#this was not meant to be 4.8K i got carried away

[alisonsfics]

back in chicago - part 4

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: after years in germany, you return to chicago and immediately run into your ex-boyfriend. if you thought it’d be easy jumping back into your old life, you were wrong. new people had entered carmy’s life, including a new woman, but you were still everything to him.

word count: 4.8k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

A/N: welcome to the FINALE babbyyyy…also i may have gotten carried away and the finale is a little on the long side

warnings: unprotected sex, smut, car sex, jealous carmy which deserves its own warning, minors DNI (18+ only)

After Richie’s birthday party, you avoided Carmy for a few weeks. It was too messy. He had basically told you he loved both you and Claire and didn’t know what to do about it. You didn’t want to get on Claire’s bad side more than you already had.

It was easier to just ignore the problem.

During those weeks, you started to hang out with Sydney more and more. You both had hit it off upon meeting each other. She felt like one of your best friends, despite having only having known each other for a month.

Being friends with Sydney meant sometimes accidentally running into Carmy.

The first time was when you and Sydney decided to try a new lunch spot, which happened to be close to the Bear, so she could walk there after her shift. You accidentally got seated at one of the tables in front of the restaurant on that patio.

Carmy had walked by on his way to work, and of course, had to stop and say hi.

Then, you and Sydney made plans to go to a farmers market. You planned to meet her at the Bear, but didn’t want to run into Carmy.

You hung out in the alleyway beside the restaurant. You looked down at your phone and realized Sydney had texted that she was running a few minutes late.

You waited, mindlessly scrolling through social media. Finally, the back door swung open. You looked up expecting Sydney, but instead saw Carmy with a box of cigarettes in hand.

“Oh…uh, hey,” he said, shocked to see you. You gave him a polite smile, not exactly knowing what to say. What do you say to your ex-boyfriend who knows you’ve been avoiding him. “I’m just waiting for Sydney. We’re going to a market.” You quickly explained.

He nodded, slowly. He was slightly disappointed you weren’t there to see him. He knew he’d screwed things up, but he missed you.

“You know, you can wait inside if you want? You don’t have to wait out in the cold and pretend like we don’t know each other.” He offered. Before you could say anything, Sydney rushed out the door and saved you.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” she said, trying to break up the awkward tension between the two of you.

A few days after that, Carmy had texted you asking if you wanted to get lunch. You couldn’t say yes, but you also couldn’t say no without sounding like an asshole. So, you ignored the message.

One night at your apartment, you FaceTimed Sydney after ruining the dinner you were making. “Syd, this tastes like shit. I don’t know how to fix it.” You complained. Having a chef friend came in handy.

It reminded you of all the times you’d cooked with Carmy.

“It probably just needs more acid to balance it out.” She told you. You nodded and tried to tweak the sauce.

“Oh, by the way, there’s this big dinner next week. Have you heard of the restaurant Ever? They’re closing and having this big final dinner thing. You should come with me. It’ll be fun.” She suggested, bracing for your quick no.

You paused and looked over at Sydney on your screen. She instantly knew the expression on your face meant no way. “Is Carmy gonna be there?” You asked, slowly.

Sydney pursed her lips and looked away from the camera. You glared at her as she refused to tell you. “I will respectfully pass then. I really don’t want to go to a dinner with my ex-boyfriend.” You told her, honestly.

Sydney sighed. “Oh, come on. They’ll be a bunch of people there. You probably won’t even see him.” Sydney said, and you both knew she was lying.

You persistently shook your head. “I really don’t want to see him. There’s too much history, Syd.” You told her. She knew she had slim odds of convincing you, but she was going to try. To do so, she was going to try every possible angle.

“I have this chef friend. His name is Luca, and he’ll be there. I think you’d like him. He’s cute.” She said, smirking at you. You gave her a disappointed look. “I told you no more love drama. I’m not ready to start dating some new guy.” You said.

You tasted your sauce as Sydney rambled on about why you and Luca would hit it off. “You know another plus? It would make a certain someone jealous.” She said, winking at you.

You froze at the reference to Carmy. Over the past few weeks, Sydney had refused to talk about Carmy unless you brought him up, so it was new to hear her mention him. “I’m not gonna take advantage of some guy just to get back at Carmy.” You persisted.

“Luca’s a nice guy. He might even be down to pretend just to help you make Carmy jealous.” Sydney playfully threw the idea out there. You felt a laugh slip through your lips. “That would be hilarious.” You said, treating the suggestion as a joke.

“I can ask him.” Sydney said, dead serious. You looked at her, mentally weighing your options. You almost considered it for a second. “No, Syd. I was just kidding.” You said.

You both hung up, so that you could finish making dinner. You completely forgot about the conversation. Until the next day when you got a text from Sydney.

“Luca says he’ll do it.”

When it came to the night of the Ever dinner, you were extremely anxious.

Anxious to see Carmy. Anxious to possibly see Claire. Anxious for how Carmy would react.

You were currently standing in the lobby as you waited for Sydney to show up. You felt too awkward to go in and have to find Luca on your own. You nervously fidgeted with the necklace you were wearing.

You had picked a dress that made you feel really confident. If you were going to try to make Carmy jealous, you knew you needed to up your game.

You heard footsteps coming down the hallway and looked up to see Sydney. “Hey, there you are. You look so good.” She said, giving you a hug.

You thanked her and returned the compliment. “You seem nervous. You doing okay?” She asked you, noticing the way you were fidgeting. You shrugged. “Kinda stressed, but just trying to power through it,” you said.

“Everything is gonna go fine, I promise.” She assured you. She led you into the dining room. You saw a blonde man raise his hand and wave you both over. As you walked over to the table, you glanced around the room. You saw no sign of Carmy.

He pulled Sydney in for a hug and then turned to you. “Luca. It’s nice to meet you.” He said, sticking his hand out for you to shake. You smiled and introduced yourself.

He quickly pulled your chair out for you, letting you sit down. “So, what’s the whole story with Carmy? I’ve been dying to know. Sydney told me a little bit.” Luca said, sitting and turning to face you.

“We dated for a few years. I moved away for a job, and he broke things off. His new girlfriend is pissed at me, simply for existing. And I don’t think he knows how to be friends with me after all these years.” You summarized.

“That is wild. Did you move to Germany, by chance?” He asked. You and Sydney both perked up when he said Germany. “Yeah, I did. How did you know that?” You asked, curiously.

“I went to culinary school with Carmy, and he always talked about his girlfriend who lived in Germany.” He told you.

“Yeah that was me, but we broke up before I left. So, we were definitely broken up when he told you that.” You said, realizing how hard Carmy must have taken the breakup. Luca slowly nodded. “My best guess based on the way he talked about you is he definitely wasn’t over you.” He told you.

You felt a pit in your stomach as you thought about it. You always figured Carmy moved on quickly because he was the one who broke things off. But, you were starting to realize how much he regretted that.

“I’m going to run to the restroom really quick, but I’ll be right back.” Luca said, standing up and excusing himself.

“Carm’s not bringing Claire tonight, right?” You turned and asked Sydney. She shook your head. “No, I asked him and he said she’s working tonight.” She told you. You breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carmy walk into the room. “Oh, shit,” you mumbled to yourself. Sydney looked over her shoulder and also saw Carmy.

He walked over towards your table. When you both locked eyes, you could tell he was shocked to see you.

Sydney stood up to give Carmy a quick hug. You also stood up. Carmy’s eyes raked down your body as he saw your dress for the first time.

It took everything in him to fight the urge to tell you how amazing you looked. He gave you a quick side hug. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” He mentioned to you before sitting back down.

He sat on Sydney’s other side. His gaze lingered on you. He saw you in that dress, and he knew he was screwed.

Then, Luca returned to the table.

“Oh, hey man, it’s nice to see you.” Carmy said, recognizing Luca. They both exchanged some pleasantries. Carmy seemed excited to see an old friend. Luca walked behind Carmy and back to his seat next to you.

“I got you a drink.” Luca said, handing you a glass. You smiled up at him and thanked him. Carmy furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t even think you both knew each other.

Luca’s hand softly grazed your back as he sat down beside you. “Do you umm…do you guys know each other?” Carmy asked. He was biting down on his lip.

“Carmy, Luca’s my date.” You said, watching as Carmy clenched his jaw. His grip tightened around his glass. You were almost concerned it would shatter. “Wait do you two know each other?” Luca played dumb, gesturing between you and Carmy.

“Yeah, we dated.” Carmy said, through clenched teeth. Luca slowly nodded his head like he was realizing the awkwardness of the situation.

Sydney covered her mouth as she tried not to laugh. Carmy was never someone who was able to mask his emotions. His jealousy was written all over his face.

“I’m surprised Claire isn’t here.” You said, with a tone colder than you meant to use. Carmy cocked his head to the side. “She uhh…had to work.” He said. He was thankful Claire wasn’t there. If she saw how jealous Carmy was acting, it’d lead to another fight. They’d been having a lot of fights about you.

Some other chef came up to introduce themselves to Carmy. Luca took the opportunity to reach over and grab your hand. Carmy saw the whole thing. Carmy moved his hands under the table, so no one could see how hard he was clenching his fists.

You and Carmy knew each other like the back of your hands, so neither of you missed any little subtle reactions.

Luca leaned over to you. “You were definitely right about this getting under his skin.” He whispered in your ear. You giggled, pretending like he’d just told you something funny.

Carmy rolled his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking. A second later, you saw a text pop up on your phone.

When you saw Carmy’s name, you grabbed your phone and held it in your lap. The text read:

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You had to stop yourself from laughing. Carmy was beyond easy to read. You quickly texted him back: “I didn’t think I had to. I didn’t even know you guys knew each other.”

Carmy was jealous enough that you had a date, but it was worse because Luca was one of his friends.

You saw Carmy huff as he read your message. Then, he furiously typed back a response.

“Oh, c’mon. You don’t think I know you well enough to know that’s bullshit? You should’ve told me.”

You turned off your phone and set it upside down on the table. One of the other chefs at the table started telling a story, which captured everyone’s attention except yours and Carmy’s.

Carmy kept looking over at the way your fingers were interlaced with Luca’s. He also saw how you both kept giddily smiling at each other.

You glanced over at Carmy after feeling him staring at you. He gestured towards the hallway. “Can we talk?” He mouthed to you. You shook your head and shifted your attention back to who was talking.

Towards the end of the party, Carmy was as frustrated as he could be. He’d watched you and Luca flirting all night. And you were ignoring him.

About half of the guests had left, and everyone was having small side conversations. Sydney had left because she had plans afterwards with her dad.

You and Luca were still chatting. Carmy was across the table as the guy next him continued rambling. Carmy wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation. His eyes were glued to you.

You grabbed ahold of Luca’s arm and then leaned over to whisper in his ear. You suggested a way to really make Carmy jealous. Luca played along.

Luca’s eyes went wide, and he rushed to stand up. He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him out to the lobby. You both did your best to pull eager expressions.

Carmy watched you both as you left. He couldn’t shake the pit in his stomach about where you both were going.

Luca pulled you into the one-person bathroom, leaving the door open just a crack. You both knew it was only a minute before Carmy came chasing after you.

“You’re an evil genius. Carmy is gonna lose his shit.” Luca said, laughing at your plan. You walked over to the sink and jumped up so you were sitting on the counter. You both were in a fit of laughter imagining Carmy’s reaction.

Until you heard quick footsteps in the hallway. Luca stepped towards you, and you pulled him to stand in between your legs. “You good?” He asked you, quietly. You quickly nodded, and you both started the show, knowing Carmy was close by.

Luca quickly kissed you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed him back. You unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He ran his fingers through your hair, so it looked a little messy.

Just as you predicted, the door yanked open, and Carmy barged in.

“Carmy, what the fuck?” You asked, pulling out of the kiss.

Carmy’s face was bright red, half from anger and half from seeing you kissing his friend. “Hey, mate. C’mon now,” Luca said.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Carmy said, walking right up to Luca. Luca towered over Carmy, but right now Carmy didn’t care. He’d watched Luca put his hands on you, and he was pissed.

“Carm, leave him alone.” You said, jumping off the counter and standing in between the two men. Luca had a slight smirk. Carmy read it as cockiness, but you knew he was trying not to laugh.

“Do you think you can just put your hands all over her?” Carmy asked, looking past you at Luca.

You grabbed Carmy’s wrist. “That’s enough, Carm. Come on,” you said, dragging him out of the bathroom with you. Over Carmy’s shoulder, you saw Luca give you a thumbs up.

You pulled Carmy with you until you both were on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. You walked over next to where Carmy’s car was parked.

“Alright, Carmy, what the hell is up with you?” You asked, crossing your arms.

His eyes went wide. He wanted to be asking you the same thing. “Nothing's up with me. What about you? You never thought to tell me you were going out with my friend?” He snapped.

You rolled your eyes. “Why do I have to tell you anything. Remember, you and I aren’t dating anymore. I don’t owe you any information.” You told him. Carmy ran his fingers through his hair, huffing to himself.

“Because I care about you. Even if we’re not dating, I still consider you a friend.” He told you. You shook your head, taking a step back from him. “I told you that you couldn’t care about me as much as you do. You’re dating Claire.” You reminded him.

“Claire has nothing to do with this. This is about you pushing me away. I haven’t talked to you in weeks, and I miss talking to you. I know I messed up with the kiss, but you said you could forget it.” He said, his voice cracking slightly. You could tell that everything he was saying was true.

This is where the conversation became a lot more real for you. This wasn’t about your fake date anymore.

“Of course I pushed you away. Because I’m fucking scared, Carmy. When you get scared, you run away. I can’t trust that you’ll actually stay. Even just to be friends. If Claire asked you to stay away from me, you would.” You told him. Your chest felt tight as you finally told him how you’d felt for years. After Carmy broke things off, you’d never been able to get closure.

“I wouldn’t leave you like that.” He said, hurt by the implications.

You tried to take a deep breath, but you felt your eyes start to water. “You’ve done it before.” You snapped. He froze when he realized you were talking about Germany.

“Yeah, remember that I wanted to try long distance, but you got scared? So, you broke things off. You were my best friend, and you just called it quits.” You complained, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“I was trying to save us. I knew how wrong long distance could go. I didn’t want us to hate each other when we broke up.” He told you. You quickly wiped your tears off your cheeks. Carmy started pacing.

“It fucking killed me, Carm.” You said, looking over at him. He almost broke seeing the emotion on your face.

“So, that’s what all this was? This was all revenge? Ignoring me and going on a date with my friend. It was just to give me a taste of my own medicine?” He asked you. You shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“Oh my god, Carmy. Not everything is about you. Maybe I was ignoring you because it was hard seeing you with Claire. And then you tried to tell me you still loved me. I don’t deserve to have that dumped on my plate to deal with.” You told him. You were so irritated that Carmy still wasn’t understanding.

“Do you want me to apologize for how much you mean to me? Because I won’t do it.” He told you, crossing his arms.

“I just want you to acknowledge how fucked up it is that you keep trying to flip flop. You either love me or you don’t. But either way, figure it out and don’t drag me through this anymore—” Carmy cut you off with a kiss.

He grabbed your hips and nudged you back against the side of his car. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him close to you. He hesitated for a second.

“Luca’s inside,” he mumbled, stopping you. You shook your head. “We weren’t actually on a date. We did it to make you jealous.” You told him.

You realized that while Luca wasn’t an issue, Claire was.

“Of course you did,” Carmy said with a chuckle. He cupped your face and leaned in to kiss you again. You put your hands on his chest and pushed him away. “We…can’t,” you said, in between kisses.

He buried his face in your neck, pressing kisses to your skin. “Claire,” you mumbled. It was hard for you to not get distracted when Carmy’s lips were on you.

“What about her?” Carmy asked simply. He refocused his attention back on kissing your jawline. “Are you still with her?” You asked him, trying to stop your eyes from fluttering closed.

“Well yes but…” he started to say. You shook your head, moving his face so you could look him in the eyes. “No buts,” you told him firmly.

“I was planning on breaking it off tomorrow after I saw you in this dress tonight. I knew I’d never be able to get you off my mind.” He told you, letting his hands run along the curve of your back. He toyed with the fabric of your dress, caressing your sides.

You leaned into his touch. You always loved the way his hands felt on you. “We shouldn’t, until you tell her.” You said, even though every part of you wanted to kiss him again.

“I’m going to tell her. I promise. I won’t chicken out.” He assured you, noticing your hesitancy.

“We still should wait.” You said. The phrase came out more like a question than a statement. He leaned in closer to you. His nose brushed against yours. “Or we could…” he said, not needing to finish the sentence for you to know what he meant.

You grabbed his collar again and pulled him in to kiss you. He feverishly kissed you back. He quickly reached around his pockets to fish out his car keys.

He unlocked the car door and pulled the back door open for you. You practically jumped into the back seat. Carmy looked around before joining you in the car.

“We’ve waited five years. That feels like enough.” You said, in between kissing him.

“So long— too long,” Carmy corrected himself.

You cupped his face as you kissed him. He playfully nipped at your bottom lip before sneaking his tongue into your mouth. His hands were gripping onto your thighs as your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips tasted like the scotch he’d been drinking.

You were like a drug to Carmy. After not having you for so long, he couldn’t get enough of you. Especially not after hearing you whimper when he pushed his hips against yours.

He sat up quickly to shrug his jacket off his shoulders. You grabbed it and tossed it into the front seat.

You admired him as he straddled you. “You look so pretty staring at up me.” He said, leaning down to peck your lips.

Impatiently, you started unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt while he undid his tie. You ripped his shirt off his arms, letting it fall to the floor. His tie followed behind it.

You were silent as you admired Carmy. You ran your fingers over his chest, admiring his toned chest. “You really…wow,” you mumbled.

He laid you back down on the seat. “You’re getting to admire me, but I’m not getting to see you, gorgeous,” he whispered into your ear. You shivered as you felt his breath on your neck.

He reached down to the bottom of your dress and pulled it over your head. “You look fuckin’ breathtaking,” he said as his lips ghosted down your neck.

He placed a kiss on your lips and then started placing lips down your neck and down your chest. You almost whined as he placed a kiss right between your breasts. He continued leaving sloppy kisses down in a line til he got right above your panties.

He stopped and looked up at you with a smirk. “Such a tease,” you mumbled, pulling his lips back to yours.

“Normally, I’d make you wait a little bit, but I think we’ve both done enough waiting.” He said, slipping his fingers under your bra straps and tugging them off your shoulders.

“C’mere, sweetheart, can’t reach behind ya,” he said, pulling you both up.

He was sitting on the seat with you straddling his lap. You reached behind your back and quickly undid your bra. It fell into Carmy’s lap. You watched his eyes go wide, and you could feel his pants start to tighten below you.

You leaned forward and kissed Carmy’s neck. You started softly sucking on the skin. Carmy leaned his head back against the seat. A low groan escaped his lips.

You reached down to unbuckle his belt. You pulled his pants down to hang around his ankles. You could see how strained his boxers were.

“You’re not gonna leave me, Berzatto?” You asked him. He quickly shook his head. “Never leavin’ you ever again,” he said, reaching out to grab your hips.

You tugged down his boxers enough for his cock to spring out. “You look so fuckin’ sexy.” He groaned, biting down on his lip as he watched you.

He grabbed your hips and held you up as you lined him up. You slowly sunk down on him. You let out a muffled moan as you bit your lip. Carmy sighed and threw his head back.

“Oh my god, Carm,” you mumbled as he stretched you out. He nodded with his eyes tightly closed.

You braced your hands on his shoulders and pulled yourself up and sunk back down onto his length. “Oh…god, you feel— perfect,” Carmy groaned.

He massaged one your breasts in his hand, rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. A high-pitched whine escaped your lips. “That feel good, baby?” Carmy asked, growing cockier by the second. He attached his lips to your other breast, softly sucking and biting.

You quickly nodded your head as you continued to your roll your hips against his. “I’m gonna mark you up so good, sweatheart,” Carmy told you as continued sucking on your soft skin.

“Make me yours, Carm,” you begged. You quickened your pace, slamming your hips down into his. The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the car.

Your eyes rolled back as Carmy hit your g-spot. You desperately tried to grab onto something. Your fingers missed the headrest and slid across the foggy window.

Carmy was mumbling profanities under his breath. His hips thrusted up to meet yours. He got too eager, and you hit the back of your head against the roof of the car.

“Ow, fuck,” you muttered as Carmy cupped the back of your head with his hand.

“C’mere,” he said, slipping his arms around your waist. He pulled you against his chest and shifted you both so you were laying down with him on top of you.

“You don’t have to do any of the work. Just let me treat you real nice,” he told you. He roughly grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist.

With the new angle, he reached even deeper inside of you. “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” you muttered, weaving your fingers through Carmy’s hair.

“That feel good?” He asked you, thrusting quicker into you. You ferociously nodded. “Yeah, you fill me up so good.” You praised him. Your moans only encouraging Carmy to go faster.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he mumbled. He reached down and starting rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck, Carmy,” you yelled out. He kissed you to help muffle your moans. You could feel a tightening in your stomach. You were seeing stars.

You both were distracted when you heard something vibrating on the floor. You both quickly glanced over and saw Carmy’s phone with Claire’s name scrolling across the top. “Oh, shit,” you mumbled, “do you need to—” you started to ask before Carmy stopped you by pressing down on your clit for a second.

Your hips bucked up against his. A loud whine fell from your lips. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. I’m not answering her call when I’m this deep inside you. Tonight’s all about you, not her.” He mumbled against your neck. He pressed sloppy kisses against your throat.

“Y’know, she knew she couldn’t compete with you. She knew you and me were meant for each other.” He told you.

Your nails scratched down Carmy’s back as you got closer to your high. “Please, Carmy— faster,” you begged him. He quickly obliged.

The sound of you both panting filled the car. His thrusts started to falter. “Look at me, baby. Wanna watch you fall apart,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck.

You balled your hands up in his hair, tugging on his curls. “I’m gonna—” you whined. His hips sped up, ramming into yours. “Yeah, me too,” he said in between groans.

You felt him twitch, and you both came together. A long string of profanities came rolling out of your mouth. He leaned back down to kiss you. His thrusts slowed down as he helped you both cool down.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over so he was laying down with you on top of him. He brushed your hair out of your face, which was pretty sweaty now.

“I fuckin’ love you. No running, you’re it for me.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

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[cosmichoneibeee]

Hey, since requests are open, may I ask for hcs or something for Viper x female reader working together in the lab? Kind of strangers to a mutual secret crush? Thank you~ <3

Being Viper's laboratory colleague and secret crush

Words count: +/- 4.8k

A/N: Hi anon, maybe I got a little carried away on this topic. I love Viper so much and everything that involves her, I always end up losing a little bit of the notion of how much has already been done when I write to her. Also, ladies, take your eyes off her, she's my wife

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠

It wasn't meant to be like this, it wasn’t meant to happen

Viper doesn't usually hire new scientists to work with her, but she made an exception after seeing your resume

For you, just having the opportunity to work for Sabine Callas is like winning the jackpot

And for her, it's great to see at least one person as interested in what she does as you are - unlike other people she has to deal with on a daily basis, as she says

She started to really realize you existed when she realized how much you looked like herself when she was younger: eager and euphoric to make the world different

But that doesn't mean she'll go easy on you.

From day 1 you knew how strict she was with the work you were supposed to do, perfect wouldn't be near enough

You'd expect her to be short and to the point, but she seemed to nag you a little too much.

Expects you to work overtime virtually every day

You didn't like her from the beginning, despite her being an extremely beautiful and intelligent woman

It's not hard to imagine that you almost regretted applying for this job after all the demands and care you had to take just to make a report and then having to hear how bad it was from Sabine herself every single time

She really made your life hell

Until the day where just you and her stayed late

After being told to redo all the work you have made for almost a month, you broke down and exploded, asking why she was so mean

She watched you in silence as you babbled angrily, with that look of superiority, of always being ready to end your life in a few words

But she didn't do that, she just sighed

"I just don't want you to become like me." "And your work was…reasonable."

Were the only things she said that night, aside from her usual commands

After that day, you noticed that she had become less strict with you and that was an incredible relief, knowing that your job wasn't so bad after all

She liked the change, you were much more productive that way and you smiled more

God only knows how much she enjoyed seeing a less stressed, always on the edge, side of yours

And suddenly, she found herself counting the minutes for you to get to the lab, to walk in radiant, like the first brightest ray of morning sunlight, to ask how a reaction worked or to ask for help with something, that she “unfortunately” had to be almost glued to you to show how it was done

You've been her protégé, since your first day, you just didn't realize it yet

Of course, she would like to see you a better version than the day before, but she always overlooked the little mistakes you made in your reports and she will continue to.

And no one will dare say anything about you, ever, because Sabine has ears everywhere and she doesn't mind having a live subject to try her toxins

She may have fallen in love first, but you'll fall in love harder

Prince Sabine

Such a gentleman and elegant

Already keep in mind that she will never say outright that she likes you, but she will let her actions speak for you to realize someday

Blanket over your shoulders when you stay late to research and end up sleeping in your own notes

And if she finds out that you drink coffee, every morning your favorite cup will already be full

Sabine has a lot of money, it is natural for her to drink good quality (and very expensive) coffee, you will start drinking too because you deserve it.

She gets extra gentle after disappearing for a few days to do her “personal project” stuff

She likes to watch you, almost admiring from afar, but you'll never catch her looking, she hides it very well

You on the other hand is always caught staring at her, it’s like she has a sixth sense and always knows when you’re looking

She gets sooo confident after these moments

You'll just see a discreet smirk and her going back to work as if nothing had happened, but inside? She is holding back from shaking her hands in euphoria and blushing like a teen.

The only time you can pick up tidbits of information about her personal life is during your overtime, when only the two of you are working.

She won’t say much, but hey, any information is information

And she gets more...touchy in those moments when you two are alone - as touchy as Viper can be

She snakes a hand up your back, soft and slow, looking for any reaction of disgust or fear from you.

She notices the way you look at her when you two are working, she's not stupid

But she can't believe that life would be so kind as to give her someone as perfect as you.

Not after all she have done

She makes baby steps in your “relationship”

Part of her hopes you'll get tired of waiting and go find someone else

Part of her expects you to stick with her and keep coming after her, because she will come after you...someday.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠

@ Do not copy any of my works, translate and/or post it on others websites.

[imakemywings]

For the femslash requests: Mithrellas x Nimrodel with one carrying the other in her arms

Hi anon!! I actually had to do some research to remind myself who these characters are exactly but then I got a bit carried away so...here's all this.

Here's also a fun version of the song of Nimrodel, which Legolas sings for the Fellowship in FotR!

Summary: Mithrellas would follow Nimrodel anywhere--even across the Sundering Seas--but fate has other things in store.

Length: 4.8k

This fills the "F/F," "history," and "ace/aro" squares on Fellowship of the Fics' Pride Month bingo.

AO3 | Pillowfort | SWG

Where She Wanders None Can Tell

Long ago had Mithrellas made her choice. When Nimrodel had come among them speaking words that sparked like fire and pushed like river currents, Mithrellas reoriented towards her, and with her went her cousin Almmir and her brother Enelion, and for many years they followed Nimrodel. Now Almmir lay beneath one of the elms from which she took her name, and Enelion was departed to live among the sedentary, settled Elves of Lothlorien, but not before a terrible parting quarrel with Mithrellas.

(Traitor, Mithrellas had accused in her fey temper, You abandon everything we have stood for!)

Yet the hour was come when proud Nimrodel’s resistance to King Amroth’s proposal at last expired; Mithrellas had stood by the eaves of Fangorn Forest while the pair plighted their troth and Nimrodel agreed to follow him west, and over the Sundering Seas.

And Mithrellas was to go with her.  

Once, Nimrodel, full-throated and straight-backed, had decried the very notion of village-building, and chastised with fire and brimstone these newcome Elves from the west who ate up land and stirred up trouble. She disdained the settlement of Lothlorien and refused to speak other Elvish tongues. Now, she had confessed lowly to Mithrellas, tucked against the bole of a tree in the twilight, it seemed all other paths had been closed to them. A balrog sundered Moria to pieces, and there were whispers of a shadow growing in the Greenwood, and Fangorn whence they fled from Lorien had closed itself to them. Moreover, Amroth whom she loved meant to leave these lands for good.

Who will rule in Lorien after him? Nimrodel asked. For doubtless there would be a new lord, and she did not believe it would be anyone as trustworthy.

Mithrellas meant to tell her to fight. She meant to echo some of Nimrodel’s own stirring words and infectious passions. But Mithrellas had no gift of tongue, and before Nimrodel in particular she faltered, and so she said nothing, and Nimrodel kept her own counsel.

Still Mithrellas was silent as to her thoughts while they assembled themselves for the journey westward. Amroth and Nimrodel meant to leave immediately with Amroth’s small company of staff and what of the remnants of Nimrodel’s band that would follow her so far.

On the morning of their final preparations, Mithrellas combed out Nimrodel’s glossy black hair, and tied it up in a braid that hung to her ankles. Accustomed to traveling afoot, they had been prepared to leave much behind to hasten the journey west, but Amroth had supplied mounts, and Nimrodel’s followers found them more than adequate to carry everything. They were, after all, nomads.

“You keep quiet counsel,” Nimrodel observed as Mithrellas carefully arranged a few sacks of food onto one of the saddles. The sunlight gleamed off her hair and Mithrellas wondered if they ought to produce the summer hoods, to keep them from taking too much sun on such a long, exposed ride.

“Nothing have I to add,” Mithrellas replied, tightening a strap.

“Nothing? Or disapproval?” Nimrodel speculated. Mithrellas’ hands slowed, then stopped.

“I go whence my lady goes,” she said at last, staring at the horse’s flank. “There is naught in it for me to approve or disapprove.”

“Mithrellas has no opinion on this journey?”

“Mithrellas has chores to be done,” answered she. Now she looked at Nimrodel. “And what counsel she has, she has given.”

“As I have spoken, none are obliged to make this journey with me,” Nimrodel said. “Doubtless Enelion would welcome you into his home, if your preference was to remain.”

“It is not,” said Mithrellas. “Not in absence of my lady.”

Long Nimrodel regarded her, the brightness of the sun only just reaching the edges of her loam-dark eyes. At last she said: “Nothing have I done to warrant such loyalty, yet all the same, I will be glad with your presence. These are troubled times, and yours is a soothing companionship.” For a moment, Mithrellas thought that Nimrodel meant to touch her, and she held her breath, but at length the lady only nodded and departed to preparations of her own.

***

The sun shone invitingly on their traveling band through all the start of their journey, so that even Mithrellas felt inclined to tentative optimism. Nimrodel rode at the head with Amroth, and Mithrellas in the back with another to ensure none fell behind. Nimrodel sat her saddle with a back as straight as an oak, but Mithrellas caught the little twitches of her head each time she knew Nimrodel wished to look back, but dared not give the impression of second-guessing her choice. Occasionally, the sound of Amroth’s voice reached back, borne on the wind, doubtless reassuring Nimrodel that she had made the right decision.

Mithrellas occasionally was obligated to glance back to make sure they had dropped nothing, and she tried to draw in these last looks at their homeland for the sake of Nimrodel.

At night they rested the horses and Nimrodel’s remaining people sat alongside Amroth’s and together they ate, and on one upbeat night, traded folk songs one after another.

But the foreboding of Mithrellas and Nimrodel was proven not all amiss when they reached the White Mountains. Knowing the danger of the path, the Elves had girded themselves to contend with those beings which inhabited the mountains, including goblins, giants who took none too kindly to trespass, and remnants of Morgoth’s creatures which gathered in hazardous places where Elves and Men seldom lingered.

What proved most treacherous after all, though, was the weather.

Even at this gentler time of year, for which reason Amroth had urged Nimrodel to accept now rather than wait until the year waned, the mountains were formidable, and the weather like to change on a whim.

Halfway through their first day into the pass, rain began to lash the company, and it did not let up until they were near to elevation, at which point the rain dissolved into a seemingly impenetrable fog. Landslides, rockfalls, and bolting horses contributed to the chaos, until Mithrellas and Nimrodel had only three other Elves alongside them, and had lost sight of Amroth and his men entirely.

“We must carry on!” Nimrodel insisted, her voice echoing against the rock. She bled from a gash across her right cheek and ear where a fragment of stone had struck her. “Amroth will wait for us on the other side, if needs be!”

By the time they reached the downside of the mountains, Mithrellas and Nimrodel were alone.

The mountain reclined into forest, where fog once more enveloped them amidst the thick foliage of that ancient wood. There was no path on which to walk, nor was either woman familiar with this place, and the horses and Silvan had committed acts of mutual abandonment so that Mithrellas and Nimrodel were on foot and bare of their provisions.

All her life Mithrellas had spent in the loving if occasionally stern embrace of the trees, and yet to stand there in that forest made her skin crawl as if she were a rabbit under the shadow of an owl.

Nimrodel looked about them in bewilderment, seeing no sign of Amroth, nor of the others of the company, nor of their mounts, and Mithrellas suspected her iron-willed lady was close to a breaking point.

“We must carry on!” Mithrellas echoed. “Amroth will await you beyond this foul wood!” It was not like her to cast such aspersions on a plant of any kind, but such were her nerves at that time.

Nimrodel spoke not, but they moved forward through the wood, taking turns at the lead. Mithrellas refused to look back; she did not want to see how deep into the forest they had gone, and she wished to give Nimrodel the reassurance of thinking that Mithrellas was certain of their course.

It was only when she paused in her blundering forward that she realized she could no longer hear Nimrodel’s steps behind her.

“My lady?” She turned back. “My lady?” It was possible Nimrodel had stepped into the foliage only for a moment, but unusual not to ask for a halt. When no answer came, Mithrellas tried again, panic beginning to swell her throat. “My lady, are you there? Please, answer me!”

There was only the wind in the trees, and the dying screech of some small animal—a rabbit, perhaps.

“My lady!” Mithrellas began to run back the way they had come, and she had gone but a few yards when she spied Nimrodel prone on the ground. “My lady!”

Nimrodel did not stir when Mithrellas rolled her over, nor did she wake when Mithrellas pinched her cheeks.

“Never fear, my lady,” she panted, dragging Nimrodel upright to scoop her into her arms. “I will see us through.” Nimrodel had led long enough—let it be Mithrellas now who was the pillar on which to lean.

Mithrellas had feared days of travel, but the woods came to an end by the close of day—or nearabout as Mithrellas could tell under such cloud cover—and not in all those hours did it cease to torment them. Every sound was an alarm; her face was stung with nettles; the howl of wolves chased at their heels; and the fog, the fog which covered all, which netted them up like flies in a web; which denied Mithrellas any sense of direction so that they were stumbling out of the eaves of the forest before she even knew it was over.

Heavily it seemed she felt Nimrodel’s weight as she staggered with relief through the thinning underbrush.

“Done,” she gasped. “That’s done!” Yet when she looked down to give Nimrodel a smile, her arms were empty, and the weight was gone. Eyes flying open, mouth agape, Mithrellas whipped about.

“My lady?” she cried, the register of her voice leaping to a hysterical squeal. “My lady!” She ran in circles around the edge of the forest, thoroughly convincing herself she could have dropped Nimrodel and somehow not noticed. “My lady!”

The trees loomed dark and jagged out of the obliterating fog, and Mithrellas panted like a trapped animal.

But she had made her choice long ago.

Back into the forest she went, beating through the foliage, looking for some evidence which did not exist.

“My lady!” she wailed. “My lady! Nimrodel!”

***

Two years Mithrellas spent in the forest in Dor-en-Ernil, trying to bury a fact she had known in her heart from the first moment she stepped back into the woods: there would be no sign of Nimrodel’s fate. Yet for the sake of one beloved, one may convince oneself of many things. At times, Mithrellas felt certain even that she had entered the forest alone, that Nimrodel must have remained behind in the mountains, and she ranged about there as well, but found no trace of Nimrodel, nor of Amroth, nor any of the others who had been with them.

When Imrazôr the Númenórean of Gondor found her with his hunting band, she could have mapped every inch of that forest, and could have believed herself the last person on earth, and had no will left for fighting. Everything of herself she had emptied into her quest for Nimrodel; there was nothing left, it seemed, of Mithrellas.

Imrazȏr, enraptured at once, promised her wealth and family and honor as a noble lady of Gondor, but all that Mithrellas heard was: rest. A place she might close her eyes, someone else to look after her, a forced end to the torment of her vain search.

So, wearily, Mithrellas plighted troth with Imrazȏr, and took the cloak he offered her from his own back, and as she turned away from the woods, she drew up the hood, and wept rather than look back.

***

Elves did not wed with Men, and Mithrellas was an oddity in Belfalas, the only one of her kind there, and Men even less familiar with Silvan Elves than with other Elven kindreds. They gaped at the geometric patterns inked beneath her eyes and on her chin, and many openly suspected she had ensorcelled their lord with Elven magics (to what this referred, Mithrellas could not possibly have guessed). Imrazȏr told her the fate of King Amroth of Lorien, and then—perhaps wishing to make a show of sympathy to his Elven wife for her drowned kindred—renamed the high hill on which his castle sat Dol Amroth. It seemed to Mithrellas that she slept now upon two graves.

(She thought better of Amroth, though: she too, would have thrown herself into the sea rather than be carried away from Nimrodel.)

Imrazȏr her husband treated her kindly enough, if he was dismissive of her thoughts, as he was dismissive of the thoughts of all women, and Mithrellas forgot that there had been a time she would not have tolerated being talked down to by men many hundreds of years her junior.

The Men of Belfalas laughed when they learned Mithrellas could not read nor write, and made many japes about the supposed superiority of Elfinesse, though one woman gently offered to write to any of Mithrellas’ family, if they would be able to read the letter. She thought of Enelion far off in Lothlorien, and of the differences she might cite between herself and Elves of the Sindar, Noldor, or other cultures, and declined the offer.

Traitor, she thought. Traitor, traitor, traitor.

A son she bore Imrazȏr, for it was expected: Galador, who was called the first prince of Dol Amroth. Imrazȏr was delighted with the boy, particularly as he had been concerned, Mithrellas knew, over the fertility of a union such as theirs, when she had not beget a child within the first year of their marriage. A hefty part of his attention was thus diverted to the boy, and he asked less after Mithrellas, and that was not entirely displeasing to her.

