#we’re on like chapter twenty eight or something

[s4sharkteeth]

time skip all the way to senior year anyone?

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[racinggirl]

racing hearts - chapter 1

a/n: chapter 1 is finally here! It took a while, but I really want to build it up slowly and have the plot be there. I love tension and angst and confident Lando so much. It might not be a lot of racing now, but it will happen later on. Don't worry.

If you like the story, don't hesitate to comment how much you like it, that keeps me going so much and it motivates me more than anything!

Comment down below if you want to get added to the taglist

warnings: dark!lando, confident!lando, business!lando, nothing much really, just rich people stuff.

Racing Hearts Masterlist

prologue

next chapter

Olivia

‘’Now, let’s cut straight to what brought you here. Let’s talk business, shall we?’’

The sound of his deep, dark voice scattered goosebumps all over my body. The way his eyes were focussed on mine, his gaze so intense I could swear he looked straight into my soul.

‘’Of course,’’ I reached for a glass of water one of the well-dressed waiters offered. My fingers brushed against the cool glass, the cold sensation bringing me a second of relief before it vanished again. ‘’Harrington Enterprises is always looking to expand its horizons.’’

Lando Norris, twenty-eight years old and one of, if not the most successful person I’d ever meet. With his career in racing, in which he was fighting for championships, to Velocity Estates, his real-estate business that was the best of the best. Every celebrity, businessperson or even royals would name themselves one of his clients; he was a man that could do it all.

He nodded slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. ‘’And what exactly do you envision, Olivia?’’ The way he said my name sent another wave of chills down my spine. ‘’What do you and your esteemed family hope to gain from this… collaboration?’’

I took a deep breath, meeting his gaze directly despite the nerves swirling inside of me. ‘’Our goal is simple,’’ I started, my voice steady as I gathered every bit of confidence I could find. ‘’We seek strategic partnerships that are mutually beneficial. We believe that combining your recourses with our expertise can create something truly extraordinary.’’

The corner of his mouth moved up another inch, but there was a darkness in his eyes that made my heart race. ‘’Mutually beneficial, you say? And what makes you so certain that your proposal is the one I should consider?’’  

My heart was full on beating against my chest, so hard I barely heard his voice over the loud drum in my ears. To say he was intimidating was an understatement. He looked like he could change the entire world in the blink of an eye. The confidence, paired with his looks; broad shoulders, a black suit that was tailored made for him, eyes so intense they could look straight through me, dark hair that fell over his head in a perfect but messy way. My mind wandered off to all the different ways my hands could be buried in his hair, tugging it, twirling my fingers around it…

A low shrug brought me back to reality, only to realise I had been staring at Lando for God knows how long. Shit, what was he talking about again? Right, mutually beneficial.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. ‘’Because, Mr. Norris, Harrington Enterprises understands the value of innovation and importance of staying ahead of the curve. We’re not just another company; we are pioneers in our field.’’

His smirk deepened and he took a step closer, the space between us shrinking. I swallowed the nerves in my throat as I felt his body heat piercing through my clothes, warming my body in ways I had never experienced before.

‘’Innovation and staying ahead of the curve?’’ His voice was as smooth as silk, yet rough like a sharp diamond. I tilted my chin an inch higher, even if it was just to convince myself I wasn’t intimidated by this man in front of me. ‘’Bold claims, Olivia.’’ His voice was a whisper, standing inches away from me. I could feel his minty breath on my forehead, causing me to close my eyes for only a brief second. My breath came out as a shudder; being in close proximity of Lando Norris made my heart beat faster than it ever had before. My previous adrenaline rushes such as bungee jumping or paragliding were nothing compared to the way my heart thudded in my chest.

‘’I’ll think about it.’’ The way he spoke was so full of confidence, words so carefully chosen yet so out of the blue.

I opened my eyes after what felt like minutes, but was actually just a few seconds, only to see the perfectly tailored black suit disappear in the crowd of people, leaving my mind with a million thoughts. I replaced the glass of water I was holding with a champagne-filled one. I brought the edge of it to my lips and swallowed the sparkly liquid.

This was going to be harder than I thought.

Lando

The moment I turned away from Olivia, I could feel the intensity of her presence linger on my skin. The playful yet serious encounter buzzed through my veins, electric and alive. There was something about her that made the usual game of business negotiations feel like a boring race. She was poised, confident, and incredibly captivating – exactly the kind of challenges I thrived on.

Making my way through the crowd filled with the richest of the rich, I couldn’t shake the image of her determined eyes – she was here on a mission – and the way her voice had wavered ever so slightly, betraying the nerves she tried so hard to conceal. It was rare to find someone who could hold their own against me, who could meet my gaze without flinching, even if it was ever so slightly. And yet, there she was, standing her ground with a quiet fierceness that I couldn’t shake off me.

Olivia was right, Harrington Enterprises was a formidable opponent in the business world, and with creating a partnership nobody saw coming, we could beat every other competitor in the blink of an eye.

However, it wasn’t just Harrington Enterprises that intrigued me. Olivia Harrington was something else, and the five minutes we shared together already exposed that there was something deeper than just a casual business negotiation between us. There was a challenge, and if there’s one thing I loathed, it was losing.

As I maneuvered through the sea of overly dressed rich people, I couldn’t help but replay our conversation in my mind. Her determination and sharp intellect were impressive, but it was the subtle, almost imperceptible signs of vulnerability that fascinated me. The slight quiver in her voice, the way her eyes widened ever so slightly when our gazes locked – it all pointed to a deeper complexity beneath her perfect exterior. And that damn dress.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne, which I kindly declined. I needed a clear head tonight, there was no room for any slip ups or mistakes, ever. I spotted Nate Thompson across the room, his expression smug as always. Engaging in small talk with him wasn’t on my happy-things-to-do list, but as a business owner you had to make a few sacrifices here and there.

‘’Enjoying the evening, Nate?’’ I asked, keeping my tone light and casual.

‘’Always, Lando,’’ he replied with a grin. ‘’Quite the event, isn’t it?’’

‘’Indeed,’’ I said, my eyes scanning the room once more. ‘’And quite the crowd.’’ Pun intended.

Our conversation drifted to mundane topics, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Olivia had ignited a spark within me – a challenge, a curiosity, and something much deeper than a business negotiation. I knew I needed to tread carefully, but the thrill of the chase was something I couldn’t resist.

The gala was winding down, but I had no intention of leaving without another encounter with Olivia. I needed to see those determined eyes again, to hear the confidence in her voice, and to feel that spark – whether it was more that pure business for her – between us.

With a final nod to Nate, I excused myself and set off in search for her, my mind already racing with strategies and possibilities.

As I navigated through the crowd of people, my eyes finally landed on her. She was standing by the balcony, looking out at the city lights with an intensity that matched her earlier demeanour. Her emerald green dress floated around her legs, the wind moving her hair in such an elegant way. I approached her slowly, savouring the moment, the anticipation building with each step.

‘’Olivia,’’ I said, my voice low and deliberate.

She turned to face me, her eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of surprise and something else – something I couldn’t quite place. ‘’Mr. Norris,’’ she replied, her voice steady but with a hint of that earlier vulnerability.

I stepped closer, the tension between us palpable. ‘’I’ve been thinking about our conversation,’’ I began, my gaze never wavering from hers. ‘’And I believe there’s more to discuss.’’

Her eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and wariness. ‘’More to discuss?’’ she echoed.

I nodded, a slow smile spreading across my lips. ‘’Yes. I think we both know that this partnership has the potential to be extraordinary. But it’s not just about business, is it? There’s something else at play here.’’

For a moment, she said nothing, her eyes searching mine as if trying to decipher my true intentions – which she failed at, I was too good at my game. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible nod, she said, ‘’Yes, I suppose there is.’’

TAGLIST

@smoooothoperator @tapedeck-hearts @cabbyhabs @wanderingreigns @samantha-chicago @alltoomaples @ironmaiden1313 @pinkbookloverslife @onlyzahraaaa @jazzyanneblogzzz @hiiii-haileyyyy

[christinesficrecs]

It's the time of the year where I sneak holiday fics into all my recs. 🤶🏻

Scent Left Unsaid by bleep0bleep | 2.5K | Mature

In a society where werewolves are second class, Deucslist is an alternative werewolf network (similar to Craigslist) where humans and werewolves offer (mostly sexual) services. Derek is a long-term client of an anonymous human omega whose scent is just perfect. He never expects to meet him, until it happens.

Derek has slept with that faded red hooded sweatshirt every night since he got it in the mail. It’s calming, that scent; it’s everything to him. So it’s strange now that Derek is smelling it wafting from the end of the subway car as it careens towards the L line, lights flickering on the passing platforms.

My World Is Filled With Cheer And You by bleep0bleep | 10.8K

In which Derek and his daughter are displaced just in time for the holidays, matched up with Stiles and his young son in a government protection program.

Sidequest  by bleep0bleep | 11.4K

Agent Derek Hale has been working up the courage to ask his partner Stiles out on a date (finally!) when he heads out on a solo mission—without Derek. Eager to provide support, Derek arrives in Beacon Hills, only there is no mission, and Stiles’ dad thinks Derek is Stiles’ boyfriend.

Well. It could be worse.

The Kiss Doctor by bleep0bleep | 3.5K

“That’s me,” Derek says. “Are you, um— the Kiss Doctor?” “Stiles,” is the reply, and the guy grins. It’s charming.

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affettuoso  by bleep0bleep | 13K

Derek mentally kicks himself for just standing there like a lovestruck fool, but it’s been exactly forty-six days since he saw Stiles, and he still remembers the taste of his skin, how Stiles feels underneath him.

The Gentleman And The Fox by  bleep0bleep, Inkforwords | 15.7K

Derek doesn’t expect much from his arranged marriage. When his inattentive husband, Lord Stiles Stilinski, tells him he’s free to look for a lover, he doesn’t know where to start, until a dashing bandit named the Red Fox catches his eye.

All's Fair in Orgasms and War by bleep0bleep | 63.2K | Explicit

The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

nom de plume by  bleep0bleep | 3.9K

There are no more chapters. 22 is the last one. Derek groans in despair. He has to know what happens.

Five Times Detective Stilinski and Fire Captain Hale Had Sex In Public, and One Time They Did It In A Bed by bleep0bleep | 32.8K

“Did you say–” Stiles starts.

“What?” Derek growls.

“We’re not a couple!” they both retort in unison.

“We’re not together,” Stiles insists.

Lydia coughs pointedly. “An incident report filed by 87th Precinct Captain Erica Reyes. March twenty-fifth, eight p.m. Came back to the precinct to grab my coat, only to hear Stilinski banging his new boyfriend in the holding cell.”

i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me) by bleep0bleep | 10.5K

Derek gets in an accident and loses a few years of his memory; suddenly everything is different— he’s not a freshman loser anymore, but a popular senior, captain of the basketball team, a shoo-in for prom king, too, and he should have everything he’s ever wanted— except he doesn’t seem to be friends with Stiles anymore.

Mauve by bleep0bleep | 7.3K

It’s been ten years since he’s seen Derek Hale, but Stiles would recognize that ass anywhere.

remember my love by bleep0bleep | 23.3K

Stiles wakes up and suddenly the war is over, he's no longer a penniless mage, and living in an exquisite manor married to the man he's been in love with for far too long.

“It’ll be fine,” Stiles says gallantly. “I am certain I will just fall in love with my husband all over again, and I will find plenty of joy doing that.” He winks at Derek for good measure. Derek blinks.

of course, of course by bleep0bleep | 12.9K | Explicit

Derek swallows, watching Stiles mull over the paperwork. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” Stiles says, licking his lips. He signs with a flourish and pushes the contract back at Derek.

Derek knows every word of the contract by heart, but his heart stutters anyways when a sentence jumps out at him. The client acknowledges that any bond created during the heat session is temporary.

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

---

Chapter Eight: Home, Safe.

Now Playing: Everlong by Foo Fighters

Charlie was pissed when he found out that Bella had run off to Italy to save Edward. I couldn’t really blame him.

Jacob was pissed that she was running back to him after all the shit he put her through. The rest of the pack agreed, but I thought they were a little biased. I agreed with them, so I suppose I was biased, too.

I was grounded for not telling Charlie about Bella leaving, so for the entirety of Spring Break I was locked in the house until Charlie fell asleep. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? I sounded like my sister.

When Charlie fell asleep, I would slip through my window and into the woods. Jacob would be waiting for me in wolf form, letting me climb on his back so he could whisk me away to Emily’s. I would wait anxiously for a call from Bella, but all I got was radio silence.

She had left the first day of break. Three days later, and she still wasn’t back. I had no explanation, no texts, and no returned calls.

Sitting at the dinner table at Emily’s was comforting. We had two new additions to the pack; Seth and Leah Clearwater.

I didn’t think Leah was meant to turn. She was twenty one, older even than Sam was when he changed. The proximity to a vampire triggered it, though, just like everyone else.

Her brother, Seth, was forced to change before his body was ready. He was only fourteen, and he had been a scrawny kid, too. The stress of his father dying and sister turning had shoved him into his own change.

Jacob had told me that the first change was painful for everyone, but that it had especially hurt for Seth. His body had rapidly developed the fever, shooting his temperature up from ninety-eight degrees to one hundred and eight. He had passed out, his body trying to save him some of the pain as it tore itself apart during his transformation into a wolf.

Jared had whispered to me that Seth had broken or tore nearly everything in his body. They had to call his mother to come help set it all again so he would heal properly. I realized then that rapid healing didn’t always mean correct healing.

I snapped back into reality when I realized that everyone was looking at me. I cleared my throat, “Sorry, zoned out.”

Quil laughed, “You need some sleep, Y/n.”

“I’m well aware,” I sighed, reaching out to take a sip of my water. The phone rings and Paul answers it as he’s getting another burger. His eyes go wide.

“Y/n, it’s Bella!” He says, and I’m up as soon as he says my name. I clamor around the table, nearly tripping over Jared’s large furry ass as he lays on the floor in wolf form. I quickly regain my balance as Jacob hauls me back to my feet, the two of us anxious to hear my sister speak.

“Bella?” I ask, my heart beating in my chest, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m okay, we’re all okay, Y/n,” She says, her voice slightly raw. “We’re heading back to Forks now.”

I glance at Jacob, and he gives me a meaningful look.

Carefully, I ask, “You mean yourself and Alice, right?”

She hesitates, and I sigh loudly.

“Am I on speaker? Actually, no, he can hear me anyway, right?” I don’t wait for an answer, barreling on with my rant, “Edward, you sparkly leech, leave my sister the hell alone! She was finally happy and now you have to go and mess everything up again!”

“Y/n—” Bella tries, but I cut her off again.

“No! No, he needs to hear this!” I say vehemently, “He needs to know the hell he put you through while he was traveling around the world for funsies, and how he’s going to screw everything back up by coming back!”

I speak directly to Edward now, “I don’t care if you’re some immortal vampire, asshole, if you come back to Forks to fuck up my sister’s life again, I’m gonna make you wish you had never been reborn as a sickly reanimated corpse!”

There’s silence on the other end, and I know Bella’s hurt by my words. I don’t care. Let her be hurt by the truth and by the fact that neither Charlie nor I can stand that boy.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Alice says, “I’ll deliver Bella safe and sound to your home, Edward will stay away.”

“Thank you, Alice.” I say, my voice harsh but infinitely kinder to her, “Drive safe getting here. Bella; I love you, I’ll see you soon, and also you’re grounded. Charlie’s pissed.”

She sighs, mumbling, “Yeah, I figured. I love you too, Y/n, I’ll see you tonight.

The line goes dead and I hang the phone up.

“She’ll be back home tonight,” I announce, cheers ringing up. I continue, “She’s bringing that freak back with her.”

Boos and gags sound, and it makes me feel better. An idea floats in my mind, and I grin.

“Jake, I need you to go into the spare closet of the house and get the duffle bag of clothes we haven’t donated yet.” I order, and he salutes me, grinning, before turning and running.

“Why’re you grinning like that,” Embry complains, “It’s scaring the children.”

“I’m not scared!” Seth protests, but Embry shoots him a baffled look, “I’m children! I’m scared!”

I ignore them, “Sam, I need to borrow any shirts that don’t fit you.”

He eyes me, “What for?”

“To piss off Eddie boy, what else?” I ask, going into the laundry room and finding all the clothing scraps we haven’t been able to throw away yet. I put them in an old grocery bag and set them in my room. When I get back, Jacob is panting as he hands me the duffle. I grin, setting it down on the table and pulling out shirts.

I hand a pile of shirts to everyone with instructions to either hold them, wear them, or somehow make them smell like a werewolf. The biggest pile goes to Jacob, and I take the remaining pile and crouch beside Jared, still in wolf form.

“Hey buddy,” I say slyly, and he almost seems to laugh as he rolls over onto his back. I snicker as I rub several shirts over him, looking up when I hear laughter.

Quil has stuffed himself into one of my old shirts, and it looks like it’s about to burst at the seams. It fits him like a crop top, tight as a corset. I cackle as he pretends to model it, laughing harder when he moves a little too much and splits it in half.

---

When Bella comes back, I had already hidden the clothes around the house. In the vents, under her floor boards, under her mattress, in her pillows, behind the mirror in the bathroom, anywhere and everywhere I could think of was fair game. I was even wearing one of the shirts, just in case Edward made an appearance. I had a good deal of them hidden in my room, and Charlie’s. Again, just in case.

He didn’t come, thank god. Alice wrinkled her nose when she got here, but gave me a hug anyway. I hugged her tight, thanking her for keeping my sister safe.

Bella went and showered. I sat in her room and waited for her to come out. When she did, I saw how weary she looked. I didn’t ask questions, just wrapped her in a blanket and turned off the lights.

Charlie was furious the next morning, telling her she was grounded until she wasn’t anymore. She accepted it with grace.

---

Months passed. It was summer now.

I stormed into Emily’s house, throwing the door open as they all sat down for lunch.

“Woah, what’s got you bent out of shape?” Quill teased, and my scowl deepened.

“That stupid, idiotic girl is accepting him back into her life so easily!” I yell, flinging my hand out in a direction that isn’t necessary towards my house. Jacob dodges my arm easily, continuing to eat moodily.

I pitch my voice higher, “‘Oh Edward, my sickly Victorian child, I missed you so much! Please, make me your vampire child bride! I don’t want my soul anymore, I don’t care what this will do to my family, I—”

I take a shuddering breath, hot tears streaming down my face. Emily stands, coming to hug me tightly.

“Oh, Y/n,” she says quietly, rubbing my back.

“She’s so stupid,” I bite out, “Throwing away her life for—for him!”

Jacob had stopped eating, staring furiously at the table. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his body shaking. He looks up at me, his eyes blazing.

“Well then, I suppose that we’ll just have to try and be voices of reason.” He spits out, and I sniff, nodding.

“Besides Edward,” Sam said slowly, “Why does she want to become a vampire?”

I swipe at my eyes furiously, “Apparently Alice saw her as one in a vision. You know, the ones that are constantly subject to change.”

I know I sound bitter, but I feel betrayed. I don’t want to lose my sister.

---

Edward had appeared at Roy’s the day I started back. I scowled when I saw him, but he held up his hands.

“I’m here to tell you what Bella isn’t.” He said, and my attention was snagged.

I stared for a moment, then slid into the booth seat across from him. I had gotten off work already, so I had time.

“Bella wants to become a Vampire.” He said, and I nodded. “I don’t want that. I want her to remain human for as long as possible. I want her to stay human forever.”

His words surprised me. I had figured that he was the one to put ideas of vampirism into Bella’s head, but he was apparently thoroughly against it.

“She had my family vote.” My heart stopped in my chest. He continued, “Everyone voted yes aside from Rosalie and I. Neither of us want her to be changed.”

I clenched my hands into fists, “Why tell me this?”

