut the fuck up.”

He crawled back onto the bed, slowly stripping off his clothes as he did so. Eddie moved to spread your legs to bracket his hips, hands right on the underside of your knees.

Eddie grasped his cock and tapped it right over your dripping pussy, making your hips jump from the heaviness of it.

“I’m not giving you the satisfaction of fucking you yet,” He dropped your legs back onto the bed. “You’re going to suck my cock.” As Eddie said that, he made his way to where your head was resting, his leaking cock now leveled with your mouth.

“Open your fucking mouth, whore.” His hand gripped the top of your scalp, moving your head side to side trying to enunciate his point.

You obliged, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. Eddie didn’t waste any time, and shoved his entire length down your throat.

Just like the first time you sucked him off, you didn’t gag. Taking him all the way to the hilt with no issue.

“Yeah—mm—take my fucking cock,” Eddie groaned. He had an unyielding grip on your hair, guiding your head up and down.

You were slobbering all over his dick, but you fucking loved it. The roughness, and messiness of it all was perfect. You never expected him to snap, he was terrified of you, you can sense it. But you wanted him to use you, use your body like it’s a temple. Giving him all the pleasure he desires.

“Shit—“ Eddie’s voice was getting weak, indicating he was close to his release so you sucked harder, your cheeks hollowing. “Fucking dirty slut,” He pulled out of your mouth, slapping you across the face.

Eddie grabbed your jaw before you could face the impact of his slap, tucking his thumb into your mouth right behind your teeth, spitting in your mouth, then forcing your mouth shut. Before you could even swallow, Eddie spit right over your closed mouth, then smearing it across the bottom half of your face.

“Yeah? You like being treated like this? Like being used?” You nodded with a smile on your face, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue back out. Eddie spit right back into your open mouth, bending down to bite the side of your neck.

You gasped and pulled on your binds. You knew if you wanted to, you could easily snap the metal chains holding the cuffs together, but you were also curious to see where he’d take this.

Eddie trailed kisses down to your chest, biting the plush skin around your breast, then leaving a bite right over your nipple making you moan aloud. Eddie slapped your tit in retaliation, watching the flesh jiggle from the force.

Eddie crawled back down so now he was back to being right in between your legs. He sat up straight and spit right onto your cunt, then taking his fingers and forcefully spreading it around your clit.

“Oh— Eddie,” You gasped.

“Hm? It’s Eddie now? What about the other names you called me before, huh?” He was looking down at you from the slope of his nose.

Eddie dragged his middle and index finger towards your dripping hole, and pushed them both in with no resistance, making your legs push against your chest and knocking your knees together.

You threw your head back from the pressure and the pleasure, your mouth opening to make way for quiet moans.

Eddie‘s pace gradually got faster, adding his thumb in the mix to rub your clit.

You could feel your release hurriedly coming closer, making your cunt clench and convulse over Eddie’s fingers.

“Yeah, fucking squirt all over me bitch,” Eddie seethed through gritted teeth, pulling his fingers out of your cunt with a wet squelch and landing a few slaps over your soaked clit.

Eddie’s harsh words and his onslaught on your cunt made your release spray all over his pelvis, and you let out a scream in response.

Your legs were continuously shaking from his rough fingers, and your breathing grew heavy.

“I’m not fucking done with you.” Eddie spread your legs wider, positioning himself right in between them and rubbing his hard cock over your quivering cunt, smearing your release.

Eddie tapped the tip of his dick over your swollen clit, making your hips jump away from the sensation.

He gave you no reprieve before he was shoving his entire length into your sore cunt, making you moan out loud and your brow furrow.

Eddie grabbed onto your neck with his right hand, slapping you across the face with his left.

His starting pace was furious. Not giving your cunt a break, slamming in and out of you, making you let out a moan with each thrust.

Eddie’s hand squeezed around your neck as your cunt clenched around his cock, making him groan.

“Fuck yeah—squeeze my cock you slut,” His words were shakey from his pace and your quick submission. Eddie looked down at your face; your cheek was a dark red from how many times he’s slapped you, your chin was shiny with yours and Eddie’s mixed saliva, and your eyes were squinted from his cock.

You felt like Eddie’s cock was jabbing your cervix, making tears spring in the corner of your eyes. This didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie, he smiled at the thought of making you cry just like how you made him.

“Cry me a fucking river, you did this to yourself.” Eddie gripped the underside of your thighs, pushing them both to your chest, contorting your body.

The new position made Eddie push deeper into your warm walls, hitting that spot perfectly.

You bit your lip so hard you drew blood, squeezing your eyes shut making the tears fall down your cheeks. Eddie bent down over you, licking the tears off your face then landing a slap on your thigh, close to your ass.

The feeling of Eddie’s palm slapping you made you arch your back, letting out garbled moans and cumming on his cock a second time.

“Cum in me Eddie, quaeso.” You were staring up at him with glassy eyes, and a flushed face.

Your demand made Eddie sit up straight, thrusting into you harder and grinding his cock in your spent hole.

It wasn’t long before Eddie was cumming inside of you, a dam bursting and filling you to the brim with his warm spend. Eddie gave a few more rough thrusts into your sopping cunt, riding out his orgasm.

He leant down over you, holding himself up with his hand next to your head, trying to catch his breath.

Eddie completely forgot about the cuffs that were wrapped around your wrists until he heard the snap of the chains holding them together snap. He looked up from his position and saw that you broke out of them, trailing your hands up and down his back and petting his hair, letting him come down from the high.

Eddie didn’t even bat an eye, just collapsed back over you enjoying the warmth of contact with another.

A few minutes passed, Eddie was passed out and you were able to move yourself without waking him up.

Eddie was laying on his stomach, his hair all over the place and damp from sweat. He looked truly beautiful. You gave a genuine smile from how peaceful he looked.

Before leaving you made sure to leave a small kiss on the back of his head.

Making sure to leave a note that said, “Iterum revertar, Eddie.”

ཐི♡ཋྀ

[ohforficsakelibrary]

The Margay: Chapter 6

If You're Both Lying to Me, I Swear

prev / series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC

Word Count: ~3.9K

Rating: Explicit 18+ / mirror sex, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, unprotected piv, biting, creampie, creampie eating, come swapping / tw for brief description of a sniper shot / Minors DNI

A/N: Audrey earns her call sign. Frankie takes advantage of the bathroom mirror.

Y'all this started as a cheeky little idea that dissolved into filth. These two have a mind of their own they just do this I am so sorry.

Their fifth job out is easy enough. 

But their fifth job out comes with the most ridiculous story.

Recover a hard drive from a small compound in Belize. Drive contains sensitive information including the identities of covert American and Canadian operatives in the country, including a young recruit from Davis’ organization.

The mark is an avid hunter, shipped off to Kenya this morning, passport check, flight manifest, and an operative at the gate confirmed he’s gone.

The mark is also not particularly smart. Intel says he only left one guy guarding the house while he’s away—drive is in the basement.

And so Frankie and Santiago move in light at dusk, covering the mile on foot from where Audrey’s holding the high ground.

Breaching the compound is as easy as hopping over a wall. Santi attaches a small device to the nearest security camera while staying out of its line of sight and waits for Audrey's confirmation that she has control over the system.

Frankie picks the lock once they have the all-clear and the boys run one silent sweep through the house, guard noticeably absent, before they meet again in the office.

“Audrey, you’re not gonna believe this,” Santi’s voice finally crackles over comms.

“Try me, Pope.”

“Dude’s got a fuckin moose in here.”

“Bullshit.”

“Uhh, no,” Frankie chimes in, “theres’s a taxidermy moose in his office. The whole thing.”

“It’s fuckin’ huge,” Santiago whispers.

“If you’re both lying to me, I swear…”

Her phone buzzes and it’s a picture of Santi with his arm hiked up around the moose’s neck, preserved exotic game littering the wall and bookcase in the background.

She briefly considers having a serious conversation with Davis about having a souvenir shipped out.

“Pet his nose for me,” she tells them both.

Frankie sends a selfie, his massive hand dwarfed by the animal’s snout.

“Alright boys, you’ve made me sufficiently jealous. Keep moving.”

She tracks them through the windows with her rifle scope, occasionally switching to the FLIR heat sensor to check the perimeter.

They both fan out in opposite directions, searching for basement access before meeting in the office again.

“If there’s a basement, we haven’t found it yet.” Santi says over coms while Fish tests the bookshelves for a hidden door. “No part of the layout that doesn’t make sense, no weird airflow issues. We may have to call it and reassess.”

“Alright well hurry up and wrap, I don’t have the clearest view in there.” She can see them from the chest up but they’re constantly disappearing and reappearing. 

Ironically, she suspects it’s because of the moose.

She quickly checks the pictures Frankie sent to figure out exactly what she’s staring at. Santi's picture has bookshelves to the left and the office windows behind him, but she’s looking through the windows in the living room, perpendicular to those.

She checks Frankie’s and there’s enough to see the kitchen lights just over the curve of the animal’s head.

She re-orients herself with that understanding through her scope before checking the FLIR again. She can see their heat signatures clearly, but there’s the slightest anomaly in what should be the kitchen. Not unusual, save for the fact that it wasn’t there before. She watches for a fraction of a second longer before flipping back to the scope. 

Movement.

“Boys, hit the deck.”

They both drop to the floor and there’s glass breaking followed by a heavy thud. Immediately the men are both on their feet, rifles raised.

There’s a body in the kitchen with a hole between the eyes. 

Santi kicks the semi-automatic the man was holding out of reach before they both proceed in opposite directions around the house again, deeming it clear when they meet back in the kitchen.

“Anything on FLIR, Aud?” Frankie asks.

“Nothing. But the basement entrance is in there. Don’t rip it up, he came through easy without either of you hearing, meaning it’s not behind anything that would make noise.”

Frankie and Santiago sweep the kitchen again, opening cabinets that are too squeaky. A pantry that’s too packed. 

Too packed until Frankie spots a can that looks far older than the ones around it.

“Got it,” Fish calls back as he presses the can lid and the back of the pantry swings open. Santi’s hand on his shoulder is his cue to proceed.

“I’ll hold up here, but remember, I can’t see or hear you down there. I’ll monitor the traffic but watch for alarms.” She glances down at the tablet that registers electronic chatter coming from the house.

It’s ten minutes of torture before they resurface.

“Aud?” Crackles over coms in Frankie’s voice. “We got it.”

“Beautiful. No spikes in the chatter so you should still be clear, but try not to stick around.”

“One second,” Santi replies and it grates on her. She checks the heat scope again before flipping back to her rifle. “Frankie, this guy’s about your height?” She hears Pope ask.

“Yeah.”

She sees Santiago’s back briefly against the living room window that now sports a hole high on the pane above him.

“Alright, we’re heading to you.” Santi finally complies. 

She watches until they’re half a mile from the house before packing her gear up and slipping behind the driver’s seat, still tracking them through FLIR. 

When they’re 20 meters out she starts the engine. 

As soon as both doors slam, she hits the gas.

“Thanks for that,” Santi starts.

“That’s why I’m here. Sure it’s the right drive?”

“Yeah,” Frankie pats his backpack in the backseat.

“When we get back I’ve got something to show you.” Santiago’s got a grin on his face. Audrey meets Frankie’s eyes in the mirror. 

She dares to say the look on his face is one of pride but she doesn’t have time for that now. 

She pulls the Land Rover into town and Santiago hands the drive off to her contact as Frankie watches their six. Audrey calls headquarters to confirm the drop and authorize cleanup. 

_____

She pours herself gin on the rocks when they’re back in her room.

They all have their own rooms spread out across the hotel and yet somehow they always end up in hers.

“You’re not gonna fucking believe this,” Santiago pulls out his phone and stands at her side, opening his camera roll. Frankie comes to join them, watching over her shoulder and stealing a sip from her glass.

Santiago holds up the screen so the three of them can see. 

“That was your shot.”

It’s taken from up high, camera angled down to match the bullet’s trajectory.

She’s staring at Frankie through the brow tines of moose antlers.

“You nailed that shot through the biggest fuckin’ rack of antlers I’ve ever seen.”

“From a mile away,” Frankie adds.

“Through night vision,” Santi claps her on the back. “Well done, Moose.”

“This is a joke.” Is all she can bring herself to say.

“‘S not.” Santiago steals a sip from her glass now.

“No, you both clearly wanted me to have a call sign and when you saw the opportunity you took it.”

“Then get a copy of the cleanup report when it’s in. See for yourself.” Santi sets her glass on the desk.

She holds Santi’s phone, mouth open in incredulity until Frankie mashes his nose into her cheek. She can feel the smile on his lips.

“Well done, Moose,” Frankie echoes, giving her a kiss and handing back her gin before taking a seat at the foot of her bed.

“Get cleaned up, we’re taking you out dancing tonight. It’s tradition.” Santi says from the bathroom as he starts the shower, “I’ll send you that picture.”

“Well, shit.” She whispers to herself as she hands back Santiago’s phone.

“You gonna let me see the moose now?” Pope needles, arms crossed against his chest as he flops down next to Fish.

“No, I’ll just have Frankie send you a picture the next time he hits it from behind,” she quips as she disappears into the bathroom. Frankie’s eyes fly wide and he holds his hands up in surrender because whatever this is has nothing to do with him.

“That’s fine,” he smacks Frankie on the arm with the back of his hand, “just don’t get your dick in the picture, it ruins the illusion.”

“Jesus Christ, Pope.”

_____

Five hours later, a tequila-warm Frankie sidles up behind where Audrey is removing her eye makeup in the bathroom mirror. His chest molds to her back as he palms her hips, pulling her back against him. 

Frankie buries his nose in her hair and meets her eyes in the mirror.

“You’re an amazing dancer, Aud.” He holds her hips, swaying her gently. Pressing the bulge in his trousers against the curve of her ass.

“You’ve got good hips yourself, Morales,” she drops the black-smudged cotton pad into the trash as one of Frankie’s hands skates up over her collarbone, gently cupping her jaw to angle her face back towards his.

She meets his lips with her eyes closed, but Frankie keeps his locked on the mirror, watching tendons in her neck work in the low, golden light.

“Help me out of this?” She whispers against his lips.

He kisses her again. “Happy to,” murmured against her mouth.

Frankie brushes her curls from the back of her neck, sliding the zipper of her dress down the line of her vertebrae, slipping his hands between fabric and skin and letting it fall.

He trails his fingertips up her sides, featherlight, before reaching to knead her breasts in his palms. 

“You ever seen a moose, Aud?” He murmurs against the tattoo on her shoulder as he snaps open the clasp of her bra and slips it down her arms. Warm hands replace it before Frankie teases one nipple between his index and middle fingers.

“Two,” her voice is breathy from his touch. “On a road trip through Vermont. Take your shirt off. I want to feel you.”

“I’ve never seen one before today,” he says as he complies, pressing his heated chest flush against her back. 

“They’re beautiful things, I’ll give you that,” he continues, nuzzling her neck, hands rubbing her lower stomach, holding her body against him. “Their noses are so soft,” lips ghosting over her neck, palms slipping under the waistband of her underwear to fit warm over her hip bones. “I think I’ve only ever felt one thing softer in my entire life,” he murmurs.

He cups her whole mound with one palm and she gasps, hips bucking back against him.

“Yeahhh,” he sighs, nibbling on her ear with a smile. “This pretty pussy is the softest thing I’ve ever felt.”

And Audrey grins, head falling back into the curve of his shoulder as Frankie’s fingers rub soft circles against her clit. He parts her lips with two fingers, urging her open, thumb catching on her clit as he strokes over her slit where she’s wet for him already.

“Are you particularly attached to these?” He snaps the waistband of her thong against her hip with his left hand.

“Never been particularly attached to clothes,” she gasps, gripping the basin of the sink. 

His fingers have picked up speed over her clit. 

“‘Kay,” he murmurs, teeth sinking into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “Gonna fuck you in front of this mirror as soon as I’m done here.”

She moans.

“Gonna pump you so full of me,” he trails his nose up her neck to nip at her ear, “gonna watch it drip out.”

And he says it so matter-of-factly that she breaks with a gasp and a soft, fluttery orgasm that knows he’s only just getting started. Frankie’s fingers continue to roll slowly over the sensitive bud of her clit, milking every last pulse of pleasure from her.

When she finally melts back into him Frankie grins and pulls his hand from her underwear, giving her mound a light spank that makes her jump with sensitivity before he sucks his fingers clean. He goes to kneel and she stops him.

“Frankie, wait,” she rakes her hand through her hair, reaching for him as she tries to turn around, “you…let me just…”

“Baby, tonight’s your night, and I’m not do—“

“—oh fuck.”

She’s managed to spin in his arms, palming his cock through his slacks. She works him for a moment, eyes tracking his face as his eyelids flutter shut and his mouth falls open, pink tongue darting out to lick over his plush bottom lip. 

“What were you saying, baby,” she murmurs against his mouth.

“Nothing,” he whispers with a smirk and a kiss.

Frankie braces his hands on the counter on either side of her, tipping his hips into her palm. She undoes his zipper and kneels with fabric as she pulls his trousers and boxer briefs down in one go.

Audrey locks eyes with him as she strokes his cock a moment before she licks an eager stripe up the underside of him. 

He tastes of musk and salt and Francisco in a way that makes her head spin.

“Ohh shittt,” Frankie hisses as she slips his foreskin back and teases the underside of his head with the tip of her tongue.

She takes him between her lips, attending to the swollen tip until she tastes the salt of his precome before letting her jaw fall open enough for him to slide across her tongue. 

Green eyes still locked on his face.

Her hands work the base of his dick as she continues, noting what makes his breath catch.

What draws low moans from his throat.

“Baby—“ Frankie whimpers when the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat, hand flying to cup her skull.

But he knows she might actually kill him if he moves her head even an inch, and so he grips the countertop with both fists instead as she continues.

Audrey pulls back a fraction and hums at the taste of him, the vibration of it causing his hips to jerk forward of their own accord, cock once again grazing the back of her throat.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he moans and her mouth leaves him completely, a lewd string of spit connecting his tip to her flushed lips.

“‘S fine, Francisco.” Audrey works him with one hand, pressing a kiss to the base of his dick, “kinda like it,” she murmurs offhandedly before sucking on one of his balls.

“Fuuuuckk okay, okay, nope,” Frankie jumps, manhandling her up by the arms and flipping her around again as he steps out of where his pants are pooled at his ankles.

She catches the flash in his eyes when she meets them in the mirror.

The look he gets when the most base parts of his brain take over.

“You think you can just say that?” He growls into her ear as he kicks her legs apart with a socked foot. “You think you can just say you kinda like getting your face fucked…” He grabs at the waistband of her underwear and twists as he yanks it, lace tearing before it’s discarded over his shoulder, “and then suck on my balls with that dirty fuckin’ mouth of yours…”

Frankie suddenly thrusts his cock inside of her and she cries out at the stretch where he’s sheathed so deep.

One hand curls under her jaw to tip her face back towards him.

“…when I already told you I was going to fuck you in front of this mirror?” He slips his tongue into her mouth and she moans. 

Frankie’s voice is low and measured, almost soft when he continues.

“You think you can do all that like it’s not going to immediately make me come all over this face?”

And Audrey grins and files that away.

“I already told you, gatita,” he pulls out and slams his cock back inside of her, making her writhe with pleasure where he has her trapped, “I’m going to come inside this pussy.”

And Frankie grips her hips and pounds away at the softest, most desperate parts of her.  

She watches as Frankie pulls her apart. The way his gaze is locked on where his cock stretches her. The one errant curl made damp with exertion that falls into his eyes. The way his top lip curls with a particularly harsh snap of his hips. The set of his jaw and the grit of his teeth as he hisses air through the gaps, Adam’s apple bobbing with each grunt.

He purses his lips and scrunches his nose when he exhales. 

Audrey shifts her hips and Frankie lets out a breathy “shit” when he bottoms out.

And Frankie reads her like a weather pattern from 30,000 feet. 

Her mouth drops open and her head falls forward and he grins. He knows it's a game of pressure, not speed when he’s seated this deep, and he adjusts his stance to give her exactly what she needs until she’s screaming, one hand braced on the countertop, the other flattened against the mirror. 

Calves burning from holding herself on tiptoes to help put Frankie at just the right angle.

He knows what it looks like just before lightning splits the sky.

“Look at me, baby,” he growls through clenched teeth, “look at me.”

And it’s a struggle with him hammering against her cervix, holding her on the brink of breaking.

The moment she meets his eyes from under a tangle of hair, Frankie presses two fingers against her clit and her walls clamp down around his cock and she lets out a scream that trails off into trembling sobs where he’s working her through it, pace still punching the air from her lungs. 

He's grunting now, one hand gripped over her shoulder, the other splayed across her stomach, hips snapping against her ass.

"Fuck yeah, baby. C'mon," he grits out, "fuck, you look so beautiful,” he pants, eyes locked on her face in the mirror where her mouth has fallen open with pleasure. “Never get to see your face when I fuck you like this. You know that, hermosa? You know how beautiful you are?"

And he feels her abs go tight under his palm as he whispers in her ear before he tips her over.

"So fucking beautiful falling apart on this fat fucking cock.”

"FRANKIE," she wails as another wave of pleasure crashes into her, sending her walls clamping down hard around his dick before her strength fails her.

Frankie wraps her waist in one muscled arm when he feels her legs go shaky as she throbs around him, bracing his free palm against the mirror next to hers, frantically chasing his own release.

She finds herself enough to lace her fingers with the hand that’s holding her up and runs the other over his outstretched forearm.

“Go on, Frankie,” she tips her face to bury her nose into his bicep. “Mmmm let me feel it,” she purrs in a haze, licking at the salt of his skin. “Give it to me. Please. Please, baby. Oh god, I wanna feel you come, Frankie.”