What would Nimrodel think of her now, as she sat in her hard-seated throne beside Imrazȏr, ruling over a court of Men, birthing Mannish children, keeping behind the cold walls of Dol Amroth as she was bidden?

Imrazȏr had seen her dirty and wild in the woods, and believed she was a broken thing which he could fix. What he misunderstood was that Mithrellas had no desire to be fixed. In her brokenness, life was made bearable: if she felt not the joy of her child’s love, nor the tenderness of friendship with the Men of Belfalas, nor the satisfaction of tasks well done, neither did she feel grief for Nimrodel or her lost people, which it seemed must consume her if she permitted it to exist at all. Perhaps to live in a city of stone, one must become stone, and so Mithrellas resisted the return of any feeling beyond the detached indifference which had carried her through the last several years.

On a time Imrazȏr gifted her a beautiful rowan horse on their anniversary, one which she knew by then must have cost a fortune, and took her riding out in the fields beyond the city walls, though the hill of Dol Amroth was always visible wherever they roamed.

He told her that he loved her, and called her “wife,” and praised her work in decorating the castle, though he chided her for allowing Galador to run too wild and grew cross here and there with her seemingly perpetual dolor. A-times he even managed to lighten her melancholy with his words or his songs, and Mithrellas told herself that this—that Dol Amroth, that Gondor, that Imrazôr—was her future, and so she became pregnant a second time.

***

Galador played in the yards and the streets like other mortal boys. When he played pretend, he named the kings of Númenor and the heroes of the houses of Hador, Bëor, and Haleth. When he spoke of the future, it was of ruling Dol Amroth and already other children deferred to him as the son of Imrazôr. He grew so quickly to Mithrellas’ eye—already he seemed halfway to adolescence, and yet it had been only a handful of years ago that she had produced him.

He was not interested in learning the names of plants or the histories of the Elves, for the Men of Dol Amroth boasted that the Age of Men was come, and the time of the Elves was past, and plant-lore was wise-women’s work, and Galador had little interest at that age in being a healer of any kind.

When Mithrellas took him out, he liked to race along the beach and wrestle in the mud, and sometimes that brought a smile to her face, but Imrazȏr did not think it appropriate for a young boy to spend too much time with his mother, nor was it thought proper for the princess of Dol Amroth to romp with a child; and Mithrellas often had other chores about the castle of which to take care. (These moments necessitated particular attention to her detachment, for they often came close to the tasks she had managed for her people before, in which she had once taken pride.)

There was the same fuss at Mithrellas’ second birth as there had been at the first, and it sobered her then as before to be reminded how fraught an endeavor it was for mortal women. Imrazȏr seemed relieved to find both mother and baby alive at the end of it.

Nevertheless, Mithrellas perceived that he was disappointed to have a baby girl, rather than another boy (She understood that in Gondor, as among some other peoples, only a male child could inherit land and titles by law, and so there was a preference for boy children). He offered to let her chose the name, but she accepted his suggestion of “Gilmith” as she knew she could not give the child an Elvish name. “Gilmith” recalled some ancestors of Imrazȏr whose story Mithrellas had not bothered to listen to, and when she looked at the child asleep in its cradle, she could not attach the name to the baby. “Gilmith” meant nothing to her. Gilmith did not belong to her.

“When you are well,” said Imrazȏr, “we must make plans to journey to Minas Tirith. It is time Galador saw the capitol.”

Mithrellas had heard from their guests and those of Dol Amroth who had been that Minas Tirith dwarfed Dol Amroth in size and towered as a mountain above the plains. She said nothing, and a nursemaid—not the same who had nursed Galador—arrived to take the babe away. Mithrellas had held her only once.

Mortal women needed time to recover from a birth, but two days gone Mithrellas had regained her strength, and with it, a budding restiveness she could not ignore. One night not a week from Gilmith’s birth, Mithrellas dressed herself and led her horse from the royal stables, bidding the stableboys quiet with a gesture. It was not that Imrazȏr forbade her from leaving Dol Amroth—it was only that he disliked her to go alone, and he would not approve of going so soon after childbirth, and he would tell her to put it off until the weather was better—which would not be so until fall was ended and winter come and gone and spring good and settled once more by his estimation, though the climate at seaside Dol Amroth was quite mild in Mithrellas’ opinion.

So Mithrellas told no one, and left under cover of darkness, and rode out to the edge of Dor-en-Ernil, out to the woods at the foot of the White Mountains. There her horse would go no further, so Mithrellas left it to return home or not, as it chose.

Into the wood she went. The years had not left it much changed, and Mithrellas’ old familiarity with it returned at once.

She walked.

Mithrellas was Elf-kind, and not given to the enfeeblement and world-weariness she had observed in Men, nor was she easily prey to exhaustion, but there was a frayed feeling about her which she had long felt, and it came upon her keenly then, and seemed to increase moment by moment. Her heart throbbed so sharply in her breast it was as if she had taken a blow to the sternum, and a fear began to overtake her that death was at her door. Elves did not die of age, but she had heard they might perish of sorrow, though she had never seen it herself. Perhaps that which she had kept so long at bay had come for her at last.

“I should not have left you behind,” Mithrellas said, pressing forward. It was not until she first stumbled that she became truly aware of how tired and clumsy she had become, but still she went on. The pain in her breast increased, and she felt choked as if there were a hand at her throat. After what seemed like hours of walking, she stumbled for the last time, and hit the ground in a small grassy knoll on her hands and knees.

The forest, which had seemed before to wield such malice, wrapped around her like a cloak. Overhead, the call of birds she had never heard in the city, and rustling through the underbrush little creatures that would be chased out of castle halls. The smell of the fallen leaves and animal trails and flower perfumes surrounded her.

“My lady,” she murmured. “I forgot…I forgot my place.” It was with Nimrodel, it was always with Nimrodel. Had she not decided that centuries past? What had possessed her to take the hand of some Man of a far-off land she knew not? What a coward she was!

Mithrellas sank down into the thick grass. It poked at her face and neck, and she pressed her face into the crisp scent of it.

“Nimrodel,” she whispered to the blades. “Nimrodel, Nimrodel…” What life had she been living in Gondor? Her life she had left behind in the east—with Nimrodel, with their people, with their land. She had gone with Imrazȏr because she was weary—but now it seemed no rest she had found in Gondor, only a different sort of weariness, and the grief from which she had tried to flee still lurking underneath.

A tremor wracked her body, and again the pain in her heart, and Mithrellas closed her eyes, and did not expect to open them again.

It would be good to die in the forest.

***

It was the sound that woke her. An almost halting kind of tune, as if sung by one hesitant, and when the nature of it was clear to her, Mithrellas wept profusely.

“Why do you weep?” asked Nimrodel, ceasing her song.

“For you must be dead, as I am,” Mithrellas answered. “Else I would not hear you here.”

Nimrodel’s arms tightened about her, pulling Mithrellas closer against her.

“Nay, not dead,” said Nimrodel. “For I think then I would not see you as I do now, nor feel your flesh against my flesh. Open your eyes, Mithrellas, and see.”

So Mithrellas opened her eyes, and loath as she was to part from Nimrodel’s embrace, she sat upright immediately, to gaze in wonderment upon the face of her lady. Recognition flooded through her at the sight of Nimrodel’s dark, dark eyes, with their lovely doe-eyed shape, and the tattoos at her throat and forehead which Mithrellas could and had sketched from memory, and her noble black brow.

“My lady!” she gasped, and reached out as if to touch Nimrodel’s face, but drew back before making contact. Nimrodel caught her pale hands and pressed them to her cheeks.

“My Mithrellas,” she said.

“My lady,” said Mithrellas again, and wept. Abruptly, as if remembering, she stopped and said: “Amroth is dead.”

Nimrodel looked sad, but not surprised.

“It has been a long while, hasn’t it?” she said softly. “I feel much has changed.”

“I betrayed your teachings,” Mithrellas blurted out in confession. “I lived in a stone city. I espoused a Man and bore him children. My son will be a prince of Gondor.” Her face crumpled, and the tears resumed. “I would that I had destroyed myself,” she said. “Better to have done it that way, than to live without you and the rest. Better to die than to have betrayed myself.”

Nimrodel studied the ground, still holding Mithrellas’ hands. Then she turned her gaze again on Mithrellas and said: “You are here, now. And I am glad.” She drew Mithrellas into a hug and held her there. “I hear your grief,” she murmured, “and for that I sorrow. I did not mean to leave you so long and lost.”

“I left you,” Mithrellas sobbed, her voice breaking. “I failed you. To you I committed myself and then I failed you. I—you were—you were in my arms! And we were free! But it wasn’t true.”  

“It is true now,” said Nimrodel, holding Mithrellas tighter. “And were I dead I would not have you sit at my grave forevermore. Rather I would have you love the flowers and the trees that would grow there. I would not see you destroyed for my sake.”

“I would never leave you again,” said Mithrellas. “I will never.”

“Such promises may prove difficult to hold in Middle-earth,” said Nimrodel, drawing back to look into Mithrellas’ face.

“Still I swear it,” said Mithrellas fiercely through her tears. “My loyalty has been yours since first I heard you speak, my lady. And though I have ignored it these past years, I have not forgotten it.”

“Ah, Mithrellas,” said Nimrodel softly, wiping at the tears on Mithrellas’ cheeks. “Your affection sustains me. I am glad ‘tis you, among all the rest, to find me here.” Mithrellas held back more tears, for she wished to see clearly, to drink in the sight of that much-beloved and long-missed face. When Mithrellas’ cheeks were mostly dry, Nimrodel rose to her feet and offered Mithrellas a hand. “Will you wander with me again, Mithrellas? Even in my slumber I have missed my companion.”

Mithrellas shifted onto her knees and grasped Nimrodel’s hand, bowing her head over it.

“I will go anywhere my lady commands,” she said.

“Your lady offers no commands,” said Nimrodel. “But Nimrodel asks a question of you.” Mithrellas tipped her chin up to gaze up at Nimrodel.

“I will go,” she said. “I will go gladly.”

“Then rise,” said Nimrodel, and Mithrellas did so. Then Nimrodel drew her nearer with a hand at her waist, and pressed her forehead to Mithrellas’. “If you chose to go, you would go with my love,” she said.

Mithrellas trembled, but spoke with breathless surety. “Having it, I could not imagine leaving, my—.” And then suddenly, Nimrodel’s name seemed far too intimate to speak aloud, and Mithrellas blushed.

“And if you stay, will I have your love?” Nimrodel asked. Her breath was warm on Mithrellas’ chin.

“My—. You have always had my love,” Mithrellas answered.

“And yet you would not counsel me against Amroth, not once I had decided.”

“What kind of love would intervene in the happiness of its object?”

Nimrodel observed her and then said: “You are a rare kind I think, Mithrellas. Again I feel I have been unjustly fortunate in your acquaintance. May I kiss you now?”

Mithrellas’ shock was difficult to put to words, but she had barely finished nodding assent when Nimrodel’s lips pressed over hers, and then Mithrellas felt she nearly swooned. When they parted, Nimrodel’s arms were tight around her, and Nimrodel was smiling.

“I have seen now how to effectively disarm the formidable Mithrellas!” she said.

“Not so formidable,” Mithrellas answered feebly, light-headed. “Not where—not where you are concerned.”

“Will you not call me by name, Mithrellas?” Mithrellas flushed again and looked askance. Nimrodel sobered again—they had never been much given to mirth, these two, and the recent years had added none to it—but she took Mithrellas’ hand and made to lead her further on, perhaps back over the mountains, or perhaps off to some new place. “Will you abide with me at least, then?”

Mithrellas gripped Nimrodel’s hand tightly, and locked her gaze with her companion’s.

“I will, Nimrodel,” she said.

***

Of Nimrodel, it is sung that she became separated from Amroth during their journey west, and fell into a long sleep, and came no more into the histories of the Elves but for the song and the river which to this day bear her name.

Of Mithrellas, it is said only that she disappeared after the birth of her second child, and never again returned to the realms of Men, though her strain of Elvish blood lingered long in the princes of Dol Amroth.

Where they wander now, none can tell, but where they go, they go together.

Nimrodel left and Mithrellas right from this picrew

[rwprincess]

Head Over Feet (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.8k

Synopsis: What’s that sound? It’s another anachronistic Brian Johnson songfic! (Based on Alanis Morissette’s Head Over Feet) You’re one of Bender’s trash-punk friends and things change drastically when he brings the scrawny brain from detention with him to meet you all. Set up in snippets, your relationship develops with Brian, even if you weren’t really looking for a relationship.

CW: Teenage smoking (including reader), swearing, parental abuse (being being kicked out), sexism, angst and fluff

“This is Johnson,” Bender indicated the boy he brought along to your group’s spot under the bleachers.

“Brian, please.” The kid corrected. You eyed the gangly youth from top to bottom; in his sweater over a crisply-ironed collared shirt and khakis, he definitely didn’t fit in here with you all. You’d be called grungy punks at best. You didn’t think any of you even owned an iron and crisp definitely wasn’t your style. You blew out a puff of smoke, exhaling the nicotine from your lungs and shifted your gaze to Bender, wondering what he was at with this. He wasn’t the best guy, but pranking this preppy little nerd by bringing him down to your hangout? That seemed beneath him.

“You, uh, running some kinda charity here, Bender? We’re not exactly Make-A-Wish material, kid.” Scorch told the blonde dweeb and you snorted at the thought.

“Shut the fuck up,” was all Bender said in response. The rest of the twenty minutes of Brian Johnson standing there was of course, incredibly awkward and it was clear to everyone that he didn’t fit in. But that didn’t stop him from coming back a week later. And again a few days after that. And again and again until, well, that dork had grown on the lot of you. While he didn’t partake in cigarette smoking like most of you, he did take Bender up on his weed on several occasions and was actually really funny while high. He did weirdly spot-on impressions and had a sense of humor that none of your group had anticipated.

And, as much as you would vehemently deny it, you liked him when he was sober, too. He was incredibly smart and helpful and while his jokes were different without marijuana in his system, he could be amusing. That first awkward encounter was back in March, maybe April. But now you spent time with him without the convenience of school pulling you together. Now it was June and you sought to spend time with him, even without the group. Tonight, you were laying in a field not far from the high school, just the two of you. You liked to listen to him ramble on about the constellations and the myths about why they were named as they were. You remembered liking that as a kid, but you didn’t remember most of the stories. You knew you could ask him questions about the actual stars, too. Like, the science of it, and he would know. But you’d rather let him ramble and tackle one subject at a time. Even though he focused more on science and math, he was a pretty good storyteller, and right now that provided you with more of an escape than talking about the chemical composition of a star. When he finished his retelling of Ursa Minor’s story, however, he remained silent and didn’t start up a new piece of lore. After a moment, you looked at him to see what the hold up was, but you just caught his eye as his gaze was already fixed on you. Your heart started pounding in your chest because you knew what was coming.

“You know, we could go on an actual date some time.” Brian suggested, breaking the silence. You closed your eyes, almost wincing at the words. He was generally more subtle than this, but the same idea had been brought up before. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Brian. In general, you did, and in the honest depths of your soul, it was as more than a friend. But, every time it came down to this subject, you panicked. You had never been serious with anyone and the thought of dating was completely foreign to you. You had messed around with some guys before but you never had feelings for them. You didn’t know how to depend on another person, to have an actual relationship with them.

I had no choice but to hear you

You stated your case time and again

I thought about it

You sighed, your eyes still closed. You didn’t know what to tell him. Before, he always left it as more of a hint and it was easier to dodge. Now he was just coming out and saying it. Basically asking you out, so you would actually have to turn him down this time. The terrible thing was, you didn’t really want to. The conscious side of you wanted to agree and go out with him, on a proper date. But your subconscious kicked you into fight or flight mode and if you weren’t in the middle of a field, you might have picked flight and walked away. But that didn’t seem to be an option.

“Look, Johnson. It’s not that easy. Just...don’t waste your time on me.”

“I’m already wasting my time on you.” He pointed out, but when you took a peek at him, he didn’t seem upset about it. He was actually grinning about it. “We’re already wasting our time out here. Or at the library, or under the bleachers… So why not like, a movie theater or dinner, or my house?”

“Oh yeah, your mom would love having me around.” You joked, humorlessly. The smattering of times you had met Brian’s mother hadn’t gone swimmingly. You could read the derision in her voice and knew she did not approve of her good little baby hanging out with a ne’er-do-well like you.

“She’d come around. You’re different once someone actually gets to know you.” He meant it as a compliment, but you took it as your out.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You leapt up, indignantly and he just gaped at you like a fish out of water.

“I didn’t mean anything bad by it, I swear!” He put his hands up defensively as you looked down at him. “Forget it, I’m sorry.” You had victory, he dropped the subject and your friendship could last another night and you could try to pretend like he wasn’t right, that you two weren’t meant to be something more.

*~~~~*

You treat me like I'm a princess

I'm not used to liking that

You ask how my day was

For the most part, working at Bert’s auto shop felt worthwhile and valuable. Other days, it chewed you up and spit you out. It was hard being in such a masculine environment and not fitting into that type. Customers (mostly men, but even the women too) thought that you were less knowledgeable and handy than your cohorts. Bender’s teasing didn’t help that image, either.

Now you slid into the booth at Gino’s pizzeria utterly deflated and defeated. Of course, Brian took notice right away. “Rough day?” He inquired, pushing a menu towards you even though he knew you ordered the same thing every time.

“That’s not even the half of it. Why does Bender hafta be such a dick all the time?!” You asked, incredulously but sincerely, diving right into your problem.

“I don’t know. I think he thinks it’s part of his charm? Maybe it is. I mean, we’re still friends with him.” You nodded at his point, but clenched your fists just the same.

“I just wish he knew when to back off sometimes. Like, he never realizes he’s taking it too far and digging you further into a shithole.”

“What did he do this time?” Brian’s gaze on you was unbroken; it made you feel important, like your opinion, your story, was the only thing that mattered.

“So we got this old guy in the shop today. Beautiful car, so of course he was hesitant with me touching it.” You began and his eyebrows furrowed, already not liking the direction this was going. “And I’m trying to prove myself worthy to work on this car, even though I would just be doing an oil change, which isn’t like a big deal anyway, right? Simple stuff.” You looked to him to get acknowledgement to move forward.

“I mean, I guess. I don’t really know about oil changes or anything about cars. But I know you do.”

“Right, so Bender has to go and make a crack to the old guy about how they won’t let me near it and I’m just the secretary for the shop or whatever. Just a total dick move. But of course the guy believed him and laughed with him and sent me to go get him a cup of coffee? I mean, what the hell is that?”

“That’s not right. And you wear a mechanic’s uniform at work, why would he think--?”

“Because macho man Bender told him I was! He was more believable than me.” You sank back and put a hand up to brace your forehead as the waitress approached the table. You prepared to order your drink when she set down exactly what you would have ordered in front of you and walked away, promising to come back in a few minutes. You blinked at the cup as if it magically had appeared.

“I uh, figured you’d get the usual and you’d need it when you got here, so I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” Brian said and then looked away, suddenly embarrassed by the idea. Since he wasn’t looking at you anyway, you allowed your lips to twitch up into a smile threatening to break out on your face...but only for a moment.

“Yeah, whatever. So anyway, Bender…” you carried on, pretending nothing happened, but secretly cataloguing his gesture in your memory.

*~~~~*

The only thing worse than arguing with Brian or him pissing you off was him making you laugh. There were times that you would go home with sore sides and itchy eyes from the tears that formed while laughing so hard. Then you would always, always reflect on the hours you just spent together, feeling the warmth and butterflies tickle your insides and a nervous heat would prickle your skin as you thought about how happy Brian made you. He never pushed you to do anything; he liked you the way you were. Sure, he would drop hints here and there about how you should stop smoking or give you advice when you had a particularly bad argument with one of your friends, but overall, he just accepted you. And you knew how hard that was to find.

You had never been popular and when junior high rolled around, you accepted that you never would be. You found your own little group of outcasts who understood what it was like to be kicked down time and again, and now he had somehow joined that group too. You knew he understood how it felt. Even though he looked different and came from a very different social circle, he had been looked down upon by his peers all his life. You were guilty of judging him the same way when you first met him, but now you couldn’t imagine life without him. He was cut of the same cloth and you could see yourself in him, which is why you just clicked. And he was so kind and so patient with you. You tried to push him away dozens of times, to put up the barriers and the walls that worked so well for everyone that came before him; you couldn’t be hurt if you never got attached. Where most people gave up and only saw the cold, distant bitch you gave them, Brian always saw something more. He didn’t give up in breaking down those walls, and even accepted just being your friend. That made you love him even more.

Shit, wait. Did you just think about loving Brian? A crush is one thing. Having a buddy to fool around with is one thing. Being in love was quite another.

You've already won me over in spite of me

Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

*~~~~*

Mercedes Johnson was all about keeping up appearances, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hear her arguing with Brian on the other side of the door, about you. Again. You had known from the second you met her that she didn’t like you. She was instantly worried about the influence you’d have on her son; it was a common reaction from parents based on the way you looked and the company you kept. You would think you’d be used to it by now.

However, it truthfully bothered you more because this was Brian’s mother. You were hoping that she would be different and see the person underneath like her son had, or at the very least, that she would eventually warm up to you. You had no luck with either.

“I’m not comfortable with having her over at the house right now.” You could hear her tell Brian.

“She’s my friend, ma. Of course she’s going to come over--”

“I’m aware of that but you know I wish she weren’t. I would prefer that you keep the company of other friends.” The formality of her sentences while she was still cruelly putting you both down made you cringe.

“You don’t know her because you won’t give her a chance. She’s not that different from my other friends.”

“You have friends in the Physics Club, from Knowledge Bowl, Honor Students. You don’t need the association with a hoodlum like that or John Bender and I don’t know why you keep insisting on bringing them into my home when I have repeatedly told you no. I don’t want them around your sister, or even you!”

“Fine. Then we’ll leave.” You heard the door swing open harshly and Brian was motioning for you to follow him out of the house.

“Brian Ralph Johnson!” You heard his mother cry after the two of you. Brian held open the front door for you and you looked at him cautiously before rushing out. You knew you weren’t wanted there, but you were worried that he wouldn’t come with you. You were even more worried that he would. “You are not leaving this house.” Mercedes put on the most intimidating tone you had witnessed her use.

“No, I am. We are. I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t bother coming back tonight if you walk out of this house!” She was now pink-faced and losing all of the reserved, polished look you had seen her have. She had never been so...uncomposed.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Brian said and grabbed you by the elbow as he escorted you down the driveway to your car. He immediately got into the passenger seat and as you sunk behind the steering wheel, you glanced at him.

“Brian, this is stupid. You don’t have to---you shouldn’t do this.” The whole situation reminded you of the many times you had been kicked out of your house. This was just another home you weren’t welcome in.

He clenched his jaw in response. “Let’s just go. I’ll figure it out later. Please, just drive.”

Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole

You're so much braver than I gave you credit for

That's not lip service

“Your mom gave you a choice, you know. It’s not like she told you to get out. She actually told you not to leave.” You said as you both sat on the trunk of your car, looking out across the field that was slowly turning to a golden hue, both from the afternoon sun and the change into autumn. Neither of your houses were really an option to go to, so you just chose the empty field that you would look at stars in during the summer.

“It’s not like it was really a choice though, was it? I’m tired of her trying to control every part of my life. I need to start thinking for myself, doing things for myself. She needs to understand that I’m going to do what I want, and like who I want to like.” He looked at you meaningfully for a moment, but you looked away quickly. It was too heavy for you to process right now.

“That’s a big step. I’m really impressed with you for standing up for yourself.” You told him, and he gave you an appreciative, heart-stopping smile in return that caused your cheeks to flush. Your parents had shouted at you to leave so many times before, any time you were ‘inconvenient’ for them, that it was hard to relate to someone who chose not to stay. But you wanted to support him and you did feel proud of him today. You thought back to the most recent event in which you had been dismissed from your family, and how you had tried to take it out on Brian:

You slammed your locker and watched him almost jump out of his skin. “I don’t want to talk about this.” You growled at Brian.

“I understand that, but you need to. You can’t just--”

“Just what?”

“You can’t just act like nothing happened or run away from it...run away from here.” You had been disciplined at school yet again and your parents had had enough. You had a big fight with them the night prior and did not sleep in your own bed. The tiredness racked your body today and you were stiff from sleeping in your car. If it weren’t for the social aspect, you wouldn’t have bothered coming to school. But you quickly realized you weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone, and you were only making the situation worse.

“Like hell I can’t.” You stated, quickly turning to walk away.

“Y/N, don’t. Come on, talk to me. Tell me what happened. We can figure it out together.”

“There’s nothing to figure out, bucko. I’ll be fine. I’ll do this on my own. I’m used to that anyway.”

“But you don’t have to be alone, Y/N. That’s what I’m saying! That’s my whole point: I’m here for you!”

“I didn’t ask you to be, Brian.”

“No, because friends don’t have to ask.” His words scared you. Nobody had so adamantly offered to be a safety net to you before.

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “we’re great friends. We’ve bonded so much in the, what, four months you’ve known me?” You rolled your eyes, trying to make him feel uncomfortable, to drive a wedge between you. You only knew how to put up walls, how to run.

“You know we are.”

“Yeah, sure, right. Friends. Not like you want to sleep with me or anything.” You tried to drive another knife into him, to play it off like he was following you only because he had a crush on you, one you tried to pretend wasn’t reciprocated. “It’s not going to happen, Brian. So just accept that we’re not friends.”

He let you get about three steps away before you heard him say, “No. I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. Sure, part of me wants something more, but...I care about you, Y/N. And if we can just be friends, I am happy with that, I swear. But don’t do this to me. Don’t try to shut me out or walk away or act like you’re fine. I know you well enough to know you’re not.” When you turned around, you could see that he had tears rimming his eyes, threatening to fall, which made your own tears spring up as well. “I am your friend. I’m not going to just let you go and do something stupid. You are going to talk about this. If not to me, then someone else. But you can’t just run away or sleep in your car or, or…”

“Okay.” You said, softly.

“Okay?”

“Fine, let’s talk about it. I screwed up again and my parents kicked me out. So what do I do?”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I...we’ll think of something.” He began to tell you, but you bit your lip and drowned him out in your own sobs. Everything crashed in on you at once; you hadn’t escaped in time. You slid down your locker wall and sat on the floor. Brian joined you and put his arm around you tentatively.

You are the bearer of unconditional things

You held your breath and the door for me

Thanks for your patience

After that day, you knew he wouldn’t let you go. You tried your best to brush him off, to hurt him, to land irreparable blows. But it was all in vain; he stuck by you. You admired how he stood up for you, for your relationship, whatever that meant. He didn’t back down, even though you knew he genuinely cared what you thought. He was willing to put everything on the line just to be with you, in whatever capacity you would allot him. And today, he had chosen you again. He had picked a fight with his mother and chosen you. He placed you above being safe and comfortable and at home right now.

“I’m sorry, this must seem so stupid to be complaining about. I know I don’t have it that bad, it’s just that--”

“No, your problems are valid, too. Your mom sucks.” You told him and he laughed, “But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t...weird to have someone be given the choice to stay instead of being yelled at to get out and that you’re worthless and---I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this about me.” You said softly, looking down at your hands.

“No, I get it. It’s gotta be on your mind a lot, the uncertainty. Plus, I don’t mind talking about you.” He nudged your shoulder with his own, trying to be playful but you knew he meant that. He always put you first. You couldn’t help your next impulse as your hand shot up to cup his face and you leaned in and kissed him roughly. You weren’t entirely sure why you had done it. It would probably change everything and you couldn’t tell if you were doing it selfishly to feel like someone cared or to keep him around or because you truly wanted to. Of course, he kissed you back, and the feeling it gave you pushed a lot of those doubts from your mind.

You're the best listener that I've ever met

You're my best friend

Best friend with benefits

What took me so long?

*~~~~*

The kiss in the field still didn’t mean you were “together.” Realistically, it complicated things for a while. You avoided Brian for a couple of days and didn’t discuss it when you finally caved in to your desire to see him. He didn’t bring it up either, even though there were many times he would look at your lips like he wanted to make a move again, but you never talked about it. Things began to look “normal” after about two weeks. You spent time at the record shop, or under the bleachers with your friends or in the library with his friends. He nagged you about giving up smoking and you finally listened, much to his surprise.

“What made you finally decide to quit?” He asked, looking at the nicotine patch on your arm. You shrugged, not wanting to tell him the truth.

“I guess I just finally got tired of you being a broken record, mother hen.” You teased him, but he just smiled because he was happy with your choice. The truth of the matter was, you had done it for him. While you weren’t with him, you wanted to be. You didn’t want to keep doing something that bothered him so much, but you also knew that eventually, your habit of smoking would cost time with him and you didn’t want that. You lied to yourself that you didn’t want a relationship and weren’t thinking about a future with Brian, but you were. Every time he helped you study or encouraged you to do your best, the time your parents were out of town so he had made you his “specialty” of spaghetti in your kitchen, when you drove him around singing songs together on the radio...you thought about doing those things with him forever and instead of the fear you used to feel at such a thought, you felt happiness. You anticipated a future with him, something to look forward to.

I've never felt this healthy before

I've never wanted something rational

I am aware now

I am aware now

*~~~~*

“It’s kind of weird, yeah. But they’re cute together, I guess.” You had just returned from a movie with Bender and Claire. You were surprised at how long their relationship had lasted, especially since you had hated Claire at first. You assumed she was dating Bender as a statement, but it had been over six months and they were still together and it just seemed to work.

“It must be nice to have someone like that. Even if they don’t make sense, they care about each other. It just must be a nice thing to have a relationship like that.” Brian looked at you for a moment before backpedaling, realizing he must have made it sound like he was guilt-tripping you. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you out again. I really just was complimenting them--”

“Well, maybe you should.” You cut him off.

You realized how rare a find like Brian truly was. He always put you before himself; he listened to all of your problems and knew when to offer solutions and when to just listen. He was endlessly supportive, and kind. He kept taking giant risks just to be with you, to show you that you mattered to him. You knew, without him saying it, that he loved you. Why else would someone go to the lengths he did, just to make you happy? You had tried everything to shake him, to get rid of him so neither one of you would be in too deep to get hurt. But he stayed, and now, you wouldn’t want him to go anyway. It was too late; you were both already in too deep.

He just blinked at you, sure he had heard incorrectly. “Wh-what?”

“I said, maybe you should. Ask me out again.”

“Y/N, do you want to go out with me?” He asked, unsure. It felt like a setup, but he knew you wouldn’t do something so cruel to him.

“Yes.” You replied, softly.

“Why?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“I don’t know. I guess you won me over.” You chuckled, but he failed to see the humor in it, so you changed to a more serious tone. “Brian, I thought that these feelings would go away, that you would go away. Lord knows how hard I’ve tried to push you. But...you didn’t and the feelings didn’t. I-I love you. And I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep loving you, I don’t want to waste my time with anyone else. And...And I think that you love me.”

“I do.” He breathed quietly, with zero hesitation.

“So, why fight it any more? I was afraid that I would hurt you, but I think I’ve already done that and you’ve stuck around.” He nodded in confirmation of that fact. “And I was scared that I would get hurt but...but I’ve realized that you won’t do that to me, either.”

You've already won me over in spite of me

Don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet

And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault

He took your hands in his, “You’re serious? You really want this? Because, you know how I feel. How I’ve always felt.” You nodded in response, tears quickly filling your eyes, which was a rarity for you. He leaned in towards you to kiss you, for the first time since your conversation in the field over a month ago. He waited for you to be ready in every aspect of your relationship and you had never known so much love and respect before. It took some adjusting to, but he had pulled you in and made you fall for him again and again.

Just gonna tag my buddy...

@90sinequity

[dreamescapeswriting]

On The Run ~ MYG [Request]

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

PAIRING: Bodyguard!Yoongi x Reader

GENRE: Bodyguard!Au, fluffy, enemies to lovers, Yoongi has a soft spot for reader, Reader has a soft spot for Yoongi, 

WARNINGS: Mentions of dead bodies, blood, mafia, underworld dealings,

A/N: Yes I am simping over Tatsu from the anime “The way of The house husband” so I used his name 😭😭 I feel like this is a little fast-paced so I’m sorry x I hope you like it though my love

Running away. That was your life now. There was no staying in one place, no settling down in some small village. Just running. Don't let people know who you are and never let anyone know your name. All of the joys of being on the run. But this was better than the life you had. At least this was a life. This was better than the way you were living before and you were never going to look back on it. 

"Hey! Come back here!" A voice shrieked as you sprinted in the direction of the motel you were staying in. Panicked that they were going to catch up to you as you carried the backpack full of food with you. Run. Don't look back. Don't speak. Don't stop. Don't ever second guess a thing. Only move at night. Don't go out in the day. Just Run.

Tatsu Susaki one of the most feared men in the whole of South Korea. Everyone knew his name and face, even if they barely turned on the news or read a newspaper they knew him. Tatsu had moved from Japan to take over the South Korean underground, bored of whatever life he had back in Japan. 

The man everyone called the immortal dragon, everyone feared him even if he was just walking down the street. People would stop what they were doing to pay their respects to him with money or gifts. The scariest man in the country and the one you were in a relationship with. Though it didn't feel like a relationship to you. 

To you, it felt as though you were trapped with him rather than his girlfriend. Held hostage in his huge mansion of a home because you had fallen for a stupid pickup line not too long ago. If you had known it would have lead to this kind of life you never would have taken him up on his offer of a date.

"Where are you going?" A voice called out as you attempted to walk out of the back door. Sighing to yourself you had almost forgotten that Yoongi was in the house. Yoongi was your personal torture device. 

In other words, he was your bodyguard. 

The one you were adamant that you didn't need but Tatsu insisted upon giving to you. On the rare occasion that you were allowed out of the house, Yoongi would go with you. Everywhere. Shopping with friends, Yoongi would be there. Going to dinner with family, Yoongi would be there. Not that you were ever out with friends and family anymore.

It was as though Yoonig was attached to you at the hip. 

"To the back garden, are we going to have a problem with that?" You asked snarkily as you turned to look at him. Neither of you got along with one another. Yoongi didn't want to be there any more than you did.

He'd joined Tatsu's family with the intention of getting into the business. Not being someone's personal babysitter.

It was a Sunday which meant Tatsu was out of the house doing lord knows what and you could do whatever you wanted...Within reason. 

The man ordered you around like you were his daughter rather than his girlfriend. You didn't have a life outside of Tatsu's world anymore. He'd cut you off from everyone you had loved.

Friends no longer wanted to be around someone who would associate themselves with someone from the underworld. Your family were cut off from you because they disapproved or disrespected Tatsu in some kind of way. It was cut off or be killed and you made the decision to keep your family alive and well.

"You know you have to tell me everywhere you go," Yoongi told you as he watched you standing by the door. Hand clutching onto the handle as if it was your life support.

"Even when I have to go the bathroom? Or what about when I have to leave the house because my boyfriend is cheating on me?" 

Yoongi looked at you sadly. It was no secret that Tatsu would cheat on you almost all of the time, he could do whatever he wanted meanwhile you were barely allowed to speak to anyone outside of his social circle. If you went out to parties together you were to sit there and look pretty. 

His exact orders. He would give you an expensive dress and accessories before making you sit on a chair all night without speaking to another soul. 

"You have to tell me everything and where you at all times." Yoongi stepped into the kitchen to be near you in case you made a sprint for the exit. Not that there was a way out of the back garden. If you had somehow managed to jump the 10-foot brick wall there were dogs around the property. 

"Oh, so I'm like your little puppy. You get to take me on walks and feed me." You faked a giant smile on your face but Yoongi wasn't impressed.

"Y/n there's no need for this, we've been through this a million times before." It felt like billions to you. All you wanted to do was get out of this relationship but Tatsu had made it clear there was only one way out and that was in a wooden box in the ground. 

"I'll keep going through it until you leave me alone." You grumbled, hand dropping from the handle once you realised he was going to follow you out there. All you wanted to do was go gardening for a little while. 

"I can't. I'm paid to look after you." Rolling your eyes you stared at him,

"I'll pay you more"

"We both know you can't." He counted but you just opened the door not stepping out as you turned to Yoongi.

"I'm going to the garden." You grumbled as you walked out of the back door and down towards the greenhouse. Yoongi's eyes widened once he realised you were going toward the greenhouse. The one place he had been ordered to keep you out of. 

"Y/n! wait! The boss said not-" He couldn't finish his sentence as you pushed the door to the greenhouse open. Letting out a scream of terror as you saw the blood pooling on the ground coming from a body. 

"Is he fucking joking?!" You screamed instantly turning to hide your face in Yoongi's chest as he pulled you out of the greenhouse. His arms wrapping around you as he tried to comfort you, broken sobs leaving your mouth.

Fear crippling as you pictured the dead body lying there on the floor. The greenhouse was your one safe space, the one place you could go without it being ruined by Tatsu's world but that was now gone.  

"I was under strict rules not to let you in there." Images of the body flashed into your head over and over again as you pushed Yoongi away from you

"I want to go out." You snapped, needing to do something to get the image of the swollen body from your mind. There was nothing that would ever make you forget the stench of decay or the colour that splattered the floor. 

"You're not allowed today," Yoongi spoke as he began following you back into the house.

"Why?" It was a dumb question to which you already knew the answer.

"Because-"

"He said so." You mumbled in unison as you looked to Yoongi a part of you hoped that one-day Yoongi would feel so bad for you he'd let you go.

The only reason you hadn't run away was that Tatsu threatened everyone you loved and told you that he could find you no matter where you were. 

"He has left orders for you though,"

"Of course he has," You uttered as you walked towards the grand staircase in the foyer. 

"He has left a dress in the guest room, someone will be round to do your hair and makeup," Yoongi told you as you continued to walk up the stairs in silence. 

"I'm going to take a bath." You told him as you reached the top of the stairs, turning to face him as he looked up at you. 

"Shall I let you know when the stylists have arrived?" You hummed before walking towards your room. It wasn't as though you shared a bedroom with Tatsu, you were just there to look good for him. The two of you hardly spoke a word to one another since the first date. Unless it was him telling you off or speaking about you right in front of you.

Another night another boring party. Sitting in the booth watching as your "boyfriend" dance with other girls, kissed them and bought them drinks. The way in you had been photographed together, his hand practically cutting off your circulation when you had tried to avoid being seen by the cameras. 

"Y/n," You glanced at Yoongi who sat down in front of you. Raising an eyebrow at him you wondered why he had come over to you.