He sighed, “Because I’m hoping that you can talk sense into her. I haven’t been able to, Rosalie can’t. You and the wolves are our last ditch effort to dissuade Bella from becoming a vampire.”

I was silent.

“What are you telling her to keep her from getting someone else to do it for her?” I asked, and he paused. I scoffed, “She wants you to do it, right?”

He nodded, and I continued, “She’s stubborn. If you won’t do it for her, she’ll get someone else to. My bet’s on Alice.”

He let out an odd sort of snarling sound, vaguely similar to one of the snorting sounds that the guys would make in wolf form when they would fight playfully. This was out of frustration, though.

“Tell her something, anything that would keep her from getting someone else to turn her,” I begged, “Buy time, and I’ll change her mind.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“I’ll do my best.” He said quietly, looking almost defeated.

He got up to leave, but I grabbed his arm.

I flinched, so used to feeling higher temperatures that it was a momentary shock to feel his frozen skin.

“Give me your number. We’ll keep each other updated so Bella can’t hide or lie.” He nodded, handing me his cell. I punched in my number, texted myself so I had his, and nodded.

“I still hate you.” I told him, “But I hate you less for this.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then let out a breathy laugh.

“I’ll take what I can get, I suppose.” He said, then added, “I did think I was doing the right thing, leaving her. I thought she would be better off.”

“She was.” I tell him, adding, “But there’s nothing we can do about that now.”

---

Ok!! Short chapter to transition between New Moon and Eclipse! I do plan to give reader some more clarity on Edward’s feelings btw bc I knowwweww he was pressed about Bella wanting to be turned.

Anyway, I hope yall enjoyed ☺️

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One

TW: nsfw, exhibitionism, violence, blood and gore and guns, trauma, death

“Okay,” Tom says, “you need eggs, milk, blueberries, flour. You writing this down, baby?” 

“Um, no, hold on. You’re distracting me.” You grab your little pink nurse notepad and a pen. 

“Distracting you?” 

“It’s not my fault you sound hot talking about pancake recipes.” You flush at your own boldness, at the heavy chuckle he gives you. 

“Naughty girl, I’m in a diner, you know.” 

“Oh, sorry. Crowded?” 

“Does this mean you’re ready for round two?” He muses. 

“Wouldn’t it be round, like, 6?” You tease, catching yourself literally twirling your hair and kicking your feet for Tom Ludlow, pen poised for instruction. 

“You just wait til I get my hands on that sweet little—hey, Jordan, what’s up? Yeah, no problem—sorry, old coworkers.” 

You cover your mouth to muffle the raucous giggle—now, you scold yourself, can’t turn all hyper feminine and cute just because of Tom. “Okay, and the pancakes?” 

“What? Oh, yeah, pancakes. Although, now I’m hungry for something else...” 

“Indecent,” you gasp, “I’m just trying to get a pancake recipe, and here you are being a scoundrel.” 

“If I was a scoundrel, I’d take the rest of the day off and come lodge myself in that chokehold of a pussy.” He has to be quiet to avoid the nearby patrons hearing him, but that low, hushed voice travels through the phone, into your ear canal, through your brain, down your body, and straight into your cunt. 

You give a little frustrated grumble and put your head in your arms, hiding as if he’s right beside you and can feel the heat of your skin and the tremble of your body. 

“She can give it, but she just can’t take it,” he tsks, and you hear that shit eating grin. 

“Can too,” you protest, whiny. 

“We’re not talking about my cock, baby.” 

Jesus fucking Christ, okay okay. He wins. He gets the dirty talk crown. You’d say that’s the only thing his mouth is good for, but you’d be very, very wrong. 

“Pancakes?” You try pathetically. 

Phone sex. It’s usually awkward, tense, strange. Tom Ludlow makes it seamless, and it’s one of his favorite things, as you’ve come to learn. “Mmm. Don’t act like it isn’t your fault that I’m rock hard in a crowded food joint. Oh, fuck, I know you love cockwarming me, baby, but imagine doing it in a room full of people. One of those pretty little sundresses you love to tease me with hiding us from everyone. You’d have to keep quiet for me, though, so nobody finds out I have you stuffed full.” 

“God, I hope some elderly woman is not seated by you listening to this—you’ll give her a stroke.” Your joking voice sounds more like your please, fuck me voice right now, and you’re rubbing your pussy against the chair lip like in highschool fucking math class with that one handsome teacher. 

“The only thing I’m stroking today is that needy clit when I get my hands on—“ his voice changes from sensual to frustrated, and the line goes blank for a minute. “I gotta go, baby, see you tonight?” 

“Yeah, see you tonight, Tom.” 

“Keep her wet for me.” 

Well, at least you know that won’t be a problem. Not even while you’re showering, shaving, touching up the paint on your nails, cleaning, soaking your feet in epsom salts, and pulling out the new pretty cotton candy lace lingerie set you bought for Tom to lay out for later. You burn some incense, feed the plants, brush your teeth, and then even do a face mask just for the hell of it. 

It takes a while for you to realize that you’re starving. Blueberry pancakes sound like heaven right now, and you have everything but the main ingredient—fresh blueberries, Tom had insisted, they need to be fresh. 

You could eat a TV dinner for the 8th time this week, ignore that grumble in your tummy that craves something light and fluffy and sweet, but instead you grab your keys and decide to head to the local corner store for some little, delicious blue diamonds. 

You know it’s ridiculous, that just walking into the store, you feel like you’re floating around on a little cloud. This is all Tom’s fault, of course. The euphoria of new love–fuck, you should not use that word. But frankly, you don’t know what else to call it. 

No one has ever made you feel this way before. Always, you had a chorus of warning bells in the back of your mind in previous relationships, warning you not to get too comfortable, not to think for a moment you could depend on a man to be good to you past the point where he’d finally gotten the gratification that he wanted out of you all along.

But Tom…Tom wanted you. And not just for sex, though that had been–and you had a feeling would continue to be–fucking amazing. You think back on the way you had cuddled in your bed with such a sense of fulfillment and peace. He made you feel whole, whether he was inside you or just filling your arms, and that usual sense of terror that fills you with such things is gradually fading to a dull roar. You know if it goes on much longer–another day, another hour–you’re going to fold and give in. 

Floating on your little cloud, you’re not really paying much attention, as you browse the shelves and pick out your ingredients. The blueberries look heavenly, and you cradle your prize in your hand, excited to put them to use–in your grumbling tummy. So when the sound of gunfire erupts somewhere in the little store, you are taken completely by surprise. All you can think to do is hit the floor, making yourself as small and flat as possible. 

Blueberries spill and bounce down the aisle. 

***

Detective Tom Ludlow is on the prowl. 

He knows he should let it go–but he can’t. It’s just not in his vocabulary. Detective Terrence Washington betrayed their brotherhood, and he fully intends to give his old partner a piece of his mind. A firm talking to. 

Ok. He might break his jaw. 

As young cops Ludlow and Washington had regrettably learned that nothing gets in the way of Law and Order like the Law itself. After watching bad men go free on the streets time and time again, they had worked together to administer their own brand of justice. So what if they walked slightly on the other side of the line? If it meant a piece of shit wife abuser didn’t get to skip back home just to do it again, or a murderer didn’t go free to hurt someone else, then they’d done a good night’s work. Helping people was what he’d become a cop for in the first place, and it seemed like using his knowledge and connections to more vigilante purposes was the only way real justice got done. 

Maybe a part of him had sort of known it might catch up to him someday. He hadn’t cared at the time. After his wife’s death…he hadn’t cared about much, except the job. It was all he had. But now…he has you. It complicated things, in the best way. He knows you’re scared. He knows you’ve had a rough past, even if you haven’t felt comfortable enough to tell him about it yet. Most of all, he knows…that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time, and he’s not letting you go. 

So maybe, just this once, he’ll keep a hold of his world-class temper, and not use the belt he’s coiled around his fist to protect his knuckles. The sound of loud rap music catches his attention; he turns to see a late model red Caprice, windows down, piloted by two men with faces covered with bandanas. 

In his gut, he just knows.  

He knows something terrible is about to happen, and he doesn’t have his sidearm because officially he’d surrendered it and he was supposed to be working the Complaints Desk right now. All he has is his backup strapped to his ankle. It’s a .38 special, just like his father carried, with six fucking shots and it’s not nearly going to be enough to go against the firepower these boys are undoubtedly packing. 

He runs into the store anyway, because that is what he does. 

***

The items on the shelves explode in the rain of gunfire. Cereal. Canned goods. Chips. Poof! You are covered in foodstuff detritus, and your ears are ringing, and people are screaming on the other side of the store. It all happens so fast, and yet somehow time seems to slow. 

You know you’re an idiot, but it is the sound of the screams that gets you army-crawling your way around to the corner of the isle. Someone might need your help. If they’re screaming–they’re not dead. And whether you’re in the ER or not, that means you have a job to do.

As you poke your head around the corner you see an African American man on the ground, his ebony dark skin splattered bright crimson with blood. One of the robbers leans over him, says something you can’t make out past the ringing in your ears. The man on the ground reaches up, swipes the bandana away with a clumsy hand. Says something forceful with what little strength he can muster.  

You see the shooter’s face, his handsome features a mask of fury as he shoots the injured man one more time in the chest. 

Then the shooters flee, racing out the door to their car, peeling away down the block. 

You are shocked, when none other than Officer Tom Ludlow emerges from behind one of the other banks of shelves, kneels beside the wounded man. 

“Washington, Washington, stay with me” he calls, urgent and panicked, a new side of him coming to light among spilled grocery goods and fluorescent lights. He feels the man’s pulse, and his face turns pallid and scared. You’re on your feet, then, running and slipping on a puddle of liquid, getting right back up and crossing what feels like a miles long distance to land at the man’s side. 

“Y/n?” Tom grabs your shoulders, but you shove him off. 

“Does he have a pulse?”

“No, are you alright?” 

“Call 911, get me an AED.” You press two fingers into a blood coated jugular, slipping off the mess of plasma, and then going back to feel for a pulse that isn’t there. 

Turns out Tom doesn’t have to call anyone, because two ambulances and five cop cars pull up to the storefront. As you perform CPR, the old familiar song and dance of cartilage tearing and ribs breaking and getting covered in crimson up to the mid forearm, police and firemen and other uniformed personnel flood into the store. 

Someone tries to pull Tom away, but he shoves them off and kneels back down beside you with an AED, knuckles bloody and glittering with glass shards from where he probably punched in a display window to get to the defibrillator. 

“Put the pads on him,” you tell Tom, lifting up your hands momentarily so he can rip Washington’s shirt right down the middle. You go back to compressing while he slaps the pads on, and switches the device. 

It lights up, that little pleasant ding a thick balm on your raging, acidic anxiety. STAND CLEAR, it says, just as the stretcher arrives. ANALYZING HEART RHYTHM.  

“Let me take over,” someone instructs, taking your place on the floor. “How long have you been at it?”

Tom speaks for you. “Twenty minutes.” 

Felt like two. 

NO SHOCK ADVISED. BEGIN CPR. 

“Put a line in.” Tom pulls you away. “Pushing epi now.” He picks you up, sticky from blood—or maybe that’s you. “STAND CLEAR.” You get a cradled police escort outside, and placed gently into the passenger seat of Tom’s car. 

“Stay here?” He asks, hand on your cheek, damp and thick. 

“Yeah,” you nod. 

He shuts you in and presses the lock. 

[sugoi-and-spice]

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Playing Pretend

Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?

CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn

A/N: Hnnnnnnnngh, something something, commentary commentary idk. I'm caught up with the manga. Life is meaningless lol. Hopefully this chapter can ease the pain a little (though probably not much since we're hopping right back into angst town lmao, I'm so sorry)

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[excerpt]

Luxury. That was the word of the night. Everything about this experience dripped with luxury. Luxury was in the limousine that All for One had been so generous to charter for their pick up. It was in the Don Perignon chilled and waiting for them inside that her parents were kind enough to let her have a glass of. And it was in the Palace Hotel Ballroom that the company had rented out for this party. From every tuxedo-wearing waiter carrying trays of canapes around the room, every member of the string quartet playing Schubert as they entered, even to every Swarovski crystal ornament on the ceiling high Christmas tree in the center of the room. It was all pure, unadulterated luxury.

And it honestly had her wondering for a moment.

“You sure we’re in the right place?” she whispered to her mom, earning a reassuring squeeze.

“No, I’m not,” her mom joked back, just as hushed, “But we’re going to pretend like we are regardless.”

She looked back at her mom curiously. If she was feeling uneasy about the sky high expenditure and decorum of this place, she could only imagine how out of her element her mom was. She herself had spent her entire life ping-ponging between lower and upper middle class. But her mom, even before she’d been in foster care, had only known the heights of a paycheck to paycheck smalltown flower shop. Tie in the not insignificant times she’d spent living exclusively in manga cafes, and she could only imagine what an out of body experience she was having at this moment.

Although, maybe she wasn’t as out of her element as she thought.

If her mom was feeling any nerves or apprehension, it all went away the moment they were approached some of her father’s new, upper echelon bosses and colleagues, beautiful women on their arms (some being the mens’ wives, some being definitely not the mens’ wives), and she was rubbing elbows and talking the talk like the best of them.

“So, was that your first time in a limo?” Yamamoto, one of her dad’s bosses asked the bunch.

“Is it that obvious? ” her mother smiled politely

“Oh on the contrary. I think you all look quite natural at an event like this,” he turned then to her father, “A very handsome family, son. You should be proud.”

Her father smiled, giving her shoulder a little squeeze, “More than you can imagine. My oldest here is a senior at Kamino, and one of the top in her class.”

“Is that so?” Yamamoto said, turning to her, “Entrance exams are just around the corner, aren’t they? You feeling ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered, trying not to think about it too long, lest she get nervous.

That was pretty much the course of all her conversations tonight, so far at least. If it wasn’t asking her about her college plans, it was middle-aged VP’s telling her what a looker she was and how she “must have guys lining up for her at school”. Blegh.

All throughout she just smiled and nodded politely while trying not to look around too much for Shigaraki, who surprisingly, for the first quarter of the party, was nowhere to be found. Same for All for One. 

Weird, she thought at first, considering that this was their freaking party. Until she overheard one of her dad’s coworkers mention to him, “You know how much that ol’ bastard likes to make an entrance.”

As if on cue, the double doors to the ballroom opened (she hadn’t even realized they’d been shut?!) And in strutted All for One, standing tall and pompous as ever. She had to fight the biggest eye roll of her life as a soft applause filled the room, and he waved them off as if he wouldn’t have been completely pissed had the room been silent.

But just as fast as annoyance crossed her face, she couldn’t fight the skip in her chest when Tomura Shigaraki followed into the ballroom behind him. 

He’d cleaned up, and he’d cleaned up freaking good. 

His typical ill-fitting sweats and hoodie had been switched out for an impeccably crisp, slim fit suit that did his long legs and defined figure all the favors in the world. His hair was not only brushed, but obviously had some care put into it, fringe still in his face, but strategically so. He kept his eyes, staring forward intensely, intimidatingly, in full view. 

And on top of it all, much to her shock and joy, was the red jacket she’d bought for him hanging off his shoulders almost capelike. He’d even kept the fur part on and she’d be remiss to say it didn’t make him look like royalty.

He didn’t just look amazing, he looked like a leader. 

Her mom leaned down to her, nudging her not so subtly out of her awe, “Didn’t I see you bring home a jacket like that the other day?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” she said, swatting away at her, but still unable to take her eyes off Shigaraki through it all.

The two crossed to the center of the room, stopping directly under the giant Christmas tree, where a member of the hotel staff was there to meet All for One with a microphone.

“Thank you all so much for coming tonight…” he started an inevitably long and pompous speech that she was eager to tune out.

And it was easy to do so, the longer she stared at his ward, admiring the way he stood off to the side of All for One, head held high, but still unmistakably himself as he stuffed a hand into his pant pocket. 

She smiled at the sight. Seeing him like this, she couldn’t help but be brought back to a few months ago. To that fateful dinner her family had shared with the Shigarakis. The one that Tomura had worn a ratty old hoodie to and had spent the whole night either slouching in his chair, avoiding eye contact, or feeling her up under the table. There was none of that immaturity or recalcitrance here tonight. While he may not have learned the ways of the fake smile and schmoozing that practically permeated the air here, the hard bitterness in his expression was one that could actually be interpreted as polished stoicism. An authority that was hard to impress. And above all, the model heir to his guardian’s company.

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[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Five

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R - some smutty content

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Just a handjob in a public place and Krista Dumont being an unprofessional bitch. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~3.9k

A/N : It’s the night of the gala and Billy and reader are actually going to spend some real time together (it only took five chapters 😅) Thank you so much to everyone who's still following along with this!

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

The night of the gala came around a lot quicker than you wanted it to. Saying you were panicking at the thought of it all was something of an understatement; you even thought about cancelling but you and Billy hadn’t exchanged numbers and the thought of calling Anvil and leaving a message with his secretary seemed far too cruel.

You enlisted the help of Tammy to find an appropriate dress, though throughout the shopping process you had to put up with her jealous comments and her trying to dress you in something far more revealing than you wanted. But, in the end you found a forest green, long sleeved dress with a high neck that hugged your body enough to tease your curves without being so tight that it was uncomfortable. The only thing you weren’t sure about was the slit that ran up the left side of the skirt from ankle to thigh, but it was the only dress you had tried that didn’t make you uncomfortable.

Tammy managed to save you a second time when you realised that you had nothing but boots and sneakers, letting you borrow a pair of her Louboutin sandals. And, by the time you (or, rather Tammy) had curled your hair and put on some make-up, you felt like an entirely different person - you felt good, better than you had in a long time, almost like you really could be one of those women you’d seen hanging off Billy’s arm when you’d Googled him.

Between seven-thirty and eight you sat in silence, just watching the clock, anticipation and dread warring inside of you over what you were about to do. He’d said that your night together could be whatever you wanted it to be, but you still had no idea what you wanted.

When the knock at the door finally came, you felt your heart stutter.

And there he was; flowers in his hand and wearing a black tux that just screamed fuck me. You were lost for words but, luckily for you, so was Billy. Your cheeks warmed as he looked at you, his dark eyes taking in the sight of you from head to toe and, even though the dress left plenty to the imagination, you felt naked in front of him.

“These are for you,” he held out the bouquet to you, twenty-four roses, each flower a deep shade of red.

“You didn’t have to,” you answered as you took them, but you were so glad he had, “they’re beautiful, thank you. Let me just -” you glanced over your shoulder, “- I’ll just put them in some water.”

When you stepped back, Billy stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him and following you towards the kitchen. At some point Tammy had made herself scarce, leaving you completely alone with Billy. You didn’t dare look back, you could hear him only a step behind you, and you knew if you turned that you weren’t going to make it to the gala. 

You stopped at the sink to fill a jug for the flowers, Billy’s hands appeared on either side of you, gripping the edge of the work surface, boxing you in. While the jug filled, you did your best to ignore him, but the sound of his heavy breathing had your heart fluttering. Once the roses were in the jug, you turned to face him, not expecting to see the hunger in his eyes, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Billy,” you said softly, “we’re going to be late.”

“I know.” He answered, but didn’t move, like he was stuck there, like something was holding him in place and he didn’t dare let go because he didn’t trust what he might do.

Slowly, cautiously, you lifted a hand to his face, gently touching his cheek. His expression softened and he seemed to relax a little. You had no idea what was going through his mind right then, but if his racing thoughts were anything like your own, then you wanted to help soothe him, help calm him down.

“We’ve got all night,” you reminded him.

There was no need to rush; you could savour your night together, take your time. He looked at you, knuckles turning white as his fingers gripped harder, his shoulder ticking upwards. Your thumb softly brushed against his cheek and you smiled at him.

“Okay,” he finally relented with an awkward exhale. A second later, he released his grip on the counter and offered you his hand. You took it without hesitation. “C’mon, Karen and Frank are probably wondering where we are.”