“Oh FUCK—" he barks, feeling his cock respond to her words, swelling and twitching inside of her before she sinks her teeth into his arm.

Frankie shouts as his hips snap hard, smashing her painfully between him and the countertop as pleasure explodes, searing white-hot through his blood.

He snarls into her ear with every pulse of his cock as he empties himself deep inside of her for what feels like an eternity.

Audrey practically growls at the feeling of wet warmth that's already starting to drip down her thigh.

Frankie shudders with the last of it and her mouth falls open, tongue laving over the indentations her teeth stamped into his skin.

She slants her eyes over to meet his in the mirror and he whispers, “don’t you dare move.”

And she’s so pliant here pressed against his heaving chest that the thought of having to move hadn’t even yet crossed her mind.

Frankie pulls out with a moan and sinks to his knees, holding her first by the hips and then by her ass as she supports her weight with hands on the countertop because she still can't trust her legs.

He spreads her open with his thumbs, moaning with satisfaction at the sight of the thick white of his release slipping from her.

On impulse he latches his mouth to her pussy and she jumps with a whine at the scratch of his beard against delicate, overstimulated skin. Frankie’s tongue slips inside and Audrey’s head falls back on her shoulders as sanity briefly abandons her.

His chest finds her back again as his hand fits gently around her throat, fingers dipping into the hinge of her jaw, craning her head up and back.

Frankie lets his lips fall open against her mouth.

And lets his come slip onto her tongue.

And the hand around her throat waits for her swallow before his lips crash against hers, tongue slipping inside of her again. Tasting himself there.

“Oh my god,” she whispers against his mouth when they part. Both desperate for air.

“I told you,” he fights for breath against her back, “I was gonna watch it drip out.” Frankie mashes his nose to her temple, filling his burning lungs with the scent of her hair.

She brings one hand up to cup his scruffy cheek, humming in satisfaction.

“C'mere,” he whispers and sits on the floor, back braced against the jacuzzi tub, reaching up for her.

Audrey settles between his legs, head resting on his thigh, Frankie’s fingers soothing across whatever skin he can reach.

“Think I went deaf for a second,” she murmurs, tipping her face to suck a kiss into his inner thigh. 

“Sorry, I know I was right in your ear.”

“No,” she hums, “before that.”

“That good?” Frankie strokes her hair.

“That good.” Audrey nuzzles his skin. “Is that tradition too when one earns their callsign?” She asks, angling big eyes up at him. “To come so hard you briefly go deaf?”

A coil of pride winds itself around his heart.

“It definitely wasn’t for Pope,” Frankie’s head thumps back against the tub with a grin and she laughs, curling in tighter to his leg.

“You cold, baby? Here,” he gently urges her up and starts the shower, wrapping her in his arms to offer his heat, sucking lazy kisses into her lips as they wait for the water to warm.

_____

And thus, the story of their fifth job and how Audrey earned her call sign is ridiculous. 

So there was this taxidermy moose in an office in Belize…

But Audrey does in fact ask for a copy of the cleanup report.

It arrives at her apartment via courier early one Saturday morning. Over coffee she skims the details of a replaced window pane and the trajectory of blood splatter. 

It all lines up with their account but she still can’t bring herself to believe. Until one line on the second to last page catches her eye.

Three broken shafts of hollow animal hair found at feet of deceased. Presumed from preserved Alces americanus in office, dislodged due to bullet trajectory. Cannot confirm without analysis. No visible damage to specimen. No further investigation warranted.

And she files it away with a grin.

next

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[oldstateofmind]

➜ pairing: doctor strange x fem!reader / sinister!doctor strange x fem!reader ➜ warnings: spoilers from mom, one-sided feelings, angst, mention of injury, blood ➜ words: 3.9k ➜ [chapter l] ➜ a/n: Hello everyone, guess who is back?! I’m so sorry for taking so long to update, life happens and you know how it goes, but alas, here it is! I hope the wait was worth it. Also, i made a playlist for this fic, if you want to check it out!

chapter ll. all alone at his golden temple

“Hello?” You ask, voice small due to the pain, “Is there anyone here" “Depends on who is asking.” The deep, calm voice sends a shiver down your spine. And even at the end of the world, where the sky spun around swallowing everything it touched, even when the silence was the only sound you could hear in a reality where humanity was extinct, there was no doubt.  Oh, you knew too well who that voice belonged to.

Read on Ao3

The ice-cold dribble of the winter rain running down your clothes was the first thing you felt as your eyes struggled to open. Your body was heavy against the harsh floor, too batted and bruised to move a single muscle; even your lungs had to put an extra effort to keep the oxygen pumping in your veins.

But above it all, everything hurts.

You grunted when the idea of moving was met with a sharp pain at your side. So, instead of fighting against your very nature, the idea of resting for just a few minutes was more than welcome. As the fogginess from the pain slowly dissipates, letting the synapses on your brain run free again to finally make a coherent thought, the pain that comes makes you sick – like a punch in the stomach, all the memories flood your mind in a relentless wave of agony.

The invasion of Kamar-taj. Your fight with Strange; the last thing he said to you. America. The screams of your friends and allies while being torn apart. The blood, so much blood running down the steps of a sacred place. Red painting your vision, the pure horror of not knowing what was lurking in the shadows, in your very reflection. The fear of dying so soon. 

The portal.

Suddenly your eyes open, and the dread soaking your bones is so much colder than the water from the shore washing over your body. 

The last thing you could remember was Strange’s calling your name as the Scarlet Which opened a portal while controlling America—and throwing you right into it.

The scenery that your eyes captured could’ve come from a nightmare. One that you would remember for days on end; every tiny detail still vivid in your mind as you went through your life – that type of nightmare that would take weeks until the eerie feeling at the back of your neck would go away.

As you push yourself from the water – crawling through the sand until the waves were put at a good distance – you watch in disbelief at your surroundings. In this new reality that Wanda had thrown you in; New York, or rather, the world collapsed in on itself. 

Buildings floating through the air, crashing on each other. The particles swam in the sky as if the sea made its way up there – spinning, forever in a flow until there was nothing left to be seen. Although, the snow particles still fell from where it was supposed to, bringing with them the melancholic feeling of New York’s winter and Strange’s cologne. 

The light from the nearby building, still in the process of deterioration, flicked a few times before going completely off. Your head turned in the opposite direction, contemplating the devastating scene of the Brooklyn Bridge being swallowed by the sea, so close to where you lay that for a moment your heart stopped. But even though the waves kept coming, the crumbling bridge stayed afloat in the distance.

The world was silent. And completely lonesome.

What the hell happened here? 

Gathering all the strength you had left, legs trembling with the weight of your body, you lean on the nearest tree for support. There was enough blood running down your waist to be worried, but you didn’t dare take a look at it just yet. Instead, you ripped a bit of the fabric from your uniform and wrapped it around the wound. That would do.

The first step sent a sharp jab of pain that made you see white. The fight had left you debilitated and for a moment you can’t help but curse everything that lead you to this moment. And most of all, your weakness.

If you had been faster, smarter, stronger… Maybe none of these would have happened. You wouldn’t be now fighting to put a foot in front of the other. You wouldn’t be in a completely different reality that it was doomed to destruction. You wouldn’t be alone.

Maybe Strange was right after all.

Trying to ignore the ache in every inch of your being, you start to walk. It wasn’t just your bones that were broken, but your heart too. The fight with Strange was still fresh in your mind, his words cut deeper than anything ever could – even when your waist had a gash from one of the Scarlet witch spells. The skin would eventually heal. But the heart? You weren’t so sure.

There was a feeling of loneliness creeping into you as you made your way to the only place you could find solace in a world about to collapse. If you were lucky, Strange would defeat Wanda before the inevitable end of this reality, then America could come to pick you up, and maybe you could go home.

The amount of “ifs” and “maybes” piling up as you try to come up with a plan only contributes to worsening your mood. The panic of being forgotten invades your mind, making your heart race in anxiety. But at the time being, your focus is solely on the task ahead. 

Finding the Sanctum.

•••

It took some time to find it, the streets of a destroyed New York kept changing, leading you to dead ends. The snow falling wasn’t helping either as you felt the water freezing your clothes against your skin. However, once you spotted the place amongst the dense fog in the distance, a sense of relief – even though small and weak – washed over you. 

It was impossible not to recognize the tall and intimidating building. The place you called home for so many years, was now on the edge of the world; old and haunted, disintegrating inch by inch.

The relief quickly vanished when you heard the sound of something cracking. You felt an uneven object underneath your feet, and when you raised your foot to look at it, the panic in the corner of your mind came to hit you at full speed.

Death surrounded the place; a looming shadow covered the field full of skeletons. Stacks of bones and ashes pilled up in the front of the gate, and more of them were scattered around the Sanctum. Suddenly it wasn’t the cold that made you shiver; it was the sign of complete devastation surrounding the place you considered the most peaceful in the world.

There was almost no strength left in you, everything was spinning so fast that the sound of your heavy breathing was the only thing echoing in your ears. The surroundings only got more disturbing; a sense of dread almost suffocates you like the fog gathering around the building. Whatever happened here, it had been a massacre. And even though the signs were obvious, you refuse to spare a single thought on the matter. 

Slowly, and trying to avoid stepping on the skeletons dispersed around the path, you made your way to the gate, still feeling your heart in your throat. There were black, thick vines growing alongside the tall walls; a sigh of abandonment, or resignation. 

The pain at this point was numb compared to the mess of emotions messing with your heart. There was too much to process, too many implications and revelations to categorize and make some sense of it. Taking a deep breath while trying not to think too much about it, you push the door open. 

For a moment, you take in the sign in a strange state of calmness.

If wasn’t for the fact that the only reason why everything you were seeing was possible only because reality had collapsed and the world around you was crumbling down by each minute, you would have found it beautiful – terrifying, but still beautiful. 

The room opened to a huge staircase that kept going infinitely towards the sky – there was no end to it. Behind it, a big red moon shone through the clouds. The sea breeze hits your face strangely warm. It wasn’t very often you had the opportunity to listen to the sound of waves crashing into the shore, much less watch the tide come in gently, lulling you to sleep.

Your eyes suddenly water as melancholy makes its way to your heart. How strange, to remember the chaos you encountered during your small trip to this place, only to find a strange sort of beauty in the wake of destruction. 

The chair right next to the stairs calls for your name, to sit down for just a moment and enjoy the view, to sink your feet into the sand and close your eyes to the melody of the sea. However, as another sharp jab reminds you that there was an open wound needing attention, you turn your head towards the staircase again, biting the inside of your cheeks so hard that not a single sound would escape your mouth as you make your way up. 

One step after the other.

•••

After what seemed like forever, you reach the top of the stars.

The place was exactly like the Sanctum, but there was an eerie atmosphere to it that you couldn’t put your finger on. The lights were all off; the flames from the chandeliers and candles had all been extinguished, causing the place to look much scarier than it was supposed to be.

You look around, knowing exactly where to go, where to find the things you needed. You could blindly make your way through the room with full confidence, each detail of the Sanctum craved in your mind just like the lines in the palm of your hand. And yet, each step felt wrong, as if you were invading a place you weren’t welcomed. 

And that feeling was the worst of it all.

Leaning into the nearest wall, you try to catch your breath. The dark spots dancing in your vision are getting bigger and never-ceasing. You would faint before you could do anything about your wound if you keep forcing yourself like this. As you look around, trying to form a plan in your head that didn’t involve bleeding to death, you spot a single empty teacup on the table. 

And it’s still stimming hot. 

“Hello?” You ask, voice small due to the pain, “Is there anyone here?”

“Depends on who is asking.”

The deep, calm voice sends a shiver down your spine. And even at the end of the world, where the sky spun around swallowing everything it touched, even when the silence was the only sound you could hear in a reality where humanity was extinct, there was no doubt. 

Oh, you knew too well who that voice belonged to.

There is a creaking on the stairs on the right. You immediately follow with your gaze to where the voice comes from. A type of expectation that makes your hand clammy and your heartbeat pumping so hard that it hurts your ribcage.

And then, you see him. 

“Strange?” The disbelief is clear, even though you knew very well who was the owner of that voice before laying your eyes on him.

“So you know my name,” He says, calm and composed, “I’m sorry I can’t say the same.” 

There’s a pang in your heart having to hear those words. However, you try to brush it off, there was no point in dealing in what you were here… Right? You belonged to another reality, to another Strange. 

Tilting his head back as he glances over you from the top of the stair, Strange brings his hand to his chin, and you don’t dare say a single thing as his gaze is fixed on you.

And you can’t help but do the same. 

His long, slim fingers tap the wooden rail in a slow rhythm as he makes his way down the stairs, but time seems to stop when your eyes land on his face. The light that comes from upstairs illuminates his features and all you can see is the shadow of the man you thought you knew. 

Your eyes follow each of his movements, and even when you should be scared by the man who carries the same face as the one you love, the terrifying curiosity that comes with it is undeniably mesmerizing.

His presence was still the same, tall and imposing. Proud. But there was something different in the way he carried himself. As Strange approaches, looming darkness follows him, frightening you with the amount of dark power surrounding him like a shield. 

You can’t keep your eyes off of him, a strange fixation pulls you to him as Strange approaches. His clothes are worn down, and you notice you have never seen him wearing them before.

“You’re hurt,” Strange points out. His hands remain at his back as he points with a tilt of his chin to the place where you have been pressing ever since you stopped by the doorframe.

Snapping back to reality, you flinch involuntarily at the mention of your wound. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that, there was a variant of Stephen Strange right in front of you, a more dangerous and fatal than you could’ve ever imagined. All the dread you felt when entering this place was justified by the way his magic conflicted with the one you knew. 

Now it was purely dark and sinister.

“What happened? Why is–,” You bit your lips, suppressing a painful moan escaping your lips. The piece of cloth you wrapped around your waist was now soaked, a mixture of blood and water that felt disgusting to the touch.

Strange glances at the place your hand is pressing, raising an eyebrow in the process, but doesn’t say anything else. Your grip on the doorframe turns your knuckles white, but even when your conscience began to falter and your body loses the strength, you stay put. 

Eyes always glued to the man in front of you.

“Why is this reality collapsing?” You try again, voice so fragile you can’t recognize as your own.

The sorcerer pondered for a moment, probably wondering if he should waste his time on someone like you, someone he didn’t know – nor cared about.

“It’s called an Incursion,” He says nonchalantly, looking at the opposite side of the room, “It happens when two realities collide.”

Following his gaze, you find half of the room being swallowed by a black hole; gradually collecting broken pieces and incorporating them into its spiral of clouds and debris. It’s hypnotizing the way it spins, slowly but never faltering. It brings some sort of awe in the face of the inevitable, to watch from this close, a reality being eaten little by little – and not being able to do a single thing but watch it end. 

You return your gaze towards the man again, but his eyes are still fixed ahead. At least the very characteristic stripe of white hair that you’ve always found charming was still there. However, the dark circles adorning his eyes are deeper than you’ve ever seen before. As far as you could remember, even on days where Strange would stay up for hours studying or keeping the universe safe, there was always a worry about his image that at the beginning of your friendship, you would call narcissism. 

However, this Stephen Strange was different. Something was off from the way he carefully walks, eyes sharp as an eagle, ever so observant. His shoulders never left the position that one would take expecting a fight to break out. Even his hair and beard, things that were always trimmed and perfectly tamed, were now grown and uneven on his tired face. 

No, tired wasn’t the exact word for his state. It ran deeper than that. 

“I asked why. Not what it was.”

The man who looks so much like Strange doesn’t answer at first. Instead, his attention turns to you, and goosebumps break through your skin as his gaze met yours – the intensity of it is enough to bring you to your knees. It felt like reaching for air only to be held down by a strong hand around your neck, which you laid bare to him considering your state.

The sense of danger goes off in your mind, sirens blasting through in your ears, telling you to run and put as much distance as your could from him. This Stephen wasn’t the one you knew, far from it. 

In this reality, If Doctor Strange himself was an identity which force was obscure and wrapped around in the darkness, then what does it say about the cause of the destruction you keep seeing around here?

The atmosphere grows heavier by the second, and all you can do is hold your breath.

“You’re a rude little thing, aren’t you?” He finally says, running his hand through the dusty table, “You come here, uninvited. Ask question after question but won’t even tell me your name?”

The pang in your chest doesn’t lessen when the concept of being someone unknown to Strange is mentioned a second time. The depth of your feelings for him is so rooted in your soul, so raw to your very being that even in other realities you imagined that it was still the same. To be aware that your love wasn’t special, that you were just someone he would mention on the footnotes of his story – if ever – hurt. 

It hurts so badly that you have to swallow the lump forming in your throat before speaking. “Y/N.”

Strange nods, “And why are you here, Y/N?”

He walks closer, steps so light you can barely hear – a wolf ready to devour its prey. The sirens are still loud in your mind, but the only strength left in you was the one keeping you standing. Sweat runs down your temple, and by the minute you feel your skin become feverish; so hot it could dry the dampness of your clothes. 

“A witch threw me through a portal.”

Unexpectedly, Strange chuckles, “Charming.” 

Oh. How easy it was to picture your Stephen in front of you. The color of his eyes was still the same, even when the wrinkles around them were deeper – more prominent against the purple undertone of his under eyes – making him look older than he supposedly is. His laugh sounded the same, though a little rough at the seams. Even his lips were–

“Were you happy, in your reality?”

The question almost goes unnoticed when watching this other version of Stephen Strange – as you keep having to remember yourself – portray the exact image of corruption. The sparkle in his eyes has a twist in it; the light had long ago been swapped by the darkness running in his veins. Even his skin emitted a strange sort of coldness…

You blink once, then twice. The fever must be slowing your responses because you had never let your guard down like this. Strange is now standing in front of you, so close you can feel his powerful aura wrapping its icy fingers around yours, consuming the last sparkle of light from the magic within you. 

And yet, when he moves his hand towards your face, you let him. 

“I suppose,” You softly whisper as if spoken any loud the spell of the moment would break.

Your eyes meet again, and electricity runs through you, awakening something anew. Strange has an odd look on his face, twitching his eyebrow just slightly. It would’ve gone unnoticed if you weren’t paying attention to every tiny detail of his face – if you didn’t know him as much as you did. 

However, at the last second, when the coldness of his finger is close to refreshing the boiling heat of your skin, he pulls away.

“That’s not an answer,” Strange steps back, retreating his hand to his back, adjusting his shoulders in that same imposing manner as the first time you saw him. 

“Apparently, you weren’t,” Out of nowhere, a sense of boldness takes over. You snicker at the man while motioning at him with your free hand, “A wild guess if I may add.”

And again, the fear creeping into your mind comes back with the tilt of his head. The way Strange’s eyes close slightly, followed by the sound of his hands closing in a fist. The lights around you seem to flicker even though there were no lights to be turned off. 

This shows how easy it is to make this Strange angry. How you’ve been walking in a thin line ever since stepping into this place, at any moment a single blow could make you drop from the high you’ve been holding yourself so tightly.

The moment goes away just as quickly as it came, and you finally release the breath you’ve been holding the entire time, feeling your heart beating fast against your chest in trepidation. The man touches something in his belt, but you can’t see what it is.

“You are correct,” Strange says, voice rough, laced with sorrow, “But I never meant for this to happen. A guilty I’ll live with until this place is gone and forgotten.”

As the man speaks his words, apprehension forms in the pit of your stomach. A very similar image flashes through your eyes, a memory you wanted to forget as soon as it made its way home into your mind. A sadness that never went away; the grief that kept corroding Strange on the inside.

“And does this happiness have a name?” Your voice trembles, and the misery you’ve been cultivating for so many years, now drips through your words as the truth is handed to you on a silver plate.

“it does.” 

It’s hard to breathe when you fall. As the clouds pass you by and gravity pulls you to the ground. You’ve always meant to meet the rocks instead of his hands. To always look at his back, never his face. The chest you kept all the warning signs burst open, and each of them comes with a knife, stabbing your bleeding heart. 

“You destroyed a reality because of Christine?” It comes almost as a whisper, it’s hard to put into words the question, your throat burns with the tears begging to be shed. 

“Not only one,” Strange doesn’t look in your direction, sparing you his pit that inevitably comes with rejection, ”But multiples.”

The final blow lands its hit.

Everything was spinning. Everything hurts.

There was no point in staying here, you needed to go. You couldn’t stay here, a place that was living proof to what extent Strange would go to have his true love back; a confirmation that no matter how much you tried, his heart was never meant to be yours.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair!

The rage and bitterness flowing through your veins are the sole reason why you manage to gather the willpower to walk away. Blood runs through your fingers, creating a red path underneath your feet. But you don’t care, you would rather die than spare Strange another glance.

The man follows right behind you, holding your arm to stop you from reaching the stairs.

“Y/N–”

“You selfish, narcissistic, bastard!” You scream, trying to pull your arm away from him. It’s agonizing, the pain inflicted into your old wounds, open yet again with a cut so ugly it will definitely infect. “I hate you…so much.”

The last shred of strength leaves your body as your legs give out, and everything fades to black.

tag list: @nancy-thompsons, @mischiefmanaged71, @romanvffa, @kiranishi, @mistalli, @suddenlyiwasalilacskyyy, @ghost-lantern, @sherlux, @keepingitlokiii, @lovecleastrange, @childishmonster05, @praetorrara, @goldencherriess, @teenagemuffinlampcalzone, @mischiefmanaged71, @mavsketch, @gabba-gool-cool, @fire-treasure-iii, @guyfieriii, @thegardenerofeden

[sunshinebingo]

Hello hello!! Here is the 3rd and last part of this amazing fic. My apologies that it has taken so long. If you haven't read the previous part, you can check the Part 1 here by @sideralwriting, and Part 2 here by @thelovelymadone. Both of their chapters are chef's kiss 😘 I hope mine is good enough 😅 Also, check out the Masterlist of the Acotar Writing Circle here for more fics!!