"We could play a game?"

"A game?" You questioned a little apprehensive that he was suddenly trying to be nice to you right now. 

"Sure, to stop you from being so bored." He seemed to be genuinely trying to make this a better experience for you but it wasn't going to work. 

"What do you propose we do?" You looked at him before looking around the room. It wasn't as if you were allowed to get up and dance. What did he expect you to do? Sit and count how many people your boyfriend made out with. 

"Eyespy."

"Eyespy what am I, 10?" You questioned him.

"Just, come on." You rolled your eyes before looking around you to see what Yoongi was going to pick for his first go.

"Eyespy something beginning with S." Eyes darted around the room until you saw the giant ice sculpture in the centre of the room. 

"Snake." You mumbled as you answered Yoongi, he nodded and waiting for you to go next. Moving to sit beside Yoongi you smiled, nudging into him a little. 

"Eye spy with my little eye, something beginning with C.," You said to him as you looked at Tatsu. 

It continued on until you found yourself actually having fun with Yoongi. Forgetting for a moment that you were being forced to be at the party. 

Giggling a little when you told Yoongi you had found something he was sure you'd never find you looked at him instead of where Tatsu was around the room. 

"What are you doing?" Yoongi stood up straight and stared ahead at the crowd as Tatsu spoke with you. 

"I was just having fun." You whispered as you looked at him. Swallowing the lump in your throat as you saw his eye twitch, something he did when he was mad. 

"You're not here to have fun. You're here to sit there and look good!" He snapped making you flinch as you looked up at him, you never wanted to get on the wrong side of something with Tatsu so you nodded.

"I want you to sit here, alone." He left taking Yoongi with him as he ordered him to stand with the other guards on the other side of the room. 

Hours passed by and Tatsu was still speaking with different girls on the dance floor. Letting their bodies brush against his own while you watched from the distance. 

Yoongi had been moved to the other side of the room to stop you from talking to him. His eyes still trained to you as you watched Tatsu cheat on you for the ninth time that week. It was like he wanted you to watch as he cheated on you. Yet another powerplay of his. 

Was it even a relationship when he was forcing you to be there? You were a captive. 

Tatsu's eyes shut as he began to kiss down the woman's neck. It was your chance to break away without him noticing at first glance. Too busy with another woman's lips on his. You knew the bathroom had a window large enough to crawl through and you had a way out of the parking lot of the hotel you were in. 

Standing up from the booth you began to make your way through the crowd of people. Pushing yourself past people who were grinding against one another drunkenly. Yoongi frowned when the crowds parted and he could no longer see you sitting where he had left you. 

Glancing over your shoulder you made sure Tatsu was still busy before you crashed into the bathroom there was no lock so you had to make quick work of everything. 

Kicking off the heels you were wearing before opening the window, glancing out at it. The bathroom was one floor up from the small alleyway below you. The height wasn't enough to hurt yourself and the window opened just enough for you to get through so you began pushing yourself through the gap. 

Whimpering when you hit the pavement one floor below you. Digging through the front of your dress to grab the keys you had swiped from Yoongi. 

Yoongi panicked as he saw you weren't in the room anymore, his eyes darted towards the exit. There was no way you had gone out of there since there were three guards there the whole time. 

"What's going on?" Someone asked into the speaker in his ear. 

"Yoongi left his post." Another said. 

"Accompanying Y/n to the bathroom." He hissed as he walked towards the bathroom door, knocking on it and waiting for you to shout at him for following you but you didn't. There was no sound from inside of the room. That made him freak even more. Normally you would scream some kind of verbal abuse at him for following you to the bathroom.

"Y/n?" He called out moving into the room only to find your shoes on the ground. Bending down he picked them up and looked at the window.

"Shit." He walked back out calmly making sure no one was watching him as he headed for the exit. You probably went for air. You had to have gone for air. if you were gone he'd bed dead.

Roaring to life the motorbike engine you smiled as you finally saw your way out. Yoongi's motorcycle. You mentally thanked him for playing eye spy with you earlier in the night. It was the only way you could have ever gotten the keys to his bike. 

"Y/n." Your head span to look at Yoongi who was staring at you from the alleyway.  

"Don't," He warned as you put your leg over the seat and began to rev the engine. There was no going back. You were going. No one was going to stop you. 

Taking in a deep breath you began to ride down the road, Yoongi racing after you as he watched you closely, weaving in and out of cars that were in your way. You weren't speeding just going a little over the limit when you saw a car that belonged to one of Tatsu's men coming your way.

"Fuck!" You screamed halting to a stop and racing to get down one of the small alleys without being seen but a man crossed the road making you scream. Your hand pressed frantically on the break causing you and the bike to skid into the alleyway.

Yoongi raced to you, praying that neither the driver nor passenger in Tatsu's car had seen that it was you on the bike. Did he think you weren't going to get seen? You were wearing a designer lace dress wearing one of the most expensive necklaces in the entire world. 

"Y/n." He hissed pulling you to hide in the alley as he looked at you. Your leg had a cut on your calf but it didn't look as though it was going to cause you any kind of distress. 

"Leave me alone." You begged him as you began to cry heavily, the thought of going back to Tatsu killing you inside. There wasn't anything that could make you go back into that building. You were through being the girl who was there to make him look good. 

"Leave me alone, I need to get away." You begged with him to leave you, hitting his chest as he continued holding you tightly in his arms.

"Tell him I escaped. Tell him I died. Let me go." You pleaded with him. Each plea breaking Yoongi more and more as he listened to the desperation in your voice. 

"Y/n I can't." He told you as he rocked you a little in his arms, doing his best to ignore the aching inside of him to take you away from everything. 

"Give me some time to get away." Turning to look up at him he stared at you as he saw the pain in your eyes. That was the sign he needed to get you out of there. 

"Go home. Pack light." He whispered as he stood you up, looking at your leg as he checked it out. Nothing bad that warranted a trip to a doctor. Nothing that can't be fixed by him when he gets you somewhere safe.

"What?" You sniffled as you looked at him, wondering what he was talking about. 

"For once Y/n, please just do as you're told." You nodded at him as he pressed the earpiece on his ear.

"I'm taking Y/n home, she's sick." He spoke out to the other guards, you knew that Tatsu would either stay in the hotel with the girl he was with or find somewhere so you didn't have to worry about that. Yoongi looked at you before walking with you towards his bike. Standing it up once again, giving you a helmet from the seat hatch. 

"Put this on and hold onto my waist." He whispered to you as he sat on the seat.

"Where are we going?" You panicked as you watched Yoongi shoving your clothes into a backpack that you had given to him. He'd changed into black jeans and a hoodie from his room in the house. Throwing some of his own clothes in the bag with yours. 

"Change." He ordered as he looked at you, you were still standing there in the dress. Reaching to you he unclasped the necklace and laid it out onto the dressing table. Maybe if Tatsu saw that you had nothing of his he would let you get off easy. At least that was what Yoongi was hoping would happen. 

"Bring something he wouldn't expect you to wear." He ordered again as you grabbed some ripped blue jeans, a black top with a blue jean jacket. Taking the clothes from your hands he pushed them into the bag.

"Change into something he would expect. Hurry." You could hear the panic in his voice as you rushed to the bathroom changing just as quickly as he had told you to. 

Yoongi had all of the cash he had available to him. Around ₩1250000 he'd saved up and stashed in his room away from Tatsu.

"What are you going to do?" You questioned as he began pulling you down the stairs. This was the most panicked you'd ever seen Yoongi become and you had no question to rationalise what was happening and what he had planned for you both. 

Yoongi said nothing as he began pulling you out of the front door and looking around. Guards were changing at the shifts. It gave you ten minutes to get out without being seen. 

"Get on. Hold on." He ordered as he revved the engine of his bike. You sat behind him, hands clutching around his waist as he began to ride down the road. Helmets masking who you were for a little while but he knew it wasn't going to be enough. Yoongi was already one step ahead of everything that was going in his mind. He had a plan, he had no idea if it was going to work but he was going to try.

Just as you got outside of Seoul he stopped in a random parking bay on an empty road.  

"What are we doing?!" You panicked looking at him as he began handing you clothes. The clothes he'd told you to bring that Tatsu wouldn't expect you to wear.

"Change. It's the middle of the night, no one is going to see." He mumbled as he bent down beside his boke and began to take off the plate. 

"That illegal." You sniffled not realising that you were crying until you let out a small cry. Yoongi stared at you,

"Do you want to get away or not!?" He snapped harshly at you, not wanting to be rude but needing to get on the move as quickly as you both could. You nodded changing as he switched the plates around. 

The two of you needed to get out of Seoul as quickly as humanly possible, it was only going to get you some time to be away from Tatsu. Before he and his men noticed you weren't at home.

"Yoongi?" You whispered as you watched him standing back up, he'd changed into a leather jacket and some jeans. Both of you in new clothes and new plates on the bike and yet he still hadn't told you what the plan was. 

"We're heading back into the town. We need to get seen by cameras, this way it'll look like we went towards Busan on my bike but this is a new bike, new plates. He won't think to check it yet." He explained as he got onto the bike, your arms wrapped around his waist. You were trusting someone you previously hated and gave shit to. 

"Where are we really going?" You asked him before he started the engine. It wasn't as if you could talk while it was running.

"Damyang."

"Whats in Damyang?" You questioned.

"My parents. I can get us more money, I can get supplies and from there we're on the run." Everything felt as though it was moving at 100mph.

"We?" 

"You think he won't kill me for letting you go. Yes, we." He looked at you over his shoulder to see if that was okay and you nodded.

"We." You agreed as he started the engine. Driving out back into town as you kept your head resting on his back. Praying that this was going to work somehow. That Tatsu was going to leave you alone or at least have no idea where you were.

The middle of nowhere was where you had landed together the next day. Broad daylight and Yoongi decided to stop in some dingy motel. 

"We can stay here for now." He explained as he came out of a small office holding a key to a room. 

"Motel room for the night," You laughed as you looked at it. There had to be some kind of trap to this,

"Do you think I'm stupid?! You're going to tell him where to find us." You screamed out in a panic but he yanked you into the room and shook his head. Covering your mouth with his hand so that you didn't draw unwanted attention to one another. Daylight was going to be the worst time for you both. It was easy for you to be spotted, at least if you slept through the days and moved only at night it would be easier.

"No. The bike is hidden. We have to draw the curtains." He mumbled as he began shutting everything up. Blocking the door with one of the chairs that were in the room, adding a table so that you would hear if someone tried the door handle. 

The two of you alone in a room with one bed, it was like something out o a cheesy romance novel.

"How long we will be like this?" You questioned as you sank down onto the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Forever probably...You know what he's like." He whispered as he sat down on the floor at the end of the bed with you. You looked at him. For the first time since the night before you realised how badly this was all going to affect his life and not just yours anymore.

"I'm sorry. I-I never should have made you do this-"

"Made me? Y/n I did this because I could see how much pain you were in. How badly you needed out of there...It wasn't right for him to do this." You looked at him sitting closer to him as you nodded. Seeing him in a whole new light because he showed you a simple act of kindness. 

"I promise he'll never hurt you or come near you...We can run forever." You smiled weakly before leaning forward and kissing him softly. 

"Thank you." You breathed out, leaning your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes and for the first time in ever sleeping peacefully through the day. 

Yoongi came around with the bike and looked at you as you stood out in the middle of the pathway. Middle of the night and you were just standing there, taking in the air and the scenery around you. 

"What are you doing?" He questioned watching you standing there. Arms spread as you took in deep breaths as if it was the last time you were ever going to do this but it was the opposite reason. It was the first time you were allowed to be out in the open like this. No guards, no rules, no restrictions. 

"We're free...I-I don't have to be ordered around." You whispered as you looked at him, he was smiling the most you'd ever seen him smile ever. It was one of the cutest smiles you'd ever seen, such a cute gummy bear smile. 

"I can be me...I don't have to listen to someone telling me to sit and be quiet." You breathed out tears rushing down your cheeks as you realised just how free you were now. Yoongi wiped your face with his thumb and smiled, kissing your lips softly. You smiled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck until he pulled back from you.

"Get on." He whispered as he got onto the bike first and steadied himself.

He drove off. Your arms in the air as you let the wind rush over you both enjoying the newfound freedom that you had. 

"Drive," You laughed to Yoongi as you climbed into the backseat of the truck that Yoongi was waiting inside of. A year on the run and you were still going. Motel rooms in the day, driving in the night. With the two of you awake in the night, it was as though you were the only ones in the world. Just the two of you against the world.

"Did you get seen?" He asked a little panicked when he saw a man rushing after the car. You climbed through to the front seat and shook your head.

"No, he was asking for my number so I bolted," Yoongi smirked as he ran his hand up your thigh giving it a small squeeze.

"That's my girl." He chuckled as he began heading towards the motorway, the next stop on your list was Geoje. You were going to keep driving until you found a motel or until daytime came around. Whichever came by first.

"I told you to pay for the gas and get out," Yoongi laughed as you looked out behind you. The man was waving you back as you shook your head at Yoongi. 

"Not my fault I'm irresistible." You joked as he quickly turned to you, kissing you softly before he looked back at the road. 

"That you are." He breathed out as he continued driving. The bike had been traded for the old beat-up truck Yoongi had gotten from an elderly man in Daegu when you were there. Another way to lose any traces of you if Tatsu had any of them. The truth was neither of you knew if anyone was watching you or following you but it was fun being on the run. Just the two of you in the whole world. Moving at night so it felt like you were alone and had the world to yourselves. Your days in the motel rooms were spent playing board games, card games, watching tv or just spending one on one time with one another. The two of you had developed a growing relationship with one another. There was no one else you wanted other than Yoongi. 

"Hey," You whispered as you pulled up to a red light. He glanced at you and you took his chin into your finger and thumb. Kissing him sweetly before pulling away when the light was green. 

"Drive," You giggled looking out of the window at everything that was passing you. Everything looked so much prettier at night. You didn't know or want to know what life had in store for you, all you cared about was having Yoongi with you throughout it all. The two of you against the world. 

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @rjsmochii​ @taestannie​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @taeechwitaa​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​ @min-yus​ 

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls. 

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods. 

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires. 

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past. 

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him. 

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places. 

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease. 

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone. 

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely. 

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-" 

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue. 

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you. 

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?" 

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium. 

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back. 

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..." 

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. 

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy. 

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

[starlight-loki]

The Thin Line Between Life and Death (Loki x Mystic!Reader) -- PART 1

Or, That Time You and Loki Saved the World

Request: is it alright if you do a loki x reader fic where reader's got powers like strange and wields one of the infinity stones and almost dies trying to save everyone? -- requested by anon

Warnings: this is darker than other fics i've written so far: descriptions of nausea, mentions of anxiety, and major character deaths (but not Loki, I promise).

Word Count: 4.8k (hooo weeee man, if I didn't split this into 2 parts it would've been like... over 10k omg)

A/N: For context, please read this headcanon first if you'd like to know a bit more about the reader and Loki's relationship as well as to sort of set the scene for this fic -- otherwise, if you're cool with jumping right in, enjoy! This was so much fun to write :)

Also this doesn't follow the events of Infinity War/Endgame at all; this is sort of... my take on it, I guess you could say?

Everything started going downhill when you began getting visions.

They weren't anything concerning at first, in fact they were almost cryptic, really: manifesting themselves in your dreams in subtle -- almost metaphoric -- ways. First it was simply the colour orange, which then progressed to flashes of amber light at random occasions during the events of your dreams, then it became fire. For a while, fire consumed your dreams nearly every night, burning through cities, forests, and even planets.

The Ancient One had told you from the start that dreams carried messages from your subconscious. They weren't something to be dismissed, even the most simplest elements. They were to be respected, listened to, and were meant to encourage you to shift mentally and emotionally in indescribable ways.

You figured the fire was symbolic for the stress and worry you were feeling, with everything moving so quickly over the last few days.

After all, the threat of Thanos was looming more and more. No longer was he a whispered rumour that was occasionally passed around at dinnertime with the rest of the Avengers. He was an actual threat now, and the Avengers were holding meetings twice a day to try and develop a plan of attack.

He had the power stone. It was only a matter of time before he found the others.

Twenty-four hours before everything changed, a vision came to you differently than all the others.

You were in the kitchen preparing lunch for yourself when your ears began ringing. Whispers filled your mind from the inside and spoke to you in a language you didn't understand, yet chilled you to the bone at the same time. There was a blinding flash of light that nearly paralyzed you, and as you strained to focus your eyes, you noticed a small orange stone materialize in front of you.

The soul stone.

It glided closer and closer to you, and as it did so the whispers grew louder. The lives of thousands flashed before your eyes. Their deaths did, as well. It was showing you the cycle of humanity -- birth, life, death, repeat -- almost taunting you that this seemingly inevitable thing could be controlled.

You gasped, dropped the plate in your hands accidentally. It fell to the floor with an earsplitting crash, and as quickly as the soul stone arrived, it disappeared in a swirl of orange smoke.

Your hands were shaking as you knelt down to collect the bigger pieces of the now-shattered plate. A hand on your back made you flinch in surprise and you instinctively curled closer towards the kitchen cabinets in an attempt to protect yourself.

"It's just me." Loki's soft voice seemed foggy and distant as your brain continued to adjust from the voices and the ringing you had just heard. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head and sunk to the floor, half in defeat and half in relief that you weren't alone anymore. These visions were growing far too intense for you to handle.

You looked up at Loki, who exchanged an anxious expression with you. His green eyes searched your face, seemingly looking for an explanation of what had just happened to you.

"I saw something," you whispered, absentmindedly gripping the plate shard in your hand tighter. "Loki, I think I saw the soul stone."

His eyes widened as he knelt down beside you and gently pried the glass out of your grip, setting it down out of your reach. He replaced the broken piece in your hand with his own, and you sighed shakily as his thumb gently stroked the top of your hand.

"Did it show you anything?" He asked quietly, and you nodded quickly in response.

"I saw life, death... everything." You felt far removed from you own voice, almost like it didn't belong to you. "It's been happening in dreams too, but I've never seen the stone itself before."

You gazed at Loki, who almost seemed to disappear into his own thoughts at your mention of the visions you saw. You knew all too well about the Tesseract, and the way it had tormented Loki once before. The infinity stones were not gentle to humans, or gods for that matter.

"Do you think this has something to do with Thanos?" You asked, your voice trembling as you whispered. "Do you think maybe he managed to get the soul stone?"

Loki shook his head slowly, but it wasn't without hesitation.

"The soul stone is far away on Vormir. It's guarded heavily. I doubt-"

"Hey, you two okay?"

You glanced up quickly just as Tony stepped into the room. His eyes swept over the mess of a broken plate on the floor before landing on you and Loki, huddled together in the corner of the kitchen as if your lives depended on it.

Tony looked as exhausted as you felt. No one had really slept well in the last few days, but you couldn't imagine what it was like for Tony: he had been staying up until ungodly hours of the morning with Steve, Vision, and Rhodey, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

"Yeah," you shook your head as you tried to clear the last of the visions out of your mind. "Sorry, that was an accident. I'm just... really tired."

Tony gave a perfectly-timed yawn as he knelt down and began to pick up the broken pieces of the plate you dropped.

"I feel ya, kid."

You watched as him and Loki exchanged resigned nods of acknowledgement, and you grabbed Loki's hand before he could step forward to help Tony clean up the mess.

Should I tell him? You asked telepathically. About the soul stone?

Loki gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Not yet. His voice echoed through your mind like the whispers from the soul stone moments ago, bringing you warmth rather than fear. Until we fully understand why these visions are occurring, I believe it would be best to not burden Stark with any more details. It would only cause more problems.

You nodded in agreement as you pushed yourself up onto your feet shakily. You stepped forward to help Tony clean up the mess, only feel your head spin violently. You lurched forward, grabbing onto the counter as you tried to stop yourself from falling.

"Hey, whoa!" Tony sprang up and grabbed your shoulders just as you felt Loki's arms wrap around your waist in an effort to keep you standing. "Easy there, kid. Jesus, are you okay?"

"I feel sick." You mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep the room from spinning. Even with two people supporting your weight, you still felt as though you were going to fall over.

"Go sleep, okay?" Tony told you sternly. You made a sound of protest and tried to help him continue cleaning up. Tony shook his head in response.

"Don't worry about this, we'll clean it up." His gaze shifted over to Loki, who still held you tightly. You could feel his hands trembling ever-so-slightly, and you placed your own hand over his weakly as you attempted to silently reassure him that you'd be okay.

"Loki, make sure Y/N gets some rest."

"I will."

Loki scooped you up into his arms in one fluid motion, causing you to wince as spots danced in your vision. You buried your head against his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to hold yourself together.

Has this ever happened to you? You manage to ask Loki telepathically as he set you carefully down on your bed. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before crawling into bed beside you.

Not to this degree, he replied. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips as he gently pulled you close, cradling the back of your head. The infinity stones all have variable levels of energy, but I have never dealt with the soul stone before.

Do you mean their frequencies vary depending on their roles?

Precisely.

You sighed defeatedly, troubled by the fact that -- out of all the infinity stones -- the one that boasted power over life and death itself just had to come find you.

You knew mystics seemed to have some sort of connection to the stones, seeing as Stephen knew the time stone and guarded it with his life. You had hoped, though, that if another stone were to find its way somehow to another mystic, it would be Wong, not you.

Loki nudged your chin up ever so slightly with his fingertips, encouraging you to look up at him. He gave you a warm, gentle smile as he caressed your cheek slowly.

"Rest now," he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead softly. "I will stay with you, I promise."

You nodded halfheartedly in response. Every cell in your being longed for nothing more but rest, yet at the same time you were afraid to close your eyes in case the soul stone was still lurking somewhere in your mind. Waiting for you.

It felt as though you had only just closed your eyes, when the sound of thunder jolted you out of your sleep. You felt weightless as you opened your eyes slowly, taking in the purple hues of clouds above you. As you felt yourself float higher, you realized with a sickening sinking feeling that your body was still in your bed, far away from where you currently were.

Your spirit had separated from your physical body, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to be able to get back.

You glanced upward as you continued your ascent just as two towering structures came into view at the top of a cliff. The whispers that had filled your mind earlier that day resumed, and you cried out in fear, clutching your head in your hands. It only made them grow stronger.

As flashes of orange began filling your vision, your blood ran cold as you realized where you were.

Somehow, your spirit had found its way to Vormir.

Reaching the top of the cliff, you stepped carefully onto the platform just as a hooded figure glided towards you.

Never before has this stone ever summoned a soul into its presence. A chill ran up your spine as the guardian's voice echoed in your mind, crackling like ice.

Many have sought this stone, but it belongs to no one.

"So why did it bring me here?" You demanded, curling your arms around your middle in an attempt control your nerves. You were vulnerable here. You were powerless without your physical body -- incantations and even the mirror realm would be of no use to you in this state.

The soul stone seems to have taken a certain interest in you. It sees potential... for what is yet to come.

"I don't understand." Your own voice seemed to wrap around you in an endless echo. You instinctively took a step back as your head spun from sensory overload.

You walk the line between the living and the dead, mystic.

"But I'm not the only mystic. There's more out there like me, surely they experienced the same thing? I mean, there's Stephen-"

No. Your breath caught in your throat as the hooded figure raised its head to gaze at you, and your eyes met fiery blood red irises. You turned your gaze to the ground in an attempt to divert your fear and calm your racing heart.

Stephen Strange is already in possession of the time stone, the guardian explained slowly. There are no other mystics who possess the strength -- or courage -- to cross over into the land of the dead.

"But I'm not dead." You protested, ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind that drew your attention back to the fact that you were currently a spirit on another planet, far away from your body. "I... I've been training in the mystic arts for a few years now. Never in my life has anything like this happened. Why now am I suddenly getting visions?"

There is another who seeks the soul stone as we speak, the guardian replied. To your relief, it kept its distance from you. He yearns to own it.

"Thanos," you whispered, feeling a cold chill run up your spine as you spoke his name.

Yes, mystic, the guardian nodded solemnly. However, there are elements of the soul stone that the Titan has not tried to understand. Just like how life and death are two sides of the same coin, so too does the soul stone have another aspect.

You gasped as the soul stone materialized in front of you, hovering level with your line of sight just like when you were in the kitchen back at the Compound. You watched as it began to spin, gradually growing faster and faster, until it split neatly into two halves.

The soul stone embodies both the physical and the spiritual, and thus each aspect is acquired through complete mastery of its respective lesson.

The guardian's words echoed in your mind as you gazed at the fragments of the soul stone curiously. The fear you had felt in connection with your earlier visions was gone now. In its place, all you felt was awe.

As one of the pieces of the soul stone began gliding closer to you, you reached out your hand in an attempt to touch it. It looked so warm, so inviting. You longed to know what it would feel like to hold a piece of ancient power in your hands.

No.

You flinched, glancing at the guarding whose voice boomed in your head. As if to reinforce his words, the shards of the soul stone vanished into thin air.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" You asked quietly. "You said there's a connection between myself and the soul stone, I don't understand."

You must earn it. It does not come willingly to anyone.

"Then I don't want it." You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't know why any of this is happening, but I want it to stop. I want to go home."

Very well.

The guardian raised his hand, and you felt yourself being pulled backwards slowly, back the way you came.

I offer you a piece of advice, mystic, the voice in your mind echoed out louder than ever. In order to gain the physical shard of the stone, you must lose the one you love. To gain the spirit shard, you must know the path that leads you back to them.

There was a sharp tug around your middle, and you felt your heart freeze in your chest as you began plummeting down the cliff. You squeezed your eyes shut as the wind echoed like a jet plane in your ears.

Remember this, the guardian's voice was distant now. You had to strain to register the words in your mind. The spirit shard cannot be found on Vormir. The fate of the physical shard is being decided as we speak. Use this knowledge wisely, mystic.

An image flashed in your mind of a titan ascending the mountain, towards the top of the cliff upon which your spirit had just stood. You caught a glint of purple, blue, and red flash from his hand.

You gasped, bolting upright as the heavy sensation that accompanied falling back into your body ran through you. You were trembling, drenched in a cold sweat, and you yelped as two hands planted themselves firmly on your shoulders.

"Relax!" Your heart sped up in your chest as you tried to fight off whoever was holding onto you. "Y/N, relax, it's me!"

Loki came into focus in front of you, his eyes never straying from yours as you tried to catch your breath. His hands were steady, but you caught a flash of fear in his eyes as he gazed at you.

"What happened?" He whispered, pulling you into a protective and firm embrace. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind wandered back to the visions that flashed behind your eyes moments before you woke up.

"Thanos." Your voice felt far away, almost foreign to you, as you replied softly. Your trembling hands reached up to pull Loki even closer to you. You were afraid you'd lose control and end up separated from your body again. You didn't want to be alone once more.

"What?"

"Thanos." You repeated again, glancing out the window into the now-darkened sky to make sure you were no longer on Vormir. You couldn't trust yourself. "Loki, I saw him. He's got more stones. He found the Tesseract."

Loki pushed you away, only to wrap his hands firmly around your arms. The fear he had hidden so well moments ago was dancing like fire in his eyes.

"That's impossible," he said slowly, and you weren't sure if those words were for you, or if they were an attempt to convince himself. "You hid the Tesseract yourself, you took it from me and-"

"I know what I did." You snapped. You winced as Loki recoiled away from you ever-so-slightly. "I'm sorry. I'm just... Look, you have to believe me Loki. Please. I was on Vormir, or at least my spirit was. The guardian of the soul stone was there, it spoke to me, I-"

"I believe you." Loki's soft whisper stopped the rambling thoughts that were pouring out of your mouth, and you nearly cried in relief at his words. His expression softened as he took in your torn, distressed expression, and he kissed your forehead softly.

"I believe you." He repeated again, pulling you close.

"We don't have much time." Your voice felt tight in your throat as you spoke. "Right before I woke up, I saw Thanos approaching Vormir. The rest of the stones are on Earth, Loki. I think he's coming here next."

"We need to tell the others."

"Will they know what to do?"

Loki's gaze burned into yours determinedly as he took your hand and helped you up off your bed.

"All we can do is hope."

The two of you raced down the hall, pounding on every door you passed as you tried to wake everyone up at once. Tired groans of protest echoed from within a few rooms, only encouraging you to knock even louder on the Avengers' doors.

"Everyone up!" You exclaimed. You couldn't ignore the way your voice and hands trembled as you made your way down the hall. "Emergency meeting, now!"

The Compound slowly came to life once more as you and Loki reached the end of the hall, and the two of you were met with numerous confused and somewhat alarmed looks.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, effortlessly keeping up with your strides as you made your way to the meeting room.

"Y/N had a vision." Loki explained, taking your hand and giving it a small squeeze in an attempt to comfort you. "Thanos is coming."

"What!?" Bruce's shocked exclamation echoed out from behind you as he jogged to keep up. "We were monitoring his whereabouts, just a few hours ago he was still light years away from Earth looking for the other five infinity stones-"

"Yeah, well, he's managed to get two more," You answered as you sat yourself down in a chair in the meeting room. Loki sat close beside you, resting his knee against yours in a silent gesture, as if to communicate he was right by your side through all of this.

"He's on Vormir as we speak," you continued as everyone took their seats around the table. "He's looking for the soul stone. That's infinity stone number four. He'll be coming for us next."

"How do you know that?" Natasha's question sounded out from the other side of the room.

"There's six stones in total, right?"

Your question earned slow nods from the Avengers sitting around you.

"I saw his glove. He's got the power stone -- as we know -- as well as the reality stone, and now the space stone too."

"The Tesseract was destroyed along with Asgard." Thor remarked, frowning as he took in your words. You looked over at Loki quickly, the two of you exchanging anxious glances, before you looked back at Thor and shook your head.

"The Tesseract was... misplaced." You answered slowly.

Everyone flinched as Thor banged his fist against the table, his gaze immediately shifting away from you as realization burned in his eyes.

"Loki!"

"I assure you brother-"

"I knew it was a bad idea bringing Rock of Ages here onto the team." Tony interrupted pointing an accusatory finger at Loki. Several other Avengers nodded in agreement.

"It wasn't his fault!" You exclaimed loudly. The room felt silent as everyone frowned at you in confusion. "It was mine. I should've destroyed it but I didn't. I just opened a portal and... threw it in."

"Do you know where it went?" Steve asked you.

"At the time, I didn't. I had no idea Thanos was out there looking for the stones at the same time. I just wanted that thing far away from us. It's caused enough trouble, and we didn't need any more."

Loki squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile as he heard your reply.

"There are two stones left," you continued, glancing around the room worriedly as you thought about the threat of Thanos looming over your team like a dark shadow. "Stephen is guarding the time stone downtown. Assuming he's kept his guard up as usual, he'll be one step ahead of Thanos and he'll already be taking precautions to keep it out of his reach."

You paused, glancing nervously over at Vision. His eyes met yours in understanding, and he gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement.

"The other stone," you continued quietly. "Is right here in this room with us."

A strange humming sound caused a hushed silence to fall over the Compound. You frowned, straining your ears as you tried to listen.

"Does anyone else hear that-"

Tony's question was cut off by an explosion that took out the entire side wall of the Compound. The force of the blast knocked you to the ground, and your ears rang violently as you tried to orient yourself once more with your surroundings.

"This is too easy. Everyone in one room together, how... pathetic."

You glanced up to see Thanos looming over everyone, an already victorious grin on his face as he examined the aftermath of the blast he had caused.

"I would've thought you'd make it more difficult for me."

The stones on Thanos' gauntlet began to glow, and you felt an arm yank you backwards and into their grasp before a ray of purple light blasted throughout the room. You glanced behind you to find Loki, his jaw clenched as he stared in fear towards Thanos, before casting a protective spell over the two of you.

You tried to pull away, to gather up the other members of the team and bring them to safety, but Loki's grip was firm and unrelenting.

"They need help!" You exclaimed in protest. "Everyone's vulnerable, all our defense and weapons are two floors down-"

"You go over there, and you'll get killed." Loki muttered through gritted teeth. "I can't lose you. Stay here."

"But-"

"Stay here!"

Loki trembled as he tried to keep his shield up. Pressing yourself closer to him, you cast the strongest protective spell you knew and placed it overtop of his. Green and gold magic intertwined together, forming a tightly-knit dome over the two of you.

"I think I can get Bruce," you whispered, nodding towards the corner of the room. "He's not very far-"

Your idea was suddenly interrupted as Thanos raised his gauntlet, and the soul stone began to glow.

You watched in horror as every member of your team outside of your protective dome was wrapped in an orange aura, and lifted off the ground.

"No!" You yelled, stumbling forward and pushing your protective spell further outwards in an attempt to save those closest to you. A spark of energy backfired, burning your hands and causing you to stumbled back with a cry of pain.

"I can't get to them," you gasped, glancing at Loki in horror. "I can't get past the soul stone."

Thanos heard your words, and he shifted his gaze in your direction with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" You demanded, watching as Steve and Tony, among others, struggled to be released from the titan's invisible grasp.

"Those who play hero only bring more war," Thanos stated, glancing behind your shoulder at Loki and smiling coldly. "I'm putting an end to this child's play, once and for all."

"Let them go!" You yelled, reaching forward in a weak attempt to save your teammates. Your gesture only earned a piteous laugh from the titan.

"You're choosing to play a bold game, mystic." Thanos continued. "By keeping that shield of yours up, you're creating more pain. All you are doing is delaying your death."

"It'll give us more time to plot yours." Loki retorted from behind you with gritted teeth.

"Bold as ever, Asgardian." Thanos smirked. "But not strong enough. Neither of you are."

You glanced desperately over at Tony for any sort of help, but all you exchanged were helpless glances.

"There will be no more heroes," Thanos boomed, raising his gauntlet triumphantly. The soul stone began to glow once more. "No more martyrs. No more humans. Only gods."

"I believe in you, kid." Tony gasped out. "You can do this."

"I can't." You cried out, your heart racing as you glanced between your teammates and Thanos. "I don't know how."

You managed to catch a determined nod from Tony, before a loud snap reverberated through the room, knocking you and Loki backwards.

There was a gust of cold air as Thanos opened a portal with the space stone, smirking victoriously down at the two of you.

"We'll meet again, mystic."

Thanos pulled a now-unconscious Vision towards him with his gauntlet and disappeared, the portal closing as soon as it opened. You lowered your shield to run for your teammates, who were still hovering unconscious in mid-air, only to be stopped by Loki.

"Look."

You watched in horror as, one by one, each member of the Avengers dissolved into ash and vanished before your eyes. Crying out in disbelief, you lowered your protection spell and raced forward before Loki could protest.

"Tony!"

You tried to reach for his hand, to pull him out of the orange aura that held him captive. As soon as your fingers brushed his, he turned to ash immediately.

You sunk to your knees, the sudden silence that fell over the Compound feeling like a graveyard. You heard Loki run towards Thor, calling his name over and over again, before he too fell silent.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and a cold chill shook your insides as his eyes mirrored the same terror you felt inside yourself.

Unable to find the strength to stand, you crawled over to where he sat and buried your face in his shoulder. As soon as Loki's arms wrapped around you, you were unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body. You felt him trembling and realized that he, too, was crying.

"They're all gone." You whispered, your voice distorted through your tears. "Everyone's gone."

Loki didn't reply. Instead, he pulled you closer and ran his hands in small circles upon your back, almost as if he were memorizing the feel of you in his arms.

The sound of your cries echoed out through the Compound and reverberated back towards the two of you, piercing your skin like little knives. You squeezed shut your eyes, hoping that this was all a bad dream and -- when you opened your eyes again -- the Avengers would be right back in this room with you and Loki, ready to formulate a plan of attack.

When you opened your eyes, however, nothing changed.

There was only one infinity stone left.

Everyone was gone, leaving only you and Loki.

Thanos had won.

END OF PART ONE.

Taglist: @startrekkingaroundasgard @delightfulheartdream @justasmisunderstoodasloki @marvels-mischief @k8obr @pastyoverlord265 @lowkeytesss @levylovegood

Taglist for this fic only: @littleredstarfish @treblebeth @taylordani03

[bakugoyelling]

Desire

Tamaki Amajiki x Fem! Reader 

Warnings: 18+/smut, spitting, finger sucking, squirting

Word Count: 4.8K

Author’s Note: I started writing this about four months ago, and there were times where I felt like I would never finish it. But I kept tapping away at it whenever I could, and it’s finally complete! Enjoy ♡ All characters are aged up 20+

When Fat Gum had asked Tamaki if he could take the night shift for the next week, due to the hero who usually patrolled at night needing time to recover after an accident; your pro-hero boyfriend was more than happy to help. Tamaki even thought working at night would be easier on him since fewer people were out compared to the daytime.

But because of this, your hours weren’t quite lined up with his anymore, and when you were ending your workday Tamaki was beginning his. It left little opportunity for the two of you to hang out in person like you usually did, but you still made sure to call him every night before you went to bed and wish him a safe night of patrolling.

Fortunately, the schedule change wasn’t permanent and Tamaki was now back to working his regular day shift hours. As an added bonus for helping out, Fat Gum had even given him the weekend off. Which meant today you could finally head over to Tamaki’s place and spend some much needed time together.

After a tiring day of work, it was nice to spend the rest of your night simply relaxing with Tamaki, binge-watching a new series with him and his roommate Mirio. The three of you always did things like that, and your boyfriend was glad that two of his favorite people got along so great.

“So what’d you guys think? That was awesome right?” Mirio asked from across the living room, grabbing the remote and quickly lowering the volume as the last episode came to an end.

“Yeah, it was cool,” Tamaki answered with a simple nod of approval.

“Yeah, it was really good Mirio! I’m glad you guys waited for me to come over so we could all watch together.”

“Of course! We wouldn’t want to watch it without you.” Mirio smiled, standing up to collect the empty bowl that was once full of popcorn from the coffee table. He continued to talk while he carried it off to the kitchen, his voice growing in volume, so to be heard over the sound of the spraying water as he rinsed it clean.

“I know we just spent hours sitting on our butts…” Mirio paused, turning off the water and drying his hands on a nearby towel. “But I'm actually kind of tired now, so I’m gonna head to my room. Probably gonna fall asleep as soon as I hit the bed.” Chuckling to himself, he walked back to the living room, and with a wave of his hand, he wished you and Tamaki a good night.