“Wait - why?” You asked as he led you back towards the door, stopping for a moment so you could grab your coat and bag from the back of the sofa. 

“They’re in the limo -”

“Limo?”

Billy didn’t answer, he just laughed, keeping hold of your hand as you tried to navigate the stairs from the third floor while wearing Tammy’s shoes.

And, just as he said, there was a limo parked in front of your apartment building, the back door already open with Karen half hanging out. She climbed out to meet you, wearing a red silk gown that made you feel underdressed.

“Oh my god, you look amazing.” She said, moving toward you and pulling you into an unexpected hug. Billy’s hand kept hold of yours, tensing ever so slightly.

“So do you, I mean - wow.” 

“Are we going or what?” A voice called from the limo. Frank. 

“Told you he hates these things,” Karen laughed as she turned and headed back towards the limo.

A few minutes later you were all in the limo, on your way to the gala. Billy pulled out a bottle of champagne and started filling glasses, but his attention never strayed from you for long.

“So how did Bill manage to convince a girl like you to go out with him?” Frank asked. 

“He wore me down with his constant begging,” you answered, nudging Billy with your elbow.

“How did you two meet, anyway?” Karen asked before Billy could jump in and say something clever.

You told them the story, leaving out the awkward kiss, and going to great efforts to paint Billy as a gentleman. As you spoke, you felt his fingers over yours on your lap, like he was trying to silently thank you for not making him look like a creep in front of his friends.

The drive didn’t take long, you barely had time to finish your second glass of champagne, but by the time you arrived you could tell Billy was itching to get out of the limo and away from all the little questions about the two of you. It didn’t occur to you until later why that was; his friends were trying to get to know you as a couple but you and Billy both knew that there was an expiry date on whatever this thing between you was. You’d have your one night, then he’d be left to explain to his friends why it didn’t work out.

Flashing lights by the door caused you to pause, Frank and Karen carried on oblivious, but Billy had his hand in yours and noticed the second you started to falter.

“What’s wrong?” Concern quickly filling his tone.

“It’s stupid, I just - I don’t want my picture taken.” You didn’t want to be some woman on a Google search when the next person looked Billy up. You didn’t want anyone to know you were there; at the gala or in New York.

He looked ready to argue, to tell you it was just a photo, or give you some line about how you looked, but he didn’t. In one look at you, Billy seemed to understand how uncomfortable you were.

“I can get us in a side entrance.” 

“That’s not - you should go get your photo taken. It’ll be good for -”

“I’m not here to get my picture in the papers or on some shitty blog, I’m here to spend time with you.” He didn’t waste anymore time on the matter, and neither did you, following after as he took you to a side door and got some of the staff working the event to let you in.

Once you were inside, you dropped your coat off at the coat check and you and Billy found your designated table in the massive, ornate ballroom. Karen and Frank were already there, talking to another man who Billy introduced as Curtis; the one who helped run most of Anvil’s charity work. A few more of their friends turned up - mostly ex-Marines like Frank and Billy - and, soon enough, you were sitting back and watching Billy and his friends. And, again, his hand found yours, lacing his fingers through yours, holding you tight as he continued to laugh with his buddies. No one else seemed to notice and that seemed to suit Billy just fine; he didn’t want to make a spectacle of it, he just wanted to touch you.

Food was served and speeches were made, and eventually people started to move towards the dancefloor, slow dancing along to the music. And it was nice, despite your reservations, you didn’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest and, once you’d started to get familiar with Billy’s friends, you were able to hold whole conversations with them, some involving Billy and some not, but his hand always found yours again.

Eventually Karen managed to drag Frank onto the dancefloor and Billy’s other friends started to disperse. Billy saw someone he recognised across the room, someone that he needed to quickly talk to but, rather than going with him, you decided that you were going to head to the bar and get yourself a drink - something that he grudgingly went along with, if only because he seemed to realise just how overwhelming it was for you to meet all these people who knew him.

Once at the bar, you felt a little better, like you could take in what was going on around you without feeling like you were stuck in the middle of it all. You couldn’t see Billy, but you did manage to catch sight of Frank and Karen on the dancefloor enjoying themselves, and you found yourself wondering if Billy liked to dance.

“You should be careful with William,” a voice at your side sounded over the music, pulling you from your thoughts. It took you a moment to realise that she was talking to you and that by William she meant Billy.

“Sorry?” 

“William, he’s dangerous,” she told you, “men with his kind of trauma tend to exhibit emotional dysregulation and can become quite violent.”

“I don’t - who are you?” And just what was she trying to tell you.

“I’m just someone who’s concerned for your safety.” Like that answered anything. She didn’t seem to care what you thought about anything she was saying or the confusion on your face, she just carried on like you’d asked for her opinion on any of it. “His abandonment issues mean that he’s also prone to obsession and paranoia when it comes to those who get close to him.”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re -” 

“Have you slept with him yet?”

“That’s none of your -” but, still, she didn’t seem to care about what you had to say.

“His hypersexuality tends to manifest itself in deviant behaviour, so if you plan on sleeping with him tonight -”

“Don’t you have anyone else to bother, Krista?” Karen was suddenly at your side, glaring at the other woman. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen her so annoyed at someone, but if this Krista cared about Karen’s anger, she didn’t let it show.

“I was just offering a friendly warning,” she answered, though her eyes stayed fixed on you. 

“The only one who needs a warning here is you, so why don’t you crawl back under your rock and leave Billy alone.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, confused and concerned, not really sure what was going on. Krista looked ready to say something else but when she noticed Frank was walking towards you, she simply gave a shrug and walked away.

“You alright?” Asked Frank, his attention on Karen while you sank back against the bar, feeling very out of place.

“Fine, just dealing with the psycho-bitch,” she answered him before both of them turned their attention to you.

“Who was she?” You dared to ask, even though you weren’t really sure you wanted to hear the answer. “And why did she say Billy’s dangerous?”

“She’s his ex,” Frank offered.

“And because she’s a fucking psycho who refuses to move on.” Karen added. “She got it in her head that she could fix Billy, she spent months trying to take him apart and put him back together again how she wanted him to be.”

“But why?” You didn’t want to know but you felt like you needed to. If there was any chance that this Krista was right about Billy, you needed to know. Nothing about him had ever seemed dangerous, but you knew from experience that the people who could hurt you the most were usually the ones you least expected.

“She was his shrink,” Frank explained reluctantly, obviously feeling as uncomfortable in all of this as you. “It was a few years before they started dating, he got hurt, and she started getting in his head. And, when they got together she used everything she knew about him to -”

“You shouldn’t worry about it,” Karen interrupted, placing a hand on your arm. “She wanted him to be broken so she could be the one to save him. She’s a psycho with a god-complex.”

A jealous, psycho ex; that was something you could understand better than most and, if anything, she’d made you want to spend this night with Billy even more, because you knew exactly what it was like to have people only see the absolute worst in you. And you definitely knew what it was like to have an ex drag your name through the dirt. Besides, it was just one night. What was the worst that could happen in one night? 

“Bill’s like a brother to me,” Frank stated, pulling you from your spiralling thoughts, “but if I thought he was a danger to anyone I never would’ve let him bring you here tonight.” Despite not knowing Frank very well, there was something about the way he spoke, about the way Karen looked at him that told you it was the truth. You nodded, feeling a little better. “Just maybe don’t mention any of this to Bill.”

“Don’t mention what to me?” He appeared over Frank’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear when his eyes found yours. And, somehow, when he looked at you, you just knew; Billy Russo wasn’t a danger, at least not to you.

“I was just telling Frank that I wanted to dance,” you answered before anyone else had the chance, “he told me I’d have to mind my feet because you’re a terrible dancer.”

“Please, Frankie’s just jealous he doesn’t have moves like mine,” he practically shoved his friend out of the way so he could get to you, offering his hand. “C’mon, I’ll show you how wrong he is.”

The moment your hand was in his, Billy was leading you on to the dancefloor and pulling you close. His arms wrapped around your waist, hands settling on your lower-lower back, perhaps a little lower than was decent, but you didn’t care. Your hands found his shoulders and, before long your head was resting against his chest and every breath you took was him; his warmth, his cologne and the clean smell of his suit. It all felt perfect. For a moment you felt him move and you were almost certain that he smelled your hair, but you didn’t move to look or confirm anything; you didn’t care.

One song finished and another started, then another, and another. And you were content to stay there, in his arms, moving in time with the music. 

“How am I doing?” he asked softly and you realised that it was probably the longest you’d ever known him to stay quiet.

“Definitely proving Frank wrong,” you answered.

And, then, silence again.

At some point your hand shifted on his shoulder, moving up towards his neck, your fingers lightly curling the hair at the nape of his neck. His arms pulled a little tighter around you and, for a moment you thought you could feel the outline of his cock against your thigh. You kept dancing, your other hand soon moving to his neck.

After what felt like a lifetime - a wonderful lifetime - you raised your head, wanting to look at him. Or, more precisely, wanting him to look at you. Your knees turned weak as he stared down at you, tongue running across your lips as you tilted your head just a little, and Billy leaned, his lips almost meeting yours.

Then you were moving, your hand gripped tight in his as he led you away from the dancefloor and out of the ballroom. Soon enough, you found yourself in an empty hallway, the music fading to a near-nothingness in the background, leaving you with nothing but the sound of your heart hammering in your chest. Billy looked like a man possessed as he finally turned to you, his hand finding your hip and leading you back against the nearest wall.

“I've been wanting to get you on your own all night, sweetheart,” he muttered softly, sounding barely restrained. “I wanted to let you enjoy the party, but I can't do it anymore. I need to have you all to myself.”

“I wondered why you'd been so quiet,” you smiled at him, your hand finding his cheek.

“You make me feel like I'm losing my damned mind...” his dark eyes fixed on yours, sparking with desperation, “I don't wanna share you with anyone else anymore.”

“You don't have to,” you breathed, sinking closer to him.

The way he looked at you in that moment had your heart pounding. He wanted you. Billy Russo wanted you.

Finally, he kissed you, leaving no space between your bodies. It was a hungry kiss, his tongue laying siege to your mouth as he tried to get his fill of you. Your arms made their way around his waist, pulling him closer, holding him tight. Again, you felt something pressed against your stomach, and this time there was no question about it; Billy was hard. He’d been hard while you were dancing together. (He was hard for you.)

A moan passed between your lips, though there was no telling if it had come from you or Billy. He dominated the kiss, reminding you of the party, how he’d pressed you back against the bathroom door and kissed you just like that. But you needed more, and judging from the way he was pressed against you, so did Billy. 

If it was only going to be one night, you needed everything.

You didn’t even think as your hand slipped between your bodies to cup his bulge through the fabric of his pants. The groan that came next was definitely from Billy, and if he had any issues with you groping him in such a public place, he kept them to himself. In fact, his hips soon moved to press himself against your hand while his own hands remained useless at your waist. There was nothing he could do while you were still wearing your long gown and that put you at an advantage, an advantage you wanted to make the most of.

Fingers pulled eagerly at his belt, then the button and, finally, the zipper. And, all the while, he kissed you, not wanting any of it to stop. By the time you had his cock in your hand you’d almost completely forgotten where you were, and nothing but Billy mattered.

His hand covered yours, molding your fingers around his cock, dragging your hand up and down his length, showing you what he wanted. Then he released you, leaving you to run your hand from root to tip, exploring the feel of him and the weight of him in your hand. His cock turned thicker the harder he got, leaving you imagining the way he’d stretch you if he fucked you. (When, you corrected, when he fucked you. Because once you had him in your hand you knew there was no turning back.)

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, obviously enjoying what you were doing and it just made you want to do more, it made you want to pull every desperate sound you could from him.

Your hand wrung around him, brushing across the crown, thumb tracing the slit until it started to leak with beads of pre-cum. You spread the wetness across his tip before continuing to drag your hand along him, all the while doing what you could to swallow Billy’s eager moans. Your grip tightened, feeling bolder as your hand stroked up and down, loving the way his cock strained in your grasp. More beads of pre-cum formed and every time you felt them against your thumb, you found yourself longing for a taste.

Groaning your name against your lips was all the warning he managed to give you before he started to pulse in your hand, coming undone with a barely restrained grunt, and letting his head fall back. You managed to angle him away from you in time to save your dress, but your hand was soon covered while it continued to pump his shaft, making sure you wrung every ounce of pleasure from him and making a sticky mess of the both of you.

When he was finally done and you were both left panting, you pulled back your hand and looked at it for a second, oddly proud of yourself. You couldn’t resist lifting to your lips, licking his cum from one of your fingers, finally getting a taste of him. Before you got the idea to clean the rest of your hand, Billy’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, urging your hand away from your mouth.

“If you don’t want me to tear that dress off you, you should stop doing that.” Billy warned while his other hand fished a handkerchief from his pocket. You almost wanted to tempt fate and see just what he’d do but you didn’t want to risk getting caught there more than you already had. Billy wiped himself clean, before cleaning your hand and setting his clothes to rights.

“We’re going.” It wasn’t a question or a suggestion, he didn’t even give you time to answer before taking hold of your hand and leading you back towards the party. His grip didn’t loosen as he led you through the crowd and towards the coat claim, slowing only momentarily to call his driver to tell him to pull the car around. You followed after, staying as close to him as you could; you were his for the night and the thought of any distance between you just seemed insane. He let go of your hand only momentarily, to help you slip your coat on and, before you knew it, he was eagerly leading you outside.

Billy waved off the driver as he moved to open the door, leaving Billy to open it and bundle you inside. He wasted no time sliding in beside you and closing the door, finally getting you all alone. Before you could even think about getting comfortable, he pulled you onto his lap, hands pushing the fabric of your dress up your thighs so you could comfortably straddle him and helping you shrug out of your coat.

The limo shuddered to a start and Billy’s arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, secure. 

His.

(At least, his for the night.)

Chapter Six

END NOTES : I really enjoyed writing this part, so I hope you enjoy reading it! Thanks for sticking with this and thanks for all the likes! If you want adding to the tag list drop me a comment (I think it's working properly???). The next part should be up same time next week and, from the looks of it, it's going to be pretty long.

Anyway, thanks for reading and have a great day!

TAG LIST

@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval @doloreschanal @uncontainedsmiles @damagelove

[mint-yooxgi]

{26} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 7,671

Warnings: The later half still needs to be edited, sorry! Bit of angst to start. Mental Illness: Anxiety, Depression, PTSD. Suggestive content. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Surprise! A bit of an early update for you all since I do want to split this final part into two chapters. I’m sure you can all probably guess what’s going to happen next after reading this one, but I figured I'll end the first book off on a lighter note before starting the next book in the series! I really hope you still enjoy this part, I think it’s fun! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty-One - Part Twenty-Two - Twenty-Three - Twenty-Four - Twenty-Five - Mini Masterlist

There’s a voice. No, multiple voices calling out to you through the fog. You can hear them, just above the noise in your head. The more you focus, the more you realize that there are two distinct calls of your name. They sound almost frantic, pleading with you to wake up. 

Wake up! 

Just wake up!

A shuddering gasp escapes your lips as you sit upright in bed. Your chest heaves, feeling fresh tears lingering on the skin of your cheeks as you bring your hands up to rub at your eyes.

Softly, you can feel two hands caressing your back. One strokes over your upper spine while the other rests much lower, thumb stroking tenderly against your skin.

“Shhh, Darling, it’s okay,” Jongho’s soothing voice reaches your ears. Nothing but worry is reflected on his features as he shares a glance with the other male to your right.

“We’re right here, Dearest,” Yeosang whispers, noticing how with each breath you take you seem to be calming down, even if only the slightest. “She can’t hurt you anymore.”

The sound of your bedroom door flinging open causes you to jolt lightly in their arms, all three of your gazes being drawn to the now open doorway to see both Mingi and Yunho hastily entering the room. Seonghwa follows close behind, San a mere step behind him as worry pulls at all of their features.

Before any of them can ask what happened, you’re speaking. “Bad dream.”

For the past four days, you’ve been tormented by night terrors. Visions of what happened to you swim through your mind, and usually, any one of them are able to shift your thoughts onto something more peaceful in order to let you rest. Only this time, they couldn’t.

No matter how hard Yeosang and Jongho tried, they couldn’t reach your mind. All they could do was watch as your dream tormented you with your past memories of Miyeon torturing you in that damn chair. Except, whenever the eight of them were supposed to show up in your dream, they never did.

Shifting slightly on the bed, Jongho pulls you into his lap. Gently, he cradles you in his arms as Yunho comes to sit on the edge. Carefully, the elder of the two places a hand onto the side of your face, nothing but concern tugging at his brow.

The arms you have wrapped around Jongho squeeze him tighter, eyes falling shut as fresh tears cling to your lashes.

“Every time-“ you begin, voice small and barely above a whisper as you swallow the dryness clinging to your throat. “Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is her.”

“Baby,” San immediately sits on the end of your bed with Mingi right beside him as Seonghwa moves closer to you.

“It’s like she’s living inside my head, and I don’t know how to get her out,” your whole body begins to tremble lightly as a tear slowly begins to make its way down the side of your cheek. “And I know I’m safe now. I know you’re all here with me, and will do everything in your power to protect me, but trying to reason with myself just isn’t working. The harder I try to rationalize with these thoughts, the worse it gets, and I just-“ you turn your head away from Yunho, burying your face into the side of Jongho’s neck as you hold him tighter. “I don’t know what to do.”

No longer can you hold back the desperate sobs that wrack your entire body. You feel completely and utterly devastated inside, every single event of the past week catching up to you. Your mind is a wreck, and you physically don’t feel any better, either. Yes, they’ve been there with you every step of the way, but even with their constant reassurance and support, you still feel lost.

How one woman could so easily come in and tear down every single wall you had built around yourself for protection only adds to the emptiness you now feel. Despite their protection, the worst part for you is that you now feel as if you cannot protect yourself, which is far worse than anything else.

You hate feeling powerless. You hate letting people have control over you.

Jongho’s arms are wrapped tightly around your figure, keeping you pressed against his chest as you continue to sob into his neck. Softly, he coos sweet, comforting words into your ears, both Yeosang and Yunho brushing over your back lightly with their hands.

The six of them share a look. A look full of worry, but also, silent understanding.

“Petal,” Yunho’s soft tone draws your attention to him once your sobs have quieted down for a brief moment. “Do you-“ he clears his throat as he meets your tear filled gaze, “do you want one of us to take the pain away?”

It’s slight, but your whole body tenses within Jongho’s hold.

Seonghwa sits on the edge of the bed, right beside Yunho. His gaze reflects nothing but concern as he looks at you softly.

“We can numb the memories so they’re not as difficult for you to remember,” he says gently. “If you’d rather forget them, we can do that, too.”

“We just don’t want you to suffer because of her anymore,” San adds, keeping his voice low as he watches you being held in his brother’s arms.

“I won’t lie, I have thought about it before.” You avert your gaze almost shamefully, voice barely above a whisper. “To have one of you sever the emotions I feel whenever I even so much as think about what happened to me.”

“But you haven’t.” Yeosang observes, hand continuing to stroke lightly over your back.

You turn your head to meet his gaze. “I can’t.”

You can see the question forming on his lips, and you’re sure the other five are all thinking the exact same things. So, before they can ask, you’re speaking once more.

“As much as I want to, I cannot ignore my own trauma,” you say. “If I ever-“ you let out a long exhale through your nose, “if I even want to begin to process it, I have to acknowledge it. Having one of you make me forget, or simply becoming numb to the emotions feels like I’m taking an easy way out. It’s not fair to myself, or you. I don’t expect you all to take away all of my bad memories as soon as they happen. I can’t, and I won’t.”

“Alright, Starlight,” Mingi nods subtly. “As long as that is what you want. We just thought we’d offer.”