Thank you @azrielshadowssing for organising the Acotar Writing Circles. They are always really fun to be a part of. ♥

Pairing: Helion x LoA

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning: little bit of smut 🤏

Read Part 3 on Ao3 or below the cut

I hope you enjoy! 🌊

Chapter 3: There are no rainbows without rain

It’s her.

He knew it before but he is certain of it now. As her lips gently moves against his and that ever-present tether pulls them closer, all thoughts and dreams he has had of her flashed behind his closed eyes and he knows that she is the one that the Gods had meant for him since the beginning. She is his angel sent to save him. His salvation in every way. His light of sunshine that would rival even the brightest day in Rhodes. She is the beginning and the end.

‘’Cyra, I…’’ he struggles to find the words when their lips part and he looks down at her. She looks at him with wide eyes and an expression of awe that he is sure is a mirror to his own.

‘’Do you feel it too?’’ she finally asks. He knows then that the rope of glittering gold that is wrapping itself tightly around his heart is doing the same to hers. Cyra grabs his hand, places it on her heart and he feels it.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Her heart is racing in sync with his own. That rope of light pulls them impossibly closer and he feels it circling around them, engulfing them with the promise that their souls are forever bound to each other. The rope of life chants to them, encouraging them to bound their bodies to seal that promise.

Looking at Cyra, Helion finds that he does not need to ask for what she thinks of all this. The look in her eyes and the tug he feels from her side of that ethereal rope give away her want. And still –

‘’Yes,’’ she whispers against his lips before kissing him with more passion and abandon than he has ever witnessed in her. Helion takes everything that she gives him and gives himself completely in return. Soon he lies her down beneath him on the sand next to what remains of the fire. The light around them shines brighter than the stars and the moon, and it glows brighter with every touch and every kiss.

Kiss, touch, claim…

The tether between them sings so clearly that it drowns out the sound of the crashing waves and the trees swaying with the wind. The only thing louder now is their gasps and moans after they get rid of their clothes and explore the others body.

Helion’s name comes out of her lips over and over again like a prayer as he kisses and touches and claims her just like the light between them demands of him. ‘’Cyra,’’ he whispers against her throat. She brings his face up to hers and looks straight into his eyes, nodding once, before Helion slowly thrusts inside her.

With that final connection, the light between them shines even brighter and sing a song that only their joined souls can hear. It sounds like the ancient hymns of Rhodes sung on the shores to celebrate the sea and sun combined with other voices that he somehow knows are whispered in the Autumn forest despite never having been there. These ethereal voices echo the promise of the bond; they promise life, love, laughter and comfort that only the twin to your soul can bring.

As he moves in and out of her and Cyra moves with him, Helion feels his essence mingling with hers. When their movement becomes more frantic and the pleasure building inside them reach its peak, he sends his silent thanks to the Gods for sending this magnificent female to him. Cyra cries out his name as she shatters around him and he follows, spilling himself deep inside her while he drinks in the sound of her voice and the feel of her as she holds onto him tightly. The light between them slowly fades, until what remains is the faint glow of their bodies as they remain tangled in each other.

‘’Helion,’’ Cyra whispers as if afraid to come back to a reality where all of this has only been a dream. He moves his face from her neck to place a kiss on the tip of her freckled nose and then looks at her. She presses her forehead against his and whispers again, ‘’I am yours.’’

The tether between them thrums with its last notes as Helion brushes his nose against Cyra’s and whispers back, ‘’And I am yours.’’

They remain in this blissful silence for a while until he lifts her up and carries to the sea to wash away the sand from their bodies. Their late-night swim leads to another round of love making followed by both of them laughing amidst the gentle waves of the calm sea. Then they finally rejoin their cave, both clothed and a new fire lit up to keep them warm. Cyra lies on top of him and they hold onto each other closer than they ever have. Soon, she falls asleep lulled by the crashing waves and the sound of their breathing.

Helion’s last thought before he follows the other half of his soul into a well-deserved sleep is that, of all the storms he has been through, none has ever brought him this much peace. But what he does not know yet is that there is a kind of storm that does not cause the waves to rise nor the rain to fall. What this storm brings is days of sorrow and pain as its tempestuous wind blows tangled souls in opposites directions and forces them to hold onto hope to keep their ship afloat.

.........

The following weeks they spend on the island are the most blissful moments Cyra has ever had in her entire life. Her new reality cuts her off so much from her life before the storm that when their old life comes back, she forgets for a moment that she has been a lady and he a Prince.

They should be glad that help has come for them. That means that they have not been forgotten. Cyra’s heart beats in her throat as she watches the ship that approaches their isolated island that morning. She recalls the last time she has seen the three masts and the familiar green and gold sails being pushed forward by the wind. Of all the scenarios she has made in her mind about someone coming for them, she has never held onto the hope that it would be the Duke’s ship that would come for them.

A small boat with a few men aboard is lowered to the sea and makes it the rest of the way to the shore. Cyra cannot make out yet who they are. She holds onto Helion’s arm while they wait. Her eyes fill with tears but not of happiness at being saved, but of fear that whatever has grown between them will be left on this island. ‘’I don’t want to leave you,’’ she tells him.

Helion turns to her, taking Cyra’s face between his hands and kisses her forehead. He must have sensed how she has become tense at the thought of returning back to her father. ‘’Everything will be fine,’’ he tries to reassure her.

‘’Hey, look at me,’’ he lifts her face so she looks into his eyes. ‘’Whatever comes next, we will face it. Do you understand?’’

Cyra nods. ‘’Together.’’

‘’Together,’’ he repeats with a smile. ‘’I am yours Cyra,’’ he kisses her cheek. ‘’I will always be yours,’’ and the other cheek.

The humming of the rope tying their souls sends a flow of relief and hope in her. ‘’And I am yours,’’ she promises him again before pouring all that she feels for him through that invisible bridge between them.

Looking back at the approaching boat, Cyra lets go of him and braces herself for what she imagines her father would say when he sees her. Lost at sea or not, having almost lost her life or not, the Duke will not be happy to see her daughter in her old, worn-out clothes while clinging to a stranger, especially a male. But in this moment, she is ready to fight her strict father for what she really wants. For what the Gods have deemed her worthy of. She has risked her life for him once and she will do it again.

However, there is no sign of the Duke among those who disembarks the little boat. Instead, her eyes stop on someone she has heard to be far worse than her father. Beron, a Prince of Autumn. Cyra’s blood goes cold at the sight of the male who she has heard terrible rumours about. What is he doing here? Where is my father?

‘’Lady Cyra,’’ Beron asks as he stops before the pair. He does not even acknowledge Helion who stands between them. ‘’I come here on behalf of your family. Allow me to escort you back to safety.’’

The island seems safer than the male who is currently offering it to her. As if suddenly remembering her manners in the presence of new faces, Cyra dips in a bow. ‘’Thank you for coming for us.’’

Beron grimaces and looks at Helion like he has just now realised that he is here too. ‘’I did not come for him I’m afraid. I only came for you. Your father and I have a strict agreement.’’ Cyra frowns, dumbfounded at what she is hearing. Helion tenses beside her and Cyra instinctively reaches for his hand and interlace their fingers. Beron tracks the movement and raises an eyebrow.

‘’What sort of agreement?’’ Helion asks the other Prince.

Beron ignores him again and addresses Cyra only. ‘’Your father gave you away to me if I agreed to come look for you.’’

‘’What?’’ Cyra snaps. She would rather be forgotten by her father than being handed over to the first male like a mere object. ‘’I refuse to leave without him.’’

Helion wraps his arm around her both in reassurance and to let Beron know that he has no intention of being separated from her either.

‘’Fine,’’ Beron says nonchalantly. ‘’Take them both,’’ he says to the few guards who have come with him. Cyra and Helion thrash and fight the five males trying to pull them apart to drag them to the small boat.

Fight, fight, fight, their bond urges them both.

‘’Make it quick,’’ Beron shouts over Cyra’s screams. Someone knocks Helion out and he falls down. They hit her a second later and the last thing she sees is the guards dragging Helion’s unconscious body on the sand before everything turns black.

.........

Cyra wakes up in pain. The back of her head, her legs, her arms. Everything hurts. Or perhaps it is just the terrible headache that is making her whole body feel worse. The swaying feeling is not making things better either. She opens her eyes in a dimly lit cabin. But seeing everything moving around her only makes her nauseous. She only manages to turn her head to the side before she empties the content of her stomach on the wooden floor.

Someone rushes by her side with a towel in hand and a glass of water. ‘’Drink this my lady,’’ the servant tells her.

She takes only a little sip and gives the glass back to the female. ‘’What happened?’’

And then she feels it. Find him, find him, find him. The bond sings.

‘’Helion,’’ she whispers before the servant can explain anything. Cyra jumps out of the bed without taking the time to acknowledge that she has been changed into new clothes and rush to the door. She feels dizzy but she has to find him. When she opens the door, two guards blocks her way out.

‘’Let me out,’’ she orders them but they do not budge.

‘’My lady ple- ‘’

‘’What is happening?’’ she turns to the female and asks in a harsh and panicked tone.

The female looks at Cyra as if she has turned into a wild animal. ‘’You should rest my lady. The travel has been long and we will arrive at your home soon.’’

‘’Home?’’ Cyra asks more to herself.

‘’Yes, my lady. We will reach the shores of Autumn in a few days.’’

How long have I been asleep? Why can’t I leave? Where is Helion? What happened to him? Is he safe? Cyra holds her aching head as the questions and worry assault her mind. I have to find him, I have to find him…

The servant grabs Cyra by the hand and pulls her inside the cabin before shutting the door. ‘’The other male is fine my lady,’’ she whispers. Cyra realises then that she must have spoken out loud. She looks at the female with pleading eyes.

The servant looks at the closed door like she was ensuring that no one can hear them. ‘’The male who was with you on the island is in a cell below.’’ Cyra gasps.

‘’He is fine my lady,’’ the servant takes her hands and continues.

‘’Please tell me what happened,’’ Cyra begs.

The servant guides her back to the bed and makes her sit down before she explains everything that has happened while Cyra was unconscious. She keeps her voice as low as possible and occasionally looks at the door. ‘’Prince Beron does not believe that the male is an actual Prince. He says that he will remain his prisoner until he gets proof of his true identity.’’

Anger fills her when Cyra learns that Helion has been brutalized by Beron. What stops her from tearing this ship apart to go find him is the servant’s warning. ‘’The Prince of Autumn is powerful my lady. It is best if you do not fight him.’’

‘’Why is he doing this?’’ Cyra shouts in the cabin.

‘’Because I can,’’ a voice drawled at the door as it opens again. He shoots a look at the servant who lowers her gaze before leaving. Cyra hopes that no one has heard the servant tell her so much. She does not wish for the kind female to face the possible cruel consequences of having helped her.

‘’I want to see him,’’ Cyra says, trying to sound calm.

Beron scoffs at her. ‘’You do not have the right to want anything here, lady Cyra,’’ he steps towards her. He grimaces at what Cyra assumes is the smell of vomit that fills the cabin. ‘’I saved you. You owe me. And that is it.’’

‘’What do you want from me?’’ she stands up.

The Prince smirks. ‘’I told you. Your father handed you to me.’’

Another wave of nausea roils in her when she remembered what he said on the beach. ‘’You, my lady,’’ he takes another step, stopping toe to toe with her, ‘’belong to me now.’’

Cyra gulps. She feels sick. She needs to throw up again and her head spins. She sits back on the bed and holds her head between her hands. A small relief spreads in her through the bond in her heart. She places a hand there and holds onto that connection.

‘’As for your fake little Prince, he will get what is coming for him if he is lying to me.’’ With that, Beron turns around and walks the two steps to the door. ‘’If you try to see him,’’ he adds over his shoulder, ‘’I will make you watch as I punish him.’’

As soon as the door slams shut behind him, Cyra throws up again. Soon, the servant comes in the cabin with a bucket of water and towels. She cleans the mess she has made on the floor. By the time that she starts to care for her, wiping the cold sweat from her face and changing her clothes again, Cyra falls back asleep, still holding onto the rope of warmth in her chest.

.........

He has spent weeks on that ship and a few more in another cell in the royal dungeons of Autumn. Months during which Helion has spent most of his time either sleeping or being subjected to the questioning and beatings of the Autumn Prince. The pretentious prick still believes that he is lying. Or perhaps he just enjoys using his fists. Anyway, he does not know what is coming for him.

The time he spends in his cell at least allows Helion to think of all the ways he will be able to have revenge against Autumn once he is back in Rhodes. Perhaps he can make sure that Autumn loses all associates in Day. Or maybe he can send some contaminated rats into the home of the Prince. Either way, he will pay.

Every day and night, the servant who bring his food, the one who has tended to Cyra on the ship, also brings news of his lady. But the news have not been as good as he would like. She has been sick since she woke up on the ship and that has him worried. She has been able to see her family. But even that has not helped much apparently. Helion can sense her distress through their bond.

Find her. Keep her safe… that rope of light screams at him.

But there is nothing he can do from here except pour his love for her through their bond and let her know that he is still here. One of the few comforts Helion has is the fact that the Autumn Prince has not claimed her yet. Helion has learned from that same servant that Beron is waiting for Cyra’s health to improve before he officially declares the Duke’s daughter as his wife. So with nothing else to do, Helion prays that his light of sunshine gets better and that they can soon be reunited.

We will be together soon my sunshine, he sends to her through their bond.

Thump! Thump! Thump! He listens to the beat of his one own heart. Thump! Thump! Thump! Another beat echoes right after his own. Then he feels the faint tug in his heart.

Together, my sunshine, he promises.

A few heart beats later, another tug.

Together, her voice fills his head and Helion smiles.

.........

‘’You will pay for this.’’

Helion rises to the sound of a familiar voice. Slowly, his eyes open.

‘’Release my son at once,’’ the booming voice echoes in the cell and Helion eyes instantly widen.

‘’Father?’’

At first, he thinks that this is a dream. A wishful thinking manifested by his imagination. But then his eyes find those of his father, amber eyes similar to his and the loose greying hair framing his face.

The guard fumbles with the key for a minute before the door to his cell finally opens. ‘’Are you well?’’ the King of Rhodes asks with both hands on his shoulders.

Helion nods. He holds his father in a hug for a minute before the King pulls back. ‘’Let’s get you out of this wretched place.’’

Helion remains silent as he walks towards his freedom. Finally.

He knows from the look on his father’s face and the tension in his body that he too is plotting the demise of the Autumn Prince.

.........

The days come and go. The sun rises and sets. Yet Cyra feels the same as the first day she has come back to Autumn after she has been rescued. Her health has not gone much better. She often feels nauseous and her head often aches. She has seen a healer but has refused to tell anyone about what the female has said. And she will keep refusing until she can be reunited with the reason behind her sickness.

Soon, he has promised through their bond. So Cyra decided that she will wait. She knows she will get better once she is with him. He is the only one with whom she intends to share her condition with. So, she waits.

Sometimes her sisters sit by her side and read to her. She has not tell them much of her days on the island. These days are her treasure. Precious memories of the happiest moments of her life. Just the thought of them makes the hope inside her burns bright.

Other days, like today, Cyra just walks around the Duke’s estate in search of any spot with enough sunshine where she can sit and daydream about the bright rays she has lived under on the island. The sun in Autumn does not shine as bright as she has started to love. Nor is it as warm. So Cyra relies on her memories and the light inside her to keep her warm.

Tug!

Something pulls at her heart. Cyra stops amidst the flowers and focuses on that invisible rope inside her.

Tug!

Harder this time. It feels urgent.

Find him, find him, find him… it chants.

A wave of fear crashes over her, causing her headache to come back. Cyra closes her eyes and holds tight onto that rope. She tugs back. And soon…

Tug! and another stronger Tug!

Cyra gasps at the force of it.

Look, look, look… it urges her.

Cyra turns and looks around frantically. Her eyes travel from the garden, to the walls of the estate, to the gate and then –

There. Just behind the open gate. Looking brighter than any sunny days of this court.

Run, run, run…

And she does. She runs and does not stop until she is in his arms. She buries her face between his neck and shoulder when he lifts her off the ground and she cries. The tether between them shines a light that only they can see while it whispers their shared promises.

I am yours. And you are mine. Together…

Helion pulls away first and kisses her like he is trying to make up for every second that they have spent apart. His kiss is like a balm to her aching soul. Every sorrow and despair that has kept her company in his absence are washed away by the sudden tide of relief and joy that floods her.

‘’My beautiful lady.’’

Cyra giggles against his neck. ‘’My sailor.’’

‘’Come with me,’’ he says when he places her down. Cyra only stares at him. ‘’I am going back to Rhodes. Come with me and we’ll never be apart again.’’

She looks back at the estate of her father. Cyra thinks of her family and her life here. Helion places a finger beneath her chin and turns her head so that she can face him. ‘’We can go see your father if that is what you wish. I am a Prince after all,’’ he shrugs. ‘’You will be exchanging one of Autumn for one of Day.’’

She could. She could go back and asks for her father’s permission. Cyra has always been the obedient daughter who listens to every word her father says if only to prevent his name from being soiled. But the Duke has given her away to a cruel male for the sake of that family name. The sole reason why he has sent someone to rescue her was in hope that the Autumn Prince would get the prized obedient daughter that everyone talks so highly of.

‘’No,’’ Cyra says firmly. This time, she will choose for herself. She will follow the one that the Gods have already chosen for her. ‘’Let’s go now.’’

When Helion smiles at her, the light between them burns even brighter, humming again of love and life and something new. Something born out of the promise between their hearts and soul.

[pickledpascal]

How to be True

Chapter Three: Detroit: Become Teacher

Warnings: more weird ass cuts, innuendos, sex jokes, anxiety

Word Count: 3.9k

How to be True Masterlist

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First day of college. 

Billie was glad that she already had friends who were at the same university and was going to be living with them. She also had a few classes with her friends. Just an English class since they put off their core classes for later. Something about it being easier as a junior. 

As she left her apartment building with her decorated backpack on her shoulder, she was met with a sea of people. All of this was new to her. Billie did go to community college but going to a full-fledged university was something entirely different. The size was one thing. The amount of people was another. Thank god she knew where her classes were or she knew she’d be fucked into next Tuesday. 

Just as Billie was about to walk into a building that housed her first class, something—someone—bumped into her. Not hard or anything, just a shoulder check that made Billie lose her balance. 

“Shit! Sorry.” Came a hasty reply. Billie caught the eyes of the perpetrator. He looked relatively young. Maybe his late twenties? He had deep brown hair and a bit of scruff. Square glasses framed his dark eyes. He wore a crisp white button-up and black slacks. Was he a professor? “You alright?” He asked. His voice was strangely soothing, and raspy. The man’s eyebrows furrowed, a smile on his lips.

Billie was staring. Hard. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine. Bye.” She quickly turned to navigate her way through the building. 

Her first class was just like she assumed it would be. Going through the syllabus and doing a few "get to know you" exercises which meant she'd have to talk to people she didn't know. Which wasn't a bad thing per se. Billie just didn't like being forced to talk to people instead of talking to someone out of her own will. 

During the class, Bill couldn't stop her mind from shifting to that guy she ran into. Something about him… it interested her. She couldn't put a finger on it. 

Billie's next class was English. With Ben and Anaya. She basically ran out of her first one to meet her friends inside the small room. Thankfully, a lot of her classes were about twenty to thirty students. She hugged both of them as soon as she was close enough. 

"Someone's glad to see us. Already tired of this shit?" Ben laughed.

"You could say that." Billie shrugged.

"Imagine what it feels like for three years." Anaya sighed, adjusting the straps of her backpack before the trio walked inside the room and got a few desks next to each other. 

Billie pursed her lips. Besides a few other students, she and her friends were the only ones in the room. "Have you guys looked on Rate My Professor for this class?"

"Yeah. He's like a 4.5 which is the best you're gonna get, I think." Ben spoke up.

Anaya's eyes beamed. "One of my friends, Max, had him in their freshman year. Said he was pretty cool. He used to live in Detroit." She just hoped the "cool" part of him didn't change.

"Who cares about him being from Detroit? Destiny said he's pretty hot. Which means he's fucking hot if she said it." Ben winked. 

Billie laughed at her friend's shenanigans. She had to admit, she had a few crushes on teachers when she was younger but she eventually grew out of that. It wasn't her thing anymore. Plus, she had a girlfriend. No need to fantasize about anything.

A few minutes later, a frantic, familiar man made his way inside the room. To the front desk. 

"Shit, he is hot." Anaya chuckled softly. Thankfully, they didn't sit in the front. More in the middle. 

Billie's eyes widened at the sight of him. "That's Dr. Garner?" She was surprised. He looked young. Too young to be a professor. Or maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. She always assumed all her teachers would be middle-aged to old men. 

"Looks like it." Ben snickered. 

"Good morning!" Dr. Garner's voice rang through the entire room. "Before we go over the syllabus and do some introductions…." His eyes finally fixed on Billie. Just for a second. He coughed to regain his composure. "I thought it might be a good idea to introduce myself first, since, hopefully, we're gonna get to know each other a bit better." Suddenly, he forgot what he practiced last night. 

Dr. Garner scratched at his neck before the memories came back. He only paused for a few seconds, not long enough for his students to begin wondering if something happened. "My name is Dr. Nathan Garner. You can call me Nathan, Nate, Dr. Garner, whatever you want, I'm not strict about that kinda stuff. I've been teaching her for five years in the English department. This is my third year teaching this course. Usually, I do American Literature or Creative Writing courses, which I just came back from actually. I'm thirty-four and I'm best friends with Dr. Sullivan so that's why some of you may recognize me."