“Goodnight Mirio.” The two of you said. After hearing the click of Miro’s bedroom door shut, you turned to Tamaki and reached down to interlace your fingers with his before softly pressing your lips to the warmth of his cheek.

“I’m kind of tired too Tama, wanna go to your room and get nice and comfy?” You asked, pulling away from your dove-like kiss, the hopeful glint in your eyes making Tamaki smile.

It had only been a week since you’d last been with each other, but it felt like it had been a month. Tamaki missed spending time with you those last few days. He missed seeing you, touching you, just missed being with you. Letting his gaze fall, he glanced at your intertwined fingers, then back up to your face, and without even thinking, Tamaki leaned in to kiss you, gently pressing his lips to yours and letting them linger for just a second before leaning back.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

It was a short walk from the living room to Tamaki’s bedroom, and once the two of you were changed into your pajamas, laying in the comfort of his pillow laden bed. You had to admit you weren’t actually that tired.

“Okay, maybe I just wanted to cuddle you some more.” You confessed, hooking your bare leg around Tamaki’s waist and trapping him in place. The sound of his laugh filling your heart with joy when he chuckled at your actions.

“Hey...don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” He assured you, bringing his hand down to rest on your leg. You gazed up at him through your lashes while squeezing yourself closer to his body, and for a few seconds, the room was silent.

You may not have known it but at that very moment, Tamaki was admiring you. Your eyes, your hair, your nose, everything about you was just so beautiful to him. And after seven days of not being with each other, he was taking the time to appreciate just how lucky he was to have you.

“I love you,” you whispered, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I love you too,” Tamaki replied, delicately pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Smiling, and with your limbs still wrapped around his body, you laid your head back down to rest against his chest. And while you may have had intentions of turning your innocent cuddles into something more, for the time being, you were content simply laying in Tamaki’s arms while his hands tenderly rubbed at your back. After all, you still had the entire weekend left to spend with each other.

But the next day, it was safe to say that just sleeping next Tamaki had resulted in you waking up with an almost unbearable need for him. The throbbing sensation that was emitting from between your thighs was hard to ignore, and while you were positive you could have convinced him into taking you at any given moment; you didn’t, because Mirio was still home and when Mirio was around you were urged to keep quiet during sex, because Tamaki found the possibility of his best friend hearing the lewd sounds of him railing his girlfriend, to be absolutely horrifying.

You tried to divert your attention to other things, but it was difficult to focus when everything Tamaki did caused your panties to become slick with arousal. Even the sight of him going about everyday activities had you rubbing your thighs together.

Like the way the back of his hair slightly bounced when he walked reminded you of all the times you had tugged those silky indigo locks as he panted into your shoulder while he rocked his body against yours. Or how watching Tamaki’s hands pull open a bag of chips took you back to that one time he pulled at your panties so tightly, desperate to get them off of you, that he ripped them. It almost felt shameful to be thinking about such things when your boyfriend was just wholesomely going about his day. Although, much like you, Tamaki was having his own perverse thoughts.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he tried his best to prevent his eyes from staring at the curves of your body while you bent over in front of the refrigerator, searching for your favorite drink. The little gasp you let out upon finding the cherry-flavored beverage caused his ears to tingle, the sound all too familiar to the noises you made when his cock was tracing against the walls of your pussy. But it wasn't an appropriate time to be thinking such things, so he swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away, turning to Mirio for a distraction.

With the help of your energetic friend’s jokes and boisterous laughter, both you and Tamaki were able to focus on other things, making your perpetual thoughts about each other easier to dismiss but not entirely disappear. Who would have thought that a week without sex would leave the two of you acting like this?

Later on in the day, with a fridge full of nothing, Mirio kindly offered to order food for the three of you. “You guys get whatever you want! My treat.” He handed Tamaki his phone. The restaurant app already pulled up to a variety of menu options.

“I think I’ll just get the same thing I always get. What about you?” Tamaki asked, turning the phone in your direction. Looking through the menu, you decided to do the same as your boyfriend and played it safe by ordering something familiar that you were sure to enjoy. He added your items to the bag and checked it over for accuracy before handing the phone back to his friend, and just like that, your order was placed. Now all you had to do was wait around until it was ready for pick-up, which didn’t take too long.

With his tongue poking past his lips, Mirio slipped on his jacket and slid on his shoes as he prepared to leave. “Well, I should probably go now. Gonna try and get there super fast. You know, so the food is nice and fresh from the grill! Be right back, don’t have too much fun without me!” He winked at you and Tamaki before walking out the door. 

As it shut, the thought of fulfilling your day-long desires definitely crossed your mind, but you figured there was no use in trying to get Tamaki to fuck you such a short amount of time. After all, the restaurant wasn’t very far. It was just up the street, and since your order had been placed in advance, Mirio was sure to be back quickly.

So instead, you decided to make yourself comfortable by leaning your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder so you could continue distracting yourself by aimlessly scrolling on your phone. While you waited for your food, you and Tamaki spent your time looking through social media together. Somehow, whenever the two of you did that, you always ended up watching those short, relaxing videos together, the ones that showed things like people icing cakes or showing off their calligraphy skills. They were only a few seconds long, but when one ended, another one would pop up on the screen, it was hard to look away. Mid-way through a satisfying painting video, the sound of Tamaki’s phone buzzing against the table made the both of you flinch, taking you out of your trance. Hurriedly, he shifted about to grab it, answering with a simple, “Hello?”

You could hear Mirio’s voice on the other end, he sounded like he was explaining something, but you weren’t quite sure what. Glancing up to see if Tamaki’s expression could give you any hints, you watched him stay straight-faced as he continued to listen. “Yeah, sure that’s fine…” Tamaki didn’t say much after that, he just nodded his head and agreed to whatever his friend was telling him before he said bye and hung up the phone.

“That was Mirio. He said the restaurant messed up the order, but they offered to replace it. They’re remaking everything, so he won’t be here for another thirty or forty minutes.”

“Oh, okay,” The higher beings from above must have been listening to your silent pleas all day and finally decided to bless you with the opportunity to give you and your boyfriend what you had been craving, all damn day. Scooching closer to Tamaki, you peered up at him while your hand rested on his thigh, “Tama, how about we —”  

But he was already one step ahead of you.

“Come on.” Grabbing your hand, he tugged you down the hallway and made his way towards the bedroom. Tamaki’s bold behavior was enticing to you, and as you trailed behind him you were giddy like a schoolgirl, hot and bothered for her boyfriend.

Once in his room, Tamaki shut the door out of habit, and the two of you wasted no time as you began taking off your clothes. Pulling your t-shirt and bra off in one swift movement, you tossed the garments across the room, where Tamaki’s clothes soon joined yours. As he undressed, you took a second to admire the man standing across from you. Because over the last seven days, you had not only missed kissing and cuddling up to him, but you had also missed the sight of Tamaki’s perfectly built body, not to mention the sight of his throbbing hard-on.

“You’re staring…” Tamaki’s tone was playful as he walked towards you. Placing his hands on your hips, he curled his fingers into the material of your underwear and lightly yanked up the sides. “Too caught up looking at me to even take off your own panties, but that just gives me the opportunity to do it, huh?”

“I-I guess so.” You could feel your cheeks heat up as he spoke to you. Usually, you were the one making Tamaki blush, but now it was the opposite.

“Good...I like it when I get to take them off.” He said against your lips as he pushed your panties past your thighs. Looking down, he watched them fall and gather around your ankles where the sight of a shimmering, sticky wet spot in the center of the delicate material only made him more eager to fuck you.

“You’re so soft,” Tamaki slid his hands down to grab at the smooth skin of your ass, his fingers gently digging into your flesh as he pushed your cheeks apart. Basking in his touch, the only noises coming from you were your heavy pants of breath before Tamaki leaned in to kiss you, pulling your body closer to his while your tongues tangled around each other. Taking one hand, he slid it in between your bodies and trailed his fingers down to graze at your clit before dipping them into your glistening folds.

“And so wet…” Your needy moans filled his mouth as he pulled away from the kiss, glancing down at you with lust-filled eyes. His fingers continued to play with your slick, letting two of his digits languidly dip into your pussy while his thumb toyed with your clit.

“Yeah?” You trailed your hands up his arms until you reached his shoulders. “Well, that’s because I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day. Had to practically hold in a moan earlier, couldn’t stop thinking about riding you.”

Tamaki’s eyes widened at your words, and his muscles tightened from beneath your touch as he pulled his fingers from your sex, letting his erection twitch against your stomach. “Well, it’s just us now, so you can moan all you want.” Resting his hands on your hips, he took a seat on the bed and tugged you forward, letting your body fall on top of his as he laid his body back to rest against the mattress.

A slight giggle emitted from you as you balanced yourself with the palms of your hands and positioned your knees on either side of him. Dropping down to rest on your forearms, you met his gaze from below you and reached out to gently cup his cheek.

“And so can you Tama.” You said with an endearing grin before you leaned in for another kiss, rocking your heated core against the length of his cock. He whimpered into your mouth, the sweet sounds making your pussy clench as he trailed his hand down your body before he stopped to squeeze at your ass.

The kiss began to grow sloppy as the two of you nipped at each other's lips, panting through your movements before you pulled back to raise yourself up. You let your hands rest on Tamaki's chest, and he lowered his eyes to watch you grind against him as you ran the dripping folds of your cunt along his aching shaft, your movements making the tip ooze with pre-cum. Then suddenly, you stopped and brought a hand down to grab at his cock. You held it in place as you stared into his eyes, gathering up the saliva in your mouth before drooling down onto it. “Ooh fuck…” he gasped as the ropy liquid slowly trailed down his length.

“Your turn.” You urged him with a playful smile, placing your fingertips below his mouth. Any other time, Tamaki would have found spitting on you to be gross, but during moments like these, he was more than happy to oblige.

“There we go, mmm good boy,” You sighed, observing the way his lips puckered as he built up the saliva in his mouth before he spat down onto your fingers. Bringing your wet hand down to his shaft the two of you looked down to admire how Tamaki’s spittle blended with yours as you worked your hand, lightly stroking him and rubbing your thumb across his slit, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there, and adding it to the sloppy mixture.

Satisfied with your work, you rose to your knees while you held onto his cock, maneuvering your body to hover your pussy over the tip of his length. Circling your hips, you teased Tamaki as you played with yourself, lightly slapping the flushed head of his cock against your pillowy clit.

“Please…” Tamaki groaned out your name, the heavy rise and fall of his chest making him sound so needy as he longed to finally feel your tight heat wrap around him.

“Please, just - ahhh fuck,” You interrupted his pleas as you slowly sunk yourself onto him, both you and Tamaki hissing and whimpering as you relished in the heavenly feeling of his cock stuffing you full.

“Oh god, you feel so fucking good.” You whined as you began to move your hips, pushing yourself further down his length.

Tamaki placed his hand on your waist, and with the tips of his fingers stroking at your sides, he couldn’t resist wanting to be closer to you. So he squeezed at your skin, beckoning for you to lean forward. As you pressed your lips to his and laced your fingers through his hair, he wrapped his arms around your body and held you close as he began to gyrate his hips against yours, adding to the pleasure. If you could lay like that forever, panting in between the breaths of your kiss as your bodies became one, you would, but Tamaki’s sensual ministrations didn’t last long. While you may have been on top of him, he was the one who was in control.

Without warning, Tamaki’s pace began to grow faster as he adjusted his hips and slid his hands down your back to grab at your ass. Digging his fingers into your flesh, he pumped his cock into you at a quickening speed, making the mattress squeak from beneath you as your mouth parted in a lecherous moan at the insatiable feeling of him inside of you. In an attempt to hide the heat that had spread across your cheeks, you cradled your face into his shoulder. And while Tamaki loved having your body pressed against his, he loved watching the way you worked that body on top of his even more.

Turning his head, he whispered into your ear. “Let me see you ride my cock.” Tamaki’s voice was gentle as he spoke, yet at the same time, it was strong and demanding. He wasn’t asking you, he was telling you, and you fucking loved it when he took charge like that.

Obeying his command, you pushed yourself up, resting your hands behind you and grasping onto his thighs as you began to skillfully bounce up and down his length. Tamaki couldn't keep his eyes off of your debauched state. With your mouth agape, your eyes fluttering closed, and that pretty little pussy creaming all over his cock, he was absolutely mesmerized by every single part of you.  

Sliding a hand up your stomach Tamaki trailed it in between your breasts, swiping a thumb across your pert nipple and watching it harden as his hand continued to travel up until he placed it around your neck. Your jaw dropped further when he pressed his hand down, applying a light pressure against your throat that allowed him to cradle your chin for a moment before he slipped two fingers into your mouth and watched with a lustful gaze as you accepted them with ease. Humming around his thick digits, you wrapped your tongue around them and hollowed out your cheeks, coating them in saliva while you suckled them further into your mouth.

“Yeah...you like sucking on my fingers while you ride me, don’t you?” Tamaki snapped his hips up, pushing his cock further into you and making your lips part in a high pitched keen as you felt him hit that sweet tender spot inside of you.

“Fucking beautiful,” He sighed, eyeing the strings of spit that slapped against your chin as he drew his hand back. You whined at his words, feeling the walls of your cunt flutter around his cock as you began to vigorously grind against him, stimulating your puffy clit against his pubic bone.

“That’s it, you’re my slutty girl, aren’t you... I bet you want me to fuck you harder, huh?”

“Uh-huh….” You squeaked out, giving Tamaki a doe-eyed look and feigning innocence as you went back to plunging yourself up and down his length, trailing your fingers over his abs while you bounced on him.

Gritting his teeth together, Tamaki placed his hands under your ass and lifted you up. He gripped at the plush flesh before he expertly angled his hips and began ramming into, pressing the head of his cock into the delectably soft, spongy area of your g-spot.

“Oh fuck, holy shit,” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and babbled curse words flowed out of your mouth as Tamaki continued drilling in and out of your sopping wet cunt. The whines he was eliciting from you were incessant, and the way he was sinking into you with excessive fervor to not only make himself feel good but you as well, was a feeling you had hoped you’d never tire from.

“Ahh, Tamaki,” The three syllables of his name falling past your lips made your boyfriend even more diligent to please you. Your voice was intoxicating to him; your tone a telltale sign that you were close, and Tamaki was dead set on making you cum. So he moved a hand to grip onto your waist, and without hesitation, used the other to lay a hard slap against your ass. 

The sensation was unreal, a mixture of pain and pleasure that made your eyes shut as you clamped down on him, crying out a string of curse words while he sheathed his length into the warmth of your cunt, concentrating on hitting the sensitive tissue inside of you. 

“Cum for me, rub that swollen little clit and cum all over my cock like a good girl,” Tamaki ordered you in between breaths. 

You were too blissed out to say anything, only responding with a piercing whine as you leaned back to steady yourself with the palms of your hands. Bringing one hand forward, you moved your fingers down to the puffy bundle of nerves in between your legs and began swiftly rolling it in small, tight circles as the intense pressure that had been building up inside of you finally felt ready to release.

“Oooh, fuck T-Tamaki,” Your throat burned as you cried out your boyfriend’s name. Feeling your pussy squeeze around his cock, your thighs began to tremble when the heat pooling in your stomach spread through your entire body, pushing you over the edge and into a state of bliss as a stream of clear liquid began to squirt from your sex.

“Fuck yes baby…” Tamaki sighed, his cheeks tinted a shade of pink while he stared down at your cunt, wide-eyed and awestruck at the sight of you gushing across the toned muscles of his abdomen.

“Holy shit, ooohh! Tama, I'm sorry.” You looked down to meet your blushing boyfriend’s gaze and watched your essence spill from you in disbelief as it splashed against your thighs and pooled onto the bed.

“Don’t worry, keep going...squirt all over me while I cum inside of you.”

Your body was coated in a thin layer of sweat as you nodded your head and worked with Tamaki towards his lewd request. He continued snapping his hips into your squelching cunt, stimulating your g-spot with the head of his cock as you hurriedly rolled your clit with your fingers. You were a moaning mess, and it only took a matter of seconds for Tamaki to reach his peak as well.

With a deep guttural groan, he filled you, strings of white painting the walls of your pussy while it clenched around his length, and you came for a second time. Placing your hands on his chest, the final spurts of clear liquid splashed onto his skin as your entire body trembled and twitched until your arms gave out, and you collapsed on top of him, completely fucked out of your mind.

“Holy shit.” You breathed out a laugh as you laid your cheek against the sweaty skin of his chest, letting the sound of his beating heart calm you after such an intense orgasm.

“You’re amazing, you know that. I love you so much.” Tamaki said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and smiling as he wrapped his arms around you, placing one hand on your lower back while the other rubbed gentle circles in between your shoulder blades.

“I love you more.” You mumbled against his chest. “I’m sorry I made such a mess. I didn’t expect all that to happen.” You eyed the bedding underneath you. It was drenched, and the undeniably large stain wasn’t going to go away by simply dabbing a towel over it.

“No need to be sorry, I thought you squirting all over me like that was sexy. It was more than worth a little mess.” Tamaki would never admit it, but he had been intent on making you squirt one day, and he hoped the image of you cumming on his cock like that would forever be ingrained into his memory. In fact, if he was being honest, he felt like going another round, just so he could make you gush on him all over again. “But Mirio’s probably gonna be back soon, so maybe we should put these blankets to wash. They are kind of soaked.”

“Yeah, you're right.” You softly chuckled and turned your head to plant a kiss on his lips as you lifted yourself off of him, feeling the warmth of cum drip down your inner thigh as his length slipped out of you.

Together, you and Tamaki stripped the drenched bedding from the mattress and tossed it to the floor before swiftly slipping your clothes back on. Anxious to get the stained materials clean, Tamaki rushed towards the washing machine, with you following behind him to help. 

While he stuffed the sheets into the wash as if on cue, the front door swung open and in walked Mirio, “Hey guys!” He chirped as he placed the takeout bags on the table. “Sorry, that took a little longer than expected.”

“It’s fine Mirio, didn’t even seem like that long. Thanks for the food.” You glanced over to him while you passed Tamaki the laundry soap.

“Aww, look at you two! Doing laundry together like some kind of married couple!” Mirio teased as he looked towards his best friend, “Guess you guys did have a lot of fun while I was gone, huh?”

“What are you talking about? Laundry isn’t all that fun...plus it isn’t something just married couples do.” Tamaki side-eyed Mirio while he poured the laundry detergent into the washing machine. You snickered at your boyfriend’s comeback and began heading towards the kitchen, leaving his side while he finished up in the laundry room.

“Haha! Good one Tamaki, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, look at you guys! Clearly you just-”

Directing your gaze, you could see the look of impending horror in your boyfriend’s eyes as he anticipated Mirio’s next words.

“Tamakiii!” You called out, purposely interrupting him in the middle of his sentence. “What did you order again?” You asked from the kitchen table, tilting your head in confusion and pretending not to know who’s food was who’s just so you could get Mirio to stop (as your boyfriend would say) tormenting him.

“Oh, let me help you!” Tamaki offered with a little more eagerness in his voice than what you were used to.

Smiling at just how adorable the two of you were, the blond giggled to himself as his friend hurried over to you. Placing his hand in yours, Tamaki gave it a gentle squeeze, silently thanking you for making his friend quiet down before giving him the opportunity to say anything too embarrassing.

Mirio didn’t mean to make him flustered but, gosh, the two of you were so obvious. He just couldn’t resist teasing. Although, maybe as a way to say sorry he would offer to go pick up some dessert, because who doesn’t enjoy eating something sweet after a delicious meal.

And surely you and Tamaki would appreciate some more alone time together.

        .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

God, I love Tamaki so much!!! Thanks for reading! Let me know if you enjoyed it, and leave a comment if you’d like (they make me super happy)  Also, I may have an idea for a part two. I’m thinking voyeur Mirio??

— please do not modify or repost my work

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain (4)

Chapter Four- Now or Never

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Your supposed ally leads you to an unlawful nation where danger lurks at every corner. Bucky starts to see you in a different light.

Warnings: Sexual objectification. Very bad undercover work. Calling Sam daddy. Sexual innuendos.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I am very humbled that people have been enjoying the story and liking it so far! This means to me a lot as a novice writer! ☺️

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, felt like I got more to expand for the Madripoor episode. I love to know what y’all think of it so far! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Five

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As Zemo made arrangements on his end, you did not know what to expect. You, Sam and Bucky were brought to the tarmac of a small private airport, your attention was brought to the private plane that Zemo was leading you towards.

Sam made a comment on Zemo’s wealth and the latter explained that he was practically royalty before the Avengers destroyed his country. Touché.

You took the seat right across from Zemo and you couldn’t help but put your guard up around the man. He could sense the tension all over your face and offered champagne to which you declined. You wanted to make sure you were fully sober around this guy.

As you looked on at the exchange he had with his steward, he almost looked decent for a moment. You wouldn’t have thought of this guy to be a manipulative and scheming man that caused that chain of events many years ago.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell.” Zemo started off after having a sip of his champagne. He then paused in his actions as he looked over all of you and corrected him.

“Oh that’s right, you all do. My apologies.” Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms as you leaned into the comfort of the plush aeroplane seat.

Sam tried to get Zemo to start talking but the baron brushed it off for a moment as he looked at a book in fascination. As Zemo brought up a familiar notebook, he asked who Nakajima was.

Your eyes perked up at the familiar name and you immediately turned to look at Bucky who instantly pounced on Zemo and grabbed him into a chokehold. Bucky warned him not to touch his notebook or he would actually kill Zemo, probably with his bare hands.

As Bucky settled down in his seat once more, you gave him a knowing look but he averted his eyes to avoid eye contact. The conversation then took a more light-hearted turn as Sam tried to describe how Steve noted down his suggestion of the Trouble Man soundtrack in the notebook that now was passed onto Bucky.

Sam asked if Bucky liked it too and the super-soldier replied that he liked 40’s music to which Sam look almost offended that Bucky didn’t share his taste in music. Bucky looked like he didn’t even want to bother but he clarified that he indeed liked it just to get Sam to back off.

Zemo decided to join in the conversation and put his two cents. Sam was surprised at how Zemo managed to eloquently describe the music style. Afterwhich, Sam went on to say how everyone loved Marvin Gaye while Bucky agreed that he did too.

Sam added that Steve adored the singer too. Hearing this, Zemo commented that Bucky must have looked up to Steve very much.

Yes, we all did. You wanted to add that in too.

Zemo, however, then took the liberty of giving his view on Steve. He talked about how dangerous it could be to idolize super soldiers like Steve and start to disregard their flaws, thus allowing him to not be held accountable for the repercussions that stem from his actions. Even if that meant the formation of movements, the fighting of wars, the loss of innocent lives.

Sam gave him a warning to better stop talking but Zemo continued on. When Zemo noticed how you started shaking your head in dissatisfaction, he gave a light chuckle before speaking directly to you.

“Miss Y/N. Contrary to my own personal views on enhanced individuals, I do find you fascinating, The files I read on you only make me more curious. Can I ask some questions?” You could feel the attention being put on you in the room and you grew slightly uncomfortable.

“What do you want?” Hoping to act nonchalant to mask your nervousness, you crossed your legs and leaned back into your seat.

“You have no family history. You grew up in an orphanage, am I right?” Nodding at the facts he laid out, Zemo carried on.

“You couldn’t have possibly been experimented on. You have gotten into any accidents?” You shook your head in response.

“Chemical exposure, radioactive bites, cosmic ray exposures….those are the possibilities that an ordinary person could obtain superhuman abilities according to the theories online.” Unimpressed, you continued to shake your head at him.

“Tell me. I’m curious.” You couldn’t entertain the likes of him but seeing how he was leaning in to wait for your answer, you gave an indifferent expression before speaking.

“It appeared out of nowhere. Someone committed arson in the local convenience shop where I was at the time. I was trapped with the elderly shopkeeper and I thought we were both going to die. A burning beam was falling onto us and I thought that was the end. I suddenly emitted a burst of energy that managed to put own the fire and incinerate the beam into ashes.” As you retold your story, memories of your fear from that time came back.

“The shopkeeper lost consciousness but I saw everything. I wasn’t sure if it was me but I ran away. I couldn’t’ return to the orphanage because I was afraid the police would find me. I lived on the streets for a week before my powers manifested again.” Your eyes fall to your fidgety hands, cracking your knuckles as it gave you some sort of relief.

“A kid was crossing the street without his mum knowing and a car was speeding on the road. I tried to reach out and pull him back in but the car was just inches away from us both. I caused a scene that couldn’t be ignored. S.H.I.E.L.D managed to find me and took me in.” Zemo’s eyes were tracking your every movement and expression in a way that Bucky didn’t like. As if you were something up for display and Bucky put his foot down.

He was getting protective of you and did not want Zemo to harbour any hidden intentions. Who knew what Zemo was thinking of?

Zemo spoke up before Bucky had the chance.

“Fascinating just fascinating. It’s like your powers had been dormant inside you all along. Are you even human?”

“Last time I checked, my blood is still red.” Your sarcastic response earned a laugh from Zemo and he stroked his chin as he continued to observe you quietly. Sensing he had more thoughts in his mind, you returned the questions back to him.

“You hate enhanced individuals so much, would you get rid of me if you had the chance?” Growing a smirk, Zemo wasn’t expecting you to ask him that and he was more than eager to give his reply.

“I am undecided, but you’re different. I can see you are more discreet than the others, just like Bucky over here.” Zemo made his final remark before he moved on to talking about the location that you were headed.

His words sunk in and you kept on thinking about how he hit the nail on the head.

Yes, you had to be more discreet. You could never proudly show off what you had, instead, you had to keep yourself hidden in order to protect yourself.

Recalling your S.H.I.E.L.D days, you remembered how you were told to keep your powers on a low profile by Director Fury himself.

Your lab results came back and it was discovered that you had a special gene in your DNA that could be identified. There weren’t any references or connections to existing research and findings so you were viewed almost as an abnormality.

It was then later discovered that your powers were connected to your life force and if you ever over-exerted yourself, you could possibly die. That almost happened back during the civil war between the Avengers. It was the first time you ever used your powers on a larger scale and you had even passed out at the end of the battle.

You remembered waking up in a hospital bed on the raft.

When you found refuge in Wakanda, you got to learn more about your powers with Shuri’s help. She believed as long as you trained your stamina and built up your strength, you could control your powers without ever worrying about being drained. That’s how you found yourself the privilege to receive special training with the Dora Milajae under King T’Challa’s request.

You definitely owed the Wakandans big time.

Seeing how you were uncharacteristically down, Bucky wanted to check in with you out of concern. However, he chose to restrain himself, thinking that you probably one to be left alone. He wished he could do more for you like you do for him.

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Before you knew it, you landed in Madripoor. An island nation that was lawless and dangerous, yet home to the darkest of black markets and underground businesses. Zemo said that all of you could not go in as yourselves and had to basically go in undercover.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter when Sam changed and came out in a fancy printed suit. He was to act as a real life promiscuous and rich man who really could have been his doppelgänger when you saw a picture of the man.

However, you weren’t one to laugh when Zemo asked you to act as one of Conrad Mack aka Smiling Tiger’s fling for the night. When you first received your outfit, you threw it back in Zemo’s face.

You were not the most comfortable with sexy and revealing clothing personally so you couldn’t imagine yourself wearing it at all. Zemo tried to convince you that Smiling Tiger’s women were all of a certain type so you had to go through with it in order to fit in.

Letting out a groan, you snatched the little champagne dress with an open keyhole back. The front was designed to give a loose look that shyly reveals your cleavage. The dress held onto your shoulders with thin straps and it overall gave the impression of a silk slip dress.

When you put it on, you wiped your clammy hands on the silk material and grimaced at how it barely covered your ass. You were grateful that the shoes you received had thick block heels as you had forgotten how to even walk in high heels anymore.

Swiping on the red lipstick for the final touch, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves as you looked in the mirror. You got this.

Stepping out of the changing room, you were met with the full attention of all three men and you put a finger up to warn them of making any unneeded comments.

“Damn Y/N. I mean this in the nicest way possible but this is an entirely different look for you. In a good way, of course.” Sam tried to compliment you seeing that you weren’t fully into your outfit.

“Thanks, Sam.” You knew his intentions were always pure and good, so you didn’t mind it much. As he and Zemo went off to discuss something, you saw that Bucky was still looking at you intently. He must think you look weird, you thought.

In all the years that Bucky have known you, it was the first time he has seen you looking like this. You always had gone for casual and comfortable looks in your daily life. The only time he has seen something different was when you put on your tailored suits for formal events.

He had to do a double-take when he saw how the little dress number hugged your figure in the right places.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t continue looking but his eyes fleeting quick glances when you were looking elsewhere. He always felt that you were one of the most beautiful people he knew on the inside, the fact that you could look past what he did and accept him for he was. He never felt that he had to pretend to be fine when you’re around because you were there to accept him for better or worst.

Seeing you now stirred up a different feeling inside of him. Why did you suddenly seem so attractive this time? He did not want to be that guy who viewed women differently because of the way they dressed. In fact, he was never the kind to like someone because of the way they look but more of how they make him feel.

However, observing how bashful and shy you look in front of him, Bucky suddenly felt rather nervous himself. He saw you taking a step towards and he swore his breath hitched as his mind was registering this scene in slow-motion.

Your hands came up to put his dog tags inside his black shirt before going for the zipper of his jacket. Your eyes fleetingly met his for a moment before you started saying something.

Bucky wasn’t able to process it as he was entirely focused on how you were casually helping him as you normally did, but his mind can’t help but think of it as an intimate gesture.

You continued to buckle up the belts of Bucky’s harness and couldn’t help but to relish in the act of caring for him. This was probably the only time you could fulfil your feelings of wanting to be close to him without crossing the line.

“All done.” Once you have adjusted the straps on his shoulder to make sure they were comfortable, you glanced to see Bucky looking down at you in a daze.

“Hey Buck, you there?” Calling for his attention, Bucky snapped back to reality as he saw you staring at him with a curious doe-eyed look. Clearing his thought, Bucky scrambled to recall what you had said and just continued looking at you in question.

You went on to ask if the straps were comfortable to which he nodded curtly. You grinned in satisfaction for a short moment before it fell into a tight-lipped smile.

“Bucky, are you really ok to go into character? I know how hard you worked to get away from all of that.” Implying how he had to act like the Winter Soldier for this undercover mission, Bucky took a deep breath before answering you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just for this mission.” You just silently nodded at his words before signalling that you two should get a move on.

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All of you were heading to Low Town as Zemo named to find his informant, Selby. Zemo reminded everyone to stay in character regardless of the situation, if not the mission would be compromised and your lives could be at risk.

Zemo gave you a personal warning to avoid using your powers if possible. If your powers were revealed publicly, there was a high chance you were at a bigger risk than the rest because people would want to take you for their own.

It was not every day an enhanced individual with superpowers walks into Madripoor and you would definitely become a prize to be coveted.

You were first greeted by the hustle and bustle of the nightlife crowd. The neon signs lit up the incredibly dark streets followed by the loud booming music that could be heard from some of the places that you passed. Your eyes were focused on Zemo’s back as he led all of you to the location, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else.

Entering the crowded bar, you could hear Zemo speaking Russian to Bucky. You weren’t familiar with the language but you could make out one world, Soldat.

Sneaking your arms around Sam who was caught off, you gave me a pointed look that told him that the undercover work starts now. He gave you a brief nod before rolling out his shoulders and you pressed yourself closer to him, putting your acting face on.

All of you stood by the bar where the bartender greeted all of you.

“Hello, gentlemen. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” The bartender nodded to Sam. His eyes moved over to meet yours before greeting you, Miss. You gave your best smile in return.

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby.” Zemo told the bartender. You could see the shift in his eyes and saw someone from out of the corner of your eye moving away. Shifting your stance, the bartender didn’t acknowledge Zemo’s words and glanced back to you again.

“New face?” His comment was directed towards Sam but seeing how Sam was hesitating, you realised that he hadn’t had much experience with undercover work at all. He was a military man not a spy or agent after all.

“Hopefully, the last.” You giggled shyly and looked up to Sam with an affectionate gaze before giving the bartender a wink.

The bartender nodded curtly before asking Sam (Smiling Tiger) if he wanted his usual. Sam nodded silently in an efforts to prevent himself from doing anything out of character.

You caught Bucky looking at you as he leaned sideways on the counter. Your silent exchange was a way for you two to check in with each other and a brief smile mirrored on both of your faces before you turn to see the bartender taking out a snake from a big jar.

Trying to control your expression at the disgust coming up your throat, you subtly swallowed heavily at the sight of how the bartender slit the snake open. Sam who had his back turned for a brief moment was shocked to see what was presented on the counter in front of him.

Zemo tried to continue to put on the act and acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Your global knowledge and several visits to Asia made you realised why this was the Smiling Tiger’s favourite. Snakes infused into wine was touted to be an aphrodisiac to help a man increase, ahem, stamina.

Bucky felt almost bad for Sam and looked away briefly. You could see Sam gulping down nervously when the bartender added the finishing touch to the drink and you gently rubbed his arm for emotional support.

“I love these.” Sam managed to say through gritted his teeth and clinked his glass with Zemo. Your own bile almost resurfaced and you quickly turned your head to hide your nervous gulp.

Putting up a thumbs up awkwardly, you wanted to facepalm when the bartender looked back at Sam with a dubious expression.

You knew you needed to do something so everyone’s covers won’t be blown. Putting on a sly smirk, you let a hand move up Sam’s chest slowly and sensually before resting it where his heart was.

“Looks like you and I will be in for a long night.” Adding a slight giggle, you pretended to act shy after you spoke your words. Sam was trying his hardest to not look bewildered at your act while Bucky was trying to suppress a sudden wave of annoyance that washed over him.

He knew that this was an act but he still didn’t like it for some reason. He had to admit that he was not expecting you to get into character so well, seeing that this image you were presenting was the furthest cry from who you actually were.

The bartender looked slightly less suspicious of all of you before he went away. You could feel Sam heaving a sigh of relief beside you and you did the same alongside him.

Another man came up to Zemo, telling him of how he was unwelcomed in the area. Zemo putting up a cool façade, explained he had no business with someone named the power broker. Zemo restated his business here once more before the guy left.

Zemo explained that the power broker runs Madripoor and it was best you all stayed under his radar. Moments passed before another guy came up behind Zemo and Zemo turned to Bucky talking in Russian once more.

The instant the man placed his hands on Zemo, Bucky went into winter soldier mode. Everyone’s attention was directed to the scene happening. The whirling sound of Bucky’s vibranium was heard clearly as he was nearly crushing the man’s hands and went ahead to knock him over.

More and more people started to gather fool’s courage to take on Bucky. You saw how he easily took down everyone with barely any sweat.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo commented to you and Sam, and in all honesty, you wanted to choke him like what Bucky was doing to another guy on the bar’s counter.

Hearing the continuous clicking of guns from everyone in the bar, your senses were now alert at the possibility of having to break character and use your powers.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered into your ear and grabbed onto your hand before you could even think of doing anything.

Zemo got Bucky to back down and the bartender told you all that Selby was ready for your visit. Sam checked in with Bucky to which he responded with a curt nod.

As you made your way along the back end of the bar, you could see the stacks of cash all over a table and the armed guards that filled up every corner of the room.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t come into my bar and make demands.” Selby turned out to look like what you would imagine her to be. She sat comfortably on her couch with a dominant presence and seemed like she was not someone easy to deal with.

Zemo tried to reassure her that he was making offers not demands to quell her mood. Selby asked how Zemo was able to escape from prison and Zemo replied smugly on how people like them always found a way.

As Zemo tried to shift focus onto the order of business, Selby wasn’t still into it. Making a comment about Sam’s taller than usual height, Sam not knowing what to respond just nodded in silence.

She even purred at him teasingly before her eyes landed on you.

“Who’s this pretty little thing you have here? Where are you from?” Selby’s eyes narrowed in as you sense everyone starting to look flustered by the unexpected question. You were just meant to play a background character but didn’t expect the sudden attention.

Biting your lips into a furtive grin, you snaked your hands around Sam’s biceps. “Daddy picked me up from the club that I was working at. He says I am his one and only now.”

The men all tried to stop their jaws from dropping to the floor at your sweetly coy act. Who were you?

“Hmm…” Selby hummed while she looked you up and down. “You can do better, sweetie,” Selby remarked smugly before giving a subtle gesture to herself.

Lips forming into an ‘o’, you feigned a surprised reaction at the flattery. You tried to send a flirtatious look back so that Selby would be in a better mood.

Your act was rewarded when Selby grinned wider and asked Zemo for his offer. In exchange for information on the super-soldier serum, Zemo was willing to trade Bucky in pretence. He added how he would give Selby the codes word to control Bucky, treating him like an object.

A wave of anger started rushing through you as the scene unfolded and you glanced to see how Selby became more intrigued.

“Hmm, I have plenty of strong men already working for me. What else can he offer?” Zemo was taken aback by Selby’s words, thinking that she would already be interested in Bucky.

As the men were grappling to come up with a good response, you went on your first instinct and spoke up.

“Well he is rather handsome, isn’t he?” Everyone’s focus turned onto you and you took a breath to continue as Selby gave you an expecting look.

“Not as handsome as my daddy here but-” Walking around Sam, you headed towards Bucky who was trying to look unbothered but dying of curiosity on what you were about to do.

“He seems like fun to play with.” You purred as you gazed at Bucky’s profile. You gestured for Bucky to face you and could see how he was still staying in character. Running your fingers down his five o'clock shadow, your eyes glinted as you batted your lashes flirtatiously before looking over your shoulder back at Shelby.

“You can’t help but imagine having a good time with him. Super soldier serum should have some perks, no?” Your hidden innuendo was loud and clear to everyone in the room. If this didn’t appeal to Selby, you didn’t know what will.

Sam was trying his hardest to maintain his expression as he couldn’t believe his ears. Never in a million years would he think the sweet and innocent Y/N he knew actually dared to speak like that.

Bucky did his best to tighten his jaw and continue his stoic facade to hide the shock from what you had just said.

Never did he thought you would take the situation to such a turn. Your improv was unexpected and he couldn’t believe the woman in front of him was actually you.

Your sudden bold and cheeky persona was doing something to him. Your innuendo about him started to make him feel hot in his ears. Bucky had to clench his fist tightly to get himself to hold it together as he felt his heart racing out of nowhere.

He didn’t know what was happening to him but he knew you were having some sort of effect on him.