Your eyes flutter closed as a sense of calm begins to wash over you seeing as you’ve managed to calm down for the moment. Slowly, you curl yourself closer into Jongho, letting out a small hum in acknowledgement. “I appreciate that, Min. I appreciate all of you.”

The hold Jongho has around your body tightens ever so slightly.

“What can we do, then, Darling?” He whispers lowly into your ear, chin resting lightly on your shoulder. “What can we do to help make it better?”

You’re quiet for a moment as you ponder over his question.

“I-“ you sigh, eyes falling to the pillows on the bed behind him. “I don’t know."

A brief pause.

“Let me think about it, okay?” Your soft voice fills the room once more just as both Wooyoung and Hongjoong appear. The two males had been out scouting for Dimitri and Malik for the evening, only to sadly find nothing of either of them. “I’ll probably have some better ideas in the morning, but for now, I just really want to sleep.”

“Alright, Darling,” slowly, Jongho begins to lay you back down beside him on the bed.

Immediately, Yeosang is wrapping himself around your back, pulling your body into his arms so that you’re pressed right up against his chest. Much to Jongho’s annoyance.

“I don’t-“ you close your eyes, curling into the two males on either side of you. “I don’t want to have another nightmare.”

“Would you like one of us to-“

“Yes,” you cut Hongjoong off before he can even finish his question, “please.”

The eight males all share a look, silently debating on who will be the one to give you pleasant dreams for the rest of the night, watching over your mind the whole time.

“Sannie,” your voice calling his name draws all of their attention.

“Yes, Baby?” Immediately, his eyes are locked on your figure, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice for anything and everything you might need.

“Don’t make me chase you out with a bat this time.” 

You feel Jongho chuckle slightly against you, his chest shaking as he recalls the way you made him summon you a bat to ‘bash San’s kneecaps in’ with the one time he tried to invade your dreams. Looks like his brother is getting a chance to finally redeem himself.

“I promise you won’t have to this time, Baby,” he chuckles lowly, already focussing on protecting your mind and filling it with the sweetest images for you to fall asleep to this evening.

“Good,” you hum, eyelids already drooping as a wave of tiredness washes over you. “I trust you.”

Almost as soon as those words leave your lips, you’re out like a light. Your chest rises and falls evenly, breaths coming steadily with each inhale you make.

For once, your mind is silent, filled with nothing but soft images of your favourite animals surrounding you and making you feel safe. Softly, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, and for the first time in days, you finally manage to sleep through the night.

Morning comes, and you actually feel a little better than you have been lately, considering your mood over the past few days. Luckily, thanks to San, Jongho, and Yeosang, you slept much better last night, feeling more rested as you slowly wake up.

Going about your morning routine is second nature to you, not even focusing in on what exactly you’re doing. Still, you manage to take a quick shower to freshen up, getting ready for the day shortly afterwards. At least this allows you time to think.

Today is the first day in a week where you’ve decided to put your void back up, even if only for a little bit. It did keep Miyeon out for quite a while, and you could really use some privacy for your thoughts for the moment. Besides, it’ll allow you to properly think out ways that will help you without one of the guys chiming in every five minutes asking if you’re okay.

The way you can still feel one of them brushing tenderly against your void as you do this does cause a small smile to tug at your lips. At the very least, you know they care, and that they will always be here for you, in whatever ways that they can.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you notice both San and Jongho sitting on the one couch in your room. You can tell from the way that they smile at you as soon as you appear that they’ve been waiting for you this whole time.

“I brought some fruit for you, Baby,” San’s eyes never leave your figure the entire time you make your way over to them.

“Thank you, Sannie,” once you reach him, you lean in to place a tender kiss onto the side of his temple.

Reaching down, you grab the bowl of fruit from the table and sit across from them on the opposite couch. Immediately, you curl into the corner, tucking your legs into your side as you pull a pillow onto your lap.

You take a bite of fruit.

“How are you feeling this morning, Darling?” Jongho asks softly, nothing but worry shining within his eyes as he looks at you.

The corner of your lips tugs upwards slightly, a sort of sad nod to your head in acknowledgement. “Better.”

“Good,” he manages to meet your gaze as your eyes dart up to his own. “We’re glad.”

“Thank you, for last night,” you say, taking another bite of fruit before you’re shifting to look at San as well.

“Of course, Baby,” he smiles at you tenderly. “You know we’d do anything for you.”

“We want to help in whatever ways that we can.” Jongho adds, assuring you with a gentle nod of his head.

“I appreciate that more than you know,” you reply. “I just don’t want it to feel like I’m making my problems your own.”

“You know we would never think that.” Mingi’s voice coming from behind you manages to make you jump. “Sorry, Starlight.”

“I’m serious about those bells if you’re going to keep doing this to me,” you shoot him a playful look, noticing how he holds a fresh glass of water in his hand, of which he immediately passes to you.

You share a brief smile as he sits in the chair closest to you between the two couches.

“Baby,” San’s voice is drawing your attention back to him for the moment. “You know you could never burden us with your problems, right? Please don’t ever think that you are.”

You look down at your lap, pushing around the fruit in your bowl.

“We are here for you in whatever ways we can be,” Jongho reminds you. “And if it’s space you need, then we’ll do that, too.”

“Though, some of us may complain a bit more than others,” Wooyoung’s voice coming from the open doorway draws your attention.

“Yeah, and you’ll be the biggest one,” Yeosang follows right behind him, the both of them instantly making their way over to the sitting area where you are.

“I never said that I wouldn’t,” Wooyoung grins, quite literally hopping over the couch to sit beside you before Yeosang can have the chance.

The elder of the two shoots a glare at the younger, stopping only briefly to place a tender kiss onto the side of your temple before moving over to the opposite couch and sitting between San and Jongho.

“We just want you to know that you do not have to go through this alone, Dearest.” Yeosang makes sure to meet your gaze, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees so you can know just how sincere he is in his words. “You never have to go through anything alone ever again.”

“Even if you didn’t want to worry us with your problems, I don’t think we’d be able to stop ourselves,” Seonghwa appears, now sitting in the chair opposite Mingi’s at the other end of the table. “Your happiness and wellbeing are our number one priorities.”

“I’m sure you can recall Seonghwa saying that if you hurt one of us, you hurt all of us. Right, My Love?” Hongjoong’s voice coming from your left draws your attention to him next as you nod faintly. Carefully, he sits himself on the arm of the couch opposite you as he meets your gaze. “That also extends to you.”

“All you ever have to do is tell us what you need, Petal, and we will do everything in our power to provide it for you,” Yunho appears, sitting beside Wooyoung on the same couch as you.

Gently, Wooyoung reaches over and places a comforting hand onto your calf resting right beside him.

“Take as much time as you need, Angel,” he makes sure to keep his voice soft as he smiles tenderly at you. “We’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

All you can manage is a nod of your head as you feel your heart swell with fondness and love inside of your chest. Looking around at all of them, you can see the sincerity shining within their eyes. Though, that much is obvious, for you could hear it the whole time in their words. A fact which could not make you happier, or feel their support for you more than in this very moment here in time.

“We’ll get through this,” Wooyoung squeezes your calf gently. “Together.”

You smile softly, gently placing your own hand over his. “Together.”

Eight soft caresses to your mind answer you, allowing yourself to sink further into the comfort this moment brings you with them. The best part is, you believe them. You believe that you can and will get through this, one step at a time.

A brief silence settles around the nine of you as you finish off the rest of the fruit in your bowl. It’s not awkward by any means. In fact, it’s quite comfortable, and allows you time to think of how you want to word your next few ideas to all of them that you’ve been pondering over the last hour or so.

“I’m glad you’re all here with me,” a soft smile pulls on your features as you spare a glance around at all of them. 

The eight content rumbles you can hear lightly echo throughout the room only serve to warm your heart even further than it already is.

Reaching forward, you place the empty bowl onto the table, leaning back into your spot soon after.

“I’ve also done some thinking since last night, and I do have a few things to ask of all of you,” you begin, a nervous exhale escaping you as soon as the words leave your lips.

Again, Wooyoung’s hand squeezes your calf reassuringly.

“Anything, My Dear,” Yeosang breathes, leaning forward the slightest bit, just as all of his brothers do.

“I-“ the words die in your throat as you attempt to speak them out loud now. You take a deep breath in, clasping your hands together on top of the pillow still held in your lap. “As I’m sure you’ve all deduced by now, there is nothing I hate more than feeling powerless.”

You glance up from your hands to see them all watching you intently, slight nods to their heads as they wait for you to continue.

“If this is going to work out between all of us, and-“ your voice catches, and you exhale another breath through your nose, “and I am to become your Queen, then I do not want it to be a case where I am solely reliant on all of you to protect me. I want to be able to defend myself, and others, if such a situation calls for it.”

You can hear the way a few of their breaths hitch in their throats around you, but you still do not dare look up from your hands.

“I know it’s asking a lot, and I know I’m still only human, but I need to take at least some form of control back in my life.” You continue. “This is the best solution I could come up with for now. I do not want your own subjects disrespecting you by disrespecting me, or thinking that I am too weak to handle my own.”

“They would die if they so much as implied that you were,” San growls, hearing his brothers rumble out their agreement around him.

“This just adds to my point,” you briefly glance up to meet San’s gaze. “If you all act for me, then it will look like I cannot handle my own. I do not want your subjects to think I own you. We need to appear as a collective. As equals.”

“Always,” Yunho breathes.

“Without question.” Hongjoong confirms, a slight growl to his words.

“Exactly,” you slowly begin to meet their gazes, lifting your head as you begin to gain more confidence the more your speak. “Except, that might be a little difficult for some people to accept if I’m still only a weak little human who cannot defend herself.”

They all share a brief look with one another.

“We really wish you wouldn’t refer to yourself like that, Starlight,” Mingi is the one to voice all of their thoughts, causing you to turn your head to meet his gaze.

“It’s true, though,” you reply bluntly. “I’m not able to do much on my own right now, but if I knew how to defend myself, I might be able to fight back. I mean, it might not make much of a difference against your kind as I am now, but at least I could say that I tried.”

A pause.

“There are ways-“ Seonghwa clears his throat, drawing your attention to him for the moment. “There are ways for you to become like us. If you wanted.”

“You mean…?” You trail off, eyes wide.

“Yes.” Yunho confirms with a nod, clearing his throat in the next second. “We could turn you into an entity like us. A powerful one, too.”

You hesitate, looking around at all of them briefly. “How?”

“It would require you to give us a piece of your soul in exchange for a piece of ours.” Hongjoong explains, a slight tremor to his voice.

At the way you can see them all visibly shaking, realization crosses your features.

“You’ve discussed this before.” Not a question, but a statement of fact.

“Yes,” Mingi breathes, his eyes fluttering shut as he attempts to prevent them from flashing black.

“We will not lie to you, Darling,” Jongho’s voice rumbles out, slightly lower than it was mere minutes before. “It is one of our greatest desires.”

“There is no act more intimate than the merging of souls with the one you love.” Yeosang meets your gaze, and the darkness you can see swirling within his eyes has your breath hitching in your throat.

“It is the ultimate demonstration of vulnerability and trust between souls.” San’s reply is near breathless, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he looks towards you. “You would receive a piece of our life-energy, and in turn, we would receive a piece of yours.”

“But we would never force it upon you,” Wooyoung is quick to add. “Always, we want it to be your choice. Even if-“ he stops himself, diverting his gaze to the table in front of himself as his entire demeanour drops. “Even if you choose to never merge souls with any of us, and you want to remain a human until your very last breath, we would never force such a thing upon you.”

Again, you reach out and place your own hand on top of his, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“I figured there was some sort of demonic magic thingy you’d all have to at least make me immortal at some point,” you say, and you notice how they all turn to look at you with hope shining within their eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d be able to turn me into one of you.”

“Equals, remember?” Jongho grins, a tension releasing from his shoulders as you smile back.

“Believe it or not, I’ve come to terms with something like this happening a while ago,” you hum, relaxing further into the couch. “I am curious on how it would work, though. Would it have to happen all at once, or would the splitting and merging of my soul eight times simultaneously potentially kill me?”

“It could be done individually over a period of time, or all at once.” Hongjoong confirms. “It’s completely up to you and what you’re most comfortable with.”

“I’m not saying it’s going to happen any time soon,” you hold up a hand slightly in a pause motion. “I just want to understand what I’m committing to before the time comes.”

“We understand,” Yunho responds lowly. “It is a sacred ritual, and once it is done, it cannot be undone.”

You nod. “Now, when you say intimate, how intimate are we talking?”

All eight males share a look.

“What?” You quirk a brow.

“Well,” Mingi clears his throat, “it would connect us in ways we haven’t been before.”

“You’re not telling me it’s some kind of sex ritual, are you?” You deadpan.

At the way their eyebrows all raise slightly, sharing another look between all of them, you blink.

“So, you’re telling me,” you sigh, bringing a hand up to rub at the side of your face, “that in order for this ritual to take place, I either have to fuck all of you individually at separate times, or we all have, what? A giant orgy?”

Both Mingi’s and San’s faces begin to go bright red, the tips of Yeosang’s ears fairing no better. Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Seonghwa shift in his spot, crossing his legs over one another. Even Jongho cannot hide the way a blush begins to creep up his neck, Hongjoong shifting subtly on the arm of the couch.

Yunho clears his throat.

“If that’s what you wanted, Gorgeous, we’d be more than happy to oblige,” Wooyoung leans in to whisper lowly in your ear.

A shiver caresses your spine as you feel his breath tickling your neck with every low exhale, the hint of a growl lingering in each one.

Slowly, you bring a hand up, using the tip of your index finger to push his cheek away.

“Slow down there, Demon Boy. We’re not there, yet.” Your voice comes out a bit shaky, and they can tell you’re just as affected by the thought as they are for the moment. “I was just asking for curiosity’s sake.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that it’s not a definitive ‘no’,” Wooyoung grins, a twinkle shining within his dark gaze.

You spare a glance at him out of the corner of your eyes. “We’ll see.”

Eight pleased growls reach your ears.

“It’s too soon to be talking about this,” you wave a hand in front of yourself. “Anyways, is that all there is to the ritual then? Just the exchanging of pieces of our souls? No bloodletting, or anything like that?”

A snarl nearly tears itself from Hongjoong’s throat, crossing his one leg over his knee as his whole body begins to heat with the implications of your words.

“Not unless you wanted there to be.” Seonghwa breathes, hands desperately clutching at the arms of his chair for dear life.

“Would you-“ Jongho clears his throat. “Would you be okay with something like that? Just in general?”

“What? Bloodletting?” You quirk a brow, noticing how he nods, a bit eagerly, in response. You smirk. “I might be.”

Eight low growls reach your ears, yet none are as loud as the snarls that tear from Hongjoong’s, Jongho’s, Mingi’s, and Seonghwa’s throats.

“This is not the proper time to be discussing these things,” you wave your hands in front of yourself once more. “We’re getting way too off track here.”

“We’re just asking for curiosity’s sake,” Mingi hums, a hint of a growl to his words as his brow quirks slightly in amusement.

“We can discuss these topics later. At a point where I’m not teetering on the edge of mental distress every half hour,” you say.

“Of course, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles reassuringly at you from across the table. “Please, continue with what you were saying before.”

“Thank you,” you smile back, shifting your legs so that your feet now rest on the floor, much to Wooyoung’s disappointment. “As I was saying, I want you all to train me.” You cross your one leg over the other, extending your arms over the back of the couch as you lean further into the cushion behind you. “Teach me how to fight, and to properly defend myself. I am tired of being the damsel. I am done feeling like I’m powerless. I am ready to become Your Queen.”

Each male can feel the way their breath hitches in their throat at your words. The way you’re sitting, body open and commanding their attention, screams regality in every way, perfectly mirroring your words even if you don’t realize it. A fact which makes their hearts flutter within their chests.

At the way the silence stretches on between you all, you start to worry.

“Even if you don’t all agree, if at least one of you-“

“We’ll do it.” San breathes, successfully cutting you off before you can start to ramble nervously.

“We had already thought about it, anyways,” Jongho admits, a bit eagerly.

“We’re just glad we’re all on the same page,” Mingi grins, eyes crinkling at the sides as you meet his gaze.

“We’d be more than happy to teach you everything that we know, Dearest,” Yeosang draws your attention to him next, a smile on his face.

“As long as this is something you want, we are more than happy too oblige,” Yunho adds, leaning forward slightly in his seat.

“Listen, if we’re going to be spending the rest of our lives together,” you begin, noticing how eight pleased growls sound lowly around the room at your words, “then I also want to be as badass and intimidating as My Kings. None of this ‘sit pretty and let us handle it’ shit.”

“You wouldn’t sit still, anyways,” Seonghwa jokes, a teasing grin tugging at his features.

“Exactly,” you grin back, meeting his gaze. “Besides, I never expect any of you to fight my battles for me.”

“We know, Darling,” Jongho smiles assuringly at you.

“Doesn’t mean we won’t try,” San adds, knowingly.

“Oh, believe me,” you chuckle. “I know.”

Leaning into your side, Wooyoung sighs dreamily, “I can’t wait to teach you all about poisons.”

“Just picturing her holding our weapons of choice is enough for me,” Seonghwa breathes, eyes fluttering shut as he leans further back into his chair.

“You’re telling me,” Hongjoong finally speaks, nothing but a pleasant hum to his lips.

Wrapping your one arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Need I remind you all that you’ll be training me, not getting a free pass for sexy times.”

“I think you underestimate the power you have, just implying that you want to learn how to wield any one of our weapons of choice, Dearest.” Yeosang’s low tone surprises you the most, considering that you wouldn’t have expected those words to come from him.

“Yeah, any more mental fantasizing, and our youngest here may start drooling,” Mingi teases, receiving a pillow thrown at his face from said man in the next second.

“Like you’re not envisioning the same damn thing.” Jongho grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

You giggle, and the sound is like music to all of their ears.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, yeah?” You grin. “There’s still a few things that need to happen first.” A brief pause. “Well, they don’t need to, I’d just like them to.”

“Anything.” Yunho breathes, gaze locking with yours from across the couch.

“This actually leads me to my next request, but I’d like to visit my parents. Preferably tomorrow.” You state, sparing a glance around at all of them. “I need to talk to my mom. She’s always been there for me when I’ve needed her, and it’s been months since I’ve been home. I want to take full advantage of seeing my family whenever I can, for however longer I can. They won’t be around forever.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to us, Dearest,” Yeosang smiles softly. “We understand.”

“Now that there’s one less threat to worry about, that shouldn’t be a problem,” Wooyoung curls in closer to your side, wrapping his arms around your waist as he hums contently.

“Our wards should still be in tact around your parents house, anyways.” Yunho adds.

“Did you want one of us to go with you?” Hongjoong clears his throat. “As an added protection in case something were to happen?”

You blink. “You’d actually let me go by myself?”

At the way they nod, even if somewhat hesitantly, you huff, clearly impressed.

“And here I was thinking I’d have to fight you guys on it.” You hum, amusedly.

“We never want you to feel like you cannot see your family,” Hongjoong responds. “We know how important they are to you.”

Your heart warms, and you find yourself nodding lightly along to his words.

“Well, I did want to speak with my mom privately at first,” you say. “Then, depending on how things go, I would really like to formerly introduce my parents to the people that I love.”

A collective stillness passes over the room as their eyes shine with nothing but fondness for you.

Wooyoung looks up at you, eyes shining with unshed tears. “You want us to meet your family?”

“Only if you’re all okay with that. I would never want to force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with,” you go on to say, smiling softly down at him. “I also don’t know how well they’re going to take to me being in a relationship with eight men, but I don’t want to keep this from them if I don’t have to. You all make me happy, and I know that’s all my parents have ever wanted for me. I would like for you to meet them.”

“Starlight,” Mingi’s voice trembles slightly with the weight of his emotions, a single tear trailing a path down his cheek.