Billie glanced at Ben and Anaya. "Dr. Sullivan is another professor in the English department. She does more poetry and non-English literature." Ben explained. "Took a course with her last year."

"So." Nathan breathed, smiling at the students. He tried his best not to stare at Billie. For some reason, it was hard. "The syllabus is online so you can go over it on your own time and I don't want to just rehash everything that's on it but there are a few things I want to go over. This is an English 101 course so it will be very basic. We won't go too in-depth into certain topics, just making sure you know how to structure a paper, how to form a story, an argumentative paper. Stuff like that." He checked his notes on his desk. "Two argumentative papers and two short stories. All of which are required to have two thousand words per." 

A collective groan came from the class. Nathan let out a laugh. Two thousand words weren't much for him, but for a majority freshman class, it was.

"Don't worry, you can always use me as a resource or request a longer deadline if needed. As it says on the syllabus, my office hours are fairly flexible but I'm usually there from three to six on weekdays. Just shoot me an email." Nathan reassured. He knew a lot of freshmen got overwhelmed with the amount of papers they had to get done in a certain time frame, usually Nathan tried to time his deadlines so they didn't interfere with others. "Alright… ice breakers. What's your name? Or preferred name. Preferred pronouns. Major. And let's do our favorite media. Extra points if it's a book." He winked at no one in particular. 

"So, I'll go first. Nate. He/him but I don't mind if you use they/them for me. Not picky. Obviously, I'm in the English department but I've also published a few books. They're kinda popular with you young folks." Nate had to slip a small brag in there. Honestly, he wasn't sure how his books were popular in the first place. "Favorite media, uhhh… books. Lately, I've been reading some mystery novels." He then handed the conversation over to the student closest to him.

Nathan would occasionally ask questions regarding the favorite media question, just trying to see what his students liked and why. Perhaps they'd insert their interest in their paper somehow. He didn't mind. 

Billie pursed her lips a little as the conversation got to her. "I'm Billie. I go by she/her. I'm a studio art major. I like listening to music."

Billie. Nathan formulated the name in his head. It was nice. And seemingly fit her well.

"Favorite song? Could be whatever you're listening to a lot of right now." Nathan asked with a soft smile. He liked getting to know his students so this wasn't out of left field for him.

The young woman shrugged. "Uh, there's this song called Better. It's by an Indie band. Austin and the Powers." She certainly didn't expect anyone to know it besides her friends. She'd blast the song around them.

Nathan nodded as they moved to the next person. Maybe he'd give that song a listen.

—---

Sasha let out a yawn, running a hand through her hair before she looked through the lens of one of the camera. She wanted to establish a good setting shot. With the help of Kristen, of course. Sasha wasn't the best at actually handling a camera but she could make do. 

"Hey, uh, can I talk to you for a moment?" Bryan's voice came from behind her. 

Sasha thought all the cast already went back home for the day. Or, their trailers. She glanced at the dark-haired actor and sighed. Kristen would be fine, she had an entire team and was doing this far longer than Sasha was. So they complied and walked a few feet away with Bryan.

Slowly, Sasha was getting used to being near Bryan but that didn't mean they weren't still nervous. "What's up?" They asked.

"I was, uh…" Bryan paused for a moment. Maybe he was a bit too nervous already but he'd push through. He wanted to get to know Sasha and not do what a lot of actors did—work with each other until after the movie craze died down and never talk to each other again. Bryan didn't have too many friends who understood his lifestyle, which he was partly thankful for but he also felt so… so lonely. "Would you like to get a coffee with me sometime?" His eyes flicked up to finally meet Sasha's.

Sasha blinked at Bryan. They didn't think… Maybe? Actually, no. "Sure." They let out a small breath, giving him a smile. "We're not filming on Thursday. That an okay day for you?"

"Y-Yeah!" Bryan's eyes lit up at the admission. "I don't exactly have any other plans." 

—---

Sasha wasn't sure why they felt so compelled to dress nicely. Maybe because it was colder out and they had more winter clothes than summer ones. Or maybe it was the fact the man they had a crush on had asked them out on a date? They weren't even sure. So they put on a nice, dark cable-knit sweater, a long coat, a pair of loose-fitting jeans, and boots that made them almost the same height as Bryan. 

When Sasha arrived at the coffee shop, she saw Bryan right outside the door. Something about this weather and the scruff on his face… Sasha paused on the sidewalk. She felt her cheeks flare with heat. What was happening to her?

"Hey." Bryan spoke up, taking in Sasha's appearance. 

"Hey." Sasha said softly. Their breath was warm and they were almost enough that Bryan could feel it slightly.

He coughed, opening the door for her. They entered together and were immediately hit with warmth and the smell of roasted coffee. In New York, in the middle of fall, there were quite a lot of people in the coffee shop. Meaning Sasha got a lot of stares. None were brave enough to ask for a picture or start talking to her, which she was somewhat grateful for. She didn't want this to scare Bryan or something. 

"I can pay if you want." Sasha offered with a light smile.

Bryan shook his head. "I'm the one who asked you out. I'm not above paying for overpriced coffee to hang out with someone I like." He didn't realize what he said until it was too late.

He liked Sasha? Their heart skipped a beat. Or two. "Oh, um, yeah. Okay." 

"Hi, I'd like a caffé Americano with a shot of cream." Bryan said to the barista at the register.

She typed in a few things as she nodded. "Alright. Anything else?" She gave the pair a courtesy smile. 

"Just a hot mocha with whipped cream." Sasha added. Coffee wasn't their favorite thing in the world but it was cold and they weren't in the mood for hot chocolate.

Bryan swiped his card as he gave the barista his name and said a small thank you. The pair found a table near the counter so they could sit while they waited for their names to be called. 

Sasha spoke first. "So, uh… The cast is having a bit of a get-together at a restaurant down the street. I was wondering if you were coming?" Her tone was a bit nervous, eyes shifting from Bryan to the edge of the table. 

"Jesse told me about it. Um, I know he's going." Bryan admitted with a sigh. He wasn't sure if he should. It sounded like he'd be outnumbered, age-wise. Sure, Vanessa, Teyonah, and Jesse were going but so were Kit, Iman, and Jenna. The young actors that played Billie's friend and girlfriend. But maybe it would be nice to get to know them too. It was a little easier to get to know Sasha since they were in their mid-twenties compared to the early-twenties the others were. "I mean, I'm not one to deny free food." He joked.

Sasha laughed softly. She wasn't either. However, she was the one paying for it. "I'll make sure to save you a seat." She winked.

Bryan pursed his lips, taking in a breath. Was that meant to be flirtatious? He wondered what it'd be like if Sasha actually tried instead of whatever that was.

"Order for Bryan!" 

Both their heads turned at the mention of their coffee. Bryan stood and grabbed both of them, handing the coffee Sasha ordered to them. Their hands brushed ever so slightly. Bryan quickly took a sip of his. Somehow, the caffeine calmed him. Something familiar was nice to feel. 

"So, uh, how did you bring this cast together?" Bryan asked. He was a bit curious since it seemed a little weird to him that he was the main character. 

All these other actors were pretty well known. Jesse was the perfect candidate to be the lead. He was in similar age and had far more fame than Bryan. Jesse was in Grey's Anatomy after all. Bryan was just a guy. A guy who did a bit of acting in smaller roles and one or two games. 

That topic was not the one Sasha wanted to talk about but they weren't going to lie. "I, uh, I don't know. I've kind of always had a cast in mind for the movies I'd do. For instance, I knew about you from Detroit: Become Human and—I don't know." Sasha stopped themself. "It's a good game and so I looked at some of your other stuff. It was…" They took a sip of their coffee to get their mind running properly.

Bryan cocked an eyebrow. Sasha knew who he was? Not only that but she might have played the game he was in? Fuck. 

"Interesting to say the least." Sasha finished after a minute. "I don't want to say anything bad since you're right in front of me." They admitted with a small, nervous laugh.

Bryan swallowed. "I can take criticism." Sasha wasn't so sure about that.

"It's not about you." Sasha's eyes widened. She didn't want to make it seem like she hated the work he was in. "I just… I don't know. Some of them were weird. You're a great actor! And you're great in all of them! The plot and shit was just very…" Sasha shuddered about Dreams of a Petrified head. "Weird as fuck." 

Bryan blinked. Sasha thought he was a great actor? Well, he'd have a lot to live up to. "Thanks… I guess?" He played with the buttons on the cuffs of his jacket. 

Sasha pursed their lips. "That sounded meaner than I wanted it to." They fiddled with the top of their coffee cup, clicking and unclicking one of the tabs.

Bryan shook his head with a soft smile. He had a lot of patience. With time, he was sure Sasha could articulate her feelings a little better. Not that he minded her ramblings. 

"I like you." Sasha sighed. "I want to be your friend. I've wanted to be your friend for years." She smiled lightly, as if a memory resurfaced. "I remember the first time I saw a Let's Play of DBH, it was Séan because of course it was, and I just… I couldn't get the game out of my head. Your character was just so loveable. And I think it takes a great actor to do that. To make a character so memorable. A writer can only do so much."

Bryan didn't expect to be showered in compliments or for Sasha to be so honest with their feelings. It was a lot to take in all at once. His heart couldn't take it. Perhaps friends wasn't enough but he'd accept it if that's all Sasha wanted. 

He took a breath. "I like you too." Bryan whispered, glancing up at Sasha's eyes. They were a nice shade of deep green. "You're really pretty." 

Sasha's cheeks flushed. She wasn't expecting that. She downed the rest of her coffee. Sometimes she forgot how she looked. Or perhaps that she was attractive to the majority of people. "Thanks. You too." Sasha stammered out quickly.

That was a new one. Bryan bit his tongue, his smile threatening to widen. "Thank you too."

Sasha let out a breath and internally slapped herself. What the hell even was that? She needed to scream into a pillow. They suddenly stood up and plastered on a smile. "I need to go. But I'll see you tonight?" They just wanted to make sure. But they couldn't help the hopeful tone in their words. 

"Yeah. Jesse would've dragged me along anyway." Bryan nodded.

—---

As Sasha got in her car, they slammed their head against the steering wheel. What the hell did they get themself into? She was in a situationship with her co-star while she was the head of production. Fuck. Did that violate workplace regulations? 

The sound of her phone going off pulled her from her thoughts. Sasha fished for it in her pockets.

Jenna.

"Hey, Sasha!" Jenna's cheery tone always made Sasha smile. They had a bit of an age gap—only four years—but it never felt like that. "What happened with Bryan?" 

Ugh. Did they even want to talk about it?

Sasha started up their car and sighed as they put their phone on the dash. Bluetooth immediately connected so Sasha could hear Jenna through their car. "I basically confessed to him. Told him how much I liked the game. How much I liked… him." 

"Shit, really?" Jenna chuckled out of surprise. "Why do you sound so… down?"

"Because I wasn't planning to." Sasha rolled her eyes, glancing through her rearview mirror.

Jenna let out another laugh. "Look, it was gonna happen sooner or later. I'm a little surprised he didn't say anything earlier." Sasha squinted her eyes. What did Jenna mean by that? "Me and Jesse may or may not have been talking. Scheming, if you will." 

Sasha shook their head with disappointment. "What does that even mean?"

"It means Bryan definitely likes you too. So don't think too hard about it." Sasha could hear Jenna's smile on the other line.

Another voice cut in. A British one. "Yeah, he's definitely hopelessly in love with you." Kit. "I'm a little surprised you didn't notice the way he looked at you during our scene yesterday. And it wasn't because he was in character." 

"You two are sharing a cigarette, aren't you?" Sasha cocked an eyebrow. Not mad. Not even disappointed, she was amused.

The voices paused, knowing she'd caught them. "You're not our mom. Bye!" Jenna hung up.

Sasha shook her head. She didn't care about cigarettes one way or another but it made her laugh just how secretive Jenna and Kit were about it. Probably because they didn't want their fans to get upset. 

As Sasha made it to her apartment, they let out a sigh. Jenna's words were starting to sink into her. Bryan liked her. And not just as a friend. Sasha hoped that was true. They set their keys on their counter, glancing around. Their roommate was out. Probably at their job. Sasha went to her room, opening up her closet. 

If Bryan did like her, tonight would be the best way to test that. Nothing horrible. It just included a more revealing outfit than what Sasha usually wore. Sasha pursed her lips as she sifted through clothes. Some she may or may have not stolen from wardrobe to keep. No one made them do this, they just wanted to see the look on his face. 

Eventually, they picked out a black silk dress that draped in front of the chest and stopped just above Sasha's ankles. The restaurant itself wasn't that fancy but… duty calls. Sasha put it on a felt… hot. They looked themself in the mirror and hummed a little. The tattoos on her arms showed but it was still cold, she'd have to wear a jacket. Thankfully, Sasha had a leather one. 

Lily, Sasha's roommate, knocked on their door. "Hey, friend, I brought some burgers home!" So she was at her partner's house. Not work. Sasha opened the door only for Lily to let out a whistle. "Thought you didn't date." She cocked an eyebrow. It was no secret Sasha was Demiromantic so this must've been really important to her.

"I don't. This is for work." Sasha lied smoothly. It wasn't a lie, per se, but they didn't need to dress up.

Lily still didn't believe it. "Who's the guy? And if you say Kit… I didn't take you for that kind of person. Usually it's, like, Mads Mikkelsen, Charlie Cox, y'know. That's more your type." 

Sasha rolled their eyes. They were six years older than Kit. "It's not. It's, uh," Suddenly, they were really shy. "It's Bryan. Bryan Dechart." Sasha didn't tell Lily anything about the movie since she wanted it to be a surprise so Lily didn't even know he was in the movie.

"Connor?" Lily's mouth dropped open. "Fuck. You've liked him for forever. Sounds like a dream come true." She winked.

Sasha deadpanned. "Shut the hell up."

"All I'm saying is that if he doesn't take you home tonight, he'll be making a huge ass mistake." Lily teased softly. "After Connor, he's probably really good with his hand–"

"Okay, no!" Sasha slammed the door shut, sitting down at their desk as they ran a hand through their hair. 

Sasha wondered if the length would scare Bryan off. It was shorter than his at this point. Sasha took a deep breath as she glanced up at the vanity in front of her. 

Relationships, romantic ones at least, didn't come easy for them. Bryan would be the only one Sasha actually cared about. Maybe it was just the nervousness in their system. Not to mention, Sasha wasn't a girl. They were feminine, but not a girl. As far as they knew, Bryan was straight. Only interested in the gender opposite to his. Would this even work? Sasha ran a hand down their face. Was it worth it? 

She sure hoped so. 

[jasntodds]

Hey anyway don’t be this person

I put this shit out for FREE in my spare time. I post it to share with you guys for fun and telling people that a chapter is a waste of time is rude and that’s why I don’t update nearly as often or check comments on Wattpad hardly ever. It takes no effort to shut the fuck up and not say something is a waste of time

[nihilnat]

Your favorite song

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4]

Summary: When Vecna’s curse affects you, someone who doesn’t consider himself as a hero outside of D&D comes to save you with his amazing guitar skills, playing your favorite song to save you from it.

Author’s Note: Heavily follows the plot and contains spoilers! If you haven’t watched S4 I wouldn’t recommend reading this fic. Maybe you could save it for later? The summary is for the entire series, not only for this chapter. I highly recommend you to check out the previous chapters! I try to follow the plot as strictly as possible but there are certain changes. Hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: 3.9k

What to Expect: Reader x Eddie Munson, Dustin being Dustin, Getting to know more about reader’s trauma with her parents (verbally abusive elements take place so if it is triggering for you then don’t read the fic pls), Reader seeing visions just like Chrissy and Fred’s etc.

Spoilers below cut, you have been warned!

After Dustin said, ‘That’s what we’re gonna find out.’ he started to give a speech about bravery and courage. ‘Guys, I know this is going to be tough but we have to stand tall and overpower the supreme evil: Vecna. We just have to make plans and act accordingly if we want to learn more information and conquer his throne… SO WHO’S WITH ME?’

No sound. You were all looking at each other, trying to calculate your chances of winning this war. In the meantime, Dustin was looking at all of you with wide eyes and open arms, waiting for someone to say something. You could see the expectancy in his eyes. As you were still looking around the room, he became more frustrated. He turned to Steve and said,

‘Steve, you’ve done this THOUSANDS of times. You saved our lives and risked yours over and over again. I’m asking you to do it one more time.’

‘...’ Steve was hesitant. He knitted his eyebrows.

‘AW C’MON MAN!’ Dustin shouted and wasted no time, turning to Eddie:

‘What about you, the almighty dungeon master?’

‘Dustin… you know I’m a wanted man, right?’ Eddie replied. Dustin was growing impatient.

‘Max?’ He asked to the girl next to him. 

‘Nope.’

Lastly, he turned to Robin. 

‘Robin, sweet Robin. I know I can always count on you… right?’ 

Robin was looking around the room, trying to act like she was clueless. When she heard her name coming from Dustin’s mouth, she turned to him and said ‘What? I’m sorry I wasn’t listening. 

Only then, Dustin snapped.

‘No guys COME ON. You’re joking right? You have GOT to be joking !’

After seeing his crazy movements and the way he was strolling furiously around the room, Max started to laugh, she wasn’t able to hold her composure anymore.  

Dustin turned to Max, not being able to comprehend anything. ‘What are you laughing at!?’ He said, his voice cracking in a funny way when he highered the pitch of his tone. Unable to stop laughing at how funny he looked, Max said ‘I’m sorry-’ and continued to laugh a little more.

Becoming more angry than ever, Dustin stopped his little stroll and walked in front of Max. He looked at her straight in the eye… then pulled a strand of her hair. He was acting like he was in a huge fight but it was more like a scene you would normally see in a comedy movie. When Max started to yelp in pain, Steve yelled ‘Hey HEY HEY!’ and stepped between the two of them. He pulled Dustin away from her but he was still trying to get a hold of her, squinting his eyes and mumbling some words under his breath while pouting. 

Steve grabbed his shoulders and steadied Dustin, telling ‘Henderson, HENDERSON STOP. We were just messing with you. Of course we will fight whatever this is, together. And I gotta save your ass a couple more times because you clearly can’t.’

‘Also, what the hell was that? Apologize from Max, dude. That wasn’t cool. Like, super not cool.’ Steve shook his head in disapproval, being overly dramatic the way he always did when it came to Dustin.

Dustin turned to Max, hands clasped together in front of his body. He was looking at the ground and he sighed, ‘I apologize Max.’ He was looking like a guilty little cat, with his tail between his legs. All of you were laughing at the view in front of you now.

‘Sorry Dustin, what was that? Couldn’t hear you.’ Max replied with a grin on her face. She already heard what he said but she was just enjoying the moment.

                                                        **** 

You were now in Steve’s car with the others, except Eddie of course. After the little prank they did to Dustin, everybody thought That it was better to divide into two groups: Nancy and Robin were going to go to the local library to find more information while Max, Dustin and Steve were going to the school's guidance counselor in hopes of finding a reason to Chrissy's murder. 

While they were sorting out the groups, you asked ‘Hold on, so Nancy is going to help us too? That's awesome!’ You liked her and more importantly, Steve liked her. You knew he had a crush on her from the beginning and you always teased him about it. You were now doing the same thing, looking at Steve with a smug smirk on your face from the rearview mirror. When he heard the excitement in your voice and saw that silly little smirk on your face, he couldn't help but to put a smile on his face. Oh by the way, Dustin liked to tease him too, like a lot.

‘Steve loves Naancy, Steve loves Nancyyy…’

‘Okay shut up Henderson.’ He was already done with Dustin’s nagging. He hoped that Dustin would shut up but on the contrary, you listened to Dustin saying the same thing over and over again for the rest of your ride home. At least the ride wasn't that long. 

When Steve got closer to your house, he slowed down and asked: ‘You sure you don't want to come with us?’

‘I've got school work to do but I'll catch you guys later. Good luck!’

And after all the good goodbyes, they drove off and disappeared into the woods.

                                                                   **** 

The thing you said about school work was actually a lie. After the nightmare you saw last night, you wanted to be alone. You didn't want to go back to your house but you had nowhere else to go. So, you gathered all your courage and now you were standing in the front yard. All the memories you had in that house, the good and the bad came rushing into your head. But it wasn't like what you feared. It was more like a sweet, nostalgic feeling. 

As you opened the door and took a step in, you finally understood how much you have missed the place. Everything was perfectly in its place. There was even a little layer of dust covering the surfaces of the objects you had laying around in your house. You quickly climbed up the stairs, rushing to get inside your bedroom. 

When you opened the door of your bedroom, you felt this big wave of nostalgia hit you like never before. Your favorite stuffed animal was right next to your big, fluffy pillows and after the night you stayed in the shack with Eddie, you definitely needed a comfortable bed to sleep on. It was getting dark and at that moment, all you ever wanted was to sleep in your bed, surrounded by the feeling of familiarity. 

You immediately switched on the lights, opened your wardrobe and grabbed a pair of pajamas. You then closed the curtains and started to change; you sat on your bed and untied the lace of your shoes. While you were trying to get rid of your shoes quickly, you heard a voice calling your name. 

It was a low-pitched man's voice and it almost sounded like a grunt. ‘(Y/N)’ he said. Hearing the tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. As your mind started to wander whose voice could that be, the deep voice called out your name once again. It sounded like it was coming from downstairs. So you slowly put down the pair of shoes you had in your hands, got up from the bed and without hurrying, you made your way to the door of your bedroom. You reached for the handle of the door. Once your fingertips touched the handle, the lights in your room started to flicker. 

You’ve experienced shortage or other electrical problems before but this was nowhere close to your older experiences. While the lights were still flickering, you thought of opening the curtains to check if your neighbors were having the same problem. But when you took a step back from the door, the lights started to flicker wildly and a voice called out your name again. But it wasn’t the same deep voice that you’ve heard a few seconds ago. It belonged to your mother. 