“Of course, that’s my silly opinion.” Turning to face Selby with a mischievous smile to keep up your character, you noted her looking at you thoughtfully as she rubbed her chin.

“Not just pretty but you’re witty, aren’t you?” Selby noted as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. Satisfied with your input, Selby then revealed what she knew about the super-soldier serums.

Apparently, there was a doctor, Dr William Nagel who has been helping the power broker to create the serums here in Madripoor. When Zemo tried to probe further about Nagel’s location, Selby decided that Zemo was overstepping.

In the very next moment, you could hear a vibration of a phone and saw Sam reaching out to his jacket.

Great, all of your covers might be blown. Selby demands that Sam answered it on speaker. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. To carry on the act, Sam reluctantly proceeded to answer the phone.

A woman’s voice came up and in the next sentences spoken, you realised that she was his sister, Sarah. Oh boy, this wouldn’t end well. You closed your eyes in prayer as you hoped it can go over smoothly.

Taking a sharp intake of breath, you looked to see Bucky glancing down in shared unease. Sam was doing his best to make sure his cover won’t get blown. You thought all was going well but when you heard Sam’s name from Sarah, you knew you were all toast.

Selby immediately called for all of you to be killed and in that moment, all hell broke loose. Selby got shot in a blink of an eye and her guards were up in action. Bucky pushed you behind him protectively as he fought off Selby’s men.

Once all her guards are dealt with, Zemo called for weapons to drop and you took the back exit.

Making a swift escape, all of you tried to play it cool while taking long quick strides. The sound of the first gunshot made you jumped and sprang into a run. You saw Zemo took off in another direction but you didn’t have time for him.

You, Bucky and Sam decided to sprint ahead. “I can’t run in these heels.” Sam cried out and you retorted in annoyance.

“How do you think I feel? Mine’s twice as taller than yours!”

Bucky reached over to grab your hand and interlocked your fingers together. His super-speed was practically lifting you off the ground, dragging you like a rag dog.

"Hey! What the hell man? What about me?" Bucky ignored Sam's whining and focused on not letting your hand go.

Not knowing where you are headed, a sense of dread started pouring on you and you grew anxious by the second. People on motorbikes were starting to drive up behind you three.

You were wondering if it’s time to not give care and actually use your powers for real this time. All of a sudden, the two people on the bikes behind you have been shot by someone from above and you stopped in your tracks to locate that individual, fearing you were next.

Zemo reappeared from the shadows and claimed that you all might have a guardian angel.

“Drop it, Zemo.” The familiar voice brought relief as you matched it to the face that emerged into your sight.

Your smile at the thought of a friendly face faltered when she continued pointing a gun towards all of you. Sharon didn’t seem as pleased as you were. Turns out she had to fall off the grid and found herself in Madripoor after the turn of events many years ago.

"Y/N, is that you?" She took a double-take on you, probably not used to seeing you dress up like this.

"Hey." You awkwardly replied. The moment didn't last as Sharon trained her eyes on the men and continued to be hostile.

Your heart dropped as you hear her telling of how she was unable to be in contact with her family anymore. She had become a fugitive and still is. An immense amount of guilt washed all over you when she retorted about how she wasn’t backed by the Avengers.

You weren’t batch mates with Sharon back in S.H.I.E.L.D academy but you became friends when you crossed paths during work. You could not believe you haven’t reached out to her all this time.

Bucky pleaded with Sharon for her help and Sharon gave a thoughtful look at all of you. When she saw you with your uncomfortable expression, she gave a sighed and stated that she wasn’t done discussing the topic.

Offering refuge in her place at High Town, all of you accept it.

You sat beside her in the front and the two of you exchanged silent looks before she started the engine. What were the odds of seeing her again in Madripoor?

You hoped to be able to get a chance to talk to her later.

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Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @conflicted-noxsirius

[tired-truffle]

You Are My Synn

A LokixOC Fic

Word Count: 4.8k

Part 2/20

Masterlist

Synn could barely contain her energy. She was wiggling around in her chair, despite having been reminded many times to sit still. They were learning mathematics, something she had absolutely no interest in. The boredom made her feel antsy and anxious. She felt that if she had to sit there and listen to Uncle Birger drone on about numbers and equations for one more minute, she was going to tear her hair out or bang her head against the table. Maybe even both. 

Uncle Birger sighed, he knew Synn wasn’t doing it on purpose, but he wished she would listen. He was pretty sure that she hadn't retained a single thing he had said all day. He could see the dazed look in her eyes that meant she was off in her own little world, daydreaming again, only to come back to the present when he got her attention and immediately become restless. No matter how hard he tried, he was never able to get her to focus. He knew she had trouble with reading, the way she described it, like letters came alive and danced around the page, teasing her as she tried to make sense of it, he couldn’t blame her for getting frustrated. 

“Okay,” Uncle Birger finally relented to Synn’s relentless energy, “that will be all for today, you are both free to go.”

“Thank you, Uncle Birger!” Synn exclaimed, hopping up from her chair. 

“Can I go play with Frida?” Asta asked her father as Synn bolted for her room. 

“Of course, you can.” He told his daughter.

“And be safe, Synn! Make sure you’re home before dark!” He called as he watched his niece scurry away with her box of gardening tools. Synn didn’t look back as she ran out of the door, shouting an unintelligible acknowledgment as she did. He pinched the bridge of his nose, that child would be the death of him yet. 

Synn ran as fast as her legs could carry her. They lived close to the edge of the city, near the large forest that ran around the main town. She followed her usual path until she got to the marker, a cut-down tree stump with an ‘S’ she had carved into it. From there, she ran through the trees until she could not run any longer. It was only about ten minutes from her house, however, her father’s box of gardening tools was quite heavy. 

She could have made a garden for herself in the patch behind the bakery that her father had used, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask her aunt to give up tending to the one personal thing her father had left for his sister. She was more than okay with using her father’s gardening book to forge her own path. She only knew her father through the stories her aunt told her. While it saddened her to have had to grow up without her parents, she loved her Aunt Astrid and Uncle Birger just as much as she did them.

When she made it to the small clearing, she caught her breath and knelt down beside her small garden. Once her breath had returned to a regular pace, she began examining her plants. She quickly lost herself in their care, making sure they were well watered and had enough nutrients. She had a variety of flowers in her garden and one small berry bush. It was all she had been able to scrounge together with the tips she received from customers at the bakery. All she had to do was act cute and innocent when giving them their baked goods and they would leave her something extra. Her aunt and uncle would laugh to themselves, amused at how easy it was for Synn to charm the customers, knowing that she was not as innocent as she acted. Not a diabolical scheme, but funny nonetheless. 

Her favourite flowers were ones she had received from her aunt and uncle for her last birthday. They were called Moonflowers and just like the name would suggest, would only bloom under the moonlight, specifically the full moon. She loved to come out during the full moon and sit in awe as the flowers would open up and shine in the dim light. The only problem was that she wasn’t allowed out at night on her own, her aunt and uncle had made it very clear it was dangerous for her to be alone at night. That would have been fine but they never seemed to want to come out on the night of the full moon. They gave excuses like they had to work early the next day or they weren’t feeling well, and Synn understood, but she never failed to be disappointed. She had only seen them bloom twice so far, the memory of their beautiful petals opening up and revealing their hidden beauty was a treasured memory. 

Synn had taken to singing to her plants. One of the customers had suggested it to her a few weeks ago. The woman told her that plants like to hear not only her speaking voice but her singing voice as well. Synn had marvelled at the idea that her plants could listen and had taken to talking and singing to her plants, hoping it would help them grow up big and strong. She would often pretend she was talking to her parents or imagine them singing a lullaby to her as she was to the plants. She was no fantastic singer, but she could carry a tune with some accuracy. She would definitely never sing in front of people, but in the forest on her own, surrounded by the calming presence of her garden, she felt comfortable being herself. 

While Synn was in the process of kneeling in front of and singing a lullaby to her berry bush, a strange shadow fell over the garden. She stopped singing and blinked, not recognizing the odd cylindrical shape. The sound of someone clearing their throat got her attention. She jumped, having been startled by the sudden sound, falling over and gracelessly hitting her butt off the ground. 

Synn looked up at the intruder. She had been so entranced with her garden that she didn’t hear them come close. The person who had so rudely interrupted her was a boy around her age. He had jet black hair that was slicked back tightly against his head, stopping just below his ears. His eyes were a light but piercing green and his gaze just as intense. He had on green, gold, and black robes that complimented his features. He held himself with an air of sophistication, holding his head high and his shoulders perfectly straight.  He was only a few feet from her and was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to speak first. When Synn did nothing but stare up at him he rolled his eyes. 

“Can’t you speak, village girl?” He asked, judgment clear in his voice. 

“You clearly just heard me singing, why wouldn’t I be able to speak.” Synn retorted, sitting back on her calves. He had been the one to interrupt her, why was he the one acting as if she was the one in the wrong? She’d been using this space to garden for a few years and no one had bothered her here before, how and why had the boy come here?

“What are you doing?” The boy asked. 

“I don’t think I’ll tell you,”  Synn crossed her arms and looked away from the boy, nose lifted high in the air, “If you are going to be rude then you can leave.” 

Synn pointed back behind the boy, assuming that was the way he had come from. There was silence for a moment, the boy standing beside her, looking at her incredulously. He had never had someone, other than his parents and brother, be so abrupt with him before, let alone someone not answer his question. Who was this girl and why did she think she could treat him like any other commoner? Did she not know who he was? How much trouble she could be in for addressing him in such a course manner?

It occurred to him that he was rather far from the palace, there was a chance that the children here wouldn’t recognize him. It wasn’t every day that he was treated as though he wasn’t a prince. Briefly reflecting on his interactions with other children in the palace, he realized that this girl’s obliviousness to who he was had presented an opportunity. While he did enjoy having superiority over his peers, he did find himself longing for someone to be unafraid of him and the power he held. Getting his way was lovely, but he felt unstimulated in those interactions, with no one to use his intellect against. Finally, he had someone challenge him and backing down wasn’t in his nature.

“I’m Loki,” He said with a small bow. “I apologize for my impertinence before, I will not do it again.” The boy, Loki, held out his hand. Synn looked at him with a side-eyed glance and huffed lightly when she realized he wasn’t going to leave her alone. 

“I’m Synn.” She reached out to shake his hand. Loki grimaced as he realized that her dirt-covered hand had now infected his and subtly wiped it away when she let go. Before he could rethink his decision to pretend he was a regular child, Loki sat down beside Synn, earning him a raised eyebrow, however, she said nothing and went back to her gardening work. Her berry bush required some trimming. 

“What flower is this?” He asked, pointing to the flower in front of him. 

“A moonflower.” Synn didn’t so much as a glance in his direction. Loki reached out to touch the flower bud, tapping it on top. It wasn’t opened like the rest of the flowers, Loki figured it was probably defective. 

“It doesn’t seem like a particularly interesting flower, it’s only a closed bud.” Loki mused. Synn hummed in response, not really listening to him. She had no idea why this odd boy was still in her garden. Loki reached down, and before Synn could realize what he was doing, he picked one of the moonflowers, tearing it from the stem. 

“What are you doing!” Synn demanded, jumping to her feet, fists balled tightly at her sides. Those were her special flowers, who did this boy think he was? You can’t just pick flowers out of someone else’s garden. Loki’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mouth opening slightly in shock. He hadn’t expected her to react so strongly, it was just a flower after all. 

“It’s not blooming like the rest of the garden, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Loki was sincere, he hadn’t meant any harm by it. He had only been trying to find a way to make Synn pay attention to him, “I thought I could fix it.”

Synn deflated slightly, still feeling frustrated, but she could see the genuine look on his face. Had Loki never learned anything about plants? If he had he would know that picking it would do the opposite of fixing it. 

“It’s a moonflower, it only blossoms under a full moon, that’s why the petals aren’t open. They’re my favourite flower and I work very hard to keep them happy.” Synn tried her best to keep the irritation from slipping into her voice but found herself failing, “Besides, how would picking it help fix it? You’ve just killed it.” 

“I can fix it,” Loki said, matter-of-factly, “Watch.” 

Synn put her hands on her hips, highly doubting he’d be able to do anything to revive the plant, but humoured him nonetheless. Loki held the flower out with one hand, the severed stems lining up, and waved his other hand over the top of the bud. A green shimmer shone in the air as he did so, and to Synn’s surprise, the stem fused back together again. Synn stood there, slack-jawed and in awe, she had never seen anything like that before. She knelt back down beside the flower and gingerly touched the stem where it had been broken. It felt whole again. Synn glanced back at Loki who had an expectant look on his face. 

“How did you do that?” Synn asked. 

“Magic.” Loki was smug, he couldn’t help himself when others were intrigued by his skill.

 “I’ve never seen magic before, can you do any other tricks?” Synn asked. She was so excited by the sudden use of magic, that she had forgotten all about her irritation towards him. She had forgiven him without thought. Not only had he fixed his mistake, but done so in a way that intrigued her more than she would like to admit. The forgiving nature of ten-year-olds had its perks. 

“Only if you ask nicely,” Loki smirked.

Synn gave him an unimpressed look, “Pretty please.”

“We’ll have to work on the enthusiasm,” He mused, “But it is acceptable for now.” He had decided that since it was Synn’s first experience with magic he would take it easy, he was enjoying the rapt attention she had just started giving him and didn’t want to scare her away. 

Watching Loki show her magic trick after magic trick had Synn squealing with delight and excitedly asking him every question she could think of. Time seemed to fly by, her garden neglected for the time being, this was much more important. 

As the hours wore on, Loki showed her one of his favourite tricks: fireworks popping out of his palm. Synn watched with rapt attention, the colours reflecting in her wide eyes. 

“Who taught you that?” Synn asked.

“My mother, she’s taught me most of what I know.”

“She must be pretty amazing.” Synn smiled, tearing her eyes away from the fireworks to smile at him. 

“She is,” Loki boasted, “what about your mom, is she the one who taught you to garden?”

“It was my dad’s interest in gardening that got me into it,” Synn responded, the smile sliding off her face, “though he didn’t teach any of it to me, I read it in his old books. My parents fought in Odin’s Army and they died when I was a baby. I live with my aunt and uncle who own the family bakery now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss.” Loki closed his hand, the fireworks disappearing. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s not like you killed them.” Synn shrugged, people apologized to her whenever they heard about her parents. She didn’t understand it, she didn’t want their pity, it was just a fact of her life, “The Frost Giants are the ones that killed them. I don’t remember them anyways and I love my aunt and uncle, plus I get to live with my cousin Asta and she’s pretty great.” Synn explained, quickly burying the stinging feeling in her chest. She was used to the feeling, she missed them every day, while it pained her, she continued to carry it, surrounding those negative feelings with the love she had for her aunt, uncle, and cousin. She didn’t want anyone to feel burdened by her emotions, they had enough of their own to deal with, and she didn’t want people to think she was complaining about her life. 

Loki nodded in understanding. He had heard stories from his father about the war with the Frost Giants, it had taken many lives. 

The sun had begun to set. Synn sighed, knowing her aunt and uncle would want her home soon. 

“You can’t stay out past dusk?” Loki asked when she informed him of the house rule.

“I’m not supposed to be out here alone at night.” Synn shrugged, she didn’t like breaking rules. She had lost track of time before and the disappointed look on her aunt and uncle’s face was all that was needed to make sure she never did it again. 

Loki didn’t want their time together to end. He had enjoyed Synn’s company. The awed attentiveness she paid him was gratifying and he had found her honest and bubbly personality strangely charming. She was oblivious but smart and kind in her own way. She was different from those at the castle who tended to shy away from him. She was not afraid to get close to him or ask him question after question, even if he found that part a bit annoying, the pure curiosity in her eyes was endearing enough to make up for it. The way her nose would scrunch when she giggled at her own jokes or when she treated him like just another kid without fear of repercussions… Well, he wasn’t quite sure how it made him feel, but he knew he didn’t want that feeling to end. 

“Can I meet you here again?” Loki asked, “There is a full moon this weekend, perhaps you could show me the Moonflower?”

“Yes!” Synn exclaimed, “I would like that.” 

She felt excitement build in her chest as she thought of being able to show someone knew her favourite flower, only to have her bubble burst when she remembered her aunt and uncle’s rule.

“But I’m not supposed to be out at night on my own.” Synn hung her head in disappointment. Loki considered this for a moment, coming up with the perfect scheme. Schemes were his specialty after all.

“Well you won’t be alone, will you? I’d be here.” He pointed out.

“That could work” Synn smiled shyly at him. Loki was right, her aunt and uncle had not specified that she had to be with them, simply that she was not supposed to go alone. She would not technically be breaking any rules and her conscience would be clear. 

“I will see you here at sunset?” Loki asked. 

“Yes,” Synn confirmed, “I will see you then.” 

The two children parted ways with a wave, excited at the prospect of spending more time together, though Synn would be lying if she said she was not more excited to see the Moonflowers again. She had enjoyed spending time with Loki, he was a little strange at first but it seemed to her that he hadn’t had much of a chance to be a real kid. She had been taught by her aunt and uncle that children from rich families were often expected to be proper and poised at all times, showing off the best of their family. It left little time to play and enjoy things that Synn took for granted, like playing tag through the Bakery with Asta. From his fancy clothing and access to magic lessons, she assumed he must come from a wealthy home. She was more than happy to teach him how to enjoy his childhood in exchange for showing her magic tricks and allowing her the chance to see her moonflowers bloom.

 Synn ran back home with her gardening toolbox, falling asleep that night as soon as her head hit the pillow, the excitement of the day had exhausted her. 

The day that she was set to meet Loki again went at a horribly sluggish pace. To fill the time Synn and Asta played around the backyard and took breaks to head into the store and talk with their favourite customers. It had been relaxing, yet Synn was still buzzing with excitement. Her family gave her some curious glances but said nothing. Synn’s tendency to have random bursts of energy made her family quite used to her behaviour. 

The girls were tucked into bed as the sun started to set, Astrid and Birger giving them both a kiss on the head before bidding them goodnight. Synn waited, listening closely as her cousin’s breaths became quieter and farther apart. Once her aunt and uncle’s door closed, the sun had completely set.

Synn hopped out of bed, hastily threw her clothes back on, and tip-toes as quiet as a mouse out of the house. While she knew she was technically not breaking the rules, she was pretty sure her aunt and uncle would change them if she was caught, and she was too focused on seeing her moonflowers again to care. 

By the time Synn arrived at the garden, panting from her sprint, Loki was already waiting for her. 

“What took you so long?” He asked, hands on his hips. “I could have been eaten by a wild beast and no one would ever know how valiantly I fought.” He mimed sword fighting with the poise of someone who had more theatre teachings than real-life fighting practice. Yes, he was a spoiled rich kid. Synn would have to take it upon herself to teach him how to relax a little. Still, she let out a breathless laugh at his antics.

“Sneaking out wasn’t easy, you know,” Synn wheezed and bent over to put her hands on her knees. “I got here as quick as I could. The Moonflowers don’t bloom until the full moon hits them anyway so we have some time.”

The two children sat down in front of the Moonflowers, waiting patiently as the moon rose in the sky, slowly casting its soft glow over the garden. Synn nudged Loki to make sure he was paying attention when the flowers started to bloom. Loki looked over at Synn, the anticipation palpable on her face. Her light blonde curls shone in the glow of the moonlight, lighting it up in an almost ethereal way. Her skin looked soft and her eyes a dark grey. Loki watched her for a moment, unable to look away.

“Don’t look at me!” Synn exclaimed, having looked over at him to make sure he was paying attention. She grabbed Loki’s chin and pointed his face at the garden. “Look at the flowers.”

Synn pointed to the flowers as the small pale buds opened up to show off their startlingly white, soft petals that were spotted with blue swirls. The center was a honey yellow, and the moonlight made it look like there were sparkles all throughout it.

“Beautiful,” Loki murmured, looking back at Synn. Her smile was blinding, and Loki found himself unable to think of much else.

“I love how they don’t open up until the light hits them perfectly. It’s like they are holding themselves back so that they can startle you with how beautiful they are all at once,” Synn gushed, still staring at the garden. Loki shook his head lightly, knocking himself out of the thoughts that had enveloped his mind.

“Yes, the flowers, very nice,” Loki said, blushing slightly as his heart hammered in his chest. Synn, being as oblivious as she was, had not noticed. 

She flopped back onto the ground, looking up at the night sky. She sighed deeply and patted the ground next to her, signalling for Loki to lie down as well. Loki did as asked and quickly found a way to distract himself from his earlier feelings. 

“What do you know of the constellations?” Loki asked her.

“Not much,” Synn waved her hand in disinterest, Birger had droned on about the stars, but Synn hadn’t been paying much attention, “Uncle Birger has tried to teach us about them many times, but remembering their positions is so boring.”

Loki chuckled, Synn cutting him off as she continued her train of thought. 

“I can’t stand being bored, I’d much rather be out here, or even baking in the store, at least I get to do stuff. Learning about the names and positions of the constellations and the galaxies they contain has never had much of a pull for me.” 

“My mom taught me stories to help me remember them, perhaps that would be of interest to you?” Loki offered, chuckling at Synn’s exasperation for learning.

“I love stories!” Synn gasped, looking at Loki, her hands pressed together, giving him her best pouty lip and innocent eyes. “Please, please tell them to me.”

“You know I did offer to tell you the stories, you don’t have to beg.” Loki drawled, a grin plastered on his face.

Loki spent the next hour telling Synn about the constellations. Synn oohing and aahing at the right moments to encourage Loki to continue. When Loki came to the end of his stories, the two sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the beautiful, clear, starry sky, and the still blooming flowers at their feet. After a moment Synn spoke up.

“Thank you for telling me those stories, I really enjoyed them.” Synn suddenly felt nervous. While their relationship had gotten off to a rocky start, Synn had found that she enjoyed Loki’s company. Once she had gotten past his rough exterior, he was rather fun to have around.

“Anytime, Synn,” Loki said. She looked over at the boy beside her. His hair and clothes had been slightly ruffled from laying on the ground for so long. She found herself liking that she got to see him like this, he was so put together when they had first met, it was nice to see the kid behind the fancy robes.

“Doyouwanttobemyfriend?” Synn rushed out. She’d never asked someone to be her friend before, there weren’t many other kids her age around, and the ones that were were not ones that she enjoyed hanging out with, outside of a couple of games here and there. Asta was her friend, but that felt different, she was also her family. 

“What?” Loki looked over at her, furrowing his brow. Synn took a deep breath and tried again.

“Do you want to be my friend?” Synn asked, a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“I don’t have any friends.” Loki deadpanned. For a moment Synn’s heart dropped in her chest, she had thought that a rejection of friendship was possible but she had truly believed that Loki had at least moderately enjoyed her company. Loki, seeing the heartbroken look on her face, quickly realized what he had accidentally implied. He propped himself up on his elbow, turning to look down at her, one hand waving off what looked to be tears welling in her eyes. 

“I meant that I don’t have any friends, but I would like one. I would like to be your friend, Synn.” Loki grinned apologetically. He could punch himself he felt so dumb, what happened to his silver tongue? All the charm he had with everyone else dropped away as soon as he was with Synn. He had only known her for a couple of days and already she had taken hold of him and clouded his thoughts with unfamiliar feelings.

“Oh,” Synn said. They both lay there awkwardly for a moment before Synn smiled wide.

“Well I’m glad you accept, you won’t be getting rid of me now. No takesies backsies.” Synn pushed Loki playfully, making him work hard to keep his balance.

“Whatever will I do now that I am in this lifelong binding contract?” Loki rolled his eyes, a smile on his face.

“Deal with it.” Synn stood up, offering Loki her hand. Loki took it and Synn pulled him up before releasing him. 

“I’ll see you next week?” Synn asked. 

“Do I have a choice?” Loki teased. Synn laughed and shook her head. No, he did not.

Loki started to turn away, heading back home, before Synn impulsively rushed in and wrapped her arms around his middle in the most surprising hug he’d ever received. Synn was known for her tight hugs and Loki coughed as the air was squeezed out of him. It was too quick for Loki to react and before he could move or say anything, Synn was running off, but not before shouting back at him.

“Thank you for being my friend!”

Synn didn’t look back, running until she reached the path and then walked the rest of the way home. If she had she would have seen Loki, standing in the opening, with a wide smile covering his face. She was awkward but sweet and Loki had to admit that she had a certain charm to her. She was easy to get along with and Loki found he couldn’t imagine not wanting to be around her, her simple joy giving him a view of life he hadn’t known he needed. 

When Synn arrived home, she opened the door as quietly as possible, tip-toeing across the creaky wooden floor. She was almost in her bedroom, thinking she had made it undetected when a light flicked on in the kitchen. The light lit up the room, illuminating the figure of her aunt sitting at the kitchen table, her face set in disappointment. 

“And where have you been?” Astrid asked, her voice implying that she was well aware of where Synn was. Synn, knowing she wasn’t going to get out of this, gave her aunt her best innocent smile, looking coyly up at her through long, dark lashes.

“Sleepwalking?”

A/N: Synn has ADHD and Dyslexia, thank you for coming to my TedTalk

Next Chapter

[jtargaryen18]

Don’t Make Me Wait

Anonymous asked:

This just came to mind, what if Curtis found a toy for himself that starts with the letter F or just uses his hand instead of doing it with the reader bc she is pregnant and he is afraid of hurting the baby or her. Dont know why I thought about this, but there you go, goodnight. Waiting for Ransom's and Bucky's story. 💞

Don’t Make Me Wait

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ only Warnings: Explicit sexual content, gratuitous toy use, fluff Relationships: Curtis Everett/Reader

4.8k of pretty much smut

A/N: This one-shot is tied to Out of Darkness and features Curtis and the reader from that story. I envision this in the future where the group found a village and the reader isn’t far from giving birth. That being said, the events/surroundings of this one-shot may or may not happen in the primary story. 