“We’d be honoured.” Yunho finishes, voicing the thoughts on all of their minds as an overwhelming sense of joy and love swells within their chests.

You smile. A brilliant, shining smile that lights up the entire room as your eyes shine with excitement. “Great! I’ll call my mom later and make sure they’ll be home tomorrow. I want it to be a bit of a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Seonghwa quirks a brow.

“Ironically, Sundays are the days my family spends together. Usually, my sister and her husband come over for dinner, so my mom spends the day cooking. It’s usually a guarantee that they’ll be home, but one can never be too sure.” You shrug, subconsciously beginning to rub your thumb against Wooyoung’s shoulder, much to his content.

“Just let us know,” Seonghwa nods once in confirmation.

“Of course,” you turn your joy filled gaze towards him, and the eldest swears he can feel his heart stuttering inside his chest. “I have a plan, anyways.”

“A plan, you say?” Hongjoong quirks a brow.

“Like I said, it all depends on how things go if and when I talk with my mom tomorrow,” you reply. “I don’t think showing up with eight men right off the bat would be good for either of my parents. Let me test the waters first, and gage their reactions before all of you show up. The last thing I need is to give my parents a heart attack.”

“Alright, Starlight,” Mingi chuckles. “We’re just excited, is all.”

“Either way, we’ll make sure to be on our best behaviour,” Yunho shoots both San and Wooyoung a pointed look.

“Hey!” They both whine at the same time, causing you to chuckle.

“If anyone needs to behave themselves, it’s Handsy over there,” Wooyoung grumbles, burying himself further into your side as he shoots Seonghwa a pointed glare.

“Track record shows you’re in second place in terms of not being able to control your hands, Demon Boy,” you tease, poking his cheek lightly.

Teasingly, Wooyoung attempts to bite at your finger.

“So, really, you can’t blame us,” Seonghwa finishes with a casual shrug, only causing you to laugh once more.

“Oh, believe me, I don’t.” You grin knowingly. “If you knew half of the shit that I’ve fantasied about with all of you, I’m pretty sure my back would have been blown into next week by now.”

Eight snarls greet your ears, their eyes flashing black as their gazes fixate on you.

“Darling, you can’t just say something like that and not tell us more,” Jongho practically moans out as his lips part, heated gaze locked on your figure.

“Well, I guess that’s just something you’ll all have to find out in due time, then,” you giggle, a devious grin pulling onto your lips.

“No fair!” San pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So, you don’t want to know at a later time?” You quirk a brow teasingly at the male across from you.

“We’d just much rather know sooner rather than later, Angel,” Wooyoung’s voice rumbles out, nothing but a low growl as he turns his head to face you.

“And I’m sure you will,” you reply, brushing some of his hair back from his forehead. “I know for sure that I’m not the only one with my own little fantasies.”

At the pointed look you shoot Hongjoong across from you, the male straightens, even if only slightly.

“Anyways,” you chuckle once more, “we’re getting off track again.”

“Can you blame us?” Yunho clears his throat.

You smile at him from over top of Wooyoung’s head. “So, tomorrow, just be prepared to meet my parents.”

“We’ve never been more ready for anything in our entire lives.” Seonghwa admits, voice barely above a whisper.

“I think you’ll all get along with them just fine,” you say, watching as they straighten a bit from your subtle praise. “Though, I’d prefer it if you’d refrain from reading their thoughts.”

“We’ll do our best.” Yunho promises.

“I appreciate that,” you nod, a small upturn to your lips. “I can’t wait to see my dad attempt to intimidate you.”

Their eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Be prepared for these two questions,” you tell them, “one: ‘what are your intentions with our daughter?’. And two: something to do with your occupation.”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure ‘making her the Queen of Our Realm’ would be a sufficient enough of an answer to question one.” Hongjoong jokes, and you find yourself grinning along with him.

“My mom might swoon, but yeah, my dad might not be as impressed,” you laugh. “I’m sure you’ll all think of something. However, if you need conversation topics, my mother is an interior designer, and she loves to cook and bake. My dad, on the other hand, loves music, and is an author.”

“Is that where your love of books comes from?” Yeosang inquires.

“Most likely,” you shrug. “My mom was also the one who taught me to play the piano, so there’s that.”

A slight mewl from your feet draws your attention in the next moment, Kuroo jumping up onto the arm of the couch beside you. Immediately, you bring a hand up to begin scratching at his chest.

“You’ll also get to meet another fluff ball,” you say, noticing how Kuroo looks at you with those big, golden eyes of his. “Don’t worry, Little One, Sammy could never replace you. Though, he is a bigger Monkey than you are.”

A few chuckles sound around the room as Kuroo stands a little straighter on the arm of the couch.

“Unfortunately, you cannot come with us,” you lightly scratch Kuroo’s head, watching as he blinks at you in response. “Listen, if Weserton shows up, you will not be having a good time.”

“Weserton?” Yeosang quirks a brow at you from across the table.

“My sister’s dog.” You clarify, seeing nods of understanding all around.

“Is his name actually Weserton?” San’s brow furrows.

“Oh, no, that’s just what I call him.” You chuckle. “His name is just Wes, but I thought I’d make it fancy and combine it with Bridgerton.”

“What kind of dog is he?” Jongho asks.

“He’s a German Shepard.” You grin. “A fact which my sister will tell you all about.”

The way a fond look begins to shine in your eyes has all of them practically swooning once more. Nothing but tender love and affection fills their gazes as they watch you recount little details about your family, sharing them with all eight of them now.

“Anyways, I probably shouldn’t tell you everything about them before you meet,” you shift slightly, making yourself more comfortable on the couch as Kuroo crawls on top of the pillow still sitting in your lap. “Leaves more to be discovered tomorrow.”

“We appreciate you telling us all that you have, still,” Yunho speaks, voicing his brother’s thoughts for the moment. They can tell that even though you’re excited, you are a little nervous about the fact that they’ll be meeting your family for the first time.

“Again, we promise to be on our best behaviour,” Seonghwa reiterates, sharing a look with all of his brothers around the room.

You nod, that soft smile pulling at your lips once again. “I trust you.”

A comfortable silence settles over the nine of you.

“That’s pretty much all I had for the moment,” you say. “Unless you all had something for me.”

They all share a look, and you do not fail to see the way Jongho, Mingi, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa all shift slightly in their spots. Even Wooyoung turns slightly in your arms, a knowing gleam shining within his eyes.

“I can think of a few things,” Mingi chuckles.

You simply quirk a brow in response.

“Now then,” Jongho breathes, drawing your attention to him for the moment, “on to other important matters.”

“Yeah, like how you gave San one of your sweaters to wear first.” Wooyoung pouts, crossing his arms over his chest as he sits up and out of your embrace.

You shrug, “he said he was cold.”

“Starlight, you know both San and I can regulate our body temperatures at will, right?” Mingi leans towards you, keeping his voice low as a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

“No,” you quick a brow amusedly, turning your gaze towards San who is now glaring at Mingi. “I did not.”

“I’m surprised he even took it off,” Yunho chuckles. “He’s been wearing it every day since.”

“More like living in it.” Seonghwa grumbles, crossing his own arms over his chest.

“The only reason he took it off is because he spilt-“

Hongjoong’s words immediately get cut off as San slaps a hand over his Captain’s mouth. A nervous smile rests on his face as your eyebrows raise in amusement.

A look of disgust pulls onto San’s features, a whine escaping his lips as he tears his hand away from Hongjoong’s mouth. Immediately, the younger male starts wiping the palm of his hand on Hongjoong’s thigh, muttering curses about how the elder male licked him all the while.

You laugh, one of your own hands buried within Kuroo’s fur as you notice San pouting in your direction now.

“You know, if you guys want to wear my clothes, you’re more than welcome to-“

The words are hardly even out of your mouth when Wooyoung is flinging himself over the back of the couch and rushing towards your closet, Jongho and Seonghwa not far behind.

“You two,” you point towards San and Mingi, “are not allowed to touch my favourite sweater. Not after the last time.”

“It was an accident!” Mingi attempts to defend himself, lips tugging downwards in the corners.

“I don’t care,” you shake your head back teasingly, eyes wide. “I don’t want to be doing emergency surgery on the sleeves of my favourite hoodie every time you two decide to play tug of war with the material.”

“What are you two? Feral dogs?” Jongho reappears with one of your oversized crewnecks covering his frame, an amused look shining in his eyes as he sits back in his seat.

“Says the one who practically growled at me when I went to reach for the sweater you’re wearing,” Seonghwa muses, one of your many hoodies fitting comfortably over his body as he settles back into his chair.

“I’m surprised nothing else got torn apart,” Yeosang comments, burying the lower half of his face into the neck of the fuzzy jumper he’s now wearing.

“I don’t know, Joong and Wooyoung were fighting pretty intensely over that one shirt,” Yunho hums, reappearing on the one end of the couch wearing another one of your hoodies.

“I swear to everything-“

“Don’t worry, My Love,” Hongjoong reappearing on the arm of the couch in front of you wearing one of your cardigans manages to cut you off. “We figured it out.”

“More like I won,” Wooyoung’s smug voice greets your ears as you turn to see him walking over wearing one of your oversized t-shirts. A large grin rests on his face as he plops himself back down on the couch beside you, immediately leaning into your side once more. “Your clothes are comfy.”

“At least we can all agree on that,” Jongho hums, a collective sigh of bliss escaping all of them at once.

“I didn’t realize how many hoodies you own,” Mingi comments, burying himself deeper into the one he currently wears after sitting back down in his chair.

“It’s cause I only wear the same five in rotation,” you snort. “They are my favourite article of clothing. I think I must have at least twenty in counting.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that we can borrow them at any time?” San grins, appearing on the couch opposite you wearing another one of your cardigans. Only his is done up, with nothing underneath.

“As long as you tell me you’re the one that has it, borrow whatever you want.” You shrug, nonchalantly. Though, at the way you see Wooyoung’s eyes flash, you’re quick to add, “not my underwear.”

“Damn, and here I was thinking we’d get a free pass,” he grumbles, shaking his head teasingly.

“Don’t push your luck, Demon Boy,” you poke his cheek affectionately, feeling him smile against your side as he pulls himself closer into you.

Softly, you begin to thread your fingers through Kuroo’s fur, smiling as you hear him begin to purr in your lap. The affectionate stares you can feel being sent your way has you relaxing into this moment, right here, right now, with all of them. Already, your mind has started to calm down, and you cannot help but revel in this feeling.

Yeah. You could get used to this.

[raindrop-21]

Scarred Love - Chapter Seven: Sun And Moon

a/n: finally got some motivation and finished it, enjoy <3

Word count: 1,516

Cw: Ghoap x f!reader, soulmates, talk about scars, tiny mention if kidnapping[in a joking way] (Tell me if I missed any)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8~ Masterlist

Soulmates. You have them. They’re yours. All yours. How is this real? The happiness flowing throughout your body has made you energetic. The boys have taken you to a café to celebrate. Your entire body is still except for your mind and your leg that won't stop bouncing with adrenaline. You still can’t believe it’s real.

Johnny must be able to feel how the adrenaline is pulsing throughout your body with the way his hand is placed on your knee. You can tell he’s feeling the same way by the giddy smile on his face. Simon gets up to get your drinks once they’re ready, and when he’s back, he places your latte in front of you and Johnny’s mocha frappé in front of the two of you.

“I don’t think the two of you need any more serotonin in your systems.” He says with a huff as he places his own drink down; Earl Grey tea.

“We’re jus’ happy, ye’ big oaf.” You laugh at Johnny’s words.

The three of you spend a bit talking about small, mundane things before the topic of family is brought up. Oh no, you forgot that you had to meet their families… And they have to meet yours. Your family isn’t a big fan of them. All your family knows (thinks) is that your soulmate(s) didn’t give two shits about you and caused you a bunch of pain. That’s half true, they didn’t care about you because they didn’t know you were hurting with them, they didn’t know you existed. 

You can see it now; your mother red in the face, on verge of tears, a mix of joy and a mix of resentment, your father sitting on the couch acting like they don’t exist, keeping himself from yelling at them, your older sister looking at them with a look of jealousy and trying to figure out a way to steal them from you even though her soulmate is right next to her, the poor girl is so sweet, your younger brother wondering if the same will happen to him, but with two women, for the rest of the family; you can only imagine.

“Lass? Lass?” You’re pulled out of your train of thought by Johnny tapping your shoulder and calling for you. “Lass, you okay?”

“Yea… Just worried about the two of you meeting my family is all.” Johnny notices the truth behind your words by the sigh you let out and wraps an arm around you.

“Don’t worry Lass, me and Si can handle ourselves, right Si?”

“Right.” He huffs out.

You let out a sigh, “I believe you guys can handle yourselves, I do. It’s just that my family doesn’t exactly have… Nice opinions of the two of you…”

“Not nice opinions like how?” Simon says with a cocked eyebrow.

“Well…. They think you’re self-centered assholes who don’t give two shits about your soulmate and want to cause as much harm as possible to them.” The boys let out low whistles in response.

“Tha's no good…” Johnny mutters under his breath. “Could ye elaborate, Lass?”

You take in a deep breath, “I'm gonna say their hatred towards the two of you stem from the fact that not only was I born with a couple of scars, I continued getting small ones while I was little,” You hear Simon say something under his breath, you think he might've said “Curse that old bastard.”, “And between the ages of eight and now is when the scars and physical pain increased. I was badly bedridden for quite a bit.”

You can see the gears turning in both Johnny and Simon's head. What are they thinking about?

“Luvie, how old are you?” 

You look at Simon as he speaks to you, realizing you've never told either of them your age, and vice versa.

“I'm twenty-one, why, how old are the two of you?” Your curiosity is peaked, how old are the two men you're supposed to spend the rest of forever with?

Johnny sighs, “I'm twenty-six and Si's thirty-one.”

“Oh, that’s not that bad, only a 5 and ten year difference.” You say with a giggle.

“Yer still a kid.” Simon huffs out, which you take offense to, “I am not a kid. I can drink, drive, smoke, and vote, thank you.” You say, the attitude heavily present in your voice.

“A kid can do all that with a fake ID.” He counters, “Yer brain won’t fully develop ‘til yer twenty-five.”

You dramatically gasp at his response. The audacity of this man, “Then by that logic, Johnny’s brain just recently fully developed.” You snap back.

“Johnny’s a doofus, but the horrors of war matured him.” Johnny takes playful offense to Simon calling him a ‘doofus’.

The horrors of war, you might not have seen them, but you sure as hell felt them. The proof is literally etched into your skin by the hundreds of scars that are littered all over your body. A large one on your ass cheek for god’s sake, the recovery for that one was hell; you were either constantly standing or laying on your stomach. You couldn’t sit for weeks. It’s debatable what’s worse; seeing and feeling what’s happening to your body as it’s happening, or not knowing what’s happening, just being in pain. You don’t know what horrors they’ve seen, what plagues their mind, memories, and even dreams.

You sigh, you’re not going to argue and be stubborn, as much as you want to, you know whatever counterargument they have could easily prove you wrong or start an argument. So, you decide to use pure fact against them.

“Actually, due to brain metabolism, a woman’s brain develops three years faster than a man’s. Meaning, by next year my brain will be fully developed, and you guys know what horrors caused your scars, I don’t. I don’t know why I have a bunch of ragged lines and bullet wounds littered throughout my body. This may seem like an excuse or guilt trip of sorts, but it’s not. It’s just facts.” You say with a sigh.

Johnny and Simon just look at you, and it dawns on them that you were ten when Simon was eighteen, fourteen when Price recruited him for Task Force 141. Nineteen, with terrible scars that only multiplied when you were sixteen and Johnny twenty-four, a year into his military work and being recruited to the 141. Your scars only got worse and more visible, but instead of detesting the two who had caused you so much harm, you had walked up to them and spoke to them so shyly, thinking they wouldn’t believe you.

The strange silence is interrupted by a call you get, it’s from Eve. Holy crap, you forgot to call her. It’s nearly three in the afternoon. You look at the boys.

“Hey, this is important, I gotta take this. Do you mind if I take it at the table?”

“Go ahead.” They say in unison.

You sigh and answer the call, not too sure how Eve’s going to react, “Hello?”

“Girl! Why haven’t you called or texted me? I’ve been worried you got kidnapped!” She fussed, “It wouldn’t be hard…. Those two are freaking huge…” She mutters under her breath.

“I haven’t been kidnapped.” You respond with what seems like a sigh mixed with a giggle, your response makes Johnny and Simon raise their eyebrows, “I’m actually a legal step below being married and have full citizenship in Great Britain now.” After you say this you instinctively pull the phone away from your ear expecting her to happily squeal.

“Oh my god! You’ve found your soulmates!” She squeals out loudly, just as you expected her to. You can hear all types of giggles and congratulations from your other friends that are in the room with her, “You have to send us a picture of them!” She happily suggests.

You look over to Simon and Johnny before asking them, “My friends want to see a picture of the two of you, could I take and send one?”

You get an affirmative gruff from Simon, “Only if ye set it as yer lock screen after.” Johnny says with a grin, which you take as a yes.

You quickly pull up your camera app and position the camera correctly, “Say cheese.” You ring out playfully. Johnny smiles, pearly whites on full display, and Simon does smile, you can’t see his mouth from under the black surgical mask he’s wearing, but you can see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. You quickly take the picture and send it to your friend’s group chat.

The other line of the phone is silent for what seems like forever before you get a response, “Ho-ly Hell they are good-looking. They compliment each other so well, like the sun and the moon. You can be their Earth, their bringer of life.” Eve says with a giggle.

“Oh my god, ew. I’m hanging up.” You said with a giggle before hanging up the phone.

“So…. Kidnapping, pictures, and bringing life… Interesting topics…” Simon chides.

Taglist:

@under-the-dirt @littlebluespoon @actuallyhiswife @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @cdej6 @whynotbad @kaoyamamegami @oooof-ifellforyou @aldis-nuts @fanngirl19 @zealouspursecowboydeputy

[grippingbeskar]

unearthed

chapter eight - tested

warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death, a few heated moments, swearing

a/n: let’s ride let’s ride. sorry for last chapter, i’m trying to build tension as best i can. but, alas, a lady can only be edged so much, so. enjoy this lil hint at what’s to come. also a few people have messaged me, YES WE ARE GOING TO FUCK MANDO OKAY look who you’re talking to. but my God You heathens 🤺 GET BACK 🤺 we must first have our plot before we have our spice. WE MUST 🤺 just trust me okay. i love y’all. I WILL NOT LET YOU STARVE. lots of smut planned for this fic hehehehehehehehehe.

[series masterlist] [next chapter] [sign up to the taglist!]

This planet didn’t even have a name in the system it was crammed in. Just a bunch of numbers based on its jumbled coordinates. That’s how abandoned it was. As soon as you stepped out of the Crests hull, there was just… nothing. As far as you could squint and see, there was just broken-down ships and old junkyards covered in dust. Your arm covers the bright suns from your eyes, and you hear Dins’ heavy steps coming up behind you.

The holo-pad beeping in your hand is the perfect distraction from the quiet that settles between the two of you. You don’t look up when he comes next to you, grinding your teeth to stop from saying something stupid.

“Lead the way.” He says cooly, tucking the baby into his pod and pressing it closed before shutting Grogu safely into the Razor Crest.

“We’re leaving him here?” You ask, still squinting into the horizon. Din nods.

“A planet like this isn’t safe for him.” You feel his eyes on you, then his helmet tilts further to the holo-pad in your hands. “And the location isn’t too far out. We made good time.”

“Thanks to my flying?” You try, the tension following the two of you out of the Crest and hovering in the planet’s heated atmosphere. To your relief, he puffs out a breath a bit quicker than normal— he laughed. Thank the stars.

“Sure.” You smile at his reply, and then look away quickly back to the blinking holo-pad. He was right— it wasn’t too far away, maybe a twenty minute walk from where you’d landed. You’d have to leave the ship behind because the planets surface was too full of debris to land any closer, and it looked like there’d be a bit of climbing to do.