Her sweet, silky voice was now coming from just outside of your bedroom, behind the closed door. You turned to the door and slowly grabbed the handle, waiting to hear more from her. You felt like your mind was playing games to you but at the same time you were trying to be as cautious as possible because there was something off, clearly. Although you thought you were dreaming or worse, seeing yet another nightmare, you were fully conscious of your actions and you were able to feel the coldness of the metal door handle.  

‘Honey, my hands are full! Please open the door for me so I can get insiide!’ She sounds so real, you thought to yourself. What if it’s all real? What if she’s right here, behind the door?

While you were deep in thoughts, you didn’t make a single move or a noise. You heard your mother’s voice once again, then again and again. Each time, she was growing more frustrated. You were able to tell that by the sound of her voice. Then she stopped talking.

And the deep manly voice started to talk again: ‘(Y/N), you can’t escape from your past. It’s time for you to face it!’ With that, the lights started to flicker one last time. All the flashing and confusion made you feel dizzy and your head started to spin. You turned your back against the door and you slowly collapsed to the floor. You were on the verge of crying when suddenly, you heard your mother’s voice one last time. 

This time, there was no sign of that sweet little voice you heard earlier. It was now filled with hatred and disgust. She was calling you names and saying verbally abusive things to you… Just like the way she used to do back then. 

‘You are a fucking coward (Y/N). YOU HEAR ME? YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN. You are NOTHING but a disappointment in our eyes. Don’t you EVER forget that!’

And just like that, you were crying. Crying from fear, confusion, sadness. But it was mostly anger. All this time, you tried to remember the happy moments you had with your parents before the mall fire but the bad memories always overcame them. You tried to remember them as good people but the way they acted towards you, the pain they left you with always seemed to stick, no matter how hard you tried to forget. Of course you loved them but… There was always going to be a ‘but’. 

As the voice kept getting louder and louder after each word, you started to cry even harder. While you were on the floor sitting, you brought your knees closer to you and slightly lowered your head, keeping it between your legs. You were shaking your head, yelling ‘No, no, no, no, NO!’ repeatedly. You wanted to escape but it felt impossible.

                                                                      ****

After the horrible hallucination or whatever it was you had last night, you woke up on the floor with a terrible headache. You tried to remember what happened after you started to cry and yell for help but you couldn’t seem to remember anything. I probably passed out, you thought to yourself. 

You got off the floor, quickly went to change your clothes and went downstairs to get a painkiller. You didn’t want to dwell on last night but it was haunting you, you needed to tell someone about it. Or would have they thought that you were going crazy? 

You tried to leave these thoughts behind as you walked out of the house and started to look around for your old trust-worthy bike. In hopes of being able to distract yourself, you hopped on your bike and headed to Wheelers’ house. You thought of spending alone time with Nancy as she was one of your closest friends. 

But to your surprise, Steve, Dustin, Max, Robin and Lucas were there too. When you knocked on the door, Mrs Wheeler opened it and greeted you with her charming usual smile. At first she was surprised to see you but she welcomed you sweetly and let you in. While you were making your way to Nancy’s bedroom, Mrs Wheeler asked if you had your breakfast and said ‘If you hadn’t, feel free to join us! I’ve made some pancakes and I know you’ll love ‘em!’ You kindly declined her offer and passed by the kitchen. As you were passing by, Mr Wheeler saw you and he sighed loudly, saying ‘Great! Another kid!’ 

You acted like you didn’t see nor hear him. He was always in a grumpy mood so it wasn’t anything unusual. You were thinking about what he said, so clearly there were others inside. You were still walking when suddenly you saw everyone gathered around Max in the living room. 

Her face was more pale than usual, it was as if she saw a ghost or something. She was telling a story, one that made everyone go silent. They saw that you came but none of them made a noise. Nancy made a quick small move to you to come and sit with them silently. And you did as she wanted. 

Max was trying to appear as normal but it was obvious how frightened she was from the way she was acting. You knew her for some time now and whenever something bad happened to her, she tried to hide her feelings the best she can and tried to look stoic. You wondered if she finally decided to open up about what she had been through after Billy’s death but she was talking about something else: About her death.

                                                         ****

A few minutes passed and you started to understand what was going on. Also when Max finished telling her story, they made a small recap for you:

After they dropped you off, Steve’s group went to Ms. Kelley’s house and Max tried to talk to her about Chrissy but she was so strict about students’ confidentiality so while she was distracted, Max took the keys to her office and ran back to Steve’s car. After a small ride to the school, they broke into the office and looked at Chrissy and Fred’s patient files. After investigating a little, they found that Chrissy and Fred were showing the same symptoms before they were found dead. 

Until this point, everything seemed somewhat normal but after this, things were starting to get stranger. When they found the same information on both of the files, Max said that she started to realize she was having the same troubles as they did. Constant headaches, a (preferably) fresh trauma, seeing weird hallucinations, trouble sleeping etc.

When you heard her say those things, you started to feel tense. You were having the same problems as they have had too. But Max wasn’t done talking so she continued and you didn’t say anything. 

After they found the information they needed, she said that they started to pack their things in order to leave the office. As they were packing, she claimed that she heard a voice. A deep, manly voice calling her name. She said that the source was coming from the hallway and the others seemed to not care, so she left the others and went outside alone to look at what was happening in there. When she got out, she heard a noise -she quickly made an imitation of it for you to understand it better- and saw a big ancient grandfather clock at the end of the hallway. The same voice called out her name once again.

Then suddenly, she stopped talking. Her eyes began to get watery, she looked like she was in pain. She was trying so hard to be brave, that was very typical of Max but was it really necessary in a situation like this? It almost seemed impossible to you. 

After steadying herself a little, she looked at each one of you in the eye. She was having a hard time trying to find the right words. Later, she explained the timeline of what Chrissy and Fred went through and when exactly those things happened to them. Lastly she said, ‘I don’t know how much time I’ve left but looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.’

Everyone was devastated and none of you seemed to have an answer nor a solution for her. Your heart was breaking. You could’ve done anything in your power to save you from this curse but you were not able to do anything at that moment. None of you were.

And it was time for Robin and Nancy to share the news that they had. They said that they looked at old newspapers and searched their headlines about supernatural things happening around Hawkins. They claimed that they searched through them for hours and finally, they found a headline with Victor Creel in it. Turns out they’ve read the article and thought that this man could be very helpful. He was also the guy Eddie’s uncle mentioned in a previous interview she did with him, Nancy stated. He said that Victor used to do the same thing to his previous victims and that she had to find a way to talk to him. And she added that Robin and her thought that he was the only person who could’ve helped them, even though he was a cold-blooded serial killer. 

‘Isn’t he locked up somewhere?’ Lucas asked genuinely.

‘Yes, in a mental asylum to be exact.’ Robin stated.

‘Uh how are you guys going to-’

‘We’ll find a way, don’t worry about it.’ said Nancy. 

                                                                     ****

After the discussion, everyone was now dealing with other stuff: They were either spending time with Max, trying to spend time with her and not leave her alone in case something happened to her or they were making a plan to reach Victor Creel. 

You felt really sorry about Max, but you couldn’t help but wonder about your own situation. You were afraid, confused and you felt all alone but you didn’t make a sound because you simply didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself when Max’s situation was far more urgent. 

Deep in thoughts, you heard a faint noise coming from under one of the couch pillows. You simply made your way over to the source of the noise, not sure if you were seeing one of the visions again. You slowly flipped the cushion over, trying to be as careful as possible but you saw a walkie talkie under it. You sighed in relief as you took it in your hands. You were waiting for another noise from the person who was at the end of the line. 

‘Henderson… Wheeler? ANYBODY?!’ 

It was Eddie. From the sound of his voice, you could tell that he has been waiting for an answer for a long time. He sounded really frustrated and annoyed. You wondered how long he has been trying to reach out to one of you guys. So you wasted no time and touched the button to speak up. 

‘Eddie hi, it’s me.’

‘Ah, (Y/L/N), my personal favorite last name out of all the others I’ve been saying.’ He said with a gentle tone. Then quickly added:

‘For the PAST COUPLE OF HOURS.’ and continued, ‘You guys are coming, right? I’m kinda short on supplies here and I’m on the edge of having a mental breakdown because of staying here all by myself.’

‘Also, I missed you… like a lot, actually. Aand if you ever get a chance, please say hi to my guitar. My baby must’ve been so lonely.’ 

‘Okay easy now, Munson.’

‘First of all, we are kinda dealing with a lot right now and it could take a while for us to come to you. Also it would be better if we explain it to you in person. Other than that I missed you too and unfortunately I can’t go anywhere near your guitar because the inside of your trailer is considered a crime scene, you remember that?’

‘Uh I KNOW, goddammit!I just want to show her to you.’ You giggled a little at how cute he sounded when he was frustrated. 

‘I will meet her someday Eddie, I promise. Don’t worry about it now, okay? Just be safe.’

‘Okay now that I have your promise, I don’t want anything else. Although I can have a 6 pack. I know it’s not the best time to drink beer but-’

‘Just stay inside and we’ll try to come as soon as we can, okay? I’ll try to grab a 6 pack for you but I can’t make a promise about this one.’

‘Eh, I tried. See you soon, sweetheart.’

‘See ya Munson.’

                                                                    **** 

After your small talk with Eddie, you gathered everyone together and said what he wanted to say to the others: He needed a food delivery soon and wanted you guys to visit him. Although he wanted you guys near him, the others have already made other plans. Nancy and Robin were going to go to the asylum to talk with Victor Creel and Steve was going to babysit the kids. They left it up to you whether you wanted to go to the asylum or not. 

You were really worried about Max and wanted to spend time with her if these times were going to be her last. With time, pain brought you two closer, because of the mall fire. You tried to talk to her about her feelings and be there for her but she always had this barrier between her and the others. Though you always made sure she knew that you were there for her and she appreciated it no matter what. So you stayed with Steve and helped him babysit Dustin, Max and Lucas. 

While you were staying at the Wheelers’, you had no clue about what was happening to Eddie.  

                                                                     ****

Thank you so much for reading chapter three of the series!

If you like this part, let me know by liking, reblogging or even leaving a comment. All of it is appreciated. Also If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know.

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I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.9K

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 9/?

A/N: I wish I was a lot more consistent with my posting, but the sadsies sometimes take over and writing becomes extra hard. Also, working on a book so although I may write for some time I'm dividing it with that project as well. But I still hope ya'll enjoy this chapter 🥺 and also I apologize for any feels that may arise.

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Chapter 9

All I could do was stare wide-eyed at the man in front of me. My hands were shaking, my chest heaved, and my throat tightened. No one had ever told me they liked me, let alone that they were falling for me.

Heat started building inside me, bubbling to the surface in an uncontrollable way. I couldn’t stay there for much longer. The walls in my living room were closing in on me and suddenly the air felt heavy and unbreathable. I couldn’t tell if I was truly breathing or not, but my lungs ached for more oxygen as I took short and sharp breaths. Dizzily, I got up from the floor, clutching at anything that could steady me as I traveled the spinning room. All I needed was to reach the door that would lead me to the backyard – I needed air.

Derek’s voice echoed in my head, asking if I was alright, but I couldn’t answer. The knot in my throat tightened if I tried to speak. I knew he was worried. With his supernatural hearing I was sure he could witness the rapid speed at which my heart was beating, and probably the whooshing sounds I felt in my head.

Finally, my hands touched the cool metal of the backdoor, sliding it open as quickly as I could.

I understood what I was feeling. Not too long ago, Scott had brought me down from this feeling. I tried focusing on breathing, but the inhales only worked to add to the sting in my lungs. I fumbled in my pockets searching for the small device that could aid in my breathing, but noticing that they were empty, I outstretched my hands toward the blurry figure in front of me.

“(Y/N), what do you need?” Derek asked frantically.

My brain worked hard to group the letter together as well as provide enough oxygen to blurt out the words, as hard as it was. “In-in-inha-ler,” I choked out. “B-bed-bedroom.”

He disappeared for a few seconds, and in the blink of an eye was standing in front of me once more. Derek helped me sit on a chair as he guided the L-shaped plastic container to my lips. My shaky hands met his and tried pumping the medicine into myself, but my hands were too weak to do so. He ended up pumping the vial twice as I took in the deepest breath I could.

“Focus on my voice, (Y/N) .” I hadn’t noticed when another voice joined in. Looking up through glazed eyes, I saw Isaac’s figure talking me down. “Try to match my breathing, okay?”

I focused on the blond’s chest, matching my inhales and exhales to the movement of it. Some minutes later, I started stabilizing. Gripping my chest, I was able to steady my breathing and have my eyes focus on the picture before me. Isaac drew soothing circles on my back as he continued guiding my breathing. Focused on my friend, I hadn’t noticed that Derek had gone and fetched a glass of water.

“Feeling better?” Isaac questioned as I gulped down the cold water and nodded. “Good.”

“What are you doing here, Isaac?” Derek spoke in words of annoyance. His brow had remained furrowed since the arrival of his beta, angered that he had appeared.

“I came over to visit my friend,” he scoffed. “Am I not allowed to do that now?”

“You know you shouldn’t be near her so close to the full moon,” Derek reminded the boy. But it didn’t take an expert to know that his irritation was due to something else. “Your actions are unpredictable during this time, and you could hurt her.”

“Well, I didn’t trigger someone’s panic attack, and I feel quite in control. Can’t say the same about you.” Isaac pointed at the alpha’s hand. His claws had grown inside his fists and had penetrated the skin of his palm, droplets of blood trickling to the lawn. “If anyone is unpredictable right now, it’s not me.”

“How dare you speak to me that way?! You…”

“Guys, stop!” (Y/N) finally yelled out, the loudness rasping her throat. “Derek, just go.”

“But…”

“Go. Please,” I reiterated softly. Standing,  I placed a hand on his warm chest, trying to subside the pain I was causing him with my response. “I’ll call you later… I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just go.” With another menacing glance toward Isaac – and a sad stare toward me — he disappeared into the woods, leaving me and Isaac alone. For a second time, I felt the need to steady my breathing, scared that another attack would sprout. I sat on the steps of the wooden deck in a last attempt to steady the tremulous feeling rushing through me. “How did you get in?”

“You left the front door open,” Isaac answered matter-of-factly. “As I was walking up the door, I heard you gasping for air, so I rushed in. And thankfully it was open. You would’ve had to replace your front door before your parents came back.”

“You could always just use the side gate,” I chuckled. “But I’m just glad you were here.”

“So, wanna tell me what that was all about?” He sat next to me on the floor, staring up with a playful grin on his face.

“Not particularly,” I whined. But I knew I needed someone to talk to about this, and Isaac would probably be one of the only people to understand.

“Come on. I promise I won’t judge.”

I took a deep breath, slid down the chair to the floor, and unloaded. I told him everything – about the dream, my family, becoming a hunter, Allison’s jealousy. My mouth spoke rapidly, words spilling before I could process them. The events jumped out of the timeline, details being remembered as I spoke and quickly blurted. It felt as if my mouth was simply a printer of a jumble of words.

“Then, Derek told me he was falling for me, and I had a panic attack because I couldn’t handle the thought of someone actually having those kinds of feeling for me. And now you’re all caught up.”

“So Derek actually has emotions?” Isaac laughed. “I have to tell everyone.”

“Isaac, this is serious. He probably thinks I hate him or that I’m actually afraid of him, or something. Derek was openly vulnerable about his emotions, and I couldn’t handle it. And then I told him to leave! OH MY GOSH!” The realization had finally dawned on me. Derek had just confessed his feelings for me, and I probably reacted in the worse way possible. “What did I do, Isaac? He probably hates me now.”

“Highly doubt he thinks you hate him, (Y/N),” he soothed. “Look, I may not know much about Derek, but if everything you’ve said is true – and the things I may have witnessed are real – then there’s nothing you could do that will make him hate you. He might just be as confused as you are right now. Just take tonight to rest and try to talk to him later. Do you have feelings for him?”

“I wouldn’t know, honestly. Feelings, relationships, friendships, socializing… everything is just so new to me and it’s all happening so fast,” I exhaled exasperated. “One day I was the odd one out in this town and the next I’m a hunter surrounded by supernatural creatures in charge of protecting humans. I can’t handle it all – I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Isaac scooched closer and wrapped me in a hug. The warmth beaming from his body surrounded me. It was comforting, a welcome embrace after such an exhausting encounter. He felt like a safe haven for my emotional downpour – but he wasn’t the person I wanted to be with at that moment.

My brain could only conjure the image of Derek. The image of him engulfing me in his arms; the smell of his cologne attacking my sense; the soft patter of his heartbeat in my ear with my head on his chest; his hand stroking my hair. I wanted nothing more than to be back in the presence of Derek. But nothing that included feelings came naturally to me. All I knew was how to push people away, how to keep everyone at an arm’s length. For the first time in my life, I felt that everything was just out of my control.

“What do you want to do, then?” Isaac mumbled after a few minutes of quiet. He was rocking us softly back and forth, his chin resting on my head. “You can sleep on it, settle your emotions and talk to Derek tomorrow, or we can go there right now. Although I think he might be very angry at me right now for being here, and I’m not sure if he’ll grow angrier if I stay.” 

“I could also call him later.” 

“Don’t you think this is a conversation you should have face to face?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It would probably resolve things with Allison,” I scoffed. “Regardless, being with him is still illegal, and my family would probably be more inclined to kill him. Honestly, I don’t want to end up like Scott and Allison.”

“Then why accept becoming a hunter at all? Why don’t you just say you don’t want to be a part of this?”

“It’s my family’s legacy, Isaac,” I sighed. It was true that most of my problems could be obviated had I declined a position as a hunter, but that would mean turning my back to my own family – Uncle Chris, Allison, my mom, my dad. “Whether I had met you guys, the people of Beacon Hills, or not, my life was directed to becoming an Argent hunter. Having someone on the inside can only be beneficial for you guys, though. Keep you all safe from my own people.”

“That’s very noble of you,” he laughed. “But what do you want for yourself, (Y/N)? All I’ve heard is what you’re doing for other people, and it’s all very honorable, but not once have you said what you want. And if there’s anything I’ve learned from my life, when it comes to feelings you get to be selfish – you need to be.”

“How do I know if I’m making the right decision?”

“Well,” he started. I could tell he was unsure of how to navigate this conversation. His friend was going on a downward spiral about his alpha – it just felt weird. “Don’t process. Just answer the first person that comes into your head. Can you do that?” 

“I can try,” I confessed.

“How would you feel if Derek wasn’t in your life?”

I do as Isaac asks, and I don’t think. The first thing that blurts out of my mouth is, “I would be devastated. As much as I’ve pushed him away, now that he’s stepped into my life, I don’t remember how it was without him in it.”

“Okay,” he continued. “Do you feel safe when you’re with him?”

“Since the beginning.”

“Are you willing to accept all aspects of his life – the good and the bad?”

“I couldn’t see him doing anything bad enough that it’d push me away.”

“And, finally,” he breathed out. “If push comes to shove, would you be able to renounce being a hunter in order to be with him?”

It took me a second longer to answer this question. I knew what Isaac was asking – would I be able to choose love over family. And my answer was, “Yes.”

“Go to him,” he blurted.

“What?”

“He’s gonna be waiting by the door for you. I know it,” he chuckled softly. “You owe it to yourself to figure out everything that’s gonna happen between you two.”  

Isaac’s arms finally let up on my body and pulled me up to my feet, wiping away the streaks of tears that had cascaded down my cheeks. He drove me in the direction of the garage before disappearing into the house, probably to ransack the kitchen. My body stood still as Brody sat on my side; I hadn’t noticed he’d made his way downstairs. Whether he was calming me down or begging for a walk, I wouldn't know. All I had to do was open the white door and get on my bike, but my body stayed frozen.   

“Just go, (Y/N)!” Isaac hollered from the kitchen, somehow knowing I was taking my time to twist the handle. “We’ve still got school tomorrow.”  

“FINE!” I called back. “Can you feed Brody and take him out for a walk?”

“Yeah! Just GO already!”

My hands turned the doorknob, the motion sensor light sprouting to life as soon as the door swiveled. With a breath of courage, my hands grabbed my keys. And before I knew it, I was speeding down the streets of Beacon Hills toward Derek’s home. Houses quickly turned into industrial buildings, the city noise drowning out as I reached where he lived.

The roaring of my bike would have alerted him that I was there, but he didn’t come out. I killed the engine and balanced it on the stand. I took my time from taking off my helmet to walking to his door, using those seconds to stabilize my breath and my heartbeat.

It took half a knock for the metal door to slide open, revealing a disheveled Derek behind it. He was wearing a grey tank top, sweat droplets forming on his forehead and a dark ring on the collar of his shirt. His breath was heavy and his skin was red – he had been letting off some steam.

“ (Y/N),” he breathed out. I wasn’t sure if it was a sigh of relief. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“You can thank Isaac for that,” I chuckled. I stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, uncertainty clouding my mind in an instant. Derek didn’t speak either. The sound of his breathing was the only assurance that the moment was happening. “Can I come in?” 

“Y-yeah, of course.” He moved out of the way, using the small towel he wore on his shoulder to wipe away the sweat. “Sit down for a sec while I change, okay?”

“Sure,” I smiled. Derek disappeared into a room as I made my way to the couch in the center of the space. The place was unusually quiet, for a place that inhabited teenagers that is.

I took in the unusual surroundings. The industrial loft wasn’t exactly magazine worthy, but I guessed being the alpha of a pack of teenagers whilst fighting other supernatural entities didn’t allow for too much time on interior decorating. The strangest thing was the huge bed in front of the couch. It seemed to be his, far too big for anyone else living here. Had he given up a room for the other kids?