Chapter 13 of OoD is coming up next. 

~~~

When the smoke cleared, the group was able to make the village their own. It took a lot of work on everyone’s behalf, but they got it done, made the small collection of homes livable.

Curtis didn’t think his position in the group entitled him to anything above and beyond what anyone else had but Park, Harvey, David and several of the others pretty much insisted that he take one of the nicer homes in the center of the village. He didn’t say anything for several days. Finally, they just moved what few belongings he had there one day. His girl followed suit, so he went along.

They said he needed the space for his growing family. That reminder never failed to bring a smile to his face.

Sure, there were uncertainties with no doctor but that had been their reality from the tail section for a long time. But his girl was choosing not to focus on any of that as she went about trying to put together a home for them. She did too much, going against his orders often. He didn’t mind her sweeping or dusting. He couldn’t count how many times he’d caught her moving things she shouldn’t.

Each time he caught her, he was firm with her. Sometimes more so than he should have been. Curtis remembered good and damn well the women who’d been pregnant in the tail section. The ones who were careful and didn’t overdo it? Almost always fared better when it came time to give birth. The ones who chose to go along as if they weren’t carrying a baby? He remembered a few times those births hadn’t gone so well.

Curtis refused to accept a scenario where his girl or their baby would be anything but perfectly healthy. If that meant he had to hurt her feelings or manage her...

It limited him, but he had to stay close to the house to keep an eye on her. The birth was three months away and he wasn’t taking any chances. The things he wanted to do around the village could be put off or delegated until after his baby was born.

But staying closer to her didn’t help with his other problem…

Curtis couldn’t remember a time in the tail section when he’d thought anything of seeing a pregnant woman. One day, when it was time for the birth, there were things to manage. That was the extent of his involvement or interest in that

He didn’t know if it was because it was his child, his girl? But it brought out desires he wasn’t aware he had.

Sure, there were moments when she was adorable to him, her balance and gait a little off with her swelling tummy. He loved the protective way her hands smoothed over the swell of her that held their child. Now that he could feel the tiny movements from within her, he never minded when she waved him over, letting her smooth the palm of his hand over her so he could feel the faint kicks in there. It made his heart swell with hope. Made him happy.

There were other moments when it wasn’t lost on him that part of him was growing inside her. As wary as he’d always been about sex and potential pregnancy on the train, now just the thought of his girl, carrying his baby, fed deeper desires. The thought that she was filled with him, growing more each day, drove him crazy.

Curtis was so grateful for the houses they had now, the privacy. He didn’t miss a chance to get her naked beneath him. He loved watching her body change. Her breasts were larger, fuller. Her tummy swelled, her skin so tight. She felt different to him now. She smelled different, the taste of her… He couldn’t get enough. Being inside her now, filling her even more, got him harder than anything.

And her hormones were a friend to him. There were times she would initiate things, always so shy with him. But he always knew what she wanted. And he gave It to her.

Curtis wasn’t unhappy at all that she wanted him more often now. He tried, he really did, to be careful with her. It worried him no matter how many times she promised him their sensual activities wouldn’t hurt the baby. The losses he’d seen in the tail section still lingered in the back of his mind. He couldn’t lose her. And he knew how much she wanted the child.

Honestly, he did too.

It also worried him because his hunger for her had only escalated and she tired easily now. Once the baby arrived, he’d have to take care of himself for a time…

They’d been going through the belongings of the previous owners of the house for a few days. So wasn’t it ironic as he was going through boxes in the attic of the house he’d been given when he ran across that box…

Okay, Curtis had heard of most of the things he found in that neat metal box. He knew what most of it was. It’s just that he’d been seventeen when he’d boarded the Snowpiercer. His experience with sex toys was limited to locker-room humor and dirty jokes. He’d never actually seen any of it.

Grateful his girl was off at Rachel and David’s house for a little while, Curtis sorted through the carefully stored items. Cuffs with chains, ball gags, and vibrators in varying sizes, types, and colors. There were blindfolds, nice nylon cords. Whoever lived there before had very particular things they liked, and the items were all obviously top-quality. Very expensive.

Oh, the thought of playing with this girl using the items in the box had him aching. Most of it he wouldn’t even consider using until she was recovered from childbirth. But he had promised to chain her to his bed before, hadn’t he? It was just too easy to picture her all tied down for him, aching for anything he was willing to give her…

He frowned at the vibrators. It was unlikely that any of the batteries survived the extreme cold, much less the time in storage. When he checked, he found that no batteries were left in the devices. The batteries were stored separately. Pulling a silver bullet vibrator from the box, the small metal device winked in his hand, Curtis found a battery in a different compartment and gave it a try, not expecting anything.

But it worked, the device coming to life in his hand with a powerful vibration.

Placing that to the side, Curtis delved further into the box. One particular item caught his eye…

There were cruder names for it, but he recognized it as a fleshlight. That might come in handy. Especially since he seemed to be making up for eighteen years of near celibacy with his girl.

The flashlight shaped device was crafted to feel like the inside of a pussy and running a finger inside it, it absolutely did. The material, the ridges inside… Curtis decided it could be very handy to him once the baby arrived. His girl would need time to heal, to look after their baby.

There was a large bottle of alcohol for cleaning, different lubricants. Curtis found himself the owner of his very own sex toy collection including directions in Russian that he couldn’t read. That had him chuckling. Taking the two items he’d picked out, he set about cleaning them, not that it was hard. They were immaculately kept and barely looked used. Maybe they hadn’t been.

Curtis lost track of time. Finally, he finished up, tucking most of the collection away. Taking two items he kept out and one of the unopened tubes of lubricant with him, he headed to the bedroom he’d just gotten cleaned up and arranged for her. There was a nice bed with a decent mattress and box spring. The sheets he’d washed yesterday at the river, hung out to dry on the lines Park set up. The bed was made, clean. The rest of the room looked bare aside from a bedside table, an oil lamp and rugs next to the bed for her.

It was a huge improvement over what they’d had since he found her. It was important to him that she had a comfortable, warm place to sleep. He already had a fire glowing in the fireplace. Park had helped him contrive an arm over the fire to hang a metal pot which he thought might come in handy when the baby arrived.

He thought of a good use for it now. Curtis was back in just a couple of minutes with an old-fashioned iron kettle, filled with water to hang over the fire.

“Curtis?”

He smiled hearing her walking into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her.

“This looks wonderful,” she mused. “It’s been years since I had a bedroom like this.”

“Yeah, well, you have to share it,” Curtis pointed out.

She hummed contentedly and moved closer.

“We found a building on the edge of the village with a dirt floor,” she said in a tone that let him know she was unsure. “Maybe we could make a greenhouse out of it? Park thinks adjustments could be made to the roof and he could add some glass or plastic panels… Depends on what we can find.”

Curtis didn’t say anything. He wanted her a little off-balance for what he had in mind.

Just as he wanted, she walked around the bed to him, her hair mussed from the wind and the smell of winter clinging to her. The bedroom was nice and warm though.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her gaze moving over him frantically. “Curtis?”

He smiled at her, knowing she was confused.

Curtis watched her gaze move over him before moving on to the items on the bed next to him. Her smile was tentative, he knew she was trying to figure out what they were. Her hand slid up to swell of her tummy. It was a gesture she used often. That she was so protective of their baby was endearing.

“What are those?” she asked, her gaze meeting his.

Grabbing the front of her coat, Curtis carefully pulled her closer to him, standing her between his knees.

“Something I thought we could try out,” he told her, his hands moving up to unbutton her coat. He pushed it back off her shoulders, revealing the plain blue dress she wore beneath.

In all the clothing they’d harvested from the train, no one had found anything like maternity clothes, so his girl’s wardrobe choices were limited to looser dresses and a couple pair of thermal underwear that Curtis found for her.

“How are you feeling?”

He watched her lips curve into a smile, her eyes darkening on him.

“I’m good,” she assured him, her arms going around his neck to steady herself. He didn’t miss the way she licked her lips nervously. “What… did you have in mind?”

The simple blue dress she wore buttoned up the front, and he worked at opening those buttons, pressing his lips to her warm skin as he revealed it. He loved the way she shivered in his arms. Making quick work of the dress, he dropped it to the floor. He pulled the thermals down her legs, leaving her panties on.

Curtis couldn’t resist plucking her bra off and pressing his face into her breasts. He loved the rich laugh it earned him because he knew his beard tickled her. He couldn’t resist getting his mouth on them, enjoying the larger swell of them while her pregnancy advanced. Her nipples seemed so much more sensitive now too which he took full advantage of.

Maybe it was all the attention he paid them. When her hands slid down to push off her panties, Curtis stopped her by gently taking her hands in his.

“Leave them,” he muttered. “For now.”

Oh, he could see the surprise in her expression.

Scooping her up, Curtis placed her in the center of the bed before hastily shedding his own clothing. As he did, he watched her gaze roam over to the sex toys he’d found.

“You can take a closer look,” Curtis told her, grinning. He had his pants and boxers down and off along with his socks.

When he climbed up on the bed with her, she had the fleshlight in her hand. She was looking it over curiously. He knew the minute she guessed at its purpose. Her big eyes rounded, and her smile faded as she looked up at him.

“So you want to use this… instead of…”

He could practically see the doubts running through her head and cursed himself for not thinking about how better to present the idea of trying toys in the bedroom. Of course her mind wouldn’t go to “hey, this will be great when I’m healing from having the baby.”

“I u-understand,” she stammered, dropping her gaze.

Curtis plucked it out of her hand before pulling her into his lap and getting on eye level with her.

“No, Sweetheart,” he whispered against her soft lips. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea here.”

“But I do… get it,” she said slowly.

Her eyes gleamed in the firelight. Had he made her cry?

“What do you get?” Curtis whispered, pressing heated kisses over her hair and face. “Sweetheart, no sex toy is replacing you if that’s what’s in your head.”

She sniffled, her gaze searched his like she wasn’t sure she believed him.

“What the hell would make you think that?” he wanted to know.

She huffed out a breath. “Curtis, look at me…”

He couldn’t help smirking at her. “Believe me, I am.”

“No.” Shaking her head, she tried to climb out of his lap. Withdrawing from him, trying to, was something she did when she let doubts run through her head.

Hanging onto her, he wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her. He just hoped one day she’d let those fears go. Curtis loved her. He’d tell her that as many times as he needed to. He was just fucking grateful that she was his.

Her hands smoothed over the swell of her tummy.

“I’m so big right now,” she whispered. “And… I just meant that I’d understand… if you wanted to… use that until…”

Curtis needed to pull her out of her head. Chaining kisses up the slim column of her throat, he felt her shiver as he teased her with his lips. He let her feel the warmth of his breath in her ear before he spoke directly into it, a low whisper.

“Does it feel like I don’t want you?” Curtis nudged his very hard cock up into her, feeling the wet heat of her through the simple cotton panties he’d made her keep on.

The way her mouth fell slightly open, her eyes slid closed. He couldn’t resist doing it again.

Dropping one hand, he smoothed it over her rounded belly. She’d been curvy to begin with but aside from a little extra padding around her hips, her larger breasts, and the belly she was supposed to have, his girl was as gorgeous as she’d ever been.

Curtis teased her ears, her neck in the sensitive hollows he’d mapped out, the line of her shoulders.

“I’d rather be inside you than anything or anyone else,” he promised her.

She shivered in his arms, her defenses dropping.

“But there will come a time when I can’t have you,” he went on, painting her skin with his lips and tongue slowly. “When that time comes, maybe we can still enjoy things.”

That caught her off guard. “You mean… you’d use it with me there or—”

“I wouldn’t have laid it out tonight for us if I didn’t mean to share it with you,” he said, pressing forward to claim her mouth in a searing kiss. He took his time, enjoying a deep taste of her. “I found one for you too.”

Curtis expected that protest, held onto her as she tried to shift away from him.

“Shhh,” he pulled back to whisper in her ear. “Do you trust me?”

Her little hands clutched at his forearms, his hands. “You know I do, Curtis,” she said awkwardly. “But I don’t think—”

“Don’t want you to think,” he cut her off, his lips blazing a trail down her chest. “I want you to trust me.”

“Oh,” she breathed out, tensing when his mouth closed around her nipple.

Curtis teased her with his tongue and lips, loving the way she squirmed now when he did that. How she’d grab for him with her hands in his hair. His girl would literally push herself against him now, craving what he gave her.

It went to a man’s head.

He was able to reach behind him for the bullet vibrator without stopping his tender assault. Flicking his tongue against the tight point of her nipple had her hanging on, a perfect distraction as his hand dove into her panties, the vibe tucked against his palm with a thumb.

She was so slick and hot, it had him aching. Later. Using the pads of his fingers, he teased her clit carefully while his mouth moved to the other breast. Her hands clutched in his hair, her body tensed and ready for him in the best way.

When he slid the vibe into her panties, he carefully placed it at her folds and let the cotton hold it in place.

Her eyes were big on him and she licked her lips nervously. “Curtis?”

“Shhh,” he soothed her. “I need you to keep that in place for me. Right there. Do you understand?”

His girl looked confused and concerned but she wanted to please him. Slowly, she nodded.

Curtis turned it on, the lowest setting, holding her still and teasing her breasts with his mouth as it hummed to life against her most intimate flesh. At first, he knew she fought it, trying to ease away from the gentle vibration.

After a couple of moments, him teasing her nipples all the while, he felt her accept it. He would have said relax into it, but she didn’t look very relaxed. Her breaths and moans grew a little more desperate.

Curtis carefully placed her on the bed next to him before reaching for the fleshlight and the tube of lubricant. Pulling out the flesh-colored inner sleeve, he handed it to her.

“Warm this up for me, Sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear. “There’s water on over the fire.”

Her eyes had darkened, her lips parted in her excitement.

“Don’t make me wait,” he told her.

Nodding, she eased out of his hold and off the bed. He kept his hands on her to help her balance.

Curtis loved the way the light from the flames played over her body as she made her way to the fire. The quiet hum of the toy between her pussy lips was the only sound in the room. She walked gingerly and he knew the toy was hitting her different ways as she walked.

Carefully, she dropped the sleeve into the opening at the top of the kettle, before turning back to eye him curiously. Yeah, she was worried about how this was going to go. But not enough that she wasn’t going to give in to him. Her hormones and the extra stimulation held her hostage to his whims.

“C’mere,” he whispered above the hum. “You need to get me ready.”

The view of her walking toward him with the flames at her back was even more spectacular. Curtis loved her rounded little belly, the extra fullness to her breasts. He knew he’d want her like this again, full with his child…

Later.

He was itching to get his hands on her when she reached him. Her breath came faster as the toy hummed away.

Curtis leaned back on one hand on the bed, his thighs spread. His cock was tall and rock hard against his abs as he handed her the tube of lubricant with a smile.

With her hands on his thighs, she carefully sank to her knees in front of him, one of the shaggy rugs he found shielding her knees from the cold floor. She looked at the tube in his hand, tilting her head to one side.

Then she took him in hand instead. In a few strokes, she had him fighting her. When she got her mouth on him, Curtis was cursing under his breath and grabbing the bedding beneath him. She worked him with the wet warmth of her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks until he was gasping for air. When she took him to the back of her throat, her hands working the base of him, it was all he could do not to come.

Curtis carefully eased her back, panting. “Your little mouth is so good… But…”

Grinning, she took the lube now, squeezing out a bit into her palm before working it over his aching length. Her touch was light and easy, making him question the need to play with the toys. Making him want to stretch her out on the bed, curl up behind her, and fuck into her until neither of them could breathe.

After a couple of moments, she had him coated, rising from the floor to head back to the fire.

“Wait,” Curtis had to stop her. The water was hot. “You can’t reach—”

His girl held up a knife she’d pilfered from his pants pocket, grinning slyly.

Curtis chuckled, shook his head.

Using it, she carefully fished out the sleeve and held it on the knife as she walked back to him. Testing it with her fingers, she grabbed the hard outer sleeve and inserted it.

Curtis shifted back on the bed, up to the pillows. She dropped the knife, climbed on the bed, and moved towards him. Parting his thighs for her, he focused on breathing – on just fucking hanging on – as she came closer. Testing the inside of the fleshlight again with her fingers, she seemed determined when she took him in hand and lined him up with the opening of the toy.

“You’ll tell me if anything hurts?” Her tone was tinged with concern.

Curtis nodded, trusting her. Hell, he’d never used one.

Careful, she was infinitely careful as she held it for him, she allowed him to guide himself into the sleeve and it did feel pretty damned good. It was tight, textured inside to feel like a woman. It was warm and thanks to her preparations, he slid easily enough.

It didn’t feel nearly as good as she did. But Curtis couldn’t complain. No, not with her eyes shining in lust and excitement as she began to work him with the toy. Careful strokes as he got used to the sensations, how to move within the pussy sleeve.

“Harder,” he bid her, his hips beginning to shift up.

His girl moved with him, sliding the toy down as he worked up. His knuckles were white, clutched in the bedding as he watched her. He didn’t know what had him more worked up. The way she worked the toy over him, those big eyes moving over his body while she did.

Or the way her hips were shifting. Her legs were tucked under her where she sat between his legs and it was subtle, but he caught it. She was grinding down on the bullet, the hum of the small appliance slightly louder when she did it. 

She must be feeling so good right now.

Curtis thrust in and out of the sleeve in her hands, watching her fingers toy with something at the other end. Whatever she did caused the sleeve to tighten slightly around his cock and he cried out, drawing her worried gaze up to his face.

She froze. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he managed, “just got tighter… fuck…”

Her mouth rounded into an “oh” and she continued to tease him. Now he was staring at her lips as his thrusts sped up. Now he was thinking about fucking her mouth…

Her nipples were hard little points and her hips were now in perpetual motion. But she wasn’t complaining, determined to keep her attention on him, his pleasure.

God, he had to wonder just how wet she was right now…

When she slid one hand beneath the sleeve to tease his balls, he… was… done…

Curtis grabbed for the sleeve and he startled her when he pulled it off and slung it away to drop with a loud thud on the floor. He wasn’t trying to be rough with her, but he was none too gentle when he pushed her forward onto her hands and knees, taking his place behind her.

Painting kisses over her lower back, the soft globes of her ass, Curtis ripped off her panties, tossing them away. He snatched up the vibe when it fell on the bed, leaving it running.

When he pushed his face into her very real pussy, he had an answer to his question. His girl was soaked, hot and aching. She moaned as he took a good long taste of her, hanging onto her hips carefully as he made her come on his tongue while she called out for him.  

She dropped to her elbows once she was spent and that worked for him because he needed his cock in her ten minutes ago. When he sank into her, he almost came from the feel of her alone. Warm, wet, real.

His.

He tried, he really did to be careful. Curtis held onto her hips and began fucking her in earnest. He listened beyond the sound of their bodies slapping together, watched for any sign of distress. His girl buried her face in the pillows, one hand clutched next to her head, one sliding down her body. When it slid past her tummy to the wet flesh where they joined, he batted it away.

Then he had a better idea.

Curtis saw the silver bullet vibe winking up at him. Snatching it up and seeking out her swollen clit, he gently pressed it there as he continued to fuck into her with firm, fast strokes. Her cries filled the room, they were the good ones. The ones that let him know she was about to blow apart.

When she clenched hard around him, he was hanging on by a thread. When she screamed out his name and came apart around his cock, he was done for. Done. His thrusts were grinding and dirty as he pumped himself into her, over and over. The orgasm rocked him, had his heart slamming in his chest as pure pleasure flooded his bloodstream, conquered his body.

The vibe still hummed under his thigh when he came around enough to see they both lay panting on the bed, bare and sweating in the dim light from the fire. It was dark out now.

Curtis reached for the toy, shutting it off before gathering his girl into his arms and holding her against him.

“You okay?” He pressed kisses into her hair. “Was that too much?”

Her eyes were closed, and she shook her head against his chest. “Felt good,” she whispered.

Her tummy was pressed into his side and he flinched at first when he felt it. Then he grinned.

“Did you feel that?” she blinked up at him like a sleepy owl.

“Yeah, I did.” Smoothing a hand down to where her baby bump met his side, he waited to see if he could feel anything.

The little one began moving against his palm, shifting visibly in there.

His child. His son or daughter was in there and Curtis held onto hope that everything would go well for his girl, their child in getting them here. He pictured a girl who looked exactly like her or a boy with her big eyes.

All he knew was that if he could get the child here safely and keep his girl safe, he’d love them and fight for them until his last breath.

“You going to be able to sleep?” he wondered now that the little one obviously alert.

She yawned, stretched in his hold. “Once I eat something, that usually does the trick.”

She watched him with big curious eyes as he climbed out of bed and began to pull on his clothes. When she sat up, he shook his head.

“Stay right there,” he told her. “I’ll bring you dinner.”

But he couldn’t just leave the room. He took a long look at his girl, smiling and sated in the center of their new bed. She was the most beautiful thing in his world.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, buttoning his shirt, Curtis leaned in, kissing her soundly.

Pulling back, he flashed her a smile. “I love you… I love you both so much.”

Her hand came up to his face, her touch gentle. “I love you.”

@caffiend-queen​ @voltage-my2dlove​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @4charmed​ @the-soulofdevil​ @marvelfansworld​ @wemisshim3000​ @pining-and-tired​ @you-are-my-sanctuary​ @navybrat817​ @this-is-serenaa​ @qrndevans @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory​ @katedrexel​ @steveodinsonbarnes​ @secretlyactivated​ @southerngracela​ @misplacedorphan​ @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ @dragonglxss @angstsfordays​ @ayamenimithiriel @introvertedmouse​ @mayr65 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @winterssoliderss​ @mustangshelby04​ @champangebucky​ @navispalace​ @jennmurawski13​ @ms-betsy-fangirl​ @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @givesyourbest​ @what-is-your-wish​ @angrybirdcr​ @sullyosully @ghxst-frxm-qveens @what-is-your-plan-today​

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[yellowsuitcase]

Betwixt; Draco Malfoy: Chapter 2 - The Prince

A/N: Getting settled! Enjoy

Warning(s): Swearing

Word Count: 4.8k

Credits:  @10amnoodles​ Check her out! her artwork is incredible and this series wouldn’t be happening without her :)

Bewtixt Masterlist

“Here is where you will be staying indefinitely. You have an hour before your etiquette lessons start. They will be held in the library on the first floor at exactly 10 o’clock. Please do get settled; your uniforms are hanging in your wardrobe. You are expected to wear them every day unless told otherwise,” Olive opened the door. I gave her my thanks for showing me around, and she took her leave. Once she was gone, I stepped into my new room. 

It was better than I’d expected, honestly. I had assumed I’d receive a bed and wardrobe, and while the room did have those essentials, it certainly wasn’t limited to them. There was a dark wooden desk in the right corner; a matching wardrobe leaned against the wall next to it. The room was lit up by two glass doors leading to a balcony. I instinctively took a step towards them and found myself standing on a cream-colored rug. It was perfectly circular and looked very expensive. I hastily shuffled off of it, not wanting my dirty shoes to taint its color. 

I proceeded to the balcony. There were two pots of blue flowers in each corner, as well as a bench sat in between both doors. Despite my aching feet, I found myself at the railing, clutching it firmly. I ignored the discomfort of the chilly autumn air nipped at my skin. From where I stood, I could see rooftops and people moving through the city, albeit they did look like dots from this height. I tried to look past the walls, tried to see home. Of course, all I could see were fuzzy blobs vaguely resembling trees. I couldn’t help but think of Jasper. God, I hope he’s okay. I wonder if he’ll be upset with me when I come back.

Reluctantly, I shoved Jasper from my mind and retreated into my bedroom, kicking off my shoes as I sauntered over to my wardrobe. Upon first glance, I could tell it was handcrafted. However, it had undeniably seen better days. The wood was chipped in numerous places, and one of the knobs was dangerously loose. I gingerly opened its doors to reveal several white dresses. I pulled one out and held it up to my chest; it looked as if it’d fit me well. I stood in front of the vanity adjacent to the wardrobe to examine it further. The dress was quite simple, just a flowy frock paired with a dark blue corset and green apron. 

I made sure my door was locked and got undressed. I then slipped into the corset and attempted to tie it on my own. I thought I had done quite well, but when I examined myself in the mirror, my eyes widened at the sight. The ribbons were twisted, wonky, and overall atrocious, barely acceptable. Yet, it was the best I could manage. I had never been a fan of the restricting garment. 

I went back to the wardrobe to hang up Ginny’s dress when I was dressed. Upon getting close to the closet, my eye caught sight of a loose panel in the back of it. Quickly, I pushed the dresses to the side to get a better look. “Huh,” I mused aloud. The board had a slight bend in the corner of it as though it had been forcefully yanked from its place on more than one occasion. Curiosity got the better of me, and I reached out my fingers and grasped the corner, testing the waters, seeing how much it would give. Surprisingly, it resisted my gentle tug. Although this should’ve deterred me, I was too interested now. I planted my foot firmly in front of me, bent my knees, and yanked on the panel. It remained stuck. I tried again; this time, it gave way so easily that I toppled over onto my back with a loud thud.

“Fucking hell,” I muttered under my breath, examining the board in my hand. Then I looked up from the ground; my jaw dropped to the floor when I saw it. Behind the panel was a tight crawl space. I hastily got to my feet and leaned my face towards it. Cold air fanned over my face, carrying the smell of dirt and dust particles with it. I reeled back, coughing violently. “What on Earth…” 

It looked as if the channel had no end. It was fully dark, but my room's light highlighted all the numerous cobwebs covering the walls. Hesitantly, I stuck my hand inside it, feeling the rough stone walls as I did. Where could this possibly lead? Surely, it’s not a secret passageway. There’s no way Ron was right... Fuck, what if he was? I pulled my head out of the wardrobe and scanned my room for a clock, locating one on my bedside table. I picked it up and looked at the time: 9:30. My eyes drifted back to the wardrobe, then to the forgotten panel on the floor. Fuck it. I hiked up my dress and clambered into the closet. Yet, once I got inside, my feet hesitated as I faced the dark abyss. 

My heart pounded in my chest. This could lead anywhere. If I was lucky, it could lead home. Yet, I had no way of knowing how long it was, whether or not it was safe, if I’d be able to turn back. Tick, tick, tick. The unmistakable sound of time passing reminded me I had a mere thirty minutes to spare. I decided to go through with my decision, putting my head down and crawling into the hole. It was only when I got my entire body inside that I realized how truly tiny it was. The floor of it felt unpleasant against my exposed elbows, and I could feel fear beginning to set it, but I was in too deep now; I had to keep going.

I trudged forward and, at some points, dragged my body through the crawlspace. It wasn’t getting any brighter, and the cobwebs were only getting thicker. Nevertheless, I kept going until my hand reached forward, only to find that the floor had, inexplicably, ended. My heart stopped, and I quickly curled my toes and pulled my body backward, away from the edge. Once I had calmed my pulse, I picked my hand up and felt around. My fingers found the ledge, as well as a wall beneath it. Wondering if there was anything else, I extended my arm downwards. As I did this, my hand brushed up against something firm. Hastily, I curled my fingers around it. It seemed to be a wooden pole of sorts. Upon further exploration, I discovered I was touching a ladder. Excitement stirred within me, and I reached upwards, trying to find the ceiling. I waved it around wildly in the dark; I couldn’t feel anything but air. 

Time was still ticking, so I extended my arm backward and latched my fingers around the edge of the crawlspace’s ceiling. Then, with wobbly legs, I got to my feet and stood up. “Okay,” I breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, I turned myself around and lowered my right foot. It found the first rung of the ladder, then my left found the second. I climbed down it until my feet met the floor. An echo sounded when they did, and I whipped my body around, startled. I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t hear anything, but the scent of mildew and mud was unmistakable. However, my curiosity was only growing, and after a few moments of standing with my back against the wall, it overpowered my fear. Tentatively, I stepped forwards and stuck out my hands. 

As I moved them around, my left pinky finger came in contact with something sturdy; another wall. I ran my hand up, down, and across it in every way I could manage. Just as I was going to try the opposite wall, my hand hit something cold. I yanked away with a gasp but then reached out again; this time, I felt something smooth. As I ran my fingers up, I felt little bumps and then a rough stick. I pinched my fingers onto it and felt some sort of crust smear onto them. Puzzled, I brought my hand to my nose and sniffed. Ash. It smelled of ash. This was a candlestick, I realized. My heart leaped; this meant I could return with a flint striker to light the tunnel. That’s just what I’d do, I’d return, but at that moment, I knew I had very little time left. I went to the ladder and crawled back through the hole, this time with light shining from the end of it.

Once in my bedroom, I picked up the panel and jammed it back into place. Then I pulled the dresses over it to hide it and shut the doors of my wardrobe, letting my hands rest upon it as I caught my breath. So many emotions were running through me, confusion, exhilaration, shock, but then my eyes found the clock. 9:50. 

“Shit!” I cursed as I started for the door. However, as I was taking my leave, I caught sight of my reflection in the vanity mirror. It showed a dirty woman, her hair covered in spiderwebs, definitely not someone who could roam the castle halls. Frantically, I rushed back to the closet and took out a new dress. There was no way I could show up to lessons looking like how I did. As fast as I could without tearing it, I disrobed my soiled uniform and tossed it into the basket beside the wardrobe. I then donned the new, clean dress and jerked open my vanity drawer. I spotted a hairbrush and frantically ran it through my tangled hair, ridding it of any debris. Once it was clean, I twirled it into a bun and pinned it. 

After a final once-over in the mirror, I deemed my appearance acceptable, slipped on my shoes, and fled my room. Since Olive had already given me a tour of the castle, I knew the library was located at the back of the palace. My feet carried me down the hallway and down the staircase. I was nearly running, terrified of being late. Upon turning a left corner, my body ran into something firm. “Oh!” I yelped. 

“Watch where you’re going,” a familiar voice hissed. I looked up to find the prince glaring down at me, a scowl etched upon his face.

“I apologize, Your Highness. It won’t happen again,” I told him while bowing my head. 

“It better not,” he spat. I nodded curtly and took a step forwards, aiming to walk around him and continue down the hall. As I was passing him, a hand abruptly and firmly grabbed my wrist. Without hesitating, I wrenched myself from his grasp and took several steps backward, my heart speeding up. Draco stared at me bewilderedly, his hand still hanging in the air. Obviously, he was wondering why I’d reacted in such a way. His eyes were narrowed, but even from the distance I had put between us, I could see the confusion in them. Curiously enough, despite emotion being at the forefront, the look of vacancy from that morning was still there, buried beneath it all. 

Before I was able to properly calm down and further study him, he snapped out of it, lowering his arm and clearing his throat. “When you’re done with your training, stop by my study. We have things to discuss,” he instructed me. I nodded, watching as he side-stepped away from me and continued on his path, wherever it may be to. As my heart began to slow down, my eyes drifted to a nearby clock. 9:58. “Motherfucker!” I whisper-yelled, then broke into a sprint that carried me all the way to the library doors.

When I entered, a tall, grey-haired woman peered at me through her oval-shaped glasses. I swiftly straightened my posture, suddenly aware of my disheveled appearance. She carried herself with elegance and maturity; I could practically feel her judgment from where I stood. 

“Y/N, I presume?” I nodded. “Next time, arrive early. You will address me as Lady McGonagall, understood?” she asked. Her voice was high pitched and steady. This woman wasn’t one to fool with. 

“Yes, Lady McGonagall,” I replied. A smile formed on her lips.

“Excellent, let’s get started.”

--------

I closed my door behind me, finally inside my room. Exhausted, I let myself sink to the floor. Mother of God, had my first lesson been rigorous. McGonagall had high expectations, to say the least. She berated me the entire class.

“Spine straight, chin up, shoulders back.” I must have heard that phrase nearly twenty times. When I made the decision to try for this position, I had no idea it would be this exhausting. I couldn’t help but wonder if my mother had gone through the same thing. She hadn’t worked for a member of the Royal Family, of course, but being a maid for Lord and Lady Greengrass surely meant she had to learn proper etiquette. If only she could see me now. What would she say? What would she think? I like to think she’d be proud of me for getting off my ass. The thought of it made me laugh. 

I picked myself up and walked over to the balcony. I knew this would quickly become my favorite spot. I knew Jasper would love it. The thought of him made my heart squeeze. I’d only been gone eight hours and I missed him terribly. However, I suppose it made sense that I was feeling this way; I’d never been gone from him this long. Releasing a sigh, I rested my head on my arms that were propped up on the railing. I can’t be thinking like this. I’m here for a reason; I’m here for Jasper. 

Reluctantly, I went back inside and began cleaning myself up in my mirror. I already stopped by the kitchen after my lesson to get a small snack, so the only things left on my agenda was my meeting with the prince and dinner. McGonagall told me I’m on waitress duty for tonight’s dinner. This meant I’d be one of two servants present in the dining room. I’d only be able to eat once the Royal Family was finished.

I deemed myself presentable and once again headed out of my room. The North Wing of the castle housed all the family’s private quarters, so I made my way there. I was unsure of where exactly Draco’s study may be, but I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

When I reached the correct corridor, I slowed my pace, examining each door as I went. Some had signs hanging over them, but others remained unmarked. None were open. Well, I’m not going to find it by standing here, I thought. I went down the hallway, knocking on every door and trying the handle. One after the other, locked, locked, locked. My hand was hovering over the final door when I was startled by a soft “ahem.”

I whipped my head to the left to find Draco standing in the middle of the corridor. The look on his face made my stomach churn; he didn’t look pleased. He strutted towards me, fists clenched and chest puffed out. His stance reminded me of Jasper when he was trying not to throw a fit. Was the prince about to have one?

“Rule number one, don’t attempt to get into rooms you haven’t specifically been instructed to enter,” he spat as he reached for the doorknob in front of me. The door swung open easily, and he gestured for me to go inside.

“But, Your Highness, you told me to go to your study, how was I supposed to-” He held up his hand, silencing me. 

“Go inside, don’t make me repeat myself,” he ordered. I did as he asked and stepped into his study. The curtains were drawn shut, making the room extremely dark. I watched Draco walk over to a desk, presumably his, and open one of the drawers. He pulled out an object. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. It made a clinking noise as he held it in his hand. The light from the hallway illuminated the room just enough for me to see Draco approach a wall-mounted candle holder, and sparks emerge from his hands. The tinder took flame, and from its light, I could see the object in his hands were actually two—a flint striker paired with a piece of steel. 

He used the tinder to light the candle, then used that to light the others until every last one was lit. The study was now easier to examine. A large mahogany desk sat in the center of the room. To the left of it were green sofas and tall bookshelves, packed to the brim with various novels. To the right, a round table surrounded by dark green armchairs. A vase of white, wilting flowers sat in the center of it. It seemed as though Draco had noticed me staring at them, my feet subconsciously drawing me nearer to them.

“That’ll be a job of yours, replacing those flowers. They’re appealing at every stage of their short life, but the stench of rotting sweet pea is not one I find to be very pleasant.”

I turned my body towards him. He was standing by his desk, hand resting on the edge of it. Neither of us said a word; we simply looked at one another. He was trying to figure me out. I was doing the same. Suddenly, he seemed to come to his senses and broke eye contact.

“Shall we sit? Perhaps you should grab parchment and a quill? To take notes of what will be expected of you,” he suggested, placing the flint, steel, and tinder back into its case on his desk and reaching for a piece of parchment. My hands found each other behind my back, and I walked right past his desk and straight towards the sofas. I could feel his eyes on me as I took a seat.

“I’ll remember, Your Highness,” I told him, my voice soft. He raised an eyebrow, doubting me.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should just-”

“I said, I’ll remember.” My words seemed to anger Draco, but he said nothing. Instead, he took a seat on the emerald couch across from me, his eyes still searching. I wondered what they were hoping to find. If it was obedience, submission, he wouldn’t find it in me. Yet, I think he understood that when we met. I think it’s why he chose me.

“Very well. I assume Lady McGonagall has already informed you of many of your duties. Such as weekly tidying of my bedroom-”

“Your study, the kitchens, the guest rooms, the sitting rooms…” I trailed off as I saw Draco give me an unamused look. Nevertheless, he nodded and cleared his throat.

“It seems you do remember well. Good, so you know your chores. Now I can go over my personal rules for you. We’ll start with this room,” he said while gesturing around the room. “I spend the majority of my days in here, thus it gets messy quite quickly. While you must clean it, you shall never clean my desk. I don’t care if its entirety is covered in parchment and books; they are not to be touched. Neither are the drawers.”

My eyes followed his fingers as they pointed towards his desk. The flint striker shined with the light from a nearby candle. It was calling my name, but patience was going to be the key to snagging it, so I turned back to the prince as he stood up from the couch. He walked towards a series of display shelves. Numerous peculiar items sat atop it. The one that caught my eye the most was a small glass ball with a golden ring around its middle. 

“None of these items are to be touched under any circumstances, understood?” he asked. His voice had turned dark. Seems as though these objects held quite the meaning.

“What if one of them is about to fall onto the floor?” I asked, purposefully trying to irritate him, just to see how far I could push him. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance but did inform me that should an item be falling to its doom, I could catch it. 

Draco continued going around the room and telling me what I could and could not mess with. Some of these things seemed completely arbitrary, like the crooked picture frame above an end table. Others made sense, like the ring on display. According to Draco, it had been passed down through eight generations.

Once Draco finished going around his study, he headed to the door, ready to lead me to his bedroom. Before joining him, I walked by his desk and pretended to look at the portrait to my left. It was of the prince and his father. Draco saw this, and instinctively followed my gaze; it was all I needed. My fingers swiped the flint and steel case right off his desk and slid it into my apron pocket. When his eyes returned to me, confusion evident on his face, I was already heading towards him. He said absolutely nothing about the now missing item. What a shame, he really had been just angry this morning.

As we entered the bedroom, I felt my eyes begin to widen. His room was magnificent. Not only did he have a dark green canopy bed, but he also had couches, a fireplace, a floor-length mirror next to his enormous wardrobe, and another desk. I noticed from the open door that it even had a washroom of its own. I must not have hidden my surprise well enough because I heard a soft chuckle beside me.

“Biggest bedroom in the palace,” Draco gloated, his hand on his hip. I disregarded him and instead began walking to the windows. When I got to them, I peered out to see a relatively big fenced-in field. There looked to be some stables in one corner. Do they have horses?, I wondered. Unable to quell my excitement, I turned to Draco to ask but stopped short when I found him giving me a hard stare.

“Do you have no manners at all? You cannot just wander around my bedroom as if it is your own! I’ve been tolerating your nonsense only because it’s your first day, but one more foolish act of disrespect, and you’re gone, understood?” he lashed out, his teeth barred and chest heaving. I gave him no reply, only watching as he seethed with anger. However, that soon got boring, so I turned my head back to the window. His little tantrum didn’t phase me one bit; I knew his words were empty threats. 

“Do you have horses?” I asked, breaking the silence and meeting Draco’s eyes again. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his nose was scrunched. 

“Seriously? You’re not going to acknowledge what I just said?” he questioned, his anger still strong. I said nothing, my eyes blinking at him with false innocence. He stared at me, waiting. When he realized I wasn’t going to back down, he threw up his hand halfheartedly. “Yes, of course, we have horses. What kind of a question is that?” he berated me. “Whatever, just sit down, and I’ll show you what else you’re forbidden to touch.” I decided enough was enough, and I did as I was told, taking a seat in one of the nearby chairs. 

As Draco roamed about his room, I couldn’t help but let my eye be drawn away from him again. This time, it wasn’t the window that interested me. It was the sword hanging above his nightstand. The handle of it looked to be made of jade stone. It had silver snakes curled around it, hovering, almost. At the base of the blade was a dark, black gem. Not until Draco waved his hand in front of my face was my gaze torn from it.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” I apologized. However, the prince didn’t look upset. He smirked at me as he walked over to the sword and gently lifted it from its shelf. His right hand gripped the handle as he began lightly swishing the blade through the air. I watched, mesmerized as he handled the weapon with ease. I’d be lying to myself if I said it wasn’t attractive. There’s something inherently captivating about a man who’s good with his hands. 

Without warning, Draco twirled the sword around then upwards towards the ceiling before slowly bringing it down until the tip of the blade was nearly grazing my nose. My heart pounded in my chest, but not from fear. 

“Do you know how to use one?” he asked. I shook my head. Of course, I didn’t know how to swordfight. “Didn’t think so,” he replied, lowering the blade from my face.

“Why do you ask, Your Highness?” Draco didn’t answer. He seemed to be in deep thought. Surely he wasn’t thinking what I was thinking. 

The prince toyed with the sword for a moment before looking at me and asking, “Would you like to learn?” His expression remained blank as he stared at the floor. He was nervous.

“Why would I? And why would you want to teach me?” I asked him. There was no point in beating around the bush. Draco shrugged his shoulders and glanced up at me briefly before breaking eye contact again.

“Protection,” he stated as if it were obvious. “Sure, you can wash my bedsheets and clean my room, but knowing that I can have you as some sort of secret weapon, should anything ever happen, is good insurance.”

He wasn’t wrong, I suppose. Teaching me to fight would be a good thing to have in his back pocket. If anything were to happen, like a neighboring kingdom attacking Sithrawl, not one member of their army would consider me a threat. Furthermore, not many get the chance to learn the art of wielding such a dangerous item. I’d be stupid to deny his offer. I pushed myself up from the chair and clasped my hands together.

“I accept your offer, Your Highness,” I said confidently. There was a mocking undertone, but of course, Draco didn’t pick up on it. Him and his big head.

“Wonderful. We shall meet in the dungeons every Friday at, let’s say, nine o’clock.”

“In the morning?”

“Evening,” Draco specified. I nodded but went on to ask another question.

“May I ask why the dungeons? That seems like an odd place. Surely a ballroom would be better suited?”

“Well, if you’re to be a secret weapon, we can’t exactly have you swinging a sword around in one of the main rooms of the castle now, can we?” Draco smiled, waving his sword back and forth as he spoke. I didn’t like how cocky he was with that thing in his grasp.

“Of course, you’re right.” A moment of silence passed. Draco continued playing with his sword while staring at me, his eyes cloudy. “Am I dismissed, Your Highness?” I spat out, eager to leave the tension-filled room. Draco nodded and gestured to the door. I bowed slightly, showing my thanks.

As I was reaching for the handle, Draco cleared his throat behind me. I spun around to face him, wondering if he was going to change his mind. Maybe there was something else he wanted to go over. However, his next words surprised me.

“Forgive me. It’s just occurred to me that I haven’t asked for your name.” 

I felt my eyebrows raise and the corners of my mouth lift, despite my best efforts to retain a straight face. You shouldn’t be blushing because he’s doing the bare minimum of asking your name, I chastised myself. Truly, Draco had been nothing but a spoiled brat since I met him this morning; however, there was something about him that drew me in. He just seemed so intriguing, so puzzling. I wanted to figure this man out.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well, Y/N,” Draco started. He then took a few steps towards me, swinging his sword. He seemed to like fidgeting with it. “I will see you at dinner.”

I swallowed. He had gotten close enough that I was able to smell his perfume. Despite the sword in his grasp, I looked up at him. Once again, a staring contest arose. This one didn’t last long, though. “Until then, Your Highness,” I said softly. Then I pulled the door open and hurried out, not bothering to look back and see if Draco was staring. I didn’t have to. I could feel his eyes on me.