“It says it’s up three elevations. Look.” You hand him the pad, full of grids and flashing numbers displaying the exact coordinates, including levels above and below sea level. According to the increasingly annoying beeping, the closer you got, the higher the droids you were tracking.

Din nods, and continues to follow the blinking in silence. You swallow hard, and will yourself to keep up a steady front, not willing to let a little awkward moment phase your entire trip. You were doing something good— tracking this tech could lead you to your parents killers, and in turn prevent another attack on Mandalore, or your own planet. You needed focus, which is exactly what you didn’t have when you were fucking around and letting Dins hands wander your skin like a kid at a candy store.

It was just… a nice feeling. For a second there, you thought he might have enjoyed it, too. It had been longer than you were willing to admit since someone had touched you like…that. Your body practically sung to him the second he laid a finger on you. He made you feel things that no one, not even ex-partners, had made you feel. He was exciting. Exhilarating. He was the thing you shouldn’t have, but at the same time the thing you wanted the most. It would only complicate things to get… involved with someone like him, especially considering your unique situation.

But then again, it would make perfect sense. You were married to the man. What’s a few stolen touches between business partners, when you were also one day expected to have the man’s children?

As soon as the thought popped into your mind, Din froze, and you had the ridiculous thought that he might be reading your mind.

“It’s says the dump site is up there.” Din gestures to the towering form of a broken down cruiser.

This entire planet seems full of broken parts. Half ships, piles of service droids and random parts litter the ashy red surface, ruble expanding far out along the horizon. There were few planets like this anymore, but with the catastrophic consequences of the Clone Wars, all those remains had to end up somewhere. The Empire stashed them on uninhabited planets until they could figure out what to do with them, but when the New Republic took over, they had bigger fish to fry.

Therefore, now there were ‘junket’ planets, and if you could navigate to them, it was a free-for-all for parts.

You stand in front of what would have been a control cruiser— something used to deploy large squadrons of battle droids, maybe even move AT’s around back in the day. It was massive, even if it was in half. It looked like it had been dumped right on its nose, the giant expanse of it stretching up into the frosted clouds, making you squint again.

Your heart sinks a little at the thought. The entire ship was full of tiny piles of droids and broken down mechanics… and your fathers life work was just lumped in here. Like it meant nothing. All his free time was spend pulling apart these droids and learning them inside out, and now they were just a drop in the ocean of fading memories.

“We’ll have to fly up.” He says, and you laugh until you see him ready the jet pack on his back.

“You can’t be serious.” You dead pan, but he’s better at it. “We can’t just…”

“You see a ladder around here?” You stare back up at the massive cruiser— even if there was a manual way up, it’s a hell of a climb. This thing was huge. “If you don’t want to, I can go myself—“

“No. I want to.” You cut in. He takes a step towards you, and even though you burn with the earlier rejection, you don't move away.

He says nothing, but when he wraps his solid arm around you, he doesn’t need to.

He pulls you close— so close that every part of you presses and aches against him. Instead of looking where he’s supposed to be taking you, the black visor tilts down, and he looks just at you. You think about what he would be like under there. If his eyes would be on yours, or if they’d look lower, to where your skin touches his armour. He must like that, the way you look against him. You… you hope he doesn’t mind it.

“Hold on.” He says lowly, and you ever so slowly wrap your arms around his neck. He dips down to let you reach, and as soon as you have a grip, he takes off.

Your feet leave the ground and suddenly you’re flying— like, really flying, drifting higher and higher along the ruins of the transporter ship. You try not to squeak and fail when he picks up speed and turns slightly, your legs wrapping around him and head burying into his neck. You weren’t afraid— but shit, this was higher than it looked.

“It’s okay.” He soothes, and your head shakes from its sealed position. “Hey, look up.”

“No!” You scream almost in his ear, and he laughs.

“It’s okay… do you trust me?” He asks it so smoothly, as if he wasn’t holding you a hundred meters in the air on nothing but a jet back the size of a baby. But— you do. You do trust him.

So, you look.

By the time you open your eyes, he’s slowing down, dropping the two of you onto a jagged platform that looks like an old control room. In the broken centre, there are several piles of droids stacked and discarded, some still in their full form, others pulled apart. It was clear you weren’t the first ones here.

Din doesn’t let go of you right away. His arm remains tightly wrapped behind the small of your back, and he takes three or four steps away from the edge to pull you further into the wreckage. You can feel every step, every twist of his muscles against you, and your eyes finally look back up to him, watching as he inhales deeply. You feel it too, how hard his chest is against yours, almost like he’s taking you in to his lungs.

Then he quickly lets go, stepping back away from you.

The holo pad beeps wildy, a sound you hadn’t picked up on when Din had been holding you. You manage to look at it, seeing the bright red dots point you somewhere deeper into the cavern of ruins. Din looks at you, then down the darkened hallway, and clearly makes a decision as he takes a few calculated steps in the right direction. You follow close behind, but when you go to reach down into the pile and investigate, a gloved hand catches yours.

“Careful.” He says, and guides your hand back to your side. “There’s all kinds of junk in here. I’ll do it.”

Speechless, you just nod, and watch as he digs with none of the care he guided your hands with. It’s embarrassing how mesmerised you get watching him do just about anything, but you also feel a twinge of guilt at the earlier events.

Who did he think he was, leading you on with that fake ‘pilot lesson’, letting you get all close and personal only to pull away when you made a move? It wasn’t even a move, really. You’d just— grabbed him.

Okay, yeah, maybe it was a move.

But he’d started it. With those longing stares, poetic words and fucking hands— the same hands now yanking on the end of a familiar looking droid. Very familiar.

“Oh, shit. That’s— that’s it!” You say, your eyes wide as the Mandalorian pulls free a dull silver battle droid with red crosses over where it’s ‘eyes’ would be. “That’s the lazer one!”

Din promptly dropped it, angling it’s face away from you and toward him.

You feel your heart soar. A real lead— a tangible piece of your fathers history, however crushed and mangled it was, is really here. You were on the right track. You were on a track! You couldn’t help but sprint faster, mind already firing at a mile a minute.

“Okay— so we’re here. It’s here. Now what?” You say, bending down to look closer at the lifeless droid. It was bent out of shape now, clearly moved with zero care when it was taken from your planet. Or maybe in a rush. “You know anything about the rest of this stuff? Who would have dropped it here?”

Din carefully walks around the edge of the wreckage, keeping his back to you as he examines the rest of the stuff. To your knowledge, it’s all from the years just before the fall of the Empire. A lot of it is unfinished, made in a rush, and he’s right— it would all be extremely temperamental. Your dad used to keep it well away from the main part of the castle, knowing how fast it could turn into a mess.

Just like it did.

“Look at this.” He calls you over, still keeping his back to you and eyes over the top of the wreck. He’s standing a little too close to the edge for your liking, so you take to standing behind him, attempting to peak over his shoulder.

“It’s… a tank.” You say, looking up at him, slightly confused why this would be a noteworthy discovery. There’s crashed ships and tanks all over this planet. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“Look behind it. A clear line, nothing for miles. The entire planet is covered in junk— but it’s clear behind it. Enough room for it to turn around and back out.” You… hadn’t put that together, actually. He’s right again. The tank is pretty big, but there’s tracks in the sand, and you can only see them because, conveniently, nothing is in its path. It’s moved. Recently. “They’ve been using it to haul their loot in and out.”

“Who’s they?” Din looks back at you, and you hadn’t realised how close you’d gotten to him. It always seemed to happen like that— an unconscious magnetic force drawing you closer to him when you needed to feel safe. You step back, now that you think about it.

“Those used to be Imperial Assault hover tanks. Before your time.”

“You are not old enough to say ‘before my time’.” He laughs, and you feel drawn closer.

“It looks like the back of them have been cleaned out for storage. The hollow dip at the back—“ He points, shuffling back so your eye-line is in line with his hand. You were tracking him anyways. “None of that would be open. It’s all closed in, full of weapons or extra troopers. They needed at least three to drive the thing— now, it’d only fit the commander. The driver. The only people who know those tanks well enough to cut out the wiring and hollow them out would be—“

“Yeah.” You breathe out. Of course the Empire was involved, but this looked like a far bigger operation than just your fathers old projects. “So, we know the Empire, or a smaller force of what used to be them, is gathering old, experimental technology and tossing it on an abandoned planet. But, we don’t know who’s running that operation, or why.”

Din wraps his arm around your back and pulls you to him again, knocking the wind out of you. Before you can say anything, process the tightness of his body against yours, your feet leave the panel and you’re airborne again.

“Shit—“ You nearly shout, words muffled into the crook of Dins neck, and you feel him laugh as you bury your face further into the warmth of him. He doesn’t take off particularly fast, and you are pretty sure he’s flying you back down at half the pace he took you up, but your stomach still drops, and your arms pull his head so close your surprised he can see where he’s going. “Warning next time, please.”

“It’s better this way.” He says, the smile in his voice trilling through you, the slow descent nearing a close. As much as you aren’t a fan of flying in the air like this, having him this close is something you’d sacrifice pretty much anything for. “Stop thinking about it.”

“The jetpack is tiny. I don’t know how it holds you up, let alone me.” His other arm wraps around you now, fingers splayed along your ribcage, pressing hard against your skin.

“It’s okay. You’re fine. I promise.” It’s strange, how his words manage to calm you so easily, even with the tension between you.

Before you know it, there’s sand under your feet, and Din is stepping away again.

“We’ll move the ship up, find a place to stake out here for the night. The tracks were fresh, so they probably make regular rounds. If we stay hidden, we should have them by the time the sun rises.” Your eyes widen.

“Have them?”

“You’ll stay on the ship, and I’ll bring them in.” You roll your eyes, walking behind him as you both head back towards the ship. “We need to be quiet, in and out before the notice us. I’ll pick someone off for questioning.”

“I’m not helpless. I can come with you.”

“I didn’t say you were. But you’re staying in the ship anyways.” He slows his pace so you can catch up, his large frame brushing against your arm with every step. “If I need a quick exit, I’ll call you. You’ll have to fly to me.”

You burst out in a short, truncated laugh. You. Fly the Razor Crest. Unattended. In an emergency situation.

“That is hilarious. When they said Mandalorians’ don’t joke, Your voice flattens, and he… wait. He isn’t kidding. “Din. You’re joking, right?”

He laughs when you shove him, still staring straight out towards the horizon. This feels better— this is… better.

You berate him all the way back to the ship, and he keeps laughing.

She was ethereal, almost. Din had seen a thousand skies, watched a million suns set on planets that never etched into his mind— but this was memorable. He would remember this until the end of his days.

You, face nearly pressed to the cold glass of the Crest, watching in wonder as the fourteen suns all set in a simultaneous, almost domino effect behind the horizon. Din admitted it was a sight to watch, but if he were anywhere else, if he were with anyone else who didn’t capture his attention so fully like you did, he doubted he would have noticed.

You haven’t turned back to him in a while. Not since you walked quietly through the hatch, settling yourself pointedly into the co pilots chair. He doesn’t know why you doubt your ability— he hardly had to help you fly through one of the most complicated asteroid belts in the galaxy. You could fly to him with your eyes closed.

He trusts you.

He finds himself waiting for it. Waiting for you to turn back around, focus your steeled eyes on him and smile or make fun of him. He hangs on every word— only managing to hide the way you wrap him in conversation because he was hidden from you. He nearly wishes he wasn’t— that he was more transparent. Maybe then he wouldn’t send so many of the wrong signals.

The truth was he wanted you. He let some other part of him take over during the flight here— spending so much time caring for you, locked away in closed rooms, watching you take slow, shallow breaths, unsure if you’d wake up or not. It did something to him. And then, your hand in his, driving his ship through open space… there was something old and nearly primal in that feeling in his chest. That all of the rest of this was his— and that you could be.

If you could see his face, you’d know.

Instead, you looked crushed when he pulled away. He knew what you’d said before— that you wanted this to be business. You probably had someone waiting for you back home, someone kind and warm, someone who could share moments like this morning with you and not have to pull away. Someone who could kiss you when they wanted, show you how bad they needed you whenever they wanted.

Most of all, someone else could have you tied to them in a way you chose— not by some contract.

Still, it always comes back to your eyes. That look you got, how disappointed you were when he pulled away. It gave him a horrible feeling in his gut, but also hope. There was a spark there, and he couldn’t stifle it any longer.

If you gave him the chance, he was going to let it burn him to the ground.

“Hey.” Din calls to you, voice as soft as melted butter. “We should get set up. It’ll be a long night.”

Your eyes draw away from the fading blasts of orange across the sky, settling on his ink black visor. Sometimes, if he stood in direct sunlight like right now, and he looked up just a little, you swore you could see his eyes. Maybe just an outline, but there was something under there. Maybe it was bad to try and look, but you couldn’t help it. There was a flutter of eyelashes, a glint of the whites of his eyes. One time you think he was smiling, because you swore the hardly-there outline crinkled together.

You, instead of sharing any of these findings, just nod and follow him. When he turns, the light goes with him, and it’s nearly pitch black in the locked down Crest. The baby is hidden away, tucked tightly into his crib after a long day of wandering around and stuffing his face, and now that the Crest is hidden behind a large pile of garbage, it gives you the perfect vantage point on the tank. If it so much as creaks, you and Din will have eyes on it.

When the two of you go back upstairs to the cockpit, Din locks the doors behind you.

“So, who’s taking the first shift?” You hang your legs over the armrest and lean your back against the other side of the chair. “I vote me. I think I’ve slept more in the past two days than I have since I was coronated.”

“We both should stay awake. You watch the south.” He nods to the far side of where the Crest is parked. It’s dark, and you have to lean forward to make out the shapes. If anything moves, hopefully the calm of the sandy surface will be disturbed and make it obvious. “Okay?”

“Sounds good.” You reply, and shift in your seat. For the first time since you’ve met him, the silence is somewhat unpleasant. What happened only a few hours before— that short but intense moment of… intimacy? Something like that. Whatever it was, it still hangs in the air, draping heavily over your shoulders making you want to sink into the floor.

The hum of the ship ceases, and holy stars— it’s so silent. He was quiet by design, by trade, but you were used to filling the gaps. Finding topics that even the advisors and rulers you were least interested in could chat about, but filling this silence right now with Din? You have nothing. Nothing. Maybe you should of taken those talking points Correll offered you before you left—

Being honest with yourself, you could have all the talking points in the world and you’d still only want to ask him one thing.

“Can I ask you a question?” You blurt out, and he turns to you slowly, nodding and then return to watching his side of the planet. “What was that? This morning?”

“What was… what.” His voice is so calculated and calm. It’s… fuck, it’s hot. You shouldn’t think about it at all— but you analysed every word out of his mouth.

“That whole thing. Was that— I know we’ve been stuck together for while, and maybe we’re getting stir crazy or whatever. Was it just a… blip?”

“A blip?”

“Yeah. Like— when you lock two people in a storage closet, somethings bound to happen if they’re stuck there long enough.” Your heart was in your throat, and this was probably the most uncomfortable moment you’ve had in your entire life. Ever. “I know a lot has happened in the past few weeks, and you saved my life, and we’re on this really important trip right now— it’s a lot. I just… I’ve never been good at leaving things how they are—“

“I can tell.”

“And I don’t want anything uncomfortable between us. We’re partners. Good ones. I don’t want to mess that up.” He’s now staring at you, the steady rise and fall of the beskar across his chest giving you nothing. You finally manage to stop rambling when you watch his hands tighten around the armrests. The leather strains under the pull.

“You were uncomfortable?” Your eyes go wide, and a scoff-like laugh bubbles out before you can stop it.

“No. Stars, no, I wasn’t saying that—“ Okay, you tell yourself. Dial it back. “I just know that you are… you know, you. And you don’t want— that. And we’re married, but we aren’t. Married. Really. Plus the whole ‘only business!’ thing we— I said. Well, I said it, but you— you kind of agreed but then there was the whole ‘oh, let me teach you to fly’ as if that wasn’t some kind of move—“

“Hey. It’s okay.” He manages to get in between your insufferable rambling. You were clambering to try and get a lid on your fucking mouth but all it took was three words from him and your mind went blank. Fuzzy, even. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“What? No. I’m not—“ You swallow hard. Twelve years of training as a Queen, and you’re fumbling the minute he looks at you different. Fucking perfect. “You’re just… a lot to handle right now. And it’s late and I’m confused and a little terrified that I’m actually going to have to fly this ship without guidance and crash, stranding us on an abandoned planet no one knows about.”

You look back out to the completely silent planet, and suddenly have the urge to stand up. You get as close to the glass as possible, no longer able to bear the thought of looking at him.

“What are you trying to say?” He tries, the modulator making you shiver at the low, rough tone.

“I’m saying you’re hard to read. I thought I had it down, had you figured out but it’s… more confusing than I thought.” Words are less rambled— you’re more put together when you aren’t staring at him. Yeah, he definitely makes your brain fuzzy.

“I think you have me figured out.” Dins’ boots are loud as they take two steps, telling you he’s stood up. The cockpit is small, and two more will mean he’d be right behind you.

You keep staring out at the desolate planet, ignoring his looming figure over your shoulder.

You laugh dryly at his comment. “You think?”

“I do.” Your eyes shut for a moment, eyelashes fluttering.

“How do you figure that?” You’re out of breath, tired from everything that’s happened today and your rambling outburst, but then he does something that wakes up everything in your body.

You feel his hand, just the tips of his gloved fingers, graze along the back of your forearm.

“You read right through me. I wouldn’t let just anyone bang up my ship like that.” You let out a soft laugh.

“That’s your move, huh? Nearly killing us in the middle of nowhere?” The ship is so quiet, his soft little ‘mhmm’ nearly lost in the still cockpit. It’s gotten darker, too. The suns fully settled for the night on the opposite side of the planet, shrouding the ship so dark that you can only see the outlines of the little red and green buttons on the control pads. “I guess it worked.”

“Did it?” His fingers on your forearm get bolder, leaving goosebumps where they drift a little higher. “Because it seems like I’ve only made you more confused.”

“We can’t— you said it yourself. This… we can’t afford to be distracted.” Your words are hard, but your tone is so, so unconvincing.

“You’re right.” You go to spin around, but his hand wraps around your arm. You’re so shocked by the move that you freeze. “I said that.”

“Yeah…” The air in your lungs evaporates when his hand loosens and travels higher. His fingers trail up past your shoulder, slowly tracing your outline until he brushes past your collarbone.

“This is a business transaction. We signed a contract.” You nod, and he hooks his fingers into the few locks of hair that hang over your face, tucking them behind your ear. “You said you wanted nothing but that.”

“I…did.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears. He brushes past your ear and down, letting it drift through the strands and down the back of your neck.

“Why?”

“It’s better if it’s not— complicated.”

“Yeah?” His voice is impossible to ignore, all soft and pillowy like a velvet blanket. You clear your throat, and he steps just a little bit closer. You’re warm all over, feeling him so close. “Is that what you want now?”

“I…”

“Is it what you want?” His hand is still on you, warm through the layer of leather and your clothes— his clothes. “Or have you changed your mind?”

You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his cold helmet against your shoulder, telling you he’s leant down even further. You try your hardest to keep and eye on your post, but the blackened desert is an impossible target compared to what’s behind you. He lets the edge of his helmet drag lightly over your shoulder, like he’s leaving the kiss of metal in place of his mouth.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You can hear his smile. “You don’t want that anymore?”

“No. I want— complicated.” All in one breath, you blur the lines of your carefully set relationship. Although, the only one who was drawing that line was you.

Your planet. Your rule. That was what was most important to you. It had to be. Out here, all this open space and chasing leads would come to an end, and all this simplicity would stay out here, between the stars. You didn’t have a choice but to shut yourself to the warmth creeping up your back, the soft hand brushing your cheek. You… you had to draw that line.