“I’m glad you’re here.” His voice startled me, making me jump slightly on my seat. His hair was wet, and he smelled of fresh cologne. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thanks. Where’s everyone else?”

“Don’t know. I don’t really keep tabs on them other than for training,” Derek shrugged. He brought over two water bottles regardless of my answer and sat on the other end of the couch. I could tell he was still pondering what this conversation would entail. “I’m glad you’re here, (Y/N). How everything went down wasn’t exactly how I envisioned that to go.”

“I owe you an apology, Derek.”

“No. No, you don…”

“I do, Derek. You were being vulnerable, and I couldn’t handle it,” I started. “The truth is, I think I am also falling for you, and that… that terrifies me. I’ve never been in a situation where so many feelings are involved and navigating them in such a short amount of time had me spiraling.”

“ (Y/N), I…”

“Please, let me finish.” The sentence came out more like a question than a plea. “I fear if I don’t say everything as it’s mapped out in my head, it’ll get misconstrued at some point.”

“Alright,” he accepted.

“Thanks,” I exhaled. I hadn’t noticed that the air wasn’t filling my lungs completely, and they ached for more oxygen. My body sprung up, standing to help me breathe. Even so, I continued. “As I told you, my family and me have moved around my entire life, and establishing real relationships is something I’ve avoided out of self-preservation. Now, for the first time in my life, I am starting to learn to plant roots. Yet, one thing I know for sure is that even though these feelings are alien to me, I want to feel them with you. I want to learn about all of this with you by my side. But…” 

“But?” Derek interrupted. He stood and was towering over me, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Sorry, go on.”

“But in one year’s time.” 

“I must say, you lost me there. “

“I’m seventeen, Derek.”  My tone was as-a-matter-of-factly. My aunt may have been swinging for the little leagues, but I wouldn’t let Derek play that same game. “Not only will I be eighteen, but I also think I could find a way to have enough standing in the family to change us from within. It would make the relationship so much easier. I don’t want to end up like Scott and Allison, hiding and looking over our shoulders at all times. And I also wouldn’t like you to go to jail.” 

“Okay, that makes sense,” he chuckled. “And what would that look like?”

“I imagine the same thing we’ve been doing up to this point. Only, we’re sure you won’t be going to jail,” I half-joked.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he smirked cockily.

“But seriously, Derek.” My gaze caught his, the hand I laid on his chest warming instantly. “The less ammo my family has on you, the better. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you because of me.”

“I can take care of myself, (Y/N),” he whispered. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

“But I might be able to minimize the threat toward you. At least from my family,” I sighed. “Seriously, Derek. I know my dad wouldn’t mind, but I’m sure the rest of the Argent gang would jump at the chance to get you out of the way. For good.”

He remained quiet for a couple of seconds, digesting the words that had poured from my mouth. Then a toothy grin appeared on his face as his arms circled my waist.  “A year, then?”

“I know it might seem like a long time, but I know it’s worth it. But I can’t ask you to wait for me.”

“ (Y/N)…”

“I’m being realistic, Derek. I can’t ask that of you.” My eyes faltered, falling on my feet to hide the tears that burned the back of my eyes. “I know I can and want to wait for you – I’ve gone my whole life, one year is nothing. But I couldn’t do that to you. Just when next year comes, and you still feel the same for me, then we dive into this completely.”

I knew that I could never predict our outcome, only time could tell whether or not what I felt for Derek would be strong enough to withstand the trials of time. Although, I desired for him to choose me the whole way. But circumstance had decided to test our patience. And as much as it would tear me apart to see him with someone else, I had no way of controlling what he did or felt.

His hand landing on my chin brought me out of my wandering thoughts. His whole face had softened, his eyes holding that warmth that I had only seen directed toward me. And then he said, “I would wait for you until the end of time, (Y/N),” Derek smiled. His thumb wiped away the small tear that had fallen at some point, sending a tantalizing shiver through my body. “I haven’t had the best luck with relationships in my life, but I’ve never felt like this before. You’re something else, (Y/N) Argent.”

“You have no idea how relieving it is to hear you say that,” I breathed out. We closed some of the distance between us by touching our foreheads together, closing our eyes to revel in the contact. The proximity was alluring and the thought of pressing our lips together inundated my mind. But we had just agreed to hold all forms of intimacy off for a year, and my resolve wasn’t that bad. “What’re you thinking right now?”

“How much I want to kiss you but can’t,” he chuckled. “I have to keep reminding myself that my determination is strong enough to withhold.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” I teased. “You know, I think this will be a lot harder than we’re anticipating.”

“We have to be stronger than this. Cause we won’t make it the year.”

“Maybe – now hear me out – maybe, we just get it out of our system,” I grinned. “Just one kiss to solidify our compromise.”

“I don’t think if we start, I’ll be able to stop, (Y/N),” he chuckled. I could see how his eyes were growing darker, the innocent and blissful moment we had just shared turning into a memory.

“You’ll just have to try.” I cocked an eyebrow at him, my bottom lip instinctively caught between my teeth.

We were seeing who would break first. Not once breaking eye contact, our faces started inching closer. So close I could feel his breath on my face and his lips were close enough I could already feel them on mine. His eyes flickered down once, a grin stretching on his face. A simple gust of wind could knock us closer if we let it.

“Derek, we’re here!” A female voice screamed out as the front door clanked loudly. We jumped away from each other, a minuscule air of anger filling the space that had grown between us. Erica and Boyd walked in, playful grins on their faces and questioning hints in their eyes. “What is Argent doing here?”

“None of your business, Erica.” Derek was back to his alpha personality, the emotionless façade that I had been able to break through since the first day I met him. “And she was just leaving.”

“I was?” I questioned until I looked at his face – he was begging me to leave before we started something we would not be able to stop. “I was. I’ll see you all tomorrow night for the rave, I’m assuming.”

“Of course,” Erica smiled deviously. “See you there.”

“Bye, (Y/N),” Boyd mumbled. “Good night.”

“Night, Boyd,” I smiled.

Exiting the building, I felt Derek’s presence behind me. He was careful of his movements, the prominent feeling of Boyd’s and Erica’s lingering eyes enough for him to keep his hands to himself. We walked in silence over to my bike, a giddy feeling revolving around us.

“I guess we’ll never know if we have enough self-resolve,” he teased. “And I won’t test it with those two staring through the windows.”

“If only you didn’t live with teenagers, we could have tested our levels of resistance.”

“We’ll just have to leave it for another day.” He was grinning, an eyebrow cocked and a devilish smile on his face. “Get home safe, (Y/N).”

“Thanks, sour wolf,” I ragged. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you, (Y/N).”

All our cards had been laid out and we had started a domino fall we had no control over. Whatever happened after this point on would be out of our hands. I just hoped that a year from now I felt the way I was feeling at this moment.

Next ->

Tag List: @hellowinterlane​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region @sunshine-flower@lilstanxd @sunsetcurvej @malar-region @heyitsaloy @blackbluerose666 @bellabadacadabra @winter-soldier-101 @zheezs14

[theharrowing]

Boy Blue 💙

While going through a painful but necessary breakup, you meet someone who is patient, kind, and understanding; everything your last ex was not.

Or is he?

💙 Taehyung x Female Reader + Yoongi x Reader, Jungkook x Reader, Original Female Character x Taehyung x Reader, Taehyung x Yoongi, Namjoon x Reader (kind of), Hoseok x Reader, MxM ships

💙 word count: 89k + a lot of images of text conversations

💙 college au, text message au, strangers to lovers, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slow burn, slash, poly, major character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+

💙 warnings: 🕊 dead dove 🕊 angst (hurt/comfort, breaking up and moving on, intent of infidelity) yandere (possessiveness, gaslighting, lying, stalking, physical abuse, major & minor character injury and death, gore, blood, torture, dubcon, consent turned non-consenting with use of date rape drugs, trauma response, PTSD, mc is very young and naïve), explicit sexual content (vanilla to rough, daddy kink, breath play/choking, threesomes, oral sex, sex toy, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, first time with same sex person, sex while drunk, dubious consent, sex with gun to head, degrading language - use of slut), some fluff, unresolved/cliffhanger ending.

💙 part 1 of the Rose-Tinted Obsessions series

💙 note: hello, welcome to my first yandere tale. this story is a lot. heed every warning, read individual chapter warnings, and only interact with this content if you are absolutely certain you feel safe to. obviously, i do not condone the behaviors in this story; it is a work of fiction. this fic is extremely contrived and dramatic. we are not here for award winning story telling; think of it like a trashy daytime soap opera and a gore porn horror film had a baby. 

💙 also note: the hand in the banner is meant to represent Yoongi. i want to stress that the mc in this fic does not have a lot of relationship experience, nor does she have close family or many friends to depend on. she is an easy target. also! although time stamps are part of the story, sometimes there are going to be time discrepancies on the text messages bc this is very tedious and mistakes happen. pretend you do not notice lol. 

💙 all written parts beta read by @neoneunnajimin​

💙 check out the playlist!

💙 character asks - always open!​

💙 take the uquiz: which boy blue character are you?

💙 posted oct. 2021 - dec. 2021 & aug. 2022 | read on ao3

INDEX:

Parts with 📱 have images of text conversations. These conversations do not count toward a word count.

1: So you’re avoiding me now | 0 + 📱 

2: Tending to a wounded heart | 1.3k + 📱

3: Hello there, boy blue | 1.2k + 📱

4: I owe you a new first date | 2k + 📱

5: I’ll keep you from drowning | 400 + 📱

6: You have a type | 830 + 📱

7: Hey, pretty | 1.6k + 📱

8: People change, bestie | 0 + 📱

9: Your place or mine? | 1.4k + 📱

10: You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you | 2.5k 

11: I can see my apartment from here | 580 + 📱

12: To new beginnings | 2.3k + 📱

13: Awe, is TaeTae flustered | 520 + 📱

14: So perfect for me | 2.5k 

15: Change of Plans | 2k + 📱

16: I loved you | 1.8k + 📱

17: Dramatic situations call for dramatic measures | 0 + 📱

18: Under one condition | 1.2k + 📱

19: Come here, you naughty little puppies | 1.9k 

20: Pretty sus |  520 + 📱

21: A lot to unpack | 1.6k + 📱

22: Stuck in a funk | 720 + 📱

23: Almost 200 proof | 2.2k + 📱

24: Loaded and connected | 1.4k 

25: Somewhere I can truly be myself | 950 + 📱

26: Howdy, partner | 1.9k + 📱

27: This is gonna be a long night | 2.3k + 📱

28: See where it goes | 1.1k + 📱

29: The feeling is mutual | 2.4k + 📱

30: Whiplash | 3.2k + 📱

31: Tonight, I'm merely a spectator | 3.6k + 📱

32: It is so nice to meet you again | 3.9k 

33: The path to healing | 3.1k 

34: Stay alert | 3k + 📱

35: I found something | 1.5k + 📱

36: Try to steady your breathing | 2.1k + 📱

37: Going somewhere? | 2.1k + 📱

38: An interesting turn of events | 2.4k 

39: This wasn’t supposed to happen | 3.2k + 📱

40: In the middle of something | 2.3k 

41: Drowning in all the chaos | 2.3k 

42: Moon rocks | 3k 

43: Unwanted but intense feelings | 3.8k + 📱

44: Maybe | 3k 

45: Did you miss me? | 3.5k +  📱

Epilogue: I’m going to need you to see this |  3.1k + 📱

and this fic will end not with a bang but with a sharp, sudden intake of oxygen.

see you in the sequel.

retired banner by @eerieedits​! 💙

Boy Blue is copyright 2021-2022 theharrowing, all rights reserved. no translations are allowed!

[floral-force]

Code of Honor - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Gamble

Din Djarin x Fem Reader

summary: The Mandalorian's hunt becomes disrupted due to an unwanted (and seductive) visitor.

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), canon-typical violence, sexual innuendo/touching

words: 3.9k+

read on ao3 | series masterlist | next

PART 1: DIN

Din stood in a back alley, his eyes focused on the bustling cantina that was about 15 meters to his right. He was a long way from the casino in the heart of Canto Bight, resting in one of the city’s distant veins. The cantina ahead of him was a revolving door of all different types of nonhumans, but he was on the lookout for one in particular—a wanted Falleen war lord named Tror Detam. Karga had given Din the puck with the promise of a reward large enough to cover refueling the Crest II two times over, and without another word, Din left Nevarro to hunt for his quarry.

Things had changed since he handed Grogu to the Jedi. Aside from the silence that constantly enveloped him, he felt a strange stiffness settle on his shoulders. At first, he’d chalked it up to finally feeling the effects of years of bounty hunting. He threw that theory away when he felt it spread from his shoulders to his chest every time he thought about the kid, or when he checked the jump seat out of habit. When he finally made his way back to Tatooine after losing the kid, Peli seemed to pick up on his different demeanor.

“What’s with the long face?” she’d joked. “I haven’t seen you this quiet since I met you!”

Din had shrugged. “There’s not much to say.”

And it was the truth; Din didn’t have a need to speak as much, especially if there was no one to listen. In his line of work, silence is viewed as a necessary skill, and Din intended to hone that skill now that he was alone again and free of any possible hindrances or distractions.

Patience was also a virtue in bounty hunting, and Din’s belief in this was affirmed when he saw Tror Detam exit the grimy cantina surrounded by other nonhumans. Din watched his bounty climb into a taxi speeder that was almost certainly heading for the heart of the city, and he quickly turned to the left and down the alley, taking the route he’d mapped out only a day before. Based on his admittedly rough calculations, Din should either arrive at the casino before or just as the bounty pulled up in his speeder. Then, the fun could really begin.

He used the jog to the casino to clear his head and focus. The fog in his head was persistent, but hunting was one of the few times that it cleared and allowed him the full usage of his brain. Din’s goal was to hunt the bounty in the casino, corner him, and either walk or drag him to the Crest to be frozen in carbonite. Then, he’d be on his way back to Nevarro to collect his pay without Imps tracking him or Grogu to occupy him. This was going to be an easy hunt with a high reward; although he liked a challenge, he also enjoyed a break once in a while, especially if it meant he’d be paid handsomely for a hunt he could have done when he was an amateur in the guild. 

Hunts had become Din’s medicine, and he kept taking jobs to clear his mind and fill the tiny hole in his beskar heart. Whenever he considered taking a short break, his body became tense and the fog thickened. In those moments, he focused on the blue and white light of hyperspace and repeated the Creed; sometimes he spoke them out loud, other times he closed his eyes and kept an internal dialogue with himself. Hunting was the only way to remedy the dissonance he felt, and as long as Karga gave him pucks, he would continue to do what he did best.

As he approached the brush surrounding the casino, he saw the Falleen step out of the speeder, his associates behind him. Din smirked under his helmet, pleased that his approximations turned out to be correct. The bounty and his group entered the casino, jovial and care-free. Din crept around the side of the casino, his helmet’s thermal mode alerting him to the presence of any life forms. He managed to make it to a hidden side entrance, and he felt the thrill of the hunt flow through his veins, supplying him with the energy he needed to make quick work of the second part of his hunt: the chase. Although Din enjoyed the challenge of tracking his quarries, he also savored chasing them silently, keeping them unaware of his presence. 

After walking down some stairs and making a right turn, Din was creeping through a narrow hallway with his thermal view still engaged, his hand resting near his blaster. Above him were sounds of laughter and loud conversation, as well as the occasional stomp or jump; he tuned out the distracting noise and instead focused on the casino’s layout. The last time he’d been to Canto Bight was years ago, and he’d only gotten a quick glance inside. Din prepared himself for anything—winding hallways, an open floor, separate rooms—as he finally ascended some marble stairs, relaxing his stance to appear more casual and not alert anyone to his presence.

Din was standing on the outskirts of the casino, far from the entrance. It gave him a better view of the casino, which was an entirely open space. Tables were scattered throughout, and throngs of people clogged the paths around the floor—that could be an issue later, but no matter. Upbeat music and loud conversation filled the air, and Din watched service droids weave through the clots to serve guests more drinks or refill their wallets with credits. After adjusting to the intense sensory experience, he began to move through the crowd, his eyes scanning for the bounty. 

There. Din’s eyes settled on the bounty; he was across the room, playing an intense game of sabacc. He was surrounded by his associates, and they were cheering him on. Two women were hanging on the bounty, one standing by his right and the other bent down on his left. The woman on the right giggled when he wrapped his arm around her legs after he won a hand. The other woman had one of her hands gently resting on his shoulder, the other on his thigh. She was turned from Din, but he inferred from the bounty’s smirks that she was giving him more than encouragement. The bounty was seated facing the wall where Din had snuck into the casino, so he decided to take a route along the open entrance to the balcony, and then behind the bounty. That way, he could go undetected by the bounty and his associates. This tactic had worked plenty of times before—there was little risk of him being bothered to remove his helmet or be incited to act sooner than he wanted. It was comfortable and fit with the environment, which is what Din preferred when he had the option. 

So far, this hunt was going to be one of the easiest ones he’d had in a while.

PART 2: YOU

You needed the credits—bad. Your ship’s repairs had not been cheap, and you were still in debt to the scummy mechanic that made you pay more than your usual one would, simply because he was the only mech around and your ship was damaged to the point where the risk of trying to fly it was much too high for your taste. Usually, you were confident in your skills—and your luck—but for once, logic had outweighed your impulses and forced you to be cautious. Thus, you were now landing your repaired ship to snag a high-paying bounty, cursing under your breath. This bounty alone would cover your debt and a modest ammunition restock, and more to spare and save.

As you changed out of your flight clothes and into something lighter to adjust to the planet’s climate, you focused on what you needed to do in the hours ahead. Walking into town and hailing a speeder to the venue was the first thing on your list, followed by slipping your way past security to stalk the target. After locating him, it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Even though Canto Bight’s famous casino would be crowded, you were confident in your ability to quickly locate your target. Your sharp eye rivaled the experience of some long-time members of the Guild, and it made you swell with pride when they glared at you after Karga praised your speed. Plus, the client wanted the target dead or alive, and the reward was the same regardless—a rarity in your line of work.

The steps to get to the casino were easy enough and flew past you in a blur; you were more focused on deflecting the driver’s advances and making sure your weapons were properly concealed underneath your dress and in your purse. The dress itself was a sultry number that you’d picked up during one of your hunts on Naboo; as soon as you laid eyes on it, you knew that it had to be yours. Though it was black, it sparkled under light, and the deep v-neckline accented your chest and shoulders perfectly. Simple, thin straps rested on your shoulders, allowing your features to shine. The skirt of the dress gently flared out from your waist, skimming over your curves; a slit running up your left leg further added to the sexy intrigue of the garment. Overall, it was the perfect dress—and the perfect weapon for a hunt like this.

Your charm worked on the security guards, which came as no surprise to you. With a coy smile and a few bats of your lashes, you were walking through the casino doors and into a colorful crowd of humans and aliens. The casino itself was lavish and its vaulted ceilings allowed music and laughter to echo and fill the ears of everyone inside. Droids weaved through the crowd, ferrying drinks from the extensive bar to different tables. Despite the incredible amount of sound and visual stimuli, you remained focus on the task at hand and fought your way through the throngs of gamblers and their associates to reach a relatively quiet area near the very back of the expansive casino by the balcony entrance.

You opened your small black clutch to peek at the bounty puck and refresh your memory of his face and identifying features. Tror Detam would not be hard to find despite the vast number of patrons in the casino; Falleens were very hard to miss. The challenge would be getting close to him, as his species weren’t the most trusting. Going after him was a gamble; however, you were confident in your abilities, and you weren’t above going for a low blow if it meant getting the job done quickly and with little mess. You closed your clutch and scanned the room again, visually searching for your target. When you found him, you smiled and took a deep breath, clearing your mind and readying yourself for your favorite part of the hunt.

You strode over to his table, where he was surrounded by laughing associates with drinks in their hands. You weren’t afraid of making your presence known, and you managed to sneak to his left side. You tapped his shoulder and his attention immediately shifted to you, his face morphing from one of annoyance to one of intrigue after slowly looking you up and down. His gaze lingered on your body and he gave you a playful smirk, the corner of his mouth turning upwards. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing at a sabacc table?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

You bent at the waist, and you caught his eyes slip to your cleavage—which was exactly what you wanted. “I wanted to see if I could give you some help.”

He guffawed. “You? I find it hard to believe a girl like you plays a game like this.”

When he reached out and stroked your cheek with one of his scaly fingers, you bit your lip and giggled. “Oh, trust me, I always make great use of my hands.”

“I bet you do,” he growled, smiling at you with hunger in his eyes. 

You got closer to his side and placed one of your hands on his thigh, the other on his shoulder. He was muscular under his clothes, but it wouldn’t be a problem for you; size never hindered your success while bounty hunting. To be a good hunter, you couldn’t make excuses. Nothing was truly an obstacle, and anything could be overcome. In your experience, clients never really asked about how a bounty was obtained, they just wanted the bounty dead or alive. Your methods of hunting and securing bounties were, at times, not adherent to Guild guidelines, but Karga never asked, and any hunters that did knew better than to cross you more than once.

This bounty was no different. You planned to lure him in with seduction and then kill him in the alley as you led him to the inn you claimed to be staying in. This tactic was one of the few that almost always secured a quick and easy hunt for you, and you usually liked to use it in situations where you may be at a disadvantage in terms of size especially. So far, the bounty had fallen right into your trap—stroking the back of your thigh with his free hand, occasionally squeezing the soft flesh of your ass that rested just above and reciprocating your innuendos. 