Taglist(pls lemme know if you don’t want to be on the Betwixt taglist!): @mischiefisbeingmanaged​ @pastelpuffbar​ @cutie1365​ @dracoxmgg​ @lumlfy​ @sambucky8​ @emilianamason​ @raplinethereal​ @DixieTheMorab24 @xoxohollands​ @prongsandprancer​ @ch0kemedracomalfoy​ @avlauriaa @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream​ @drxcomvlfx​ @sydnee-kom-spacekru​ @dracosgoodgirl​ @voilawind​ @gloryekaterina​ @anchoeritic​ @ragxsxragxs​ @exoticlizard @dlmmdl @siriusblklftv​ @Writtenbyadramaqueen @amourtentiaa​ @keidensu​

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 12: Tyrant, Martyr, Saviour

(from ‘The Conman and the Maid’ Series)

…in which Harry saves someone, and Y/N is locked up.

Word count: 4.8k

AU: princess!y/n, conman!harry, prisoner!harry.

Series description: Y/N is a princess and Harry is a prisoner in her castle. With his help, she escapes from her arranged marriage in search of a happy ending, if there is one.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

Let's see if you recognize the In Another Life and Flatmate references ;)

Note: This AU has a connection with IAL but has nothing to do with the curse because this story took place way before that. You don't have to read IAL to understand the ending, but if you have read IAL, the ending will blow your mind. We have three chapters left.

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When Harry had come to talk to Kenny, her mother had been shocked to see that he wasn’t dead. He must admit that it was satisfying to see Patricia Rowley’s round face turn ashen as if she were staring at a ghost. If only the fun had lasted longer. Once Patricia was sure he was a real person, she had looked him up and down and said in a spiteful and condescending tone, “Her husband had come to take her home. It’ll be for the best if you stay away from her, boy.”

Then she’d given a dismissive wave and turned on him to make sure he knew he was still that same dirty poor boy who didn’t deserve her daughter.

That day, he’d gone home feeling quite relieved that he wouldn’t have to break Kenny’s heart for good. Until the things left unsaid overtook him. They became a heavy burden that he would have to carry wherever he went. Would Kenny ever forgive him? He hated her mother, but that woman hadn’t been wrong. He didn’t deserve Kenny. Not even as a friend.

It’d been three weeks since the night at the tavern. He was finally healing. Or so he thought. He’d been keeping his hands and mind busy with hunting trips with Caleb. They sold the animals they’d hunted and earned some low income. It was fine. Not great. Just fine. Fine was enough for someone like him.

Gemma had advised him to reopen their father’s blacksmith shop as it would be a steadier source of income. He was still considering it. He wasn’t good at the job but he could learn. He might. Right now, he had no motivation.

He’d stopped stealing and cheating, but he wouldn’t count it as accomplishment since he now slept with every attractive woman he came across. Hell, by the time he’d figured out what to do with his pathetic life, he might have already fucked this entire city. He didn’t know what else to do in order to not feel so empty, because while he was inside someone or had someone’s mouth or hands all over him, all he could think about was her.

He’d waited every day for the response from the sisters or news of the upcoming war, but there was none. For the first week, he’d been worried that the sisters had refused to help Y/N, or the letter hadn’t got to them yet, or something bad had happened to them. But when that week had ended and there’d been no news of the letter, he’d decided to give up. He hadn’t sold the ring as it was the only thing of her that he’d got left, but every time he looked at it, he was reminded of her, of what they could have been if they weren’t who they were.

Every night, while lying next to a stranger and the stranger had fallen asleep, he would tell himself that in another life, they’d be together again. They’d have a normal life, had children, a dog called Whisker or a cat called…

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to name their cat. But he wanted it to have white fur, like snow, like the land she’d come from, like the night they’d met, like the moment at the stable when he’d been struck by the way those white flakes danced their way down her clothes and her hair...

Before he’d drifted, he’d decided to call their white cat Treasure. After all, their adventure had begun with the treasure in her satchel, but all along she’d been the gold he’d been looking for. Now he was empty-handed. No gold. No lover.

True lovers always find their way back to each other, she had told him at the river where her parents had met. She’d believed her parents had met again in the afterlife and finally got a normal life, which had been taken from them since the day they’d been born. Just like her.

He’d said nothing that night, but he’d believed everything she’d said. He would maintain that faith, that if they couldn’t find their way back to each other in this lifetime, he’d meet her in another life as different people. They would say hello, and try again.

Three weeks had passed. Everything seemed to have fallen into place. Until today, when trouble finally came to him.

It came knocking on his door at the break of dawn. No, not knocking. Pounding. He was barely awake and he thought it was a dream until he opened the door and Kenny crashed into his arms. She was shaking and pale like a ghost. He asked her what was wrong. And before she could explain, he heard shouting from the front yard. He recognized the voice. It was Gideon.

Harry balled his fists and told Kenny to wait inside while he went out to see what Gideon wanted. If that son of a bitch had threatened to hurt Kenny—if he had hurt Kenny, Harry would kill him with his bare hands.

“Harry, no!” Kenny cried out as she seized his wrist, but her strength was no match for his. He marched toward the door, forcing her to stumble along. Gideon was waiting outside, his face red and twisted with rage.

“You have something that’s mine.” He pinned Kenny with his eyes and she recoiled behind Harry’s back.

“Something?” Harry somehow kept his tone calm though his blood was boiling. “She’s your wife.”

Eyes narrowed, Gideon stabbed a finger at him. “You. You put this crazy idea into her head.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry scoffed. Kenny clutched his arm tighter and he placed a hand over hers to calm her down. That one simple gesture had triggered Gideon.

“You dirty whore,” he barked. “Have you been letting him fuck you?”

“Do not talk to her that way,” Harry warned, his fingers aching to reach for the dagger at his side. He would not start his day by killing someone. Not even Gideon was worth it.

“Give that whore back to me.”

Harry turned a deaf ear to Gideon and looked over his shoulder, meeting Kenny’s glossy brown eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. Nobody’s taking you anywhere.”

She nodded and looked ahead, then her eyes went wide. “Watch out!”

Harry shoved her aside just in time to dodge Gideon’s knife. The bastard had been carrying it the whole time and Harry had worried too much about Kenny to notice. Gideon shouted and aimed for Harry’s chest. Harry kicked him hard in the stomach, elbowed his jaw, snatched the knife from his hand and tugged his arm backwards over his shoulder. There was a loud crack and Gideon was on the ground, howling like wounded prey.

Kenny had ducked back into the house, hiding her face behind the door and sobbing out loud. Gideon was still wailing in the dirt with a broken arm. If Harry hadn’t been weary from his lack of sleep, he would be laughing at this scene.

“You crazy...you crazy fuck! You broke my arm!”

“Next time it’ll be your neck,” Harry said and yanked Gideon up by his collar. “Don’t fucking come back for her or I’ll cut your throat and dump your body into the river.”

Gideon ran without looking back. He’d seen what Harry was capable of and didn’t want to test his patience.

When Harry turned back to Kenny and asked if she was all right, he noticed the bruises on her arms. She saw him staring and tugged down her sleeves.

“What happened?” he asked. She was still trembling.

“I told you I’d been saving for my own business. He found the money and took it all.” She rubbed the bruises over the fabric of her dress. Her gaze dropped as she continued. “And he...he hit me. I escaped but he found me at my mother’s house and chased me all the way here.” Her voice began to break. “I’m s-sorry I came….I didn’t...didn’t want to get you in trouble. But I have nowhere else to go. My mum...she didn’t allow me to enter the house. She wanted me to stay with Gideon and I...I can’t stay with him...He’d hit me again...”

Harry shushed her softly and looped his arms around her shoulders, drawing her close. She buried her face into his chest, sobbing hysterically. He waited for her to quiet down before he went on, “You can stay here. We’ll figure something out.”

She pulled back to look up as he lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears swimming in her big brown eyes.

“No, I’m sorry.” He held her shoulders and squeezed. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” He hoped she knew he meant it.

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“Princess, you’ve got to eat.”

“I’m. Not. Hungry.”

The maid shrank back in fear and glanced cautiously at the tray of untouched food and then Y/N, who took a deep breath and turned back to the window. She had no idea how long she’d been sitting on this window sill and staring longingly at the boring snow-covered garden. Time passed so slowly when she was in this castle that it felt like Isolde had its own concept of time. Minutes became hours. Hours became weeks. And weeks became years. It felt like three years had passed since she’d last seen him. She couldn’t believe it.

She’d just got back to Isolde last week. Her brother had made sure they hadn’t made too many stops along the way. The sooner we get home, he’d said, the faster I could start planning this war.

Home? This didn’t feel like home anymore. It hadn’t since her mother had died. She’d been locked up and forbidden from any contact with the outside world. She could only speak to Aleia – her new maid. She had no idea where they kept Jo, but she believed Egon wouldn’t harm Jo now that she was carrying his future heir.

After all the shit that Y/N had gone through, finding out about Jo’s pregnancy hadn't shocked her as much as it should have. Despite what had happened between them, she still cared about Jo, and she really hoped the baby was a boy. Egon would make Jo’s life a living hell if it was a girl. Y/N’s hands were tied now; she wouldn’t be able to protect Jo or her nephew. She was no saviour after all.

It’d been easy to imagine herself defeating Egon when Egon wasn’t there. Next to him, she was nothing. She’d been nothing her whole life. The only time she’d been something was when she’d been with Harry. She couldn’t be anything now that she was on her own, without anyone to tell her they believed in her.

She didn’t hear the maid leave, but she felt her absence and turned to find that the tray was gone. The maid had given up on her, too. Good, she thought. She’d rather starve and die than live to see her brother bathe this kingdom with his people’s blood.

A few moments later, the door flew open. She didn’t bother to turn; there could only be one person who would make that dramatic entrance.

“Princess…” Alaia trembled. Y/N heard the clinking of cutlery so she looked over her shoulder to see the maid holding the same food tray. But this time her brother was standing at the door, two guards behind him.

“Put it on the table,” Egon ordered, his voice rough reminding her of the way he’d hit her before. He hadn’t laid a finger on her since they’d got into the carriage outside Calanthe’s castle, but every moment after, she’d expected it. She couldn’t even sleep.

“I’m not hungry,” she told him.

He gestured for Aleia and his guards to dismiss, and they all retreated into the hallway and shut the door.

“I don’t care if you’re hungry,” he said in an unusually calm tone and gracefully dropped down on one of the chairs at the table. He leaned back and rubbed his chin, inspecting her. “You’re too skinny. Your future husband won’t like that. Oh, have I forgotten to tell you that you’re seeing him in three days? He’s travelling all the way here for you. Is that romantic?”

“No.”

Egon stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged. He didn’t care if she agreed. “Well, come on. Eat while it’s still hot. I asked the cook to make you your favourite salmon soup and–”

“I’m not marrying Kavan.” The words slipped out before she could catch them and shove them back down her throat. Her fists clenched as Egon pinned her with his dark eyes, which softened at once, and he smiled. Her fear made him relax.

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You are.”

“I’m not. I don’t wish to marry him. I don’t wish to ever marry.” This time, she’d said those words purposefully. If he was going to kill her, it was only a matter of time. If Harry’s speculations had been true, that Egon needed her alive, then the worst thing that could happen to her was getting locked up. She’d rather rot with the rats then obey him any longer.

But his next question stabbed her hard in the guts.

“Are you in love with someone else?”

She couldn’t answer. It didn’t matter if she confirmed or denied, Egon already knew.

“Did you let him fuck you?”

“What?”

“Are you still a virgin?” Her ears buzzed as if there were a swarm of bees living inside her head. “You’re not, are you?” His voice got more raucous. “I did all of this to bring you home, and clear your crimes, and find you a husband, and make you the future queen of a kingdom, and this is how you repay me?!”

“I owe you nothing.”

He backhanded her so hard she toppled back and hit the table. The food tray rattled but didn’t fall to the floor, and neither did she. She was still standing though her face burnt and her jaw ached. She cupped her sore cheek and scowled at him, her teeth clenched, her fist tight. He took a step forward. This time, she stood still, second-guessing his next move.

He stabbed a finger at her face. “You are nothing without me,” he said. “I’m your King. I own you.”

“Nobody owns me. I belong to no one.”

He raised his palm and she caught his wrist before he could touch her. Egon was physically much stronger and could easily break her hand, yet he was so shocked by her reaction that he froze for a second. She spat in his face and shoved him off. He violently grabbed her by the hair and pulled so hard she felt as if her scalp was coming off. She gasped, trying to wriggle out of his grip when he pushed her to the floor and called for his guards. Once her vision cleared, she pushed herself up weakly to find two guards in the doorway. Their face was taut with concern when they saw her like this. Then she was reminded that not everyone was heartless like her brother.

“Take the Princess to the dungeon,” Egon said as he wiped her spit with his sleeve. A corner of her mouth turned up. She felt weirdly satisfied. She didn’t try to fight back when the guards twisted her hands behind her back and pulled her up. They were gentle. Probably because she was their princess, and they’d known her since her parents had been alive. As they directed her out of the room, she heard Egon say, “If she tries to escape, you’re allowed to hurt her. As long as you keep her alive. And don’t leave marks.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said the guards.

She didn’t even remember how she got to the dungeon. She didn’t even remember walking there. Her feet had carried her on their own, and by the time she’d snapped back to reality, she was already standing behind bars. The guard locked the door, gave her a sympathetic look and took off without a single word. It was so quiet here. All the other inmates must be asleep. She flopped down on the hard ground and hugged her knees to her chest.

She remembered this place. This was where she and Harry had met for the first time. Well, the secondtime. She smiled at the memory though it seemed so far away. The air was hot and humid. She was sweating under her heavy dress. She rested her cheek on her knee and stared at a crack on the wall. For how long? She didn’t know. She stared and stared until her eyes grew heavy. A voice from the cell opposite from hers pulled her right back.

“Pretty lady!”

She snapped her head up and saw the bearded man whom she recognized. “Hey, Mick,” she said, her voice hoarse. She nearly burst into tears. “I’m so glad to see you again.” Was she, though? Maybe she was just glad she could talk to someone.

“I’m not Mick,” the man said with a nonchalant smile. “I’m Harry Styles!”

“Right…” She giggled despite herself. Although it was always good to hear his name. “I missed you.”

“So his name isn’t Harry Styles?”

A female voice from the cell beside Mick stole her attention. She got up and walked toward the bars to get a better look at whoever was speaking. The woman was sitting in the shadow; Y/N couldn’t see her face.

“He’s been telling everyone that was his name,” the woman said.

“My name’s Harry Styles!” Mick repeated, sounding as cheerful as before.

Y/N ignored him. “Harry Styles was the prisoner who used to be in this cell,” she told the lady. “I knew him.”

“What happened? Where is he and why are you in his place?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N suppressed a laugh at the joke. Was it a joke or did this situation make everything funny? She bunched up her dress and flopped down on the floor, crossing her legs and resting her head against the cold metal bars. She drew in a soft breath.

“I helped him escape,” she began, her voice much softer than she thought. “We went on an adventure together. It felt like a dream. Then I woke up, and I’m back here. But he’s home and safe with his family so I think that still counts as a happy ending.”

“Half a happy ending.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

“Maggie,” said the woman. “You’re the runaway princess.”

It wasn’t a question. Everyone in the castle knew.

“Not much of a princess now,” she said despairingly. “Why are you here, Maggie?”

“Your brother would give a better answer,” Maggie replied, sounding surprisingly relaxed. “They took me and my sisters.”

“For what crime?”

“Awful ones.”

“Like murder?”

“I wish.”

Y/N didn’t know what that meant. She looked over to Mick and saw that he’d fallen asleep. She guessed she should save her energy for whatever her brother had in store for her tomorrow. But curiosity got her wide awake.

“Where are your sisters?”

“In a better place, I hope,” Maggie answered. There was no sign of sadness or fear in her voice. It was like they were having a normal conversation about the weather. “Why are you here?”

Y/N hadn’t expected to be asked any question, so it took her a moment to be able to answer. “Because I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“Really?” Maggie let out a faint laugh, from which Y/N imagined Maggie as a young girl, the same age as her. “Stupid men. They think they have rights over our bodies.”

“Maybe I deserved it.” Y/N didn’t know where that’d come from. Those were probably the words she hadn’t been brave enough to say. “I-I made a precarious choice.”

There was a long moment of silence. She guessed Maggie wasn’t interested in her personal stories. But then Maggie said, “That baby is in for big trouble.”

Y/N felt as if a string inside of her was pulled. “What baby?”

“The one you’re thinking about. The one you’re afraid to have.”

Was it so obvious? People just looked at her and knew what she was thinking about? But Maggie wasn’t even looking at her. So how–

“What would you name him?”

Him? Y/N shuddered. “My...my mother didn’t have a baby the first time–”

“But you already have the name,” Maggie asserted as if she’d been living in Y/N’s head. “You’ve thought of it.”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Edward.”

Like his father’s father.

Y/N was panting now. She got on her knees and stuck her face between two bars, trying to look into the shadow to see this person she was talking to. Who was this Maggie? Was she a mind-reader? How did she know Y/N had been fantasizing about the life and family she could have had with Harry? When you were locked up in a tower for a week, you started to think of crazy things.

On the night they’d made love, she hadn’t cared if she’d get pregnant, she’d wanted to be as close to him as she could. But now that she knew how cruel her brother could be, she felt like a fool. Even if she got out of here and married Prince Kavan, she wouldn’t ever escape Egon. He would always have something against her. He’d have her baby against her. So she hoped Edward didn’t exist.

“Who are you, Maggie?” she finally asked. “Show your face.”

There was something moving in the shadow of Maggie’s cell. And everything fell back to silence.

.

.

.

“I can’t eat with you staring at me, Kenny.”

“Sorry.”

"I'm joking." Harry laughed as Kenny dropped her head to hide her flushed cheeks. She hadn’t even touched her soup, and he’d already finished his. “What is it?” he asked when she glanced up again.

Flustered, she smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to see if you enjoyed the soup.”

“I did,” he reassured her. “You didn’t have to cook for me, though.”

“That’s the least I could do to thank you for letting me stay.”

The silence returned. Harry kept staring at the bowl in front of Kenny. It seemed like she wasn’t in the mood to eat. He pursed his lips while rearranging his thoughts. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions to ask; he didn’t know where to begin.

“What are you gonna do?” he finally spoke.

“I’m...well...I don’t,” she stuttered while picking at her own nails. “My money’s all gone.”

“He can’t just keep your money. You earned it.”

She’d been working in a bakery before she’d married Gideon. Harry knew she’d saved every single coin she’d earned for her dream sewing business. Gideon couldn't take that from her.

“He can.” She trembled. “He’s still my husband...He gets to keep all the money.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s the law.”

“Fuck the law.”

The startled look on her face got his cheeks hot. She didn’t like it when he swore. He averted his eyes and muttered, “Sorry.” He expected her to change the subject, but then she let out a warm laugh. He hadn’t heard her laugh in so long. He lifted his face and their eyes locked again. She was grinning from ear to ear like the little girl he remembered.

“I’ll get the money back for you,” he said.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll kill him if I must.”

“Harry.”

He knew that tone. Her warning tone. “Fine,” he sighed. “Maybe scare him until he pisses his pants.”

She rolled her eyes, too familiar with his violent jokes. “Well, I–” She paused. He knew she was holding something back. He laced his fingers together and leaned forward like he was waiting for her to finish a bedtime story. “I know how...to get the money for my business.”

“How?”

She bit her lip. “Do you remember what happened to my father?”

Her father had been found dead on the riverbank many years ago. Nobody knew what had really happened to him. There had been so many rumours, and Kenny had refused to believe in any of them.

“What does that have to do with–”

“Willem killed him.”

“What?” A shiver coursed through Harry. His eyes went round. “King Willem?”

She nodded.

“How do you–”

“My mother had known all along but she’d told nobody,” she confessed, her voice so quiet it felt like she was afraid somebody could sneak into his house and eavesdrop their conversation. “He...he was a mole. He worked in Edgar’s court and collected information for Willem, but...he wasn’t loyal to either of the kings. Willem found out and murdered him in the forest by the river…”

Harry never would have guessed, but he wasn’t surprised. Willem had always wanted to invade the South, and now his son was doing his job.

“How long have you known?”

“My mum told me on the day of my wedding,” Kenny replied heavily. Her eyes looked even sadder, which he hadn’t thought was possible.

Then it hit him. “Did you know Peach was–”

“Not until I saw her face on wanted signs in the city,” she said, her eyes shadowing. “She could be my ticket to get out of here.”

“What...what does that mean?”

His heart started racing as she clenched her jaw, her forehead creased. He feared what was on her mind, and he prayed she wouldn’t say what he expected her to say.

“I could testify against her. I could tell the Queen that she’d snuck out on the night her uncle got murdered and that you’d been with me. Calanthe would come for you, you know? We can strike a deal with her. The Queen gets her revenge, and we get the money.”

“Kenny…” His lips spoke her name, but it wasn’t her that he saw. It was a stranger. This stranger might look like Kenny, but she certainly didn’t sound like her. The little girl Harry had grown up with and fallen in love with would never do this to anyone. He flinched when she reached for his hand and squeezed. His gaze jumped back to her face, which was now twisted, just like those ideas inside her head.

“She lied to you, didn’t she? She might not be who you think she is.”

He quickly withdrew his hand. “You’re tired, Kenny. Get some rest.”

“Why are you defending her? Her father killed mine!”

“She wasn’t brought into this world to pay for her father’s sins,” he retorted and pushed away from the table. “Are you doing this for your father or yourself?”

Kenny stood up and slammed her hands on the table, yet she still managed to keep the softness in her eyes as she leaned forward and said in hushed tones, “Her father is a tyrant and so is her brother. How can she be any different?”

He turned away, unable to look at her. “She’s not anything like them. She’ll be the saviour. She’ll stop the war.”

He assumed Kenny remembered the prophecy he’d told her that night at Edgar’s party. She’d been so worried about this princess, who was just around their age and had to bear such great responsibility for her kingdom. What had happened to that Kenny?

“It’s been three weeks and the war is bound to happen. Where’s your saviour, Harry?” Kenny calmly asked. “Either she’s in this with her brother. Or she’s dead.”

She’s dead.

She’s dead.

She’s dead.

No. He slowly shook his head. “Don’t even think about going to Calanthe. I mean it.”

“God, Harry, are you even–”

“I’ll get you your money tomorrow. Sleep well, Kennedy.”

And so he left, the same two words following him.

[blackbutterfliescal]

Your Rainbow Will Coming Smiling Through

A Michael Clifford One Shot

Pairing: Single Dad!Michael Clifford & OC Zoey Clifford

Word count: 4.8K

Rating: Mostly fluff with a side of angst

Requested by: Absolutely not a goddamn soul. I’m just here to be soft n emo, I guess.

Content: 3rd person POV, OC Zoey as Michael’s daughter, major character death (main character’s spouse is dead), side of Malum because I couldn’t help myself

A/N: This is based on Steven Curtis Chapman’s “Cinderella” and it’s lived in my head for a long time. The title is based on lyrics from “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes” from Disney’s Cinderella. I don’t normally engage with a lot of dad!sos content for personal reasons, but this idea has lived in my head rent free for far too long so I hope you like it! Big big thank you to @devilatmydoor and @spicycal for encouraging me to get this one done!! It’s only taken me a month lmao

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———

Dinner had been an event. It seemed like it was always an event these days. Pasta noodles and vegetables hung from the walls in the small eat-in kitchen, reminiscent of a Jackson Pollock. Michael let out a deep sigh and ran a hand across his tired face. He’d been so sure that the new recipe would be a hit, but his headstrong three year old had dashed that hope almost immediately. Since quarantine began a few weeks ago, she’d grown bored of staying home and had begun to take her frustrations out on the only other person around. Each day in the modest apartment brought a new challenge but the theme this week was picky eating habits. Michael had tried old favorites, trendy recipes from mommy bloggers, and he’d even let Zoey pick what he bought at the grocery. Honestly, he’d tried anything and everything if he thought it meant she wouldn’t fight him at every meal.

Michael picked up the plates from the table, scraping the few bites that weren’t subjected to his daughter’s wrath into the trashcan by the door. As the dishes landed in the small sink and Michael turned on the tap, he bent forward to rest his forearms on the counter. One glance around the warzone kitchen had tears stinging his eyes. He fought to keep them from falling to no avail, eyes blurring as the droplets got lost in the flowing water and spiraled down the drain.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. We were supposed to be in this together,” Michael’s voice was barely more than a whisper as his thoughts raced and he struggled to compose himself. His voice came out coarse as his frustrated cries hung in the air until it became too thick to breathe in. “It’s been nearly ten months and I’m still no good without you. Zoey’s just like you and I need you here.” He’d hoped setting his thoughts free might ease his mind, but it only made the words weigh heavier on his slumped shoulders. Michael’s pleas were desperate through the sobs. “I wish you were here. You’d know exactly what to do. You always did.” He was barely thirty when he’d been made a widower, carrying the constant grief of a life unlived, seeing a shadow where there should have been a spouse.

He’d been told repeatedly that things would get easier with time but he didn’t think there’d ever be a day where he didn’t need her, didn’t see her in their baby girl. He pulled himself upright with a deep inhale, using the back of his hand to wipe tear stains from his cheeks. Michael couldn’t stop the incessant sniffling brought on by the tears while he continued to take steady breaths through his mouth. He pulled all his focus to wash the few dishes still left from the night and placed them in the drying rack before shutting off the tap. He wrung out the dish towel and began using it to scrub down the mess on the walls. Their dogs seemed to have made quick work of cleaning up the peas that got sprayed across the tiled floor while Michael cleaned up Zoey in the bath and he assumed they’d already made their way to her room.

Through a few small, shaky inhales, he heard a familiar tune playing from the other end of the hallway. After tossing the bits of dinner that he’d pulled off the wall into the bin, he closed the lid and hung the dish towel across the faucet to dry. He quietly made his way to Zoey’s room as the music grew louder, sparing a quick glance in the hall mirror so his disheveled state didn’t alarm Zoey.

He had forgotten that he’d placed an old CD player in her room with several of his old favorites in a small case. Every now and then she liked to listen to his CDs while she played. She usually needed her dad to help her turn it on but it seemed she’d found the play button on her own and begun the same tunes they’d danced to earlier that week. Her curls, still mildly damp from her bath after the messy dinner, bounced around her round face as she spun in circles and giggles fell from her mouth freely. She’d slipped a sparkly dress-up outfit over her pajamas and the matching tiara had almost completely slipped free from her hair. Michael noticed both dogs intently watched from the bed and he let a bittersweet smile tug at his lips while she twirled around the room. Zoey reminded him most of her late mother when she smiled and it made his heart swell, reminding him that she wasn’t completely gone.

When Zoey looked up and noticed him in the doorway, a delighted squeal came from her mouth. “Daddy!! C’mon, I need you! There’s a ball at the castle and I’ve been invited and I need to practice my dancing. Please! Daddy, please!” She wrapped both of her hands around Michael’s fingers and tugged him to the middle of the carpet as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Once she was satisfied with where he stood, she steadied herself and placed her bare feet on top of his shoes, reaching out to grab his other hand. His grip on her was secure as he moved the two of them around merrily, careful not to let her slip from her place on top of his feet. Since losing Zoey’s mom, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let the little moments pass him by. He knew that someday, much sooner than he’d like, someone would steal his little girl’s heart away from him but he wanted to cherish every moment until then. Even if it did include meal-time tantrums.

The upbeat track faded out, replaced by soft guitar chords and a sweetly crooning melody. In one smooth motion, Michael lifted Zoey into his arms and began to sway with her. Her petite hand landed against his warm cheek as she met his green eyes. She studied him for a beat before he rested his forehead against hers and let his eyes fall shut. As Michael began to sing along softly, Zoey pulled away from his face and adjusted herself down to rest against his chest. He nuzzled her close and smiled at the memory that her mother had always found a calmness in the way his voice vibrated through his chest as well.

“Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go. You have made my life complete and I love you so. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

It had been an exhausting evening and it didn’t take long for familiar snores to fill the air from where Zoey rested beneath his chin. He smiled and silently thanked the universe that the last song on the album had been a ballad. Careful not to wake her, he kept a gentle rock in his measured steps as he clicked off the lights through the apartment. Making his way back into her room, he lifted the light blue covers on her small bed while the dogs shifted toward the far end. When he tried to slide her onto the pillow, Zoey’s grip on his shirt tightened and she let out a sleepy groan. Michael shushed her sweetly with a lighthearted laugh and pulled her back into him. He reached down again to pull the covers back further, causing both dogs to move to the floor with a huff, before slipping between them and letting her rest on top of his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. He covered them both and began to hum the sweet melody once more, letting the combination of his voice and heartbeat lull his daughter to sleep again. It wasn’t long before they both drifted off to a much-needed night of rest.

———

With a contented sigh, Zoey placed her new boots on the floor, lining them up to sit below the dress hanging on a singular coat hook on the wall to the right of her closet.

She’d spent nearly every weekend for the past month piled into her dad’s car with her friends, scouring every dress shop in the city. In typical Zoey fashion, she wasn’t interested in an oversized dress with heels that she’d ultimately kick off after the first song played. Somewhere around the fourth store - or maybe fifth? - her friend had shoved her into a fitting room with an understated black a-line they’d picked for her. Though she wasn’t typically a fan of lace or tulle, she knew it was the one she’d spent her time looking for. She knew the lace appliques delicately placed across the neckline would soften up the leather boots and jacket she was already planning to wear.

She pulled one bare foot underneath her and plopped down on her bed, queuing up a lowkey playlist and admiring the outfit she’d put together. She could admit that it was nice to check the prom dress off her to-do list but the centerpiece of the outfit was her mom’s vintage leather jacket. Her dad had gifted it to her years ago, telling her about how excited her mother had been to save up for a real leather jacket and how she’d shopped through every store in the city to find the right one. Not unlike the way he’d seen Zoey searching for the right prom dress.

Of course, Zoey didn’t have many memories of her mom, except for the stories Michael had told her over the years. Somehow, things like her mother’s old leather jacket, still in great condition, made her feel connected to the woman she barely remembered. Zoey often wondered how she could miss someone she couldn’t remember on her own. Maybe some of it was secondhand grief from years of watching her father. Either way, she always felt too nervous to actually wear her mom’s jacket, afraid she’d do something to ruin it, wrecking the already thin tie she had to her. While Michael had always done his best to fill both parental roles, some problems were bigger than he could handle alone. On difficult nights when she needed a mom, Zoey dug the jacket out of the closet and just held it close, hoping to find some guidance from whatever cosmic forces were out there. Now, she’d decided, prom was as good an occasion as any to actually wear it out. It was a big night and she wanted to feel both of her parents there.

As she picked up her laptop to tackle the last few assignments of senior year, Michael’s knuckles rapped on the open door that led to her room. The sound pulled her from her reverie and she glanced up to see her dad in the doorway. Michael, mid-40s, donned large wide-rimmed glasses and his hair was cut short around his face. His natural shade had lightened quite a bit over the years while the ever-present scruff on his chin had taken on shining grey tones. He smiled fondly, taking in the outfit Zoey had put together as it hung on the wall before turning to meet her expectant gaze. Her smile beamed as she questioned, “Do you like it? Do you think Allison will like it? Her dress is baby pink so we’re going to be the least coordinated couple there. But I guess that’s fitting.” A small laugh fell from her mouth as she looked back at the all black ensemble. Michael still heard Zoey’s mom in that laugh and felt a pull in his chest seeing that jacket again. He nodded in response before pointing to the quilted leather. “She’d be so proud of you, you know?” His voice held a tinge of sadness amidst the pride he held for his baby girl.

“No!! No, no no. Don’t cry. You know that only ends with both of us crying!” Zoey slid the laptop to the side and made her way to the man occupying her door frame. He let out a sniffing laugh and shaky breath as she wrapped her arms around him while burying her head in his broad chest. Michael rested his head on top of hers before placing a small kiss on top of her hair. He’d always made sure that she felt safe with him. No matter what was going on elsewhere, it was the two of them versus the world. But damn it all if he didn’t wish that she had her mom here to see the amazing young woman she’d become.

Zoey’s playlist continued quietly and Michael began to rock back and forth as she relaxed into his arms. He knew moments like this would only get harder to come by in a few short weeks. She’d grown up in the blink of an eye, right in front of him. He wanted to keep her close as long as he could. It didn’t matter that dinner was downstairs, getting colder by the minute. Slowly, “Moon River” crept through the speakers and Zoey pulled her head back. “Wait a minute. This is the song we have to dance to,” she whispered. The smile on her face shifted from sweet to teasing and Michael braced for whatever quick-witted remark she had for him. “We gotta work on your moves, old man!” Michael rolled his eyes in response and let out a sarcastic laugh at her words. “Dad, the prom is just one week away and we need to practice our dancing. Please, daddy, please.”

It was custom that each senior waltzed with a parent, or some other guardian, at the very beginning of the prom. Families were only allowed in during this dance and would be ushered out after every group of seniors had taken their turn. Michael and Zoey had been at every after school rehearsal for the past 6 weeks, trying desperately to learn the choreographed steps. Zoey had mastered the box steps with ease. The turning box took a few more tries, but she got it eventually. Michael had taken even more practice though, and she was determined they would perfect the steps before they were in front of all her friends. He didn’t object, not wanting to embarrass her. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Michael stepped further into his daughter’s room, helping her push a few things out of the way as she started the song over and stood tall in her ballroom posture. Michael took small steps but still managed to run into a few things as Zoey coached him through the routine. They made it through to the end of the song unscathed and upright, counting that as a victory.

As Zoey let her rigid posture drop, Michael placed both of his hands on each side of her head, pulling her close again to place another kiss on top of her head. “We’ve got this, Z,” he reassured her. She snaked her arms around to his back as the next song on her playlist began. They stood still in the silence as a familiar voice began to croon through the air. “Do you remember that I used to sing this to you to get you to sleep? It always did the trick after a rough day,” Michael mused as his hands brushed over her hair, reminiscing on days gone by. She leaned back to look up at her dad’s face before answering. “Of course I do! Why do you think I listen to it so often?”

The greying scruff on Michael’s chin made her giggle as it tickled her forehead where he left a kiss. “My sweet girl,” he mused as they began to sway again. She hummed along with the melody before Michael joined in, smooth voice lilting over the recording.

“Love me tender, love me long, take me to your heart. For it’s there that I belong and will never part. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For my darling, I love you and I always will.”

In true Clifford fashion, Zoey’s stomach rumbled through the otherwise quiet bedroom as the next verse began. It sent both of them into a fit of laughter, reminding Michael of the reason he came up to her room in the first place - the dinner waiting downstairs. Zoey stopped her playlist before they made their way to the kitchen, voicing their concerns that the cats had jumped up on the counter to help themselves.

———

Zoey couldn’t help the smile stretched across her full cheeks as she parked her car in front of her father’s home. As she reached for the door handle, her free hand lifted the back of her fiancée’s palm to her cherry chapstick-covered smile and she placed a series of small kisses. Allison’s warm eyes met Zoey’s gaze with a blissful smile of her own before she spoke hesitantly. “The last planning session before everything is in motion. Ready for all the questions from Mr. Wedding Planner in there?” Zoey’s eyebrows quirked up and she reached behind the seats to pull out her planning binder. “Ready if you are!” They stepped out of the car and laughter followed them through the front door to announce their arrival.

The butterflies in Zoey’s stomach hadn’t diminished even slightly since the moment Allison got down on one knee during family game night. Though if Zoey honestly thought about it, the butterflies had been there since she worked up the nerve to ask Allison to prom as her girlfriend. She hoped she’d have the flutter in the pit of her stomach as long as she had air in her lungs. 

The proposal had been intimate and thoughtful and sweet and perfectly them. Allison had enlisted Michael’s help, along with his long-term partner Calum, to spell out “marry me” on the game board during Scrabble. The three of them had needed to work together and it had taken a couple rounds of play for the right letters to show up. Zoey was so engrossed in the game that it took her a few beats to piece it together, even as Allison dropped to the floor in front of her while Michael tried to keep the happy tears from falling. Since then, the days had been speeding by at a dizzying pace and she felt like the big day would sneak up on her if she blinked too slowly.

They made their way through the home, cast in an amber glow from the autumn sunset, and found Michael and Calum putting the finishing touches on their typical Tuesday night dinner. Michael had always been a good cook but he’d thrown himself into more complex recipes with the extra time he had in his early retirement. The delicious aroma wafted through the open air to greet the brides-to-be as they exchanged familiar greetings with the gracefully greying men, arms held open expectantly. 

“I see someone came prepared,” Calum teased, pointing in the direction of Zoey’s wedding planning binder. “I learned from the best,” she winked in return. Calum had earned his living as an event planner before retiring to spend his days with Michael and he’d been all too eager to help out. Sometimes he was a little overzealous, especially when it came to flowers, but neither bride worried over it. He had thirty-something years of experience and they would put his expertise to good use as long as he wanted to help.

“Well? What are you waiting for? You know better than to be shy around here - dig in!” Michael’s cheerful lilt brought out a chorus of laughter as the four of them began to pile their plates high with his savory creations.

Dinner together was never dull; someone always had a story to tell. Allison was gunning for a big promotion at work while Zoey worked hard to manage the small business she started last year. Michael told of all the highs and lows in his cooking adventures that week and how he’d befriended a neighborhood cat that had appeared on their porch. Calum had warned him not to feed it but eventually found the bowl under the front steps that he’d been sneaking scraps into. In the years they’d lived together, Calum made the local farmer’s market a habit and that week Michael had finally gone with him. He should have known Calum would have everyone wrapped around his finger. He couldn’t help his amazement at the way Calum charmed all the vendors into some sort of special sale for his produce, flowers, or baked goods. He noticed that Calum was the only one who seemed to be privy to these discounts. Michael couldn’t even be upset though because Calum had gotten a beautiful sunflower bouquet just for him. Calum would never admit that he just wanted to know he still had it - whatever it was.

With four sets of hands, clean up happened quickly before the wedding binder was sprawled across the table. They spent the next few hours pouring over choices for every imaginable detail. Calum had helped them create a checklist and prioritize important items and extremely time sensitive details. They managed to cross off a few more items on the checklist before Michael decided it was time to bring out dessert - apple pie with the tart apples from the “Apple of My Pie” stall that Calum had recommended at the farmer’s market.

When she was sure Michael was out of earshot, Zoey leaned across the table to whisper to Calum. “So when are we doing this for you two?” she asked as she threw a glance at her dad’s back. Allison did her best to control her laughter at the obvious prying. Calum simply waved her off with a smile, “We’ve been together, what, twelve years? Just after you started college? I think he’s stuck with me at this point, ring or no ring.” Zoey’s inquisitive stare didn’t falter at Calum’s light humor so he continued to entertain her question with a more serious tone. “You know… we’ve talked about it but he always said he couldn’t remarry after losing your mom. I always thought I wanted a wedding, even just a small one for friends and family, but it’s one thing I won’t push him about.” Calum’s eyes were filled with adoration as they settled on Michael’s back where he stood carefully slicing the pie. “He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll take this in whatever way makes him comfortable, in whatever way he’ll have me.”

When he turned back to face her, to see if his answer satisfied her curiosity, her eyes were brimming with emotion and concern immediately painted his features before she spoke. “I always thought maybe he didn’t remarry because of me, because he didn’t want me to feel left behind or something. And maybe that’s selfish or strange. But I couldn’t be more thankful that he has someone as caring and thoughtful as you, Cal.” Her voice had a slight rasp to it as she swallowed down her overwhelming joy. She punctuated her sentiment by placing her hands over one of his on the table. As he sandwiched her hands between his, he told her how lucky he felt to get to spend the rest of life loving Michael and that he didn’t need a marriage certificate to do that. Allison placed a grounding hand across Zoey’s back as they all inconspicuously sat back into their seats just in time for Michael to return with apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream. If he suspected anything about the conversation between his daughter and his partner, he didn’t let on as they continued to make their way down the wedding checklist between delighted mouthfuls of pie.

The hours passed as they sat around the kitchen table picking out scripts for the invites, flowers for the ceremony, centerpieces for the reception, and favors for the wedding party. Allison stretched her arms over her head, soliciting several put off responses at the loud cracking noise her spine made. “Ew, yourself,” she joked as she rose from her spot at the table. As she moved toward the living room, she turned over her shoulder to suggest that they all take a break from hunching over the pages of options laid out in the binder. Everyone else seemed reluctant, not wanting to lose the momentum they’d already built up. Allison turned her back to them and made her way to the record player next to the couch. She carefully pulled a sleeve from the shelf and let it begin spinning before making her way back to the table where the others still sat. 

As she passed through the doorway, the beats of “Heartbreak Hotel” sounded through the room and she swung her hips wide with the best Elvis impression she could manage. The overstated moves earned a laugh from her fiancée and wolf whistles from the two men seated across from her. Allison pulled Zoey from her seat and shimmied them back into the living room for a dance break, despite Zoey’s protests that they still had several items to work through. Allison assured her that’s why she needed a dance break and that they’d get back to it as soon as the record needed to be flipped over. To Allison’s complete delight, Zoey caved and danced with her until the bluesy tune faded into a familiar ballad.

Zoey turned toward the dining room to find that Calum and Michael had followed to watch them from the safety of the door. The two men stood as if they were made to fit together. Michael’s head rested perfectly on Calum’s shoulder and his hands splayed softly across Calum’s stomach under Calum’s hands. Even so, Zoey knew she still had her dad wrapped around her finger after all these years. She put on the biggest puppy dog eyes she could manage and stretched out her arms before pleading with him, “The wedding’s still six months away, but I need to practice my dancing. Please, daddy, please.” His sheepish smile was bright in the low lamp light as he maneuvered around Calum. Michael placed a kiss to Calum’s smiling cheek as he squeezed through the door frame beside him. “You know I’ll never turn down a dance with my best girl,” he remarked as he took her in his arms. Calum, in turn, made a large sweeping motion as he bowed to Allison. “May I please have this dance?” Always a drama queen in every group. Allison laughed and took his hand, letting him lead her across the small room in an effort not to intrude on Zoey and Michael’s sweet moment.

Michael hummed along to the melody and his voice vibrated through his chest under Zoey’s head, sweeping a sense of nostalgia over her. “Dad?” she questioned as she lifted her head to look into his pale green eyes. They’d become even more pronounced over the years as the color faded from his hair, though he tried to hide behind the wide-rimmed glasses that stopped just above his full cheeks when he smiled. His eyes were slow to open and he only offered a hum in response. “What if we made this our father-daughter dance at the reception? I know it’s not a typical choice, but it would just mean a lot to me and -” Michael’s lips landed soft against Zoey’s forehead with a smile, immediately soothing her rambling mind. “I would love that, Z.”