But a toe across it wouldn’t hurt, right?

A small, tiny step over that stupid line in the sand. Blurring it for a night. That couldn’t hurt anyone. In fact, it might be more painful to turn him away right now.

“Turn around.” He orders softly, and your eyes leave your post as you spin slowly to face him. You tilt your chin up, feeling his fingers catch on your jaw. He lets them slip along the soft skin, as if he’s exploring a part of you he’s never seen before. You wondered how he’d look at the rest of you— if this divine curiosity would follow him all over you. “There you are, cyar’ika.”

It sounds beautiful, whatever that word is, rolling off his tongue in that signature purr he does so well. You smile, letting your lashes flutter under the attention. He lets out a long breath, one that would kiss your cheeks and warm your face if he let it. You have no idea what he has planned for you, but you lean up on your toes and let him do it.

“As pretty as your eyes are, I want you to close them.” You do it so fast it makes him laugh, a soft, nearly gentle sound that breaks the quiet of the ship. “You take orders well— where was that eagerness before?”

“I’m more interested in this.” You say and pout, keeping your eyes shut tightly. He hums, and then moves away.

“Stay like that.” He says, but it sounds… different. Maybe he’s walked too far, but it was almost like his voice was lighter. Not backed with the same kind of cooling confidence he naturally exuded.

Something fell on the ground near you, and you flinched.

“Keep your eyes closed.” He says again, and something else drops. It falls softly, like a piece of material hitting the hull.

“They are closed.” You huff, impatient and a little nervous. What the hell was he doing…

“Good. Keep them like that.” He teases. Your heart manages to calm its rapid beating for a second or two until you hear the unmistakable hiss of a seal being opened.

Leather pulls under the weight of the helmet as he places it down on the chair.

You didn’t have to open your eyes. You could tell— the weight of it, the hiss and sound of his hands against the beskar. You knew he was now standing in front of you, while his helmet was on the pilots seat.

You didn’t so much as breathe.

“I was… I was going to do this on—“ He stutters, thinking for a second. “before. But I think I like you better like this.”

“Sweaty and in the dark?” His soft laugh is unobstructed, and it’s one of your new favourite things.

“The best things for a Mandalorian happen in the dark, cyar’ika.” You’re pretty sure you gasp at the double edged words, your heart skipping several and all too important beats.

“Oh?” You hear him take another step, and your back arches on instinct. “And… what are those things?”

“Let me show you one of them.” You sigh at the sound of his voice. It’s him, but smoother. Warmer. It feels like a gentle brush of warm wind, curving over your chest and settling deep inside of you. When he speaks to you, he only uses the softest murmur, and it makes you weak in the knees.

Then, your face floods with heat as two bare hands take your cheeks in their palms.

His hands were rough. Even through the gloves, you have no doubt they are worn on every day from the relentless hard labour he puts in. The gloves would be more for covering reasons than protection— you think it would actually be easier for him to pull a trigger without them. Maker knows you’ve spent enough time staring at his hands to know their details— every stitch and cross is known to you, but it’s nothing compared to the real thing.

They’re big, too. They match the rest of him, the tips of his fingers gently nudging your hairline as his thumbs drag softly along your slightly agape lower lip. You have no doubt you gasped or sighed when he put his hands on you, but you couldn’t help it. It felt good— better than it should. Just having his hands on you, flesh on flesh, was exhilarating in a whole new way. Feeling him like no one else had… or at least you think no one else had.

It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered when he touched you. Then, he leant closer, and all hope was lost.

“Is this okay?” He asks, voice hardly above a whisper. His face is so close that his nose bumps against yours, a move that makes you giggle in surprise. You nod rapidly, trying not to wriggle too much and give the impressing that you want him to let go. It’s the last thing you want.

He sucks in a breath, going to say something else, but he must decide against it. Because he leans in then, and your mind fizzles to nothing but the Mandalorian, and the soft, sweet kiss he presses to your lips.

Everything moves in slow motion. The gentle move of his hands threading through your hair, the way he presses just slightly closer, giving you a little more pressure in the kiss. The way he smiles against you when you make a small noise. Everything swirls and flips in your stomach, it’s as if someone has set off a real firework in your stomach.

You take a step in, pressing your body to his. You feel him hard everywhere else— beskar lined along you, and the feeling is comfortable now that his lips are soft and warm and against yours. A reminder of flesh under the steel. You don’t move your hands to his face, afraid to see him that way, and instead settle them on his waist.

You tug on him, his hips stumbling forward after a clumsy step, and then collide with yours. He pulls away for a moment and you nearly whine.

“Din—“

“Mm?”

“Don’t fucking stop now.” You pull him again, and you feel him smile against your mouth.

He takes another step, pressing you between him at the side of the ship as he kisses you again, harder. He’s not as soft— still sweet and gentle but a little more desperate now, the show of hunger making you return it in earnest. He tastes good, so much better than the depths of your imagination could of thought up.

He hooks his hands under your thighs, the small squeak you make muffled into his mouth when you’re suddenly hauled upwards and your legs lock around his waist. It eases the ache in your chest, the closer confines of how he holds you. One arm stays underneath you, effortlessly keeping you suspended while the other holds the back of your neck. He keeps you sealed to him, tongue dancing with your own, and a small groan escapes him at the feeling, sounding low and nearly distant.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe— he was dissipating the rest of the world from you with nothing but warm bare hands and a talented mouth. You fist your hands in his hair and pull a little, not missing the way the soft strands curl around your fingers. You committed every small part he gave you to memory. His hand somehow felt bigger than they looked, and his hair was… long. And soft. Unfairly soft. You tug on it again, and he smiles a little and nips at your bottom lip.

“Don’t be cruel, cyar’ika.” His mouth trails away, leaving warm, wet kisses along your jaw, teeth trailing behind in a soft drag. For someone with their head in a tin can, he certainly knows what to do with his mouth.

“M’not. Y-you…” Breathless, you listen to him chuckle at the state he’s rendered you to. “You have nice hair. Long. Good to pull.”

“Mm. Really…” Mumbled against your neck, you shiver at the playful tone now drifting warmly over your neck.

You manage a small “Yeah. It’s pretty.”

“You can’t see it.” His nose drags up higher, and as he shifts, the hardness of his armour moves between your legs. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter.

“Shut up, smart-ass.” You grumble and he laughs, but obliges you. It’s slow again, and he licks into your mouth like he’s never tasted something so sweet in his life. He lets out an uninhibited groan, forehead pressing heavily into yours. He moves the arm underneath you, grinding your hips against his armour again, and your eyes roll back underneath your eyelids. “Fuck, Din.”

“You like that, don’t you?” He covers your mouth with his again so you lose your answer. “Sh—shit You’re so soft against me. So perfect.”

You nod as his teeth tug on your lips. “Yeah— yes. Not… not enough, though—“

“I know, I know cyar’ika. Let me—“ He cuts himself off, and with your eyes shut you have no idea what’s happened. It isn’t until he groans and swears under his breath that you know it isn’t good.

“Din?”

“They’re here.” Your back nearly misses the cool press of the side of the ship when Din pulls you off it, taking two or three steps backwards. You yelp in surprise, clinging to him for only a second, and then he leans down and you’re sat in a chair. “Stay.”

“Din—“ You go to stand but he’s too bulky in front of you, pressing a hand to your shoulder, and then he leans forward and kisses you on the forehead.

It’s so stupidly simple, but your heart flutters into a million little butterflies.

“Don’t go alone. Let me come with you.” You whisper into the darkness, your eyes still shut tightly.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care. Let me go with you.”

“Stay.” He leans forward again, kissing your cheek. “Please.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him say that before. It makes your heart stutter in your chest, and your stomach swirl with uncertainty.

“If you don’t come back, I will destroy this ship coming to get you.” Your eyebrows furrow together, and he laughs. This time, the warmth of it graces your cheeks, and it has you arching off the chair to get closer to him.

“I’ll be back with your enemies, my Queen. Before you know it.” You hear the click of his helmet go back on, and the feeling of him kneeling in front of you leaves too fast to register.

By the time you open your eyes, he’s gone, and the only trace of him left behind is the burn his lips left behind on your now too cold skin.

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[striderepiphany]

My favorite reddie fics masterpost

I have an absolutely insane number of reddie fics saved in my bookmarks for how recently I joined this fandom so I decided to share my absolute favorites with you. Please give these authors some love and let me know which ones are you've read and enjoyed!

the year of the goat and your kid back by derryfacts2

1 chapter, 14,838 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: The day you get the most important email of your life, there’s a new black skidmark on the wall of the stairwell, and you know exactly whose fault it is. “Margaret,” you intone to the harried, wild-haired woman in the lobby. She sighs at you as she tries to jimmy her mail key loose. “I know.” It wouldn’t even be that bad if the kid would just skateboard outside. Or get good at skateboarding. Either of those things. Maggie’s a nice lady, though, and she’s had “trying my best” scribbled all over her since they moved into 6B maybe eight years ago. So you try not to be a dick, even if her son is a gold-standard pain in the ass. He’s good for three things: smells, noise, and reminding you how big Eddie must be by now.

The first It fic I read that made me go "holy shit, this is fantastic" and remains one of my all-timers (hence why its first in this list). Really fun and unique outsider POV from Eddie's estranged gay dad, and tells a very sweet story mostly through dialogue. Young adult Eddie and Richie are very cute.

i think the clock is slow by derryfacts2 (again)

3 chapters, 15,815 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: So there was that reason that work wasn’t boring, too. There was Richie’s soppy campaign of making cow eyes at the back of Eddie’s head as he passed, gently pressing Betty for details about his personal life (“I don’t think he has one. He had this awful fiancé a few years ago, but we’re all glad that’s over”), and chasing the incomparable high of a quiet, muttered “Thanks, Rich” whenever Richie picks something up for him from the copier.

Richie is a wannabe stand-up comic daylighting as the receptionist at Eddie's office. Eddie is a tightly-wound corporate asshole. They are both disasters. Or: five times Richie watched Eddie and one that Eddie watched him back.

I really enjoy workplace dramas and this one satisfied the itch so well. So many good scenes and dialogue, this author characterizes them in a way that really works for me. The perfect read-in-an-afternoon fic.

listen to my heart (can you hear it sing?) by vampirerising

12 chapters, 137,708 words, Major Character Death. Summary: "You need to wake up now,” Stan says softly. “This isn’t real.”

“I know, but I can’t,” Richie sobs. “I don’t want to be here.” Not again. Never again. It is dead, why is It still haunting him?

Stan fixes him with one of those looks of his, the one where he can see his every thought as if it were written on his face. “That’s not true, Trashmouth.”

Alternatively: We all know Richie gets caught in the Deadlights, but do we really know what happens after?

(Deadlights, timelines, Stan’s ghostly meddling—oh, my.)

This one is fucking weird in a way that I absolutely adore. Kind of like a sci-fi novel in that it requires you to pay attention to figure out what the fuck is going on but its so good and worth it. The MCD is Stan, not Eddie, and the last couple chapters are actually a very normal domestic Eddie lives AU. One of the first reddie artworks I made was fanart for a scene from this fic that I really enjoy.

a strange sense of familiarity by Katranga

21 chapters, 103,571 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "So Eddie, what brings you to the bar tonight?" Richie asked. "Gonna rebound from the divorce? Pick up a hot young twenty-something to feel young again?” “Fuck you,” Eddie said, jutting his chin forward. “What a terrible way to ruin the mood.” “I’m sorry, all my moods are poorly cultivated. What mood were you looking for?” A nervous lump grew in Eddie's throat. He threw back his drink to get rid of it.

Hand wrapped around the glass he’d just slammed back onto the bar, he said, “The mood that gets me leaving with a schlubby forty-something.”

Pre-chapter two, Eddie and Richie meet and don't remember each other, but have an instant connection anyway...

This one is just... so fucking good. Decently long without ever feeling like it's dragging. Part 1 is them developing their totally-casual-I-swear relationship, which blows up right when Mike calls them back to Derry. Part 2 is them navigating both killing a nightmare clown demon and the awkwardness between them. Also everybody lives! So that's nice.

change partners by avacadomoon (with podfic available)

1 chapter, 30,453 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "Rich," Eddie says heavily. Meaningfully, and Richie holds his breath, both afraid and hopeful that Eddie is about to say something really sappy, like I always knew and it didn't matter to me, or you know I support you no matter what. Eddie takes a deep breath before he speaks, and Richie closes his eyes, braced for it. "I didn't look at your dick pics."

"Well hey, Eds, thanks," Richie says, laughing incredulously. "Thanks for that."

I LOVE THIS ONE SOOO FUCKING MUCH. I urge you to consider this as a rec for this author as well, as they have a bunch of other reddie fics I think are fantastic. I have a weakness for any reddie fic that lets them be just a little mean to each other. As a treat. (Also the podfic is very well done, you should check that out too.)

check raise by avacodomoon

1 chapter, 15,061 words, No Archive Warnings Apply. Summary: "Eddie, not a fan of stand up comedy, not a fan of his beer," Rich says, leaning back on one elbow and squinting at him, like he's lining him up in a camera lens frame, "but what is he doing drinking alone?"

"I was alone, and now I'm not," Eddie says. "Some prick sat down next to me and started yapping."

"Ah, unpleasant to talk to," Rich concludes. "Explains a lot."

I know I meant the last rec as a blanket rec for all this author's works but I'm including this one specifically because it has a twist ending that is well-foreshadowed and it slapped my dick clean off.

Things that Happen after Eddie Lives by IfItHollers

11 chapters, 107,947 words, Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings. Summary: In a world where Richie manages to save Eddie from It after the deadlights, they still have problems on their to-do list. Featuring everything from Derry to Los Angeles—Richie Tozier's murder trial, Eddie Kaspbrak's divorce proceedings, bedsharing of the platonic and non-platonic varieties, an investigation of magic, a truly disgusting séance, the quintessential morosexual road trip, and OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

Definitely NOT your average Eddie lives AU. Drama! Mild peril! Psychic abilities! The ghost of Stanley Uris collect calling from beyond the grave via Richie Tozier's vocal chords! Fun and freaky and weird. Three things that make any fic a Josh favorite.

I'm going to stop there because I'm sleepy but let me know if you want more! Like I said I've got like 70 of these lovingly tucked in my bookmarks and I'm happy to share with the class.

[imtooscaredforthis]

Entrapment

Chapter Twenty Eight: Caught

Mentions of: Murder, Gore, Character Death, Paranoia, Manipulation, and Stabbing

A/N: Kinda rushed but whatever..more coming soon!

Tags: @elentiyaiswriting @dead-bxxxtch-walking

@vandeaad @mama-miya @the-fandoms-georgie

Everything has been settled for a little while. There weren’t any murders or messages left in your car and apartment. You were finally starting to feel safe. You knew you shouldn’t. Not when this many people have been hurt. He’s up to something, you know it.

He’s luring you into a false sense of security, and once you finally let your guard down, he’ll strike. But even with that fear, you had to admit, it was nice, to feel slightly more okay again. You were starting to sleep again, and the nightmares were going away.

“It’s so weird, you know? The town’s quiet. The quietest it has been in a while.” Rachel remarked you, her and Jed standing around the coffee machine. For once, work was slow.

“Yeah, for once there’s nothing for us to write about. Maybe he’s finally gone.” Jed shrugged.

You gazed over at Jed, fearing that if he was even mentioned, he would come back. He would be here. Summoned like the monster he was. You didn’t comment, just gazed into the black pool of your coffee, before pouring some sugar into it and stirring.

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

“I mean, like, what if people are onto him, so he’s running?”

“You think the cops are finally starting to figure it out?”

Bullshit. You don’t buy it. The cops were hardly making progress. If they did, they would announce any developments in their investigation. They would show a sketch, and the only thing they had was that damn mask. If anything, you were the closest one to cracking it, and you were hardly making any progress.

Jed shrugged. “I don’t know. But I hope so.”

“Are you okay?” Jed asked, resting a hand on your shoulder and snapping you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What do you think? You think he’s finally gone?”

You wanted to believe it. That you were safe. That everything’s going to be okay. You wanted to lie. But you couldn’t. Not to yourself, and not to them. “No. I mean, he has so much publicity. He wants the attention. He wouldn’t just disappear. Not without sending some sort of message first.”

Jed looked worried but also intrigued. Rachel seemed scared. “Why would you say something like that? Don’t you want him gone?”

“Of course I do.” You replied, fidgeting with the mug in your hand. “I just- I think we should be careful, that’s all.”

“Aren’t you tired of being careful? Of being afraid? He killed my friends, _____. He’s hurt people. So, I’m going to be happy that we’re finally safe again. You should be too.” With that, she walked off, leaving you to call after and feel guilty.

“Don’t, just give her some space.” Jed stopped you. “This is hard on her.”

“It’s hard on me too. She’s acting like this hasn’t affected me either. Like I haven’t lost anyone.” You said, frustrated.

“I know you have, and I know what you’re going through is rough. It’s just…Rachel has grown up here. This place is her home, and everyone she knows and loves isn’t safe, which is terrifying.” Jed tried to reason.

You sighed. “I know. And I know you guys are probably right. I want you guys to be right. But, I have a bad feeling.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure him out eventually. Killers like that don’t have that much publicity and get away with it.” He did have a point. Not to mention how arrogant he was. Ghostface is smart and he knows that, but he thinks he can get away with everything. He thinks he can hurt you, and use you, that he can do whatever he wants, and that will be his downfall.

“No matter what happens, I’ll do what I can to protect you. I promise. You call me and I’ll be there. Anytime, anyplace, just call me.” He took your hands in his, giving them a soft squeeze.

You smiled at him, leaning in and giving his lips a soft peck. “Thanks, Jed.”

Someone else came in, causing the two of you to pull away from each other. It was time to get back to work.

–

Even after what happened earlier, Rachel still invited you and Jed out for drinks. You would reason against it and tell her that it’s not safe, but you knew that would end badly. She was too stubborn. She wouldn’t listen and she’d just get more mad at you.

Instead, here you were, watching her across the bar, making sure she stayed safe. Jed followed your eyes, catching on to your stare. “Are you going to spend the whole night babysitting her?”

“If it means she’s safe, then yes I will.” Not that it ensured anything. You could follow her home and he’d be waiting there for her. He could be anywhere.

“Look, Rachel’s tough. She’ll be okay. I promise, but if you want, I can walk her home for you.” You sighed, slightly relieved at that.

–

“Are you okay? You’ve been in the bathroom for a while.” You couldn’t help but ask Jed, not even two hours later. He looked pale and he was sweaty.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I ate or drank something funny, but I’ll be okay.” His hands were trembling. You were worried. “Jed, you should go home.”

“But what about-”

“It’s fine. I can look after her. Let’s get you a cab.” You walked him outside, letting him lean against you. You wanted to look after him too, now..but you knew that Rachel would be more vulnerable. Going home drunk with a stranger like she always did but what if she goes back with the wrong one?

“Call me and let me know you got home safe okay?” You hugged him and helped him into the car.

“I will.”

You turned away and walked into the bar. Luckily for you, Rachel was just about to leave. You followed her down the dark road, while she stumbled along with the stranger. Soon enough, she was only two blocks away from her house. Nothing had happened. There was no one suspicious, no strange hooded figures, nothing.

Maybe she was right. Maybe you are safe. Maybe he really is gone.

Suddenly, a hooded figure stalked behind them, and just as you could warn them, the man’s throat was slit. You sprinted over, and you were only halfway there when Rachel took off. He caught her easily, stepping on the back of her ankle and stabbing her in the back, before he faced her right in front of you, holding her back by the hair and running his blade across her throat, forcing you to watch as she choked on her blood and the life drained from her eyes.

Foolish, naive, little girl. You should’ve known.

[tomhiddleston]

One More Tomorrow (Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader) - Chapter I.