Finally, he gave up after a second losing game of sabacc, and he waved his associates away, opting to follow you to the balcony. He was no longer sober, and just tipsy enough to be loose and openly flirtatious with you, which was exactly what you wanted as well. He was bold enough to give your ass a firm squeeze and laugh at your tiny squeak of surprise. When you were both outside, you had him turned so his back was to the casino, and you scanned the crowd one last time to make sure his associates were out of sight. Though they were, you saw a flash of silver moving through the crowd, and you clenched your jaw when you saw the Mandalorian heading your way, his hand hovering near his blaster holster. It was time to make an exit and move your plan along sooner than you would have liked.

“Tror,” you said, icing your voice with a sickening sweetness. “Let’s walk this way. My room is close by. Maybe I can help you forget your loss.”

He chuckled, walking to the right with you and moving away from the bright casino crowd. “I definitely think you can be of assistance, little one.”

You kept watching your back, and though you didn’t see the Mandalorian, you knew he had seen you and that he was most likely following you now. If he didn’t want to kill you before, now he most certainly did.

PART 3: DIN

When Din saw her standing on the balcony with his bounty, he felt his entire body tense and his face grow warm. When he saw the bounty stand and walk to the balcony with a woman at his side, he should have known it was her in that simple, tight gown. The way she moved with the bounty radiated confidence and flirtation, and Din chastised himself for not realizing it was her until it was too late, and she was staring right at him, her eyes narrowing when she finally saw him. He gave her credit for going undetected; she was nothing if not cunning. She was one of the most ruthless, devious hunters in the Guild, and Din should have expected her to track him here.

When she and the bounty moved to walk to the left down the balcony, Din made his way to a door on the left side of the casino room. His sensors indicated there were no life forms behind it, and he could handle a few droids if there were any hiding back there. His study of the casino revealed multiple different access points and exits, and he recalled this one leading up to a higher level. Having higher ground would be an advantage, Din thought as he slipped through the door and began ascending the stairs. Normally, Din preferred to bring his bounties in alive, but being able to watch her and the bounty from above meant he could easily kill them both. 

And right now, Din wanted this hunt to be over.

As he climbed the never-ending staircase, his mind kept repeating the moment he saw her by the bounty’s side, when he still hadn’t realized it was her. He thought the dress was simpler than many of the outfits others wore in the casino, but it teased his primal mind more than any other outfit he’d seen. It clung to her body just enough to tease her figure, and the slit running up her thigh added another level of seduction to the gown. Din knew why she was wearing that dress, and as much as he hated her, he couldn’t deny the way she made his cock stiffen slightly in it. He cursed to himself at the thought of having her in that dress in front of him; she was distracting him even when she wasn’t in front of him.

Din finally reached a door, and he shot the control panel beside it and it slid open to reveal a starry sky and a concrete roof speckled with random green shrubs. The building itself was round, and the guardrail to his right curved with the contour of the roof, giving Din a view of the racetrack below and the sprawling city ahead of him. He crept closer to the guard rail and was pleased to see the bounty and the girl still walking on the balcony, obviously in a rush. Din chuckled to himself—she was foolish if she thought she could escape him and his anger. As they moved, Din followed, aiming his blaster and enhancing his vision to focus in on them. 

She was smiling and feigning interest in whatever the bounty had to say, batting her lashes at him and smiling. Din saw her make a startled expression before laughing again, and he realized that the bounty had smacked her ass. The realization made Din feel a different sort of anger—was it envy? No, he shook his head, his boots gently tapping the cement below his feet. He didn’t envy the bounty in any way.

They were getting close to a hidden alleyway when the bounty suddenly stopped and pinned her against the wall. Din lost sight of the girl but say the bounty and enhanced his vision to see him licking his thin lips and smiling. Either the girl was going for the kill, or he was, and Din was not about to let the bounty take care of her before Din could. So, he crept back along the roof and lined up a shot, knowing that the range was pushing the limit of his blaster’s accuracy. However, Din never missed, even in adverse situations, and he wouldn’t start now.

Before he could pull the trigger, he saw the bounty’s mouth turn to a snarl and contort into a grimace. Din heard a strangled yell and growl and realized that she had taken the shot before he could. 

“Dank ferrik!” Din yelled, pushing off the roof and activating his jetpack to fly down to where the bounty lay, dead on the ground.

The girl was wiping off her knife with a black kerchief when Din landed, his feet by the bounty’s head. She looked at him and smirked, and Din felt his blood boil. The way she was leaning against the wall was a trap in and of itself; it was drawing him in and causing his cock to grow hard in his pants. The dress emphasized her curves and her deadliness in the moonlight, gently sparkling and holding Din’s gaze. She was a cunning killer, and seeing her like this—seductive, stealthy, smug—made him angry enough to want to teach her a lesson.

“I should kill you for doing that,” Din said, his fists clenched.

She scoffed. “And yet, you haven’t.” She took a few steps forward and dropped to her knees, looking over the bounty’s corpse. She looked back up at Din and smirked. “For a Mandalorian, you sure are slow.”

“I have honor. I don’t violate the Code.”

She pouted, pressing a button on the side of her knife to extend the blade. “And what makes you think I don’t have honor, Mando?” 

Din watched in silence as she began to behead the bounty, her brow furrowed and jaw clenched. He was honestly a little impressed with her strength; he had taken her for a weak girl that relied on trickery alone. Maybe she did, but she had the muscle to pair with it, and Din knew that that alone was a dangerous combination in a bounty hunter. Finally, she finished the dirty job and began to wipe her knife off again, looking up at Din.

“So? What do you think, bucket boy?” she asked, rising to her feet and taking the bounty’s head up with her, holding it by its thick black ponytail. 

“I think that should be going back to Nevarro with me,” Din growled, taking a step toward her. He watched her struggle with her clutch, shaking it and cursing until it finally expanded into a fuller bag. After she placed the head inside it, he held his left hand out. “Give it to me.”

“Absolutely not,” she laughed. 

“Karga gave me the puck, I have claim to the bounty. Hand it over.” 

He stepped closer to her, and he was able to smell the scent of dark flowers and vanilla rolling off her. It was almost intoxicating enough for Din to forget that she fucked him over—almost, but not enough. If anything, now he wanted to bend her over that balcony and lift the skirt of her dress and remind her of who paved the way in the Guild so she could run around and make a mockery of its code.

She looked up at him sweetly, biting her lip. “Make me, Mando.”

The way she whispered it made Din’s cock twitch, and it distracted him long enough for her to quickly step back and land a kick behind his knee and swing the purse to hit his head. He fell to the ground and watched her kick off her heels and run down the alley and into the dark. Din growled and got back to his feet, readying his blaster, and allowing the adrenaline in his veins to carry him forward on the chase.

The alleyways in the city were winding and dark, and when he thought he heard her footsteps, they were just some alley creature or aimless drunk. When he reached the outskirts of the city, he heard a rumble and looked too the sky, seeing a ship rise and shoot off into the atmosphere. Din clenched his fists and swore and began the trek back to his ship in defeat. She had gotten the best of him this time, but next time, she’d be the one falling into his trap. 

next

taglist: @andiesturgss @theamuz @jellybeanstacey0519 @elinedjarin @maddiedrmr

[wordsafterhours]

Songs About You: Chapter 5

Hello! Hope you all enjoy the update and I apologize for the drama... well not really, lol. I live for the angst both as a writer and reader. This will likely be the last update for a couple of weeks, I haven't started not the next chapter and have some things in my own life coming up.

Possible TW: Arguing, cussing

*I didn't edit this, it's hot off the press...

Word count: 3.9K

Masterlist

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The workweek had passed by in a blur. Chaol had left yesterday for a short trip to the coast because apparently, he was the only one trusted enough to sort out whatever problem had happened at the engineering yard. Aelin knew he was good at his job, but she wished someone else could deal with it, as their weekend plans were forced into a rain check. 

A steady flow of bookgoers had been in and out of the shop, leaving little time for Aelin to mentally prepare for Rowan’s impending afternoon arrival. His books had been neatly wrapped in brown paper since their arrival yesterday and were currently burning a hole on the shelf underneath the register. A constant reminder on the forefront of her mind. 

More and more light filtered through Present Tense’s windows, signaling the time was now sometime after noon. Anxiety began to creep in, making her antsy, and bobbing her knee in anticipation. Should she check the time? Would that make things worse or better? Lyria hadn’t come by yet either so maybe it wasn’t as late as she thought. The woman had said she’d be by on her lunch break to pick up the cookbook. 

Deciding to chance it, her turquoise eyes flicked down, eyeing the corner of the computer. Her initial assessment of the time proved accurate—the clock displaying a bold 2:15 p.m... It was going to be a long afternoon. A few tasks for the week had been put off, due to their tedious nature, but now was as good of time as any to tackle one or two of them. She clicked into her inventory lists on the computer, evaluating what titles needed to be reordered and what genres could possibly be expanded. 

Sometime later, Aelin heard a feminine voice clearing their throat. She looked up and saw Lyria shyly standing at the counter.  “I thought you would have heard me come in, but I see you’re really into whatever you’re doing,” the woman supplied sweetly. 

“Apparently, I’m exceptionally unobservant as of late. Good thing you weren’t an assassin, I would have been toast,” Aelin joked, dragging her hand across her throat to emphasize the dead part. 

“Then who would order books for me?” 

“You’re right. I can’t get taken out; the whole city would suffer from lack of literary works.”

Her theatrics made Lyria chuckle and for that, she was glad. Sometimes she could be a bit much for other people. 

“I got held up at work or I would have been here when I’d originally said. No one seemed to want to handle their own fires today and naturally, they became my problem.”  Now that Lyria disclosed the reason her tardiness, Aelin noted the woman did seem somewhat frazzled, with her long brown hair in a messy bun and a pen tucked in it. 

“That’s exactly why I’m my own boss…,” she snickered pushing away from the counter. “If you’ll wait right here, I’ll grab your stuff from the back.”

Aelin’s office was a complete mess, the floor littered with dog toys and dried water spots.  Fleetfoot was chaos embodied and this room had been the latest casualty. A hefty stack of new books sat on the corner of her wooden desk but as she roamed down the book spines, Lyria’s cookbook was not amongst them. 

Shit, she internally cursed. It had come in yesterday, she recalled flipping through the many glossy pages, appreciating a few dishes that looked worth trying. Rowan’s books had also been in the same shipment and were far more interesting than the recipes—mainly because Aelin couldn’t cook to save her life. She could read though and halfway into the Campfire Tales book; it had been decided that it needed to be carried full time in the store front. 

The telltale bell ring of the door reached her ears, signaling another customer had come in. Hopefully they could manage without her for a few more moments as she continued retracing yesterday’s steps. It wasn’t on the desk, shipping container, or under the register with Rowan’s books. The puppy wasn’t here yesterday, so she couldn’t blame her. Finally, she saw it, haphazardly shoved into her small bookcase by the office door. That was one place to put it she supposed, grabbing it with relief. 

Lyria was still by the counter when she emerged from the back but looking far less relaxed than before. The woman kept throwing glances over her shoulder, a nervous expression in place.  Was the new customer a vagrant? Had something happened while she was gone? Aelin craned her neck trying to see who was in the store. 

Seeing no one, she proceeded with ringing up the book.  “Alright, that’s going to be $32 even.”  

“Can you put that in a bag, please?” Lyria asked swiping her card. 

Aelin was slipping the item into a bag when movement in her peripheral caught her attention. Soon, a familiar figure came into focus, and she couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from pulling up. As quickly as the smile had come, it disappeared. He didn’t deserve smiles and niceties.

Rowan hadn’t approached the counter, seeming as though he was waiting on Lyria to leave or maybe he was quietly praying to Hellas for guidance on how to ruin Aelin’s day—that seemed like the more plausible answer.  

What she did notice though was how tense Lyria was now that he had joined them. 

“Here, all done. You’ll have to let me know how it goes with the cooking,” Aelin requested, handing the packaged book into Lyria’s open hands. 

“What a small world Orynth can be,” Rowan chimed. 

Aelin was undeniably missing something. 

“So it would seem, Rowan,” Lyria replied as she turned to face him. 

Rowan had the biggest smile on his face and offered out a closed fist in Lyria’s direction. The woman bumped her own fist against his and gave a small chuckle. 

It was clear the two knew one another and were likely friends. But if that were the case, why had Lyria been acting so strangely? Aelin continued to glance between the two looking for more answers. 

“Well, I better be going, I still have one thing to finish up at the office before I can celebrate the weekend.” 

“Still on for Saturday?” Rowan asked Lyria as she walked past. 

“Of course,” she answered quickly, almost too quickly, her cheeks pinking up. Aelin’s eyes unconsciously narrowed Lyria gave a small parting wave to Rowan. Either the two were intimate or given the other woman’s reaction, heading in that general direction. 

Aelin felt her stomach drop with that deduction and she tried to shove down the sudden wave of nausea that was creeping up.  She shouldn’t care. She didn’t even know Rowan, much less like him. Yet, a small nagging voice in the back of her head whispered “liar”. 

“Good afternoon, Aelin,” greeted Rowan. 

“I have your stuff right here,” she declared, pulling out the wrapped stack from under the counter and holding it out to him.

“Usually when one person greets another, pleasantries are exchanged, and then the conversation transitions into a more serious note. So, let us try this again,” he chastised trying to sound serious, but Aelin could hear the humor beneath his words. “Good afternoon, Aelin.”

“Good afternoon, Rowan,” she replied with an eye roll. 

“Eye rolls don’t make for polite conversation.”

“Who said this was a polite conversation,” she quipped, trying her best to sound indifferent.

“Gods, are you always this so damn difficult?” he implored, leaning against the desk and staring her down with pine green eyes.

Aelin gave a noncommittal shrug and waved the wrapped books in his direction, silently pleading him to take them. Polite Rowan was the last thing she had been expecting and he’d further caught her off guard with his teasing. She did not like it one bit.  

“I’m not taking the books until you have a conversation with me. I know you can because you were talking to Lyria just fine.” 

She sighed, loudly, and sat down on her stool, contemplating whether to be nice or a pain in the ass. The latter won out. “How do you know, Lyria?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re the one who wanted to have a conversation.  This is me using my words, Rowan.” 

Rowan was visibly frustrated. He took a few deep breaths and pinched the bridge of his nose.  Aelin surmised he was choosing his next set of words carefully. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Lyria and I met when she attended one of my hiking get togethers last year. She attends them still if she’s not busy with work.” 

She wasn’t sure what she had expected his explanation to be, but it wasn’t that. Lyria didn’t strike her as the outdoorsy type… and Rowan didn’t strike her as a people person. But you know what they said about assuming. 

Aelin again pulled the wrapped books from beneath the counter, holding them out to him with smile, trying to appear apologetic—which she was, but she’d be damned if she actually said sorry for being nosy. Or for being rude. His green eyes flitted between the books and her face a few times before he finally grabbed them from her, his finger accidentally brushing against her own. 

An electric current zinged up her arm and she jerked it back in surprise. Had he felt that, too? The look on his face was unchanged but his eyes seemed a little darker, emerald instead of pine. Neither commented on what had just happened and an awkward silence ensued. 

She was about to ask if he was ready to pay for the books, when the bell of the front door chimed, and a middle-aged couple walked in. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said quietly as she went to meet the customers.

“Hi, my name is Aelin. Did you need any help or are you just browsing?” Her tone was very polite; she hoped Rowan was taking note of it. 

“So nice to meet you. My wife and I are visiting from Eyllwe. When we looked up things to see in the city, visit downtown was number one on the list. We were walking by just now when we saw your shop and thought we’d pick up a good book or two.”  

“That’s wonderful. I hope you’ve enjoyed it thus far.  Downtown still has many of the old buildings from before the great war, which I’m sure you’ve noticed. The opalescent shine gives them away.” Aelin smiled fondly, recalling history lessons with her dad freely given every time he brought her downtown. Both Evalin and Rhoe had had such pride for the city and Terrasen—a pride they’d passed to their daughter.

“Oh yes dear, it’s been such a treat,” agreed the woman. 

“If you are interested, I’d love to show you the section especially catered to showcasing Terrasen, and if not, I can direct you in whatever area you’re interested in.” Books had been her life for as long as she remembered, and it was a gift to share that unbridled passion with others. 

“Oh, we’d love to see your specialty section,” both exclaimed excitedly. Aelin didn’t worry about Rowan, he could wait, or come back later. These people were actually excited to hear what she wanted to share and say. She eagerly ushered them to the back of store and into a small room dedicated to her homeland. 

Roughly an hour, six books and exchanging of numbers later, they were done and heading back towards the register. Aelin’s steps slightly faltered, surprise consuming her at the sight of Rowan’s hulking frame occupying her stool behind the counter. His attention solely focused on the leatherbound book laying atop the counter, giving no indication he was the slightest aware of their approach. 

Aelin couldn’t stand it, elbowing him in passing and he jerked, almost falling off the stool. Much like a fox in the chicken coop, she couldn’t resist this moment of gloating. “Look whose unaware now.” 

Rowan narrowed his eyes, and she could see him gearing up for a smart remark until he realized they weren’t alone. The look in his eyes was clear enough. 

Brat. 

Aelin could tell he found humor in the situation which filled her with a feeling she couldn’t place at the moment—there was always later. 

“Is this your boyfriend, deary?” the wife asked. 

Her heart felt like it was going to race out of her chest, a wave of heat creeped down her neck. She knew her face was beet red. Rowan merely snorted at the comment but otherwise remained his same confident self. It would appear the ball was solely in her court. 

“He’s uh- “she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, trying to come up with a label for what Rowan was. Were they friends?  Acquaintances? She wanted to say bothersome asshole but that wouldn’t make for palatable conversation, and he had been rather nice today. “- my friend.  I just special ordered some books for him.” 

Aelin subtly glanced sideways, trying to see what Rowan thought of them being “friends”. His eyebrows were drawn together, creating a small crease in his tan skin, and his mouth a thin line, but it wasn’t a hard expression… she’d mark it down as thoughtful. 

“Oh, how exciting! I’d be poor if I had access to a bookstore owner at any given time.” The woman unaware of the tension she’d created with her intrusive question, kept rattling on to her husband about their books Aelin rang up their purchases. After they paid, they promised to keep in touch and let her know how they liked the books, before wandering out of the shop. 

Aelin waited, expecting Rowan to move from behind the counter now they were alone. Again. Instead, he continued to sit there, unbothered, reading the page he’d been on earlier. She loudly cleared her throat, pointedly staring at the side of his face. His face stayed a mask of indifference, giving no indication he’d heard her at all. 

She cleared her throat, louder.

Still nothing—he flipped the page. 

And we are back to being worse than Hellas, himself. Mala grant me the patience to not commit murder, Aelin internally pleaded to herself while continuing to stare at him occupy her space. There was no way he couldn’t have heard her clearing her throat, meaning he was purposefully trying to get a rise out of her.

It was both infuriating and lovely that he wanted to rile her up. Perhaps they had found their way into a tentative friendship. It didn’t negative the fact she wanted to push his 6’ 4” frame onto the floor, though. Violence brought joy from time to time. 

Her eyes traced down along his jaw, noting the light stubble gracing it, down his neck decorated with words in language foreign to her, and along his muscle arm, appreciating the way his long sleeve outlined it.  He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen and that was saying something considering all her friends were especially attractive. Chaol was handsome but it was different—he didn’t command the room or draw attention wherever they went. 

Rowan deftly flipped another page, drawing her attention. He was now past the point of where she had stopped yesterday. Curiosity driving her forward, she moved behind him, peering over his left shoulder so she could read, too. She read along as he finished a story about some giant worm who ate people and was glad that these were just “stories” and not true encounters. 

Since he didn’t seem to mind her presence, Aelin stayed reading over his shoulder as started a new tale about a witch who was said to live in the Middle, a neutral part of the Prythian forest. Aelin was only vaguely aware of “the Weaver” as it had been a scary story her parents had used to keep her and Aedion from venturing unaccompanied into the forest at night.   

“It is said the Weaver is not of our world, but a death-god fallen from another dimension. A being of immense power, she reveled in the worship she received and reigned terror upon Prythian’s citizens, using live sacrifices’ life forces to keep her young and beautiful. However, she was bested by a young warrior, her power diminished, and subsequently doomed to occupy only a small parcel of land in Pyrthian forest.

Here, she crafted a cottage from bones, fat, and hair of those who crossed her path. The home filled with a collection of treasures, tanned skins, and yarn woven from hair. Untouchable by any of the neighboring lands, the Weaver did as she pleased within her boundary, lying in wait like a spider with a web. No one had successfully stolen a trinket and lived to talk about it, until—” 

Rowan closed the book, effectively ending Aelin’s reading. She made a small noise of discontent and felt his body shaking. Suddenly, she noted her chest was pressed against the warm, firm planes of his shoulder and back. She’d been using him as a rest spot, he hadn’t corrected her—and now, now she was feeling his quiet laughter, not hearing it. 

As though he could hear her racing thoughts or detect her panic, he whispered lowly, his accent thick, “I didn’t mind.” A warm heat bloomed in her chest at his words, her panic dissipating into calm feelings. Neither moved, maintaining the intimacy of the moment. Her mind wandered, wondering what it would feel like run her hand down his arm or to rest her head in the crook beneath his jaw. 

Guilt took over before she could try to rationalize it away. Somewhere in her mind, she knew this was wrong and the thoughts she was starting to have, were wrong. Chaol deserved better than her and he should be the star of the things she was thinking. Yet, he wasn’t. 

Aelin pushed away from Rowan, trying to end whatever was happening. Standing, Rowan stayed silent as his pine green eyes looked her up and down, seemingly searching for something. Aelin felt naked under his gaze, hating how he already had the power to make her vulnerable. The tension was palpable in the air, weighing on her. He took a step towards her, almost erasing the distance she’d put between them only moments ago.