Not trusting her mind and voice to work with her, Zoey simply nodded and nuzzled her head back into Michael’s chest, hugging him as close as possible. Michael’s smile grew as he tossed a glance across the room to where Allison and Calum swayed casually, lost in some giddy conversation if their expressions were any indication. With a contented sigh, he placed another kiss on top of Zoey’s curls. His voice was soft at first, only loud enough for Zoey to hear, but then it grew just enough to be heard over the record player as he sang.

“Love me tender, love me dear, tell me you are mine. I'll be yours through all the years, ‘til the end of time. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For, my darling, I love you and I always will.”

He couldn’t help watching Allison and Calum as they looked over fondly. Michael thought of all the times it was just him and Zoey against the world. Everything had changed so much since he lost her mom. He couldn’t believe how their little family had grown over the years and he was so proud of the life they’d made and the love they all shared. Michael tried not to let his emotions get the best of him, but he couldn’t help the crack in his voice as the last lines closed out.

———

taglist: @easierlftv @haikucal @mashlums @youngblood199456 @calumbroutledge @alltimesos @another-lonely-heart @castaway-cashton @itsjen223 @bloodyoathcal @vapor5sos​ @myloverboyash​ @justhereforcalum​ @karajaynetoday​ @spicycal​ @devilatmydoor​

[vocalyunho]

Split

B{oyfriend}est Friend - part two (part one)

pairing — Wooyoung x Female! Reader (San is only mentioned).

genre — angst, romance, smut, in no particular order.

word count — 4.8k

warnings — other than the angsty part...mentions of drinking and smoking, oral sex (reader receiving), clit play, fingering, explicit unprotected sex, the eagle (position), hitting it from the back, multiple orgasms, slight spanking.

“I love you, I’m sorry”

It’s been a month since that night, but San’s words keep replaying in your mind every day.

“Don’t say anything...I don’t wanna hurt more”

None of the three of you have brought up what happened that night. You keep meeting up -not as frequently as you used to, San seems to be busy most of the time- and acting as you did before, but not really. It feels like they’re both trying to forget about this ‘experience’, but you can’t. Nothing’s the same for you anymore. Your childhood best friend admitted he loved you, for fuck’s sake! You can't brush it off like it’s nothing.

“...that’s why ‘I love you’ has more of an emotional effect on the brain when it’s whispered into the left ear”. Your train of thought got interrupted by your professor’s voice and you felt your heartbeat increasing.

“have you ever been told you’re loved this way, sir?” the boy in front of you tensed up visibly at the professor’s question.

“n-no”

“Let’s hope you’ll get told soon, then”

Your mind traveled to that night again. San had whispered it in your ear, afraid of Wooyoung hearing him. You can still hear his erratic breathing while saying it, but in which ear was it? You can’t recall this detail at all. Or... what if, maybe, you imagined it, you thought he said it but he never did. Is that it? Your mind could have just played a game at this moment of euphoric pleasure that made you hear such a heavy thing from him. No, this can’t be it, this isn't a thing you can just imagine of, it has to be told to always have it in mind like you do.

The past month you had more than enough time to think of what happened and why. You've stayed numerous of nights in, all alone, with the excuse that you have lots of studies and projects due to the upcoming weeks, but all of them were only your secret way to stay with yourself and your latest best friends, wine and cigarettes. And that's exactly what you did after all lectures today were over. It's already dark outside but still only 8pm and as you're sitting on the couch and the second glass of wine slowly empties itself, a third one seems very inviting right now. There's nothing new to think about...all you do is just overthink everything over and over again and letting all the guilt eat you alive, like you have nothing better to do.

Your feelings are all over the place, a mess if you will. You don't even know what or how you feel anymore. You brought this all to yourself but, still, your heart keeps beating faster and faster when you replay San's words in your mind. You thought the crush you had on him when you were kids had stayed in the past. You were sure you had completely grown out of it and, especially, after you both entered college, because he had his good number of girlfriends or, maybe, 'experiences' and you had too. And after you met Wooyoung, who's the best guy you've met so far, everything seemed perfect but was it, really?

After gulping down the last drops of the wine and putting out the cigarette, you made your way to your bedroom to get a small backpack ready for staying over at Wooyoung's tonight. He seemed more serious today than other times. When he asked you to meet him in the campus cafeteria before going home, you thought he wanted to spend some time with you before heading to his next class, but you were wrong.

“Do you wanna stay over tonight?”, he had asked with no expressions on his features.

“I was thinking of studying till late”

“Can’t you do that tomorrow?”

“I guess...I can”

Truth is, you had planned to reach out to San this evening. He might be acting normal when you meet, but not only has he been weirdly busy lately, but also he hasn’t sent you a single text the past month. You don’t even see his contact on your latest calls anymore. It’s like he doesn’t exist in your life, because other than seeing him on campus or when the three of you hang out, there’s no more contact after that.

“I’ll be home at around 8pm, can you come over maybe an hour later?”

“okay, baby”

“okay I’m off then, I’ll see you tonight”, he had said with, still, no expression but he did give you a kiss before heading to his next class, which lightened the heaviness in your stomach. He hadn't told you the reason why he wanted you to spend the night at his apartment...you usually stay over on weekends, but today’s Tuesday and you both have early classes tomorrow. Something was really bothering him, but you decided to wait till he was off classes and the busy day he had ahead of him.

You sat on the couch again, waiting for the right time to leave your apartment and you let your mind wander around again. Wooyoung had really agreed to do this and you know it’s something he wouldn’t agree to do with just anyone. He accepted it, because he trusts both you and San. But San has feelings for you and not just some feelings...he loves you. Fuck, the guilt is eating you alive. He loves you, but he hasn’t told you a single word about it since then.

You unlocked your phone and searched for his name. Having to search it up, instead of finding it on top of your DMs gave you a bittersweet feeling. You stayed there, staring at the bright screen, mentally debating if it’s really worth it to reach out to him.

8:48pm.

To Sannie ♡

“We need to talk”.

“Text me when you see this”.

Putting your jacket on and the backpack over it, you left and 10 minutes later you were face to face with a serious Wooyoung who just opened the door.

“hey, baby”, you smiled at him.

“come in, it’s cold”

He didn’t kiss you like he usually does and like he did this morning in the cafeteria, but you set your backpack in a corner and made your way to the living room in which Wooyoung was already waiting for you.

“Are you okay today? You seemed a little off on campus”, you said placing your phone on the coffee table.

“We need to talk”. Cold sweat washed your body. You knew what this was about.

“about what?”

“Do you still like me like you did in the beginning? Am I good enough?”, he looked at you and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Of course, Wooyoung...is that even a question?”

“Then why did this threesome happen?”

His question caught you off guard, but it felt like you were expecting to get it at some point. Why had it happened, really? There’s no logical and right state of mind in which this idea would strike one’s mind.

“I...don’t know...”

“That’s not an answer” he stared in your eyes, “you were the one who suggested it”.

“honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking”, your eyes met the floor. You really don’t know what was going through your mind that night. You had spoken too fast without letting your tongue dive in your mind first.

“Did you really want him to fuck you this bad?”

“what! NO!”

“well, it seemed like it though...was the ‘threesome’ just an excuse, so that the guilt of cheating on me wouldn’t eat you up later?”, he emphasized the word threesome with air quotes and cocked a brow at the end.

“No, Wooyoung...you got the wrong idea!!”

“It hurts, Y/N”

You froze. His voice got low suddenly, almost like a whisper, like he never meant to say it out loud. It never crossed your mind how he felt about it. What would you have thought if he had asked one of his girl friends to have a threesome with you? Suspicion would be the number one thing in your mind. Suspicion, because it’d mean that you’re not doing enough, you don’t please him enough, you’re not being enough and that’s exactly what the thing you had asked for, made him think. You were so blind by lust that his feelings passed by you without touching you a bit. You made him question himself, you made him insecure. You couldn’t see his eyes, not even his entire face, but your mind only told you to step closer and grab his hands.

“Baby, look at me”

“Y/N, I’m not stupid”, he snapped his head up to meet your gaze.

“I was too taken aback and, maybe, too overwhelmed at the sight of my closest people almost fighting for me. I think, I got carried away by the strong emotions of the moment. I’m not trying to find excuses, because there aren’t any, but the one thing I’m sure about is that I didn’t intend for this to happen, I hadn’t planned it and I had never even thought of it, for fuck’s sake!”. You were looking straight at his eyes, your eyebrows slightly furrowed by the wave of emotions hidden in your mind right now.

“I get that making a scene about him acting weirdly around you, was probably too much at the moment, but I do see how he looks at you, Y/N”.

“He doesn’t look at me in any way, Wooyoung”.

“You have no idea how he looks at you, because you never see him. But at this moment -as he was making love to you- he looked so drunk in you, like he had been dreaming about it, like he had been asking for it his entire life”.

“He’s my friend, Wooyoung and I get it, this night was a big fucking mistake that I never want to make again”.

“he might be, but he wants to be more than that”

“I can assure you, he doesn’t”

“San likes you, Y/N!”

“STOP! I know him since we were kids...if something was to happen, it’d have already happened! Now, please, cut this nonsense”, you felt him tense up before letting his hands go.

“No, I won’t! I could see how much he was enjoying having his dick shoved inside you. And you were enjoying it too!!”

“Are you even hearing what you’re saying?”

“It was like all he ever wanted was that, that exact thing that happened that night except for me being there! He has feelings for you, strong ones, and I don’t know if he’s trying to hold them back because we’re together or for any other reason he has in his mind. I don’t know what he’s trying to do!”

“WOOYOUNG STOP”

“HE FUCKING WANTS YOU Y/N AND MAYBE YOU DO TOO”

“That’s it, I’m leaving”, you grabbed your phone from the table next to you and moved fast to the corner where your backpack was left. “When you get a hold of yourself, reach out to me”, you grabbed the bag and left his apartment with a loud bang on the door.

You lied. Yes, San is your best friend and yes, you know him since you were kids, but after what happened and especially after what slipped out of his lips, you know you’re not friends anymore. At least, not just friends anymore. Wooyoung is right, San does have feelings for you and has been keeping them secret for God knows how long. But why now? Why did he have to tell you how he feels now? Now, that you're in a relationship with his good friend, now that your heart is at its most vanuerable state. Your heart feels heavier than ever before. Everything got so complicated and it’s all your fault. You don’t know what you should do, what is right to do and for God’s sake, you don’t know what you feel. Your heart is split in two, your mind is split in two, even your body was split in two for two different people one night about a month ago.

Would it have been better if you had stayed silent when Wooyoung snapped or would you feel guilty for letting them fight for you, literally right in front of you? Was it better that you tried to stop them by saying whatever came to your mind, leading to everything that happened afterwards? Things wouldn't be this way if you hadn't talked and most of all, what in the hell did you gain from speaking, other than fucking your boyfriend and your best friend at the same time? A best friend that hasn’t contacted you at all, a boyfriend that doesn’t trust you and questionable feelings for both. Great.

You were walking so fast, you didn't realise you reached the entrance of your building, until your phone vibrated in your pocket. You took it out and seeing a notification from San your heartbeat increased, but the chilly weather made you shiver and get in the warmth of your apartment before unlocking your phone and seeing what he had sent you.

9:47pm

From Sannie ♡

"I'm sorry"

You sat on the sofa and stayed there, staring at the text for a couple of minutes trying to guess the meaning behind the apologetic tone. Could he be sorry for saying he loved you? Could he be taking it back? You gave up fast though, it’s not the time for guesses.

9:49pm

To Sannie ♡

"about what, San?"

9:50pm

from Sannie ♡

"I can't take it back and I won't, but I'm really sorry about everything. I'm sorry for agreeing to take part in what happened, I'm sorry for not thinking straight and being an asshole while you're in a relationship, but mostly I'm sorry to you".

9:52pm

to Sannie ♡

"I think we should talk".

9:52pm

from Sannie ♡

"I know I caused a lot of problems, but I want you to know that I meant it".

Reading the last three words, your body got hotter. In a matter of seconds, you thought you were on fire and your heart clenched hard, like you were in need of this confirmation.

Why are you feeling like this? Why are you still feeling like you've been waiting for this? You're in a fucking relationship and you like Wooyoung, you do. But, San. Wooyoung was right, you asked them to have a threesome, but why? Did you really wanna feel San close to you, with the more intimate meaning behind the word? By making love to you? Was it a way to confirm your suspicions that you still like him?

You wanna cry, but this is all too real to do so. It's not like the movies, anymore. You can't laugh at the protagonist for not knowing how they feel. You can't scream at the screen in an attempt to make them see the truth. You can only pity yourself for bringing you at this situation. You can only be ashamed of yourself for making the two most important people in your life question everything. You can only see how you've fucked up everything around you.

Are the feelings you had for San back then not so gone, after all?

You couldn't bring yourself to answer on that last text. You didn't know how to and you didn't try because your phone started vibrating and ringing, suddenly.

"hey", you answered rubbing your eyes with your free hand.

"I'm sorry", the voice spoke and your mind went hostile at your own self. Wooyoung is the one you like, Wooyoung is the one you're in a relationship with, Wooyoung is the one that makes you happy every single day, not San. San is your friend and, yes, you used to have some feelings for him but you just USED TO.

"Wooyoung, I like you. A lot, okay? This night meant nothing to me, I only want you". You snapped your head up and talked so fast, so desperately like you're trying to convince yourself first that this is the truth and then him.

"Can I come over, baby? Let me talk to you with my mind in my head, this time"

"yes, please"

"I'll be there in 5"

It felt like he took forever to reach your place when, in reality, it wasn't even 5 minutes later when he rang your bell and sprinted up the stairs. Your door was wide open and you were waiting patiently with your eyes stuck on the floor, until he stopped dead in his tracks right before entering your apartment. You looked at him and he hugged you without much thought. He was warm and, letting yourself get lost in his embrace, it felt like this is the only thing you needed. No talking, no more overthinking, no more mistakes, but you knew this wasn't possible. You have to make yourself clear, so you escaped from his hug without really wanting to.

"come in"

"I think I overthought this too much". he blurted out and you walked to the living room as he followed behind you, before sitting on one side of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees.

"It's my fault. If I hadn't spoken so fast, nothing of this would've happened". You sat next to him, leaving enough space for a hypothetical third person to sit between you and looked at the floor.

"no, I'm sorry I doubted how you feel about me. I got so...jealous thinking that he’s better than me, that I couldn’t keep myself content”.

“no one’s better than you”.

“...and I know how you feel about me and I feel the same about you, baby".

Your heart skipped a beat, not the same way it did when that 'I love you" had reached your ears. It was more like a 'guilty type' of skipping a beat, but you let it fly away.

"I don't know what had gotten into me, Wooyoung...but whatever it was, I don't want it to get to me again".

"it won't, I promise you that". He turned his head towards you and you felt his eyes travel to all your features. From your eyes, to your cheeks and, finally, to your lips and he stayed there for a bit, before bringing his body closer to yours and his hands up to your arms to caress them. He hesitated slightly, before getting a hold of your chin and connecting your lips. His hand travelled up and down your arm and his lips were soft and tender against yours. It wasn't until you hummed in the kiss, that he deepened it and from a slow dance between lips, it turned into a sloppy make out session. His head was tilted when he bit your lower lip asking for permission for his tongue slip in your mouth and when it did, a soft moan from you accompanied it.

"baby..."

"shhh"

You felt dizzy by the lack of oxygen and, maybe, he did too because he backed away and, as you breathed in and out fast, he took the chance and made you lie on your back. His lips hovered over the hot flesh on your neck as he spoke softly "let me make you feel good, like no one else can, okay?"

"please do..."

With a huff, he started kissing and biting hungrily on it. Not only did your body feel weak under his actions, but it felt like your vocal chords had a mind of their own when he sucked harshly on your collarbone. You flinched and he held you steady by shoving his hand between your legs, but you instinctively forced them shut trapping it between them. He lifted his head and stared at your lips before pushing your legs open to slide your pants and underwear down. You took your shirt off, leaving you only in your bra and he did the same. It felt like it had been ages since you last saw him shirtless and you kind of missed it. Reaching for the toned muscles on his chest you caressed it slowly, travelling all the way down to the drawstring of his sweatpants till your eyes fell on his growing boner that's already showing through the fabric.

“we'll take care of everything”, he said and hovered over you again before kissing the valley between your breasts. He moved down, taking the time to give attention to every part and when he kissed right above your clit, your mind went hazy. Wooyoung, spread your legs and let his tongue lick a stripe up your hole to your clit as your hands gripped his hair fast. You felt your eyes getting heavy.

“Wooyoung...”, you whimpered. His fingers pulled your hood apart and when he licked tiny circles over the clit you went crazy.

“fuck—”

His tongue played with the little bundle of nerves when he suddenly inserted two fingers in your hole. If it wasn’t for his left hand gripping your inner thigh tightly, he’d have lost contact with your body by the way you flinched. He dragged them in and out of your tight hole fast, not letting you get used to the sudden stretch, and when your whimpers turned into moans he added a third one as his tongue flicked rapidly against your clit.

“ohmygod imgonnacome-”, you pulled his hair hard and your gazes met, but your expressions were so different. Yours was all scrunched up, close to reaching your climax, but his had a dirty smirk on it while his tongue played around with your clit right in front of your eyes.

“p-please, I need you”

He asked pressure and your back arched and your head pressed on the couch right before Wooyoung left your clit with a pop and took his fingers out after a few last quick pumps.

His dick’s demanding in your sight. You were trying to calm down but you reached for his sweatpants and, pulling them down along with his underwear, his cock sprung up needier than ever before. The sight of your pussy gushing wetness made him twitch and you got more desperate by the second. Grabbing his length with one hand, he guided himself in your entrance and pushed in with a smooth move. He groaned and bottomed out easily.

“fuuck-” Your mouth hang open at the stretch and -not even giving you a second to get used to it- he thrusted lazily but harshly in you.

“Jesus Christ, so tight”, he grabbed your ankle and pushed it up, holding it there. Wooyoung rolled his hips in and out, quickening the pace with every thrust, faster than usual.

You weren't sure if he was just really needy or if he thought that's what you wanted but he kept quickening his thrusts, like he was trying to show you you're his and only his. You couldn't complain though, the felling between your legs shadowed all thoughts and your moans took over your mind.

"ohmygod, that's it"

"do you like that, baby?”, he had a smirk on his face and you saw his free hand move to your lower stomach and staying there and before you could wonder why he did that, he pressed on the small bump his cock formed on your belly. Your mind went dizzy as he pressed down on it every time he pushed his length back in.

"ohmygoddnnghh-"

Every thrust of his hips got accompanied by a loud gasp and your head pounded like crazy, until a louder cry left your lips and you felt him twitch. Your walls clenched around his length as he grabbed your other ankle and held both of your legs on each side of his head. The different angle immediately made you reach another level of pleasure and his groans got louder, huskier, needier.

"can he make you feel this good?"

"fuck imgonnacome-"

"can he fuck you like I do?"

"shit- there there-"

"only I can make you feel like this, fuuckk-"

You clenched hard around him and he pulled out with effort before coming in hot spurts, some of which landed on the couch and some on your stomach. Your legs flopped down on each side of his body fast, senseless and your lips turned into a silent scream as you felt your juices warming your thighs while they spilled out slowly. You were panting and your muscles flexed and unflexed as you rode out your high. Wooyoung was right in front of you but if it wasn't for his loud groans, you wouldn't have seen how he was stroking his cock fast, up and down again and again, making him hiss as he got hard again.

His eyes were dark when they met yours "turn around".

"I-"

"turn around and hold on the couch"

You mind was blank, but you did as he said and even though your spills dripped all the way down to your knees when you kneeled on the couch, you faced the back of the sofa with the pillows still in their place. Your elbows rested on the couch and you put your head between them, tilting it at the process. The small opening under your arm helped you take a peek at Wooyoung's actions, who was still pumping his length fast with his lower lip between his teeth and his eyes on your ass now. “this is all mine”, a smirk crawled onto his face and you felt yourself getting wet again or, maybe, wetter and you wiggled your hips a bit. You don't know if you're able to take him a second time, but the wetness in your cunt keeps increasing.

He saw you looking at him and a second later you felt his hand smacking your ass hard, drawing a loud cry from you. It stung and your face fell on the couch morphing at the pain. "Open them more", you did as he said.

"pplease, slowly"

His hands grabbed your cheeks, pulling them apart, and guided himself in your entrance again before burying his dick fast in your pussy.

"OHMYGOD-"

Your fingers dug onto the couch but he grabbed your shoulder and brought your body up, your back flat against his chest as his right hand held on your face by the chin "take it all, baby", he groaned against your ear and slapped his hips hard against your ass.

It was like your mind completely forgot your previous orgasm when you felt him all inside you again. Your body jolted but he held you tighter by the chin as his left hand roamed all over your body. He's never done anything like this before, he's never been this rough on you, he's never taken you a second time right after the first one, he's never tried to make himself hard again right after coming.

You absolutely lost your mind again when he quickened the pace, you whole body moved forwards and then backwards at the rhythm of his hard thrusts and your hair got all over your face, some strands sticking on the sweaty parts.

You felt him deep and then deeper and deeper and everything around you started disappearing and getting replaced by stars. He's pounding into you and each thrust calls for a loud huff against your ear, but your own cries and the sound of skin slapping against skin overshadows his panting.

“oh fuck! yes ohmygodnnghh yes-" you can’t feel anything anymore, your lower part has gone numb. Other than the sweet abuse of your hole and the knot getting tighter in your stomach, you can’t feel anything else.

"come around my cock", he growled loud.

"yesyesyes-"

"do it, CUM"

“s- so close-”

“ALL OVER ME”

“I’m com- fuuuck SAN--"

Your body jerked at your orgasm hitting you and Wooyoung stopped moving "what did you say?", he pulled out fast letting your body go and the weakness made you fall forward but your hands kept you up holding at the back of the couch. Your cum was getting spilt on your thighs again and it took you a moment to come back to reality and realise what had slipped out of your mouth. 


"what did you say??"

"Wooyoung...”, you looked back at him, guilt drawn on your face and voice barely a whisper, but you couldn’t move.

“I fucking trusted you”

...

[sierraraeck]

Staying Hidden

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Aundreya reveals everything that has been going on, and visits some of the team members in the hospital while trying to evade notice. Story eighteen.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Brief mention of sexual assault, drug use, and death.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: I still know nothing about how gangs work, this is all for entertainment purposes.

I have some explaining to do.

My given name from birth was Clara Spade. If you recall, I grew up with divorced parents and a sorry excuse for a father. When I was 14, I witnessed a mass killing by one of the most infamous serial killers of all time, the Storefront Slaughterer. Somehow, I was spared, but my identity was soon leaked to the media, and my mom, sister, and I were put in witness protection. At this point, my identity was changed along with my name, which was now Cassy Sae. I don’t know how, and I never figured out when the Slaughterer caught wind of my whereabouts, but he did, and he followed me home one night. He burnt my entire home down, taking the remaining two members of my family with it. I jumped out of the back window, barely surviving until Agent Gideon found me and took me back to his isolated cabin house in practically the middle of nowhere. As the news reported, Cassy Sae died in that fire as well, the same day Aundreya Chambers came into existence already at the age of 15. I attempted to go back to school, live as close to a healthy and normal life as I could, but I let my rage get the best of me. I decided that I wanted to hunt down the man that took everything from me, dropping out of high school. I left Gideon, telling him that I couldn’t burden him anymore and had to do whatever came next for me on my own. He reluctantly let me leave, and I found myself on the streets of Chicago. There, in a small self defense gym I’d started frequenting after hours, I met a girl only a few years my senior named Xena. She befriended me and admired how quickly I was picking up on all of the concepts being taught, despite the fact that I never officially took a class, only watched thinking I was going unseen. Xena told me about a group of people who could help and protect me, and before I knew it, I was meeting a man in his early 50s who went by the name of Rafael. Little did I know that I had just been coaxed into joining one of the most feared and revered gangs in the northeast.

One of the first things I learned was how to make money in the form of dancing. It was also when I created the Alionth persona. I was one of the youngest members to have ever joined the Cloaks (I was almost 16 at the time but it was an unspoken agreement that I was now 18), and I picked up on most everything very quickly. I started out low in the ranks, mainly just dancing and drawing new members in or being a distraction while another operation was going on behind the scenes. At one point, I remember that an operation wasn’t going as planned and they needed information from a patron at the club. I wanted to help out and be a part of the ‘more important things’ so badly, that I took initiative without permission. I started performing for the patron, and pick-pocketed him in the midst of it. I returned to Xena, and another boy, with the information I’d gathered from his phone and wallet. It helped them complete their operation, and they were impressed with my skills, even though they were irritated I did it without permission. After that night, I started moving up the ranks. It was also that night that the boy I’d met earlier with Xena started using me. His name is Jamar, but most people know him by his last name, DeLeon. He was the 19 year old son of another revered gang leader. Rafael happened to be close friends with his father, and agreed to look after DeLeon after he died. Rafael also took in the members of that gang, which helped spike the power and ‘popularity’ (for lack of a better word) of the Cloaks. DeLeon and his rowdy friends were hard to control, so in order to appease them, Rafael essentially let them do whatever they wanted, as long as it didn’t hurt the Cloak name. The ‘Cloak name’ did not explicitly include Cloak members.

I was fresh, and had skills that apparently made me ‘special,’ so DeLeon and his boys decided I would be a great way to celebrate the success of that night. And ‘come on, you’re half the reason it went so well. Don’t you want to celebrate with us?’ This was also my first exposure to hard drugs. I was on and off them from here on out.

But beyond that, once I started to be recognized for my pick-pocketing abilities, and being able to track people down for information, I got moved to be a private informant for the gang, and I was damn good at it too. I spent the most time communicating my findings with Xena and DeLeon, so they became the closest people to me. In all of my free time, I looked for the Slaughterer. When I finally found him and asked Xena and DeLeon to help me set up a trap for him, they helped me without hesitation. It was my idea to tip off the FBI, which they were obviously hesitant about at first. But I convinced them that if we caught one of the FBI’s most wanted, and instead of hurting him turned him over to the FBI, it would make us look better to them and hopefully keep them off our asses. We discussed it with Rafael himself, and he thought that it was a good idea. I was surprised and relieved, and once the FBI had the Slaughterer in custody and everything went according to plan, it was enough to get me moved up to the rank of ‘Head of the PI unit.’ That’s when I started being known as The Figure. I was 18 at the time, and for a while I seemed untouchable. I was training other members, three of which were Sydney, Deen, and Corbyn, my three closest friends going into the ring, and we were finding people left and right. I scoped out traitors and infiltrators as a part of my lead job (that’s when I met Christina who was working with Derek at the time), and the gang seemed to be as strong as ever.

Then, one day, I found out that Xena Adaland is the granddaughter of Rafael Adaland, the gang’s leader. She, like DeLeon, was three years older than me, and was pissed that I was now higher in the ranks than she was. She challenged me for my PI spot, and the rules were simple. Whoever lost, would leave.

The day before the challenge, which would be a series of fighting, investigating, and persuasive tactics, Rafael came to me and told me that I had to win, no matter what it took. I was stunned, and even though I pushed for more information, he wouldn’t tell me why. Regardless, I did win, and Xena was forced to leave, and her grandfather let her. No, not just let her, he encouraged her. Once she left, I essentially became the replacement daughter to Rafael, which meant I was in even closer contact with DeLeon. Our relationship had always been very twisted, but once I was under more direct protection by Rafael, he almost completely stopped how he’d been treating me. Almost. I didn’t understand how fucked up it was at the time, but we even started dating once he started treating me better. However, there were bigger problems. The FBI was closing in on us, which I later found out was the reason why Rafael was okay letting Xena leave. He wanted her safe and away from this mess when it imploded. Rafael and I had been working closely side by side for a year now, and I could tell he was feeling like he had nothing left. Xena was gone, his life’s work of building a foolproof gang was collapsing, and DeLeon was slowly pulling away. He and I both knew that the FBI and police were looking for someone to blame, someone to go down for this, and only one of us was going to get out of this whole thing. He all but told me I had his blessing to screw him over and take the gang for myself. I was 19 and he was almost 60, so he knew that the one thing he might be able to leave was a legacy, one that I might be strong enough and smart enough to carry on. What he did tell me, was that what he was about to do was for me and for the rest of the gang, and that it would take the heat off of us, long enough for us to preserve what was left of the gang. For a while, I thought that he would be turning it over to Xena or DeLeon, but when it came down to it, it was me that he chose. I took it in stride and with honor.

That night, when Rafael ended up dead in his office, I fully understood what he was talking about before. If the FBI found the gang’s leader dead, they would have someone to blame, and the spotlight would no longer be on me or really any of the rest of the members. The gang would essentially collapse.

DeLeon had different ideas, though. He thought that I had killed Rafael, the closest thing to a dad he could remember, and was out for revenge. He returned to his old ways of treating me, and left me with a scar to prove it. I fought through all of that shit, knowing I still had a responsibility to protect and salvage the gang. I had to tell them to disperse and find me in a month or so when things had cooled down. I pushed the gang underground, and that was the start of the ring. Whoever could find me again would have passed the first test to see if they were worthy or not to be in my new ring.

Deen found me first, then Sydney, then Corbyn. Others came to me as well, either from the gang or outside of it with other skills that were desirable. I started going by the name Alionth, and the former gang got turned into my ring of elite criminals. I ran a tight ship underground until I was 21.

Xena had been marinating in anger since she lost to me, and decided to get back at me by hurting one of my best friends. She kidnapped Sydney while on a job, and threatened to hurt her if I didn’t show up. It had only been days prior that I met Sydney’s husband Todd and her newborn daughter, Jayana, who I ran into again on my second case with the team. I should have known it was a trap from the beginning, but I’d been getting cocky and wasn’t exactly thinking straight, due to the amount of drugs pumping through my system.

I showed up and was ambushed by both Xena and DeLeon, who explained to me that they’d found each other again after the Cloaks crashed. They bonded over their mutual hate for me, and decided to fuck me over together. They killed Sydney right in front of me, and then left just in time for the FBI to capture me and throw me in prison. If you remember, I was in there for four years from 21 to 24, and then I escaped. I ran right back to my ring, which accepted me with open arms. I was laying low for a while, and decided I’d let things cool off before taking the lead again. Before I could do that, though, I received an interesting visitor.

Agent Howard Archer came to visit me, and he wasn’t there to arrest me. He was there to hire me. He told me about the BAU and a certain unit chief he was not a fan of. He was just a step higher than Aaron Hotchner, and did not like the way he was running the BAU. Not to mention, Hotch was a threat to Archer’s position, and there was a potential competition between the two for the vice-presidency if something were to happen to the vice president. Archer wanted to ensure his future spot, and needed Hotch, and the VP, out of the way. He later informed me that another reason he had such a strong distaste for Aaron was because he failed to solve a case involving the murder of Archer’s son. I asked if he had a preferred way to get two FBI agents out of his way, and he told me he was familiar with my work and was prepared for whatever consequences followed. In other words, he would be satisfied with me killing the vice-president, and pinning it on Hotch.

He had me from the moment he introduced himself as an agent.

I went in to meet the team, which did not go as well as planned. Either way, I agreed to help Archer, and privately investigated each member after that first day. I knew Hotch from my past when I was still in contact with Gideon, but I didn’t think it would be as hard as it was. I thought that I could just come in, get the job done, and then move out. The problem was that there was an odd sense of loyalty to this man I’d met only a few times. It was odd, how he seemed to respect me, and he was even the first person (outside of Gideon and the people I worked with on the streets) that actually accepted my skills. I was one of the ‘bad guys’ from prison, but he always seemed to have some sort of appreciation for my information and willingness to work with him. There was just something about him that was calming, and each day I spent with the team, the harder it became for me to follow through. Aaron Hotchner was a natural born leader, and he was phenomenal at his job. Not to mention that the rest of the team, the rest of his family, really did care about him. I started questioning if I’d be able to tear apart this family, especially when I didn’t agree with Archer at all. Archer claimed that Hotch didn’t run the BAU well, but after spending time under his leadership, I totally disagreed. I also started building connections with people who weren’t obligated or pressured to like me like basically everyone else in my life. They made me feel better about myself, about my abilities, and I realized there was a constructive way in which I could use them. They unknowingly convinced me that I didn’t have to stay on the path of destruction I’d been on for my whole life, and that I could actually make something of myself, something that I didn’t hate. Something I could wake up every morning to and look in the mirror and not hate who was looking back at me or what she was doing everyday.

So I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to follow through with what I had agreed to do. Archer was persistent, though. He checked in on my progress, and at first I told him it would take time, which it would. But by the end of the three years I’d spent with the team, my excuses were just becoming lame. Not to say that the events that followed were lucky, because the whole Spencer and me going to prison thing was not lucky, but it gave me a legitimate excuse as to why I wasn’t working towards ‘the goal.’ It also gave him an excuse to come and threaten me while in prison. I didn’t know how I was going to get out of my deal with Archer, all I knew was that I had to. I was not going to tear that family apart, despite the fact that I already seemed to be doing that all on my own. But if they could survive the tornado that was me and my past, they deserved to be left alone after that.

Yet, I could tell that Archer had become restless, and the moment he mentioned going to someone else to get the job done if I couldn’t, I knew. He was the first one that really cemented my theory of Xena and DeLeon being back, but it was worse than I thought. He was working with them. Probably to do my job and kill me in the process, considering I knew his plans and could easily expose him, effectively wrecking everything. Unfortunately, he had no idea who he’d just gotten involved with, especially now that they were working as a team, and Archer was way too cocky and way too stupid to heed any of my warnings and assurances.

I had bigger problems at the moment, though. I always seem to.

Xena and DeLeon were back, and they were back with a vengeance. I knew that they had to be behind everything that had gone wrong. Some runner finding Maeve even before Spencer could, my father finding me and making weird comments like he knew what I had been up to, Spencer’s frame job and going to prison, and then of course, the detectives finding Spencer and I at my motel. I knew Xena had cameras in that room, and I saw her outside of the building as I was being shoved into the police car. I even wondered if they were behind the kidnapping of Derek’s cousin and Maeve. The three of us learned from the same person, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to match, hell overcome, the two of their minds working together. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to work both angles at the same time: stopping Xena and DeLeon from afar and Agent Archer from all too close. But honestly, it didn’t really matter, because I had to find and stop them before they could wreck anything else, no matter what it cost me.

So I left the hospital leaving only that simple note behind; my unofficial resignation from the BAU. If I went off the grid, Xena and DeLeon would have to spend all of their time chasing me, and would have no time to spare for messing with the team. At least, that’s what I hoped.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I was successful at staying hidden for about four months. While Xena and DeLeon hopefully didn’t have enough time or energy to keep tabs on the team, that didn’t mean I didn’t. I kept up with every case of theirs, and even left their main suspect tied to a chair in his living room one time as a sort of gift since he kept evading them. You know, since I was conveniently in the area at the time.

When I heard about the explosion, I rushed back to DC from some small town in Georgia. I’d been spending time in all different states and towns, hoping it would be enough to keep those urchins on my tail while I figured out a way to trap them. But this seemed more important, especially because there was a chance that whatever explosion hurt them could have been planted by Xena and DeLeon. I couldn’t be sure of anything regarding their involvement anymore.

I showed up to the hospital after hours, and stood outside the three adjacent rooms housing Derek, Aaron, and JJ. All three were hooked up to a plethora of machines, and were out cold. I just stood there watching them, convincing myself that this wasn’t somehow my fault with each steady beep of their monitors. The hospital was almost peaceful like this, which was odd for me to admit considering how much I hated them.

I don’t know how long I’d been standing there when I heard faint footsteps approaching from behind me. I whipped my head around to face the noise, but when I scanned the hallway behind me, there was no one there. You are getting really paranoid.

But I figured that’s what was keeping me alive, so I just rolled my eyes and moved on. I allowed myself only a few more minutes for now, making sure that the three of them were still alive before heading out.

I came back a couple days later to check on them again. I again did it in the middle of the night, so all three were in essentially the same state, but a bit more color had returned to their faces. I moved a couple paces over and leaned against the wall behind me. I shut my eyes for only a little bit, and when I opened them, I spotted her. Emily was sitting down in the chair in JJ’s room, her full focus and attention on the woman in front of her. I was in a corner of the mini lobby outside of their rooms, and by the looks of it, she hadn’t noticed I was there. My heart was racing as I attempted to slip by her room and out of the hospital. I had almost completely cleared the room when Emily made eye contact with me. It was for a split second, but it was enough for her to recognize me. I didn’t wait to see what happened, because I started a full on sprint out of the hospital.

I decided that I couldn’t go back there; it made me too careless. I was absolutely defenseless and in a weakened state of mind. It was too risky, for me and them alike. Staying hidden until I could figure a way out of this was my only option.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

The whole team had been shook by three of their members getting hurt in an explosion. They were all relieved that Derek, Hotch, and JJ were alive and that no serious damage had come to them. After closing the case Rossi and Preniss decided to be the ones that stayed with them, especially overnight. Penelope had stayed with them for four days straight while the rest of the team finished the case, so she deserved to be relieved of duty for a while, Tara got called to do more inmate interviews for research, and Reid just overall needed sleep. He’d been trying to figure out what Aundreya had meant by her note, where she was now, and what she was doing in all of his free time, including the midnight hours. Of course, everyone wanted to know more about these Xena and DeLeon characters, but even Garcia couldn’t find anything on them. Whatever was going on, there wasn’t really anything they could do about it. Reid knew this, but refused to give up. He finally agreed to go home, get some rest, and spend time with Maeve after some heavy convincing from Rossi and Prentiss. Which just left the two of them to be there together, or take shifts. A few days into it, Prenitss called Rossi in a minorly confused state.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you,” Emily started.

“I’m actually only a few minutes from the hospital, so that’s not a problem. What’s going on?” Rossi for the most part sounded calm, but Emily’s profiler ears could hear the slight concern behind them.

“Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong they’re all doing fine,” Emily started, and she heard a small sigh on the other end of the phone, “It’s just that, um…” Now that she was thinking about it, she wasn’t sure if she should tell anyone about Aundreya or not. Emily knew that whatever she was going through was very personal, and she probably didn’t intend on being seen, let alone having word get to the entire team. Plus, it probably wouldn’t benefit every member to know that she was around, but wouldn’t tell them what’s going on…

“What is it Emily?” Rossi questioned.

“I think… I think I just saw Aundreya. Here, in the hospital,” Emily answered. She wasn’t completely sure what to do with the information, and her and Rossi had always had a good relationship. He had this soothing, sturdy, knowledgeable vibe about him, and figured if she should tell anyone about this, it would be him. She also knew that Aundreya had trusted him, opening up about things she really hadn’t told anyone else, so it felt less violating to tell him.

“Hold on, I’m almost there,” was all Rossi offered before hanging up. It wasn’t exactly the reaction she’d been expecting.

When Rossi met her in the small lobby on that floor, he jumped right in with, “Yeah, I’ve seen her too.”

Emily’s eyes widened just slightly, but it didn’t really shock her either that he’d spotted her first. It just sort of made sense that he would. He always was better at keeping things a bit more compartmentalized and aware of his surroundings. Granted, Emily was pretty good at that herself, but when it came to her other team members, she could get a little clouded. “What should we do? Do we do anything?”

“I don’t think so. I’m not sure it would do any good, and she seems like she wants to handle this on her own,” Rossi replied.

“Whatever this is,” Emily pointed out. Rossi nodded, and after a few minutes, she added, “Is this what it was like when I was gone?”

Rossi turned to face her head on, “If you really want to know, yes. Except, we thought you were dead.” Not like we know for sure Aundreya isn’t, he thought, at least not yet.

“I’m so sorry for putting you all through that. It really sucks being on the other end of this. Not like the alternative is better…” Emily trailed off.

“You did what you had to do, and I’m sure Chambers is doing the same,” Rossi said with a small smile, “even if that means spending a few nights at my place.”

Emily looked over at him, mouth agape, “What? Are you serious?”

Rossi nodded. “I didn’t put it together until I saw her here a few days ago. I went home and just had this feeling that I wasn’t alone, and had heard a sound during the nights prior. I looked around my house and saw that one of the beds wasn’t made exactly like it had been for all the years I’ve lived there, and the window made the same squeaking sound I’d been hearing. I’ve tried to pay attention to when she’s there, but it’s very infrequent.”

“Probably random if she’s trying to fall off the radar,” Emily added.

A few more moments of silence passed before Rossi asked, “What would you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Her situation is somewhat similar to yours. If you were her, what would you be doing right now?”

It wasn’t a bad thought. They put themselves in the shoes of the unsubs all the time, why not use the same technique here? “Uh, well, I’d be trying to go underground right about now. She’s clearly running from someone, or multiple someones, which are probably those other two names on her list.” Emily thought a bit more and continued, “When it was me, I wasn’t only running from Doyle, but I was also running to Declyn. If she’s running from those two people, what or who is she running to?”

“That is a very good question,” Rossi agreed. They both pondered this for a little while longer before taking a break, realizing they weren’t going to come with the answer tonight, and definitely not at a hospital where three of their friends were staying.

“Are we sure we aren’t going to tell anyone?” Emily sounded concerned.

“I don’t think that will help. And there are people who I don’t think need to know this,” Rossi said with a knowing look, “But, if we get any more information, or just happen upon evidence that points towards her needing our help, along with something we can actually do about it, then maybe we will. But until then, I think you and I should keep this to ourselves.” Emily nodded and the pair remained in silence for the rest of the night, mulling over the next moves they’d make and next questions they’d ask tomorrow, hoping they’d be enough to make a difference.

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