“Aelin”

The rest of his words went unheard as the shop’s front door swung open, clacking against an entrance table. She stepped back and turned, zooming in on the person who’d rudely come in. She paled as turquoise met bronze. Chaol’s body was tense, face pinched in anger as he approached desk. Aelin would be the first to admit the situation probably looked bad to an outside party. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Chaol barked, crossing his arms and glaring daggers at the both of them.

Rowan scooped his ghost leopard book off the counter and held it up alongside the campfire book, showing Chaol why he was here. “Buying books.”

“Is that code for ‘about to kiss someone else’s girlfriend?’” Aelin could see the vein in Chaol temporal throbbing.

“I don’t know what you think you saw, man, but we were just talking.”

“And you needed to be behind the desk to talk? Sounds like a load of shit to me.”

“Aelin was reading some of the book and I wanted to sit down.” Rowan’s answer sounded convincing despite it partly being a lie. 

“Like she couldn’t read the book on her own time? She doesn’t need your help,” her boyfriend spat defensively, stepping closer in Rowan’s direction.

Aelin would never speak to either of them if they fought in her store. 

“Can you both stop talking about me like I’m not standing here?” she exclaimed in frustration, throwing her hands up. Neither acknowledged her, too busy staring one another down. She would get nowhere as long as both stayed in Present Tense.

“Chaol, Rowan was just leaving. He was literally saying goodbye when you came in throwing a fit.” Aelin turned, eyes pleading with Rowan to go. He gave her a rueful smile, leaving her alone with her boyfriend. When the door shut, she focused all her attention on Chaol, who remained standing, arms crossed, glaring at the floor.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Wrong with me?  What the fuck, Aelin?  I come here to surprise you and you’re basically nose to nose with some guy you swore you didn’t know. That’s the guy from the bar.” 

“I don’t really know him. Yeah, I know his name and I know what books he likes read, but I don’t know him,” she admitted defensively. 

“You’re bending the truth to fit your narrative, Aelin.” 

“No, you’re just mad and hearing what you want to hear.  I don’t know Rowan. Before last week, I’d never even seen the guy. In case you haven’t noticed, Orynth can be a really small place.” Aelin was trying with everything in her to maintain a level-headed conversation with Chaol but she could feel herself losing control.

“I just find that hard to believe. He was behind your desk. I’ve been dating you for six years and can count on one hand the times I’ve been in your office or behind the desk. Is he why you don’t want to move in together?” he questioned angrily, slapping his hand against the top of the desk.

Aelin startled, his gesture unexpected. This was the most upset she’d seen him in years and part of her was remorseful, but the other half, mad. He had no right to be slinging accusations at her and bringing their personal issues into a discussion that they had no bearing on.

“Stop using this conversation as a way to bring up other issues. Moving in together has nothing to do with that guy and quite frankly, it’s both hurtful and infuriating that you’d accuse me of cheating or whatever it is you’re doing,” she yelled back, her semblance of composure fracturing as her voice cracked. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“So, it’s okay for you to come into my business, yell at a customer, insinuate using that customer as a reason for not moving in together… but when I question and correct you, I’m suddenly putting words in your mouth?” The palms of her hands were screaming in pain, her tightened fists digging her nails into the flesh. She would not break down in front of him. He deserved her anger, not her tears. If digging into her palms kept her from breaking, she’d do it until they bled.

“Fuck this,” he hissed roughly rushing backwards towards the door.  

Aelin wanted to stop him, to not end this converstion on a bad note, but she stayed glued to where she was. Chaol glanced over his shoulder as he opened the door, “I’ll see you when I get back.” He left just as loud as he’d come in, the slamming door deafening throughout the empty store.  

Aelin stood and stood and stood, staring at the door like he’d come back any moment and apologize for it all. But he didn’t. And it wasn’t until the sun began to disappear behind the tall buildings of the city, that she released her tights fists. The pale skin of her palms an angry red with crescent moon shapes imprinted in them, some bloodied.

As the pain receded, so did her resolve. Her eyes prickled, tears welling in them. She sunk down, crumpling on the wood floor, exhausted. Silently, tears rolled down her cheeks, shoulders shaking as she cried. Earlier she had been perfectly content, passionately discussing books and leisurely reading. And now, she could feel the crack in her soul growing a little larger, her light dimming a little more. 

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Tag list:

@rowanaelinn @theresyourfireandblood @backtobl4ck @leiawritesstories @morganofthewildfire @rowaelinismyotp  @jorjy-jo @theresyourfireandblood @numbers-colors-fashion @swankii-art-teacher @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Supernova (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: None! Lmao finally

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: As the daughter of Wonder Woman, you always knew you were destined for something more than the life of a mortal. It seemed like your wish for a life of adventure came true but whether in the form of a blessing or curse, you didn’t know. All you know is that you were the sole witness for a chain of murders that would begin. It’s up to you to find out who was the murderer before it’s too late……

A/N: It's a sweet chapter ya'll. I promise.

Supernova Masterlist

“You’re sweaty.” Robin murmured when you rested your forehead against the nape of his neck. You both were exhausted after training and you were a shower away from passing out in your bed but you both still needed a few minutes to catch your breath, leaning on each other for support. Even though he was complaining about you sweating, he didn’t seem to do anything to get away from you, even going so far as to wrap an arm around your shoulder.

You felt him swallowing the gulps of water against your skin before scoffing and wiping your skin with a towel, “As if you’re any better, my eyes are stinging from your sweat.”

Then you both dissolved back to silence, quietly enjoying each other’s company as the night slowly bled into day.

“Do you ever wonder what smoking feels like?” You asked and Robin laughed, making you whine when he began shaking, moving your body in tandem with his because of it. Even though you pinched his side to get him to stop laughing, it was useless since it made him laugh even harder, slugging you off his shoulder as your back hit the training mat.

“It wasn’t even that funny.”

“It was random."

“I was just thinking about it. I can hardly breathe when someone else is smoking beside me. I wonder how it feels actually inhaling the stuff.” You wondered, now getting comfortable on your back and he lay down beside you, “I guess some people enjoy it.”

It was silent again and you yawned, waiting for your body to cool off. The unfortunate thing about living at Happy Harbor was that the weather was unusually hot during the summer, so hot that even the water ended up getting to a scorching temperature. If you went for a shower straight after training, you’d be slowly boiled to perfection.

But the more you waited, the sleepier you got.

Robin spared you a glance as you yawned once again, stifling his own. The training had been taking a toll on him, since he would come to the cave right after patrol instead of sleep at the Manor. Partly because he liked seeing you improve in combat and get better each day and partly because he just liked seeing you.

If he caught you on a good day, you were fun to be around, cheerful and funny. Your energies mixed together well, fitting together like two puzzle pieces but he never lingered on that thought for long. For now, Robin just wanted to be supportive and a good friend. He’d seen firsthand how much you could change when things hurt you and he never wanted to push you towards that again.

His mind drifted back to the day in the interrogation room, the way you didn’t have any remorse for Thelma when she cried and screamed in front of you. It was so unlike you and for a few brief moments he wondered if he ever knew you at all.

He looked at you again, noticing the way you were smiling at nothing, the sheen of sweat on your face and neck before rethinking. He knew you; he was sure of that. And he liked you for it too.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just that prom is next week at school. Before Valerie I would’ve pleaded to go but I don’t think I’d want to return to school after this.” You said thoughtfully, suddenly thinking about what you would do if you made out of all this alive.

“Maybe you should transfer to my school.” He said absentmindedly. It wasn’t really a suggestion that he thought you’d accept but he actually liked the thought of you going to his school.

You sent him a teasing smile, “Oh? Boy Wonder actually goes to school? Not some advanced intelligence nerd program?”

He laughed at this, “You’re one to talk.”

It was silent for the next couple moments once again while you both rested comfortably. This was the thing he appreciated the most about your relationship; when it was silent, he wasn’t scrambling to find some conversation piece to fill the silence. He wasn’t unaccustomed to awkward silence but it never felt awkward when he was with you. It was just silence.

He could stay beside you and just stay silent and that was enough. He liked that.

“What color are your eyes?” You asked again, curious.

“Like I’d tell you.” He sighed, sounding way too comfortable for his own good. You kicked him lighter than you were intending to.

“They’re brown, aren’t they?”

“Why brown?”

“Because I feel like any other color would give you an unfair advantage.”

He settled in further, wanting the training mats to suddenly feel like his mattress back home, “Well I’m no swim team captain but.”

“Jealous?”

“Sure.”

The sweat was making the mats stick to your skin and you felt it aggressively peel from your skin when you turned on your side to face him. Now you were made painfully aware about the cold sweat pooling below you and realized you were in desperate need for a shower.

You rubbed his arm gently, wishing him a good night even though you knew that the sun was up. Robin returned the gesture with a smile, telling you to get a good night’s sleep. As he watched your receding back, a thought came to his mind and he stopped you in your tracks.

“Here’s a thought, why don’t we do something on prom night? Have our own little thing right here? We could watch a movie or something.” He proposed and your brows furrowed, “Don’t you have prom too?”

He did. Which was planned and decorated with the money his father had generously donated. But Dick didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for missing it. He also knew it was the only night that the others wouldn’t be home, all at their own prom. As long as he would get to have a fun night with you.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on going anyway.” Alfred had already pressed his suit and had a special corsage ordered. He was going with Barbara, as friends, but cancelling on her seemed like a small feat in the moment.

“Are you sure?” “Definitely.”

You smiled slightly, nodding before waving goodbye and continuing on your way to the showers. When he heard the door shut, Dick realized just what he had gotten himself to and flopped back onto the mats, ‘What did I just do?’

He’d have to cancel the limo without his dad or Alfred finding out. He’d have to cancel the reservations at the restaurant. For goodness’ sake, he’d have to take a rain check on Barbara. Still, Dick wasn’t able to wipe the smile off his face.

***

You were oddly looking forward to hanging out with Robin tonight. Everyone had already left for their own proms, Zatanna was in a dress that she had borrowed from you. Even though you knew that the prom dress you had been planning to wear would’ve been the best for her school theme, you had a weirdly hard time parting from it, considering it was just a piece of clothing.

All three girls spent a couple hours primping with you, trying their best to include you in some of the fun. You even managed to rope Artemis into getting glammed up. She protested a lot at first but once she got in the chair it was like you had tamed a jungle cat. They had time to style your hair as well and you barely had any idea what was happening while Doja Cat played and you had a sheet mask on. After getting that off, you felt like a new born baby.

You sent all three of them off after taking a ton of pictures and they told you to have a great night too, smiling like they knew something you didn’t.

Now that the cave was completely empty, even Aqualad had left that morning to pay a visit to Atlantis, you were left alone with Robin and were excited about it. You weren’t going to do anything special anyway, other than watching a movie and stuffing your face with food but you were still happy to spend some time with him when you both weren’t sweating like pigs.

Even the thought of sitting beside him on the couch while a movie played had a skip in your step.

Just as you saw the doors to the main hall and a familiar head of hair, you picked up the pace until you stopped walking all together, shocked.

Because there stood Robin waiting by the door with a shy smile on his face. Dressed in a suit and tie.

You chocked out a laugh, not quite sure why it felt like the wind was knocked out of you before walking up to him, gently pulling his fingers away from the tie he was fidgeting with and straightening it out, “A little over-dressed for a movie, don’t you think?”

“Change of plans, we’re going to have our own prom night, right here.”

You giggled, reclipping the tie clip before straightening out the corsage in his breast pocket. You spared a glance up, meeting his eyes and you realized just how close the both of you had gotten. If he didn’t have the sunglasses on, you would’ve been able to see your reflection in his—probably— brown eyes.

You cleared your throat, stepping away from him not before smoothing your hands down the lapels, smiling at just how handsome he looked.

“Wish you would’ve told me. I would’ve matched what I’m wearing to your tie.” You teased.

“Actually, you can.” You raised a brow at this and the red began crawling up his neck, “I asked your mom to drop your dress off. It’s in your room.”

The uncomfortable conversation with Wonder Woman about why he wanted the particular dress that her daughter of the same age was planning to wear to prom was completely worth it when he watched your eyes light up like the sun before throwing your arms around his neck, “Oh my god! I love you!”

The dress fit you like a glove, even though the last time you wore tried it on it had been a teeny bit snug. All those hours training with Robin probably made it fit a little better even though you didn’t look any different. You stood in front of the mirror and couldn’t stop twirling; the dress was just so beautiful and you were over the moon that you got to wear it.

When you met Robin by the door, it felt a little too good to be true, the way he smiled at you just as your eyes met and then held out his arm for you to take. Your heart was sure to stop beating tonight at the rate it was thumping in your chest. You could barely hear him over the sound of it, filled with too much adrenaline and excitement. You could’ve gone for a 100-mile run with the amount of energy you suddenly had.

“You look pretty.”

You grinned and curtsied in an old-fashioned way, tipping an imaginary hat, “Why, thank you. You look pretty dapper yourself.”

He laughed, “Dapper?”

“It’s a word, look it up, tweetie bird.”

“And now all the magic’s dead.”

“Oh? Because I was expecting you to pull out a bouquet from your sleeve there.”

“Actually—” He smiled, pulling out a matching corsage from his suit pocket and holding it out to you, “I went all out.”

He helped you fasten it around your wrist when you struggled to do it with one hand and your breath got caught in your throat. It was awkward, to say the least, the energy between the both of you. In fact, there was so much tension that you felt like you could choke on it. Even though your first response to any kind of distress was to hide underneath the blankets in your bedroom, you still stayed by his side.

“So, what are we waiting for? What movie are we watching?”

It seemed like he finally remembered why he was standing outside the hall in the first place and smiled shyly, a blush faintly painting his cheeks. It felt like he was stalling the more you thought about it, lingering at the door for way too long as if something would explode or jump at you if he put his hand on the handle.

“Actually—”

He opened the door and you gasped, “You need to stop saying ‘Actually’ because every time you do, I get a heart attack.”

How he managed to get all this done in a day was beyond you. The table was filled with snacks and drinks that you knew was meant to be left over for Wally to finish. The TV had a blanket fort in front of it, looking so cozy that you suddenly wanted to take a nap. The holo-computer was projecting something similar to a carnival game, with a couple targets levitating mid-air, labelled with different points.

Your heart fluttered when you realized that Robin had gone through all this just to make sure you’d have a fun night and suddenly your eyes felt alarmingly wet.

“You’re not gonna cry, are you?” Came his incredulous response and you gave him the weakest punch you could possibly muster because you knew any harder could give your date a hairline fracture, “Excuse me. It’s a perfectly healthy emotional response.”

“Yeah, but you cry a lot, have you realized?” He teased, pulling you toward the holo-computer, giving you a simulator stun gun and then picking one up for himself.

“You don’t cry at all, Mr. Roboto,” You cocked the gun and pointed at him playfully, “But no matter, you’ll be crying once I beat you to dust.”

His signature laugh was the next thing you heard and you blushed, embarrassed that you liked it more than you cared to admit, “Let’s just see about that.”

***

“And then she goes—Word for word, I’m not even kidding—” You told, picking up a tennis ball and using it to imitate an apple before pretending to take a bite out of it, “Young lady, eating is simply not allowed on school premises. *crunch* These rules obviously apply to everyone. *crunch* No one is above the rules. *crunch*”

Robin was laughing at your horrible British accent and the way you tried so hard to sound all hoity-toity, had Alfred been here he would’ve been appalled. To be quite honest, you weren’t even sure if the lady was British or not, but it seemed fitting and the way Robin was laughing made you embarrassing yourself a teensy bit worth it.

“Not to mention she’s spewing apple chunks all over me. I can never unsee that image.” You shuddered, shaking your head and his laughs dulled down to chuckles.

“That’s not that bad. Once, our health class teacher was covering contraceptives and such. And he stands in front of the entire class and, with absolutely no hesitation, asks ‘So boys and girls, what are your favorite condom brands?’” You burst into laughter at that hiding your face in your hands as tears began blurring your vision.

“Oh, my goodness, I can’t breathe, stop talking!” You interrupted his story, clutching your stomach and flopping on your back from laughing so hard. He laughed, watching you writhe on the floor, unable to stop the choked chortles that were leaving your lips. Your stomach felt like you had just done an ab workout.

The movie that was playing had long gotten over, the credits frozen on the screen as you both continued to talk, recounting all the hilarious stories you could remember as music played in the background, “Alright, so it’s an all-girls program and all of the girls are chattering about and have their own little groups in the auditorium. And my principal goes, ‘Why are you all standing so close? You all are straight girls, are you not?’”

“Not as bad as a girl volunteering to sing during a school assembly before serenading me in front of the entire school. Even though we’ve never actually talked.” He blushed, remembering just how embarrassing the situation was. You threw your head back, missing the moment Robin took to admire you.

“You little Casanova. Are you really complaining about being a heartthrob?” You teased, nudging him playfully and he rolled his eyes though it was hidden by his glasses.

Eventually the stories and laughter begin to die down as your ears tune into the music playing in the background. Just as a fun, rap song that you weren’t paying attention to but were sure had something to do with sex ended, you heard the familiar tune flow through the speakers and smiled as the singers’ voices filled your ears.

“Ahh, I love this song.” You smiled, listening to the first verse. It was a pretty love song that always got you singing when you heard it playing in the car. It was the song you listened to on repeat when you read a romance book to give you the right feels. Closing your eyes, you recalled the last book you read to the music, smiling as the feeling of giddiness began to flow through you.

“Care to join me for a dance?”

When you opened your eyes, Robin was holding a hand out for you, a gentle and reassuring smile on his face and you didn’t hesitate before taking his hand. If he had asked at the start of the night, you probably would’ve blushed and felt nervous just by holding his hand but after spending a couple hours together, you were finally in tune with each other.

You didn’t mind resting your hands on his shoulders as his floated around your waist before you began swaying to the rhythm. You had spent the whole day together, more or less in the same way; resting against each other while watching the movie, holding his hand when he attempted to throw a ball with your lacrosse stick and failing before you stepped behind him to show him how it was done and finally feeding each other food as you attempted to play the guess different foods while blindfolded.

You giggled at the way Robin squirmed when the petals of your corsage tickled his neck, still swaying out of beat to the song but it didn’t really matter, you were just trying hard not to trip over the slight train of the dress or on his feet.

“It’s occurring to me that I haven’t actually thanked you for all of this.” You began, eyes darting around the place as you took in just how much he had done for you today and your heart swelled in your chest, smiling softly without even realizing it. His fingers tightened their grip on your waist slightly and the light blush crawling on his cheeks was the only indication that he was feeling slightly embarrassed.

You looked him back in the eye, well at your reflection in his sunglasses, “I’m really touched, Rob. No one’s ever done anything like this for me and I really don’t know what to say to make you understand just how much this means to me. Thank you.”

Thank you didn’t even begin to express how much you felt for him at this point, dancing with you in bare feet across the hall. A night you had been dreading for a while, a night you thought would be spent all alone was made one of the best ones since you opened your eyes on the planet just because of him. You couldn’t tell him how grateful you were for that.

He felt embarrassed that you were putting him on the spot this way. You had said so much and a simple ‘You’re welcome’ didn’t seem right to say. It felt awkward and distant and off-putting, how would you continue the conversation after he so rudely shut you down without any other way to continue?

His hands were slightly sweating against your dress and if you noticed the increase of warmth from his palms, you didn’t say anything. So, he said the only thing he could to sort of fill the silence, “It was nothing, really. You really don’t have to thank me; I didn’t do much. Besides, I hardly think any of this could compare to your real pro—”

He was cut of by your hands slowly sliding to delicately cup his cheeks before slanting your lips over his in your first kiss. He inhaled sharply against your lips, fingertips digging into your waist. The kiss itself wasn’t much, just a silky brush of your lips against his without any pressure before you pulled back and gave him an endearing smile, “Thank you.”

He returned it, pulling you a teensy bit closer so he could hold you against him but still far enough so you couldn’t feel his heartbeat thrumming against his ribcage.

***

Not even twenty minutes after the two of you had parted with whispered goodnights, you climbed up the stairs to Robin’s nest, with your makeup freshly washed off and dressed in comfy pajamas. You saw the tip of Robin’s head peek out from the beanbag and smiled. Your heart was slowly sinking to your stomach with the thought of talking to him.

“Hey.”

He turned around, seemingly surprised to see you which he never seemed before. Usually, he could hear you from a mile away. The tie around his neck was loosened, the top button undone and his suit jacket lay wrinkled beside him, though he was still wearing his glasses.

Nonetheless, he gave you a gentle smile, scooting over a little so you could plop beside him on the beanbag, “Missed me already?”

“Yeah.” The honesty in your voice caught him off-guard and he found himself blushing and avoiding your eyes as he waited for you to speak again and tell him why you came up here. Of course, his heart leaped at the thought that you were up here just to see him, even though you spent the whole night together.

“Listen about earlier,” He turned his head to you but this time it was you who wouldn’t look at him, playing with your fingers in your lap, “About the kiss; I’m sorry.”

He could hardly hear anything other than his heartbeat when he heard the tone in your voice and he knew that something bad was going to come. Were you going to tell him that it was a mistake and that you regret it? He wouldn’t hold it against you but his heart tore at even the thought.

“I shouldn’t have done it without asking for permission first, I’m sorry. I was just reliving it and I realized that I never actually asked if I could, you know? It’s just I really like you and got caught up in nerves and emotions and all—” Somehow you managed to catch yourself rambling and stopped, taking a deep breath, “Anyway, if it made you uncomfortable, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

You glanced back up at him with a shy smile, “Are you gonna say something or, do you want me to leave….”

If it was possible, you looked even more beautiful barefaced and hair pulled back from your face than you did in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen you in before.

“Could I kiss you? Please?”

Your breath got caught in your throat and you found yourself leaning in before you could even think of saying anything.

Who were you to say no?

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