Summary: When a new guest checks in to The Halcyon, Billy looks for any excuse he can to get close to her.

Pairing: Billy Taylor x Fem!Reader (third person)

TW: pure unadulterated fluff, Billy being an idiot with a crush, some light swearing, this fic is basically a romantic comedy

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: I haven't written fic in ages so I hope you all enjoy my Billy Taylor brainrot!!! This is part one of a three-part miniseries I have planned... with potentially more to come if people want more? !!! Also, we're all gonna have to make peace with the fact that our nameless young lady has a surname, lol

Also, thanks to @valeskafics and @aegonx for reading this through for me!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any The Halcyon characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are always appreciated!

Art deco dividers by @saradika

Billy will always remember the first time he set foot in the lobby of The Halcyon. He’d come to work with his mum more than a handful of times over the years, especially when he was little. But, in those days, the only glimpse he got of what went on upstairs at the hotel was the silver serving trays that the waiters carried as they walked past his mum’s office. Seeing the lobby - the heart of the hotel - for the first time was like stepping into a different world. 

That was almost a year ago, now. Barely sixteen, with trembling fingers tugging at the high collar of his bellboy’s jacket. It was brand new and freshly pressed, so it had a stiffness to it that he wasn’t used to from the hand-me-downs that he usually got from his father. 

He followed Feldman up from the bowels of the hotel and through the door that had always been forbidden to him. What lay on the other side was something he could have only dreamt of. Towering columns carved from emerald green marble, glittering chandeliers, doorways trimmed with a rich, dark wood. The sweet smell of fresh flowers permeated the air. He wondered how it was possible for it to smell so strongly of flowers in a room so large. He reckoned his family’s entire house could fit inside the lobby four times over. 

The Halcyon was the most beautiful thing Billy had ever seen.

Until the day he sees her.

May 1939.

His morning starts as it usually does. Quick cup of tea in the hotel kitchen. Dodge a kiss on the cheek from mum. Check on the hotel generator. Head upstairs to begin bringing down the luggage of the guests who are checking out. 

The dreary, painfully normal morning eventually turns into a rainy May afternoon. Billy’s shoes eventually become so waterlogged from escorting guests inside with an umbrella that he can feel his socks squeak against the leather with every step. He’s whinging about it to one of the doormen when Mr. Garland comes parading through the lobby towards the front doors with Mr. Feldman in toe. And if The Halcyon’s general manager and head concierge are preparing to greet a guest, then they must be someone important.

“Come on, then, Billy!” Feldman calls to him. “Fetch the umbrellas.”

Billy deflates a little, knowing that there’s little hope of his shoes drying any time soon. Still, he’s dutiful as ever and meets the other men at the front door with the still-damp umbrellas tucked under his arm. 

“Is his Lordship back in town?” Billy asks Feldman curiously. 

“No, Billy,” Mr. Garland answers instead. “It’s a new guest and one that we’re eager to impress. Mr. Tobias Greene, of Greene Automotive.”

Billy’s face lights up. “Greene Automotive? Oh, they’ve got the fastest cars on the market. Their new Model F’s got an eight-cylinder engine. Three hundred twenty horse power! It’s got a top speed of two hundred kilometers… an hour…” His voice trails off as he sees the look on Mr. Garland’s face. “What’s he coming here for? Their factory’s all the way in Birmingham.” 

Mr. Garland peers outside, looking for the arrival of their new guest’s car. “Something about setting up a corporate office here in London, I think. But it’s best not to pry, Billy. You know that. And please, no gushing to Mr. Greene about his cars.”

Billy nods and Feldman laughs at the disappointed look on the boy’s face. 

Mr. Greene’s car arrives at a very punctual three o’clock on the dot and the men step outside into the pouring rain to greet their new guest. Feldman is the one to open Mr. Greene’s door. Out steps a tall, dark-haired man with a thick mustache and shrewd brown eyes. The handshake he offers to Mr. Garland is firm but friendly. Billy can’t help but be a bit starstruck. 

“Come along, my dear,” Mr. Greene calls into the open car door. “Don’t make your father wait in the rain.”

A corgi jumps out of the car and into a puddle on the sidewalk, splashing water up the front of Billy’s grey trousers. Great. He barely has time to groan about it before he looks up and sees her. Mr. Greene’s daughter steps out of the car with the dog’s leash in her hand. It’s lucky that Billy is standing close enough that she is covered by the umbrella he’s holding because he’s frozen solid at the sight of her.  

If he was starstruck seeing her father, then he’s completely bowled over by her. She’s dressed in a beautiful fur-lined coat and has her hair done up in those curls that all the ladies are doing these days. Not a single strand is out of place. She looks like she’s just stepped off the set of a new picture or out of the pages of one of those magazines his mum reads. 

Her eyes meet his and it’s like he’s been struck by lightning. He wonders for a moment if his heart’s stopped beating. He sees her lips move but doesn’t hear what she says. How could he, when he’s so transfixed on her beauty? Plenty of good-looking women have walked through the lobby of The Halcyon, but not a single one of them could ever compare to her. 

Billy comes crashing down to earth again as the sound of the car door closing breaks him out of his trance. He’s not supposed to talk to the guests. Greeting them is Mr. Garland’s job. But he can’t help but squeak out a nervous “Welcome, my lady.”

She smiles in response and he melts. 

“Thank you.” Her voice is warm and sweet. Prettier than any melody. The little chuckle that leaves her is even lovelier. “But I’m no lady.”

Billy stumbles over his words, knowing that he’s mucked it up. His eyes widen and both hands move to grip onto the handle of the umbrella. “Y-yes, miss.” 

They all make it barely halfway to the front doors of the Halcyon when she turns to the car with a gasp. “Oh… my gloves. I left them in the car…” Her tone is pensive, more like she’s making a mental note not to forget them later than anything. 

But Billy, desperate to please her, springs into action without so much as a word. He’s at the car door in three long strides, only realizing that he’s left her standing in the torrential rain, umbrella-less, when Feldman snaps his name from atop the hotel steps. When he turns back, her suede gloves in hand, he sees her huddling for cover beneath the umbrella that Feldman is holding for her father.

He can almost feel the daggers in both Feldman and Mr. Garland’s eyes pierce through him, but then he sees the smile that creeps onto her lips. She’s drenched, the fur on her coat matted against her shoulders and her perfect hairdo ruined. But she’s smiling. 

When her lips part in a laugh, Billy knows he’s done for. Even if it’s him she’s laughing at, for being such a bloody twit, she’s laughing and he gets to hear it. If it was the only sound he ever heard for the rest of his life, then he would die a happy man.

Mr. Greene is not as charmed by Billy’s foolishness as his daughter, raising an outstretched hand for him to hand over the gloves and let them get inside. Billy can’t look the man in the eye as he places her gloves in his hand, but he does manage a small, sideways glance at her and sees that she’s gone all pink in the face. Just like him, he reckons. 

The Greenes are put up in separate but adjoining rooms on the second floor. Billy watches as Mr. Garland ushers them up the marble staircase. Feldman gives him an earful for what happened outside, but all he can think about is being the one to bring her luggage to her room. To see her again, maybe even talk to her.

He very nearly pushes the other bellboys over as they begin to bring the Greenes’ luggage inside. Despite their obvious wealth, they’ve traveled lightly in comparison to many of the other guests the Halcyon receives. Billy counts her suitcases. Only four. He can manage four on his own, can’t he? 

Feldman pinches the bridge of his nose at the sight of Billy, two large suitcases tucked awkwardly under each arm, lumbering up the stairs and nearly taking out one of the guests along the way. 

When he makes it to the room that she’ll be staying in, he has to scoot sideways through the open door to even make it inside. He’s huffing and puffing from the exertion but manages not to drop the luggage. As he sets them down gently, he looks up and sees her. She’s removed her drenched coat and is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, toweling off strands of her wet hair. There’s a warm glow around her from the sconce on the wall that makes her seem almost luminescent. 

He should say something… or leave now that he’s brought her suitcases. But he just stands to his full height and tugs at the bottom of his bellboy’s jacket to straighten it out again. They are both staring at each other all the while, her with that same, pretty smile as before. 

But to her, the wide-eyed look on his face must make him seem like a startled owl. 

“Thank you,” she finally says, breaking the silence. “Billy… wasn’t it?” 

His name. She said his name. It’s the best his name’s ever sounded. 

Billy swallows hard, his throat painfully dry, and nods. 

“Thank you, Billy.”

He can’t leave yet. Not until he’s managed to say something to her. Not until he’s apologized for having left her to get rained on, at least. A million things he could say seem to run through his brain all at once. Everything he wants to say becomes jumbled in the chaos. The words seem to bloom and die on his tongue in an instant. 

What he eventually decides on is something to the effect of, “I’m sorry I left you in the rain, miss.”

But what actually comes out of his mouth?

“I’m sorry–”

He turns on his heel to run out of the room before she can formulate a reply of her own.

Billy remains on edge every second of every shift after their first interaction. He’s restless at his post by the front doors of the hotel, fingers tapping on the back of his hand so incessantly that Feldman eventually asks him if he’s unwell. He cobbles together an excuse, saying that he’s just eager for a smoke break. But Feldman can see the way he longingly watches the staircase, hoping and praying to see her again. 

He’s so intent at his post that he forgets more than once to take a guest’s hat or coat when they enter, leaving the doorman, Skinner, to awkwardly step in for him. He gets a proper slagging off from Feldman after he leaves one of the hotel’s most valued guests standing at the door waiting for their coat. 

But none of that matters whenever he sees her. She seems to glide down the staircase whenever she emerges from her room, never a hair or a thread out of place. The beauty of The Halcyon’s lobby pales in comparison to her. No, she somehow makes the room look even lovelier, like there is a light radiating off of her that makes everything in her vicinity more exquisite. 

If she’s walking to the hotel’s restaurant, he’s there to open the door for her. If she’s heading out of the front doors, he’s there with her coat and hat. Each time, he relishes in the sight of her cheeks flushing pink and her eyes getting that little twinkle in them that makes his heart flutter. Hearing the little “thank you” that she mutters each time only makes him fall harder.

“One look from a pretty bird and he’s become a total melt,” Tom, one of the hotel waiters and Billy’s closest work mate, teases him during the staff’s weekly game of poker. 

Feldman spurts out a scoff. “A melt? Boy’s lost his bloody mind, he has. Couldn’t even tell you which way’s up and which way’s down when he’s thinking about… her.” He leans in close to Billy, saying the last word in a sing-songy kind of tone.

Billy attempts to hide the redness in his face behind his cards.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, mate,” says Tom. “She’s an heiress and a guest. Best forget about her. Find a girl you might actually be worthy of.” He laughs it off as a joke, but Billy isn’t smiling. 

It hits a nerve, that remark. Billy knows he’s not the brightest. Never excelled in school. He only got his job here at The Halcyon because of his mum. He may only be sixteen, but he’s peered into his future once or twice and lamented about the fact that he might always be stuck working here until he’s old and gray like Skinner, still taking coats and hauling luggage up and down the stairs. There are few prospects for men like him beyond jobs like these. How could he ever be a suitable match for a girl like her?

Dejected, Billy folds his hand and rises from the apple crate he’s sitting on, not even bothering to collect the cigarettes he’s planned on using as his stake before he starts walking away with his head hung low.

“Oi, Billy!” Tom calls after him, abandoning his own hand to follow him. “Mate, I didn’t mean it. I was only teasing.”

“Doesn’t mean you ain’t right, Tom.”

Tom walks a little quicker to get in front of Billy and stop him in the long hallway between the stairs and the kitchen. “Okay, look.” He lowers his voice. “You wanna see her again? She takes her tea in her room at two o’clock every afternoon. Yeah?”

“Yeah?” Billy echoes, shrugging. “What, and ask Feldman if I can take a late lunch to have tea with her?”

“No, you dolt.” Tom sighs. “You could be the one to bring her her tea every day. You know, get in the door. Strike up a little conversation.” He nudges Billy’s arm. “Get in a cheeky kiss.”

Billy’s eyes widen. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it… what it’d be like to kiss her. He’s never kissed a girl before. If she could be his first… oh, the idea alone is enough to make him weak in the knees. 

“But it’s… not my job, Tom. Feldman–”

“Leave Feldman to me. I’ll sneak him one of those custard tarts he likes from the kitchens. He won’t be able to say no.”

Finally, a smile tugs at Billy’s lips.

“Look,” Tom continues. “I’m sorry about what I said. She’d be lucky to have you, Billy.” He begins to walk down the hall to rejoin the poker game, but has to tease Billy a little more. “Just promise to make me best man at your wedding, mate!”

The rattle of porcelain fills the hallway leading to room two-hundred four. Why Mr. Garland had to put Mr. Greene and his daughter in rooms at the end of the hall, Billy will never know. The usually short walk now seems like a marathon’s length as he fights to balance the delicate tray of fine china. He dropped a teacup not long after he started working at The Halcyon and still hears about it from the kitchen staff. If he dropped this tray, he would never survive it.

Billy has bitten down on his bottom lip in concentration, his usually long strides short and uneven. The clattering of the fine china only grows louder the closer he gets to her door, his hands trembling an unacceptable amount. He can carry the heaviest, most cumbersome luggage and now he can’t handle a simple tray of tea? He thanks God that no one else is in the hallway at the moment to see him struggling.

He comes face to face with her door and stares at it for a moment. He’s certain that she will be able to see his heart pounding against his chest from underneath his bellboy’s jacket. Standing there, he begins to work himself up into a frenzy. He doesn’t know if he can do it. Better to turn back now and let Tom deliver her tea as always.

It’s as though he hears Tom’s voice in his head.

Billy, you idiot. It’s just a door.

Yeah, a door with the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on the other side. He wonders how she’s spent her day so far. Brushing and styling that long, silky hair that he wishes he could run his fingers through. Reading books. Maybe Jane Austen or one of those other books that girls like. Curled up on the chaise with her little dog by her feet. It’s not the type of day that sounds appealing to him, but he’d sit by her side all the while if she wanted him to.

Billy snaps out of his daydream, realizing that he is still staring at the dark mahogany door with the gold two zero four on it. He swallows hard and decides to go for it. It’s quite the balancing act, getting one hand free to rap on the door without dropping the silver tray. He stands on one leg and lifts the other to prop it up on his thigh, quickly knocking twice on the door - but not before he sees a trickle of tea spill from underneath the teapot lid and onto the pristine tray. 

“Oh, bugger.” 

He only just manages to regain control over the tea tray when the lock clicks and the door swings open. It’s clear that she was expecting to see Tom by the look on her face - first, a flash of confusion, and then, a little smile and a blush. She’s rouged her lips today, making them look even fuller than usual. It complements the navy blue silk blouse she’s wearing and somehow makes her face seem even more aglow. Then he’s hit with the warm, flowery smell of her perfume and he lets it fill his lungs. Whatever it is, it suits her. 

Say something, Billy. Bloody hell.

He glances down at the tray and back up at her, seeing that she hasn’t taken her eyes off of him. He swallows again, trying to regain even a semblance of composure. He’s trying to come up with a reason as to why he, a bellboy, is there delivering her tea and not Tom or one of the other waiters, but she speaks first.

“Tom’s busy today?” 

Oh, that voice of hers. He could melt. 

But instead, he offers a little “Mmhmm.”

That’s a better explanation than he would have probably come up with, anyway. 

“Come in. Please.”

She turns to walk with him to the sitting room where she takes her tea by the window and he follows her like a lost puppy, tea tray rattling all the way there. He manages to spill more of the liquid onto the tray on the way there and curses internally. He sucks in his lips in concentration, but the tray still comes clattering to the table. One of the cucumber finger sandwiches tumbles into the puddle of tea below and the clotted cream slides out of its bowl.

“Oh… sorry, miss,” Billy mutters, knowing he’s ruined the presentation of the tray and, likely, spilled half of the tea that she was meant to drink. That’s the second time he’s apologized to her in the span of a few days for doing something stupid. Feldman would wring his neck.

Any other wealthy, well-to-do guest would have snapped at him, cursed at him, called him clumsy and stupid. But she smiles up at him, her eyes glittering more than all The Halcyon’s chandeliers combined. It’s only now that Billy notices just how close they are. Almost as close as couples get when they dance. His mind wanders again, wondering if she enjoys dancing. 

“It’s alright, Billy.” Her voice brings her back into the moment. Heaven above… she remembers his name. She plucks the finger sandwich out of the spilled tea it’s sitting in and tries a small bite, offering him a little smile. “I think it tastes better this way.”

He’s staring at her like a deer in the headlights again, but he somehow manages to nod and smile. “Oh. G… good.” 

Her own grin widens and she leans down to pour herself a cuppa. He knows he should go, but he’s somehow glued to the spot. He watches her every movement, from the way her hand delicately grasps the teapot handle to the way her brow furrows in concentration as she adds milk to her cup.

“You don’t talk much, do you, Billy?” 

“Erm…” He straightens the front of his jacket nervously, feeling the heat in his cheeks. A breathy laugh leaves him. “I dunno.”

His mum would be in stitches if she were here right now. He’s been chewed out more than a few times for talking her ear off when she’s busy cooking or cleaning. You’re going to drive me mad one of these days, Billy, she’d say. To see him completely clammed up around this girl would throw her for a loop.

“I understand. My dad’s not a big talker, either. So I talk to Clara.” She turns to where her corgi is asleep in her plush bed by the fire and smiles. “She’s a good listener.” 

“Yeah…” He follows her gaze, grateful that the little dog isn’t awake to bark at him. “Bet she is.”

“Do you have any pets, Billy?”

He blinks a few times. She wants to know something about him? The blush in his cheeks only deepens.

“Uhm, no… mum’s allergic.”

A look of sympathy flashes across her face. “Oh. That’s bad luck. Well, you’re welcome to say hello to Clara and pet her if you want. She’s such a sweet girl. She loves people.”

Billy glances at the dog again. She isn’t the one he’d like to spend time with. “Yeah. Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” she asks hopefully. His heart jumps.

“Oh, I just– you know. If… Tom’s busy again.” 

Her smile warms him. “I’m sure he’s always busy. Not that you aren’t, too,” she laughs. “I just mean that… you’re welcome to bring my tea again… if you want.”

Billy is stunned into silence again, and right after he’s finally managed to string together more than two words at once. They mirror one another, both wringing their hands together nervously. The air between them feels heavy with unspoken words, but theirs isn’t an uncomfortable silence.  

“Of course, miss,” Billy finally manages. He watches her take a sip from the glistening white teacup and delights in the little hum of pleasure that leaves her.

“If you have work to do, then… I won’t keep you, Billy.” She speaks almost hesitantly, like she’d rather be asking him to stay. “I’d hate for you to get in trouble because of me…”  

She’s right. He has a lot to do before his work day ends and Feldman wouldn’t take too kindly to him neglecting his duties. But he’d give anything to stay here with her.  

“Yeah, I’d better… go.” He sounds unsure, something she clearly notices judging by the way she smiles. 

“Thank you for bringing me my tea, Billy. See you later?” The enthusiastic way in which she asks her question makes it sound like they’re friends who are set to meet up again tomorrow… or maybe that she sees him as, potentially, something more. 

No, he has to tell himself. She doesn’t mean it like that. Not at all. She can’t. Not him, the bellboy. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get his hopes up.

“See you later, miss.”

His eyes flit to her lips briefly, hoping she hasn’t noticed before he hurries out of the room and nearly slams the door behind him. He all but floats down the hotel staircase, wearing a stupidly wide grin on his face. 

At the end of his shift, he’s downstairs by the staff lockers being grilled by Tom about everything that happened that afternoon. Billy can barely give any specifics about the interaction itself because he keeps devolving into thoughts of the way her hair curled at the base of her neck and how delicate her fingers looked as she poured herself tea. At some point, Tom decides he’s a lost cause and leaves him to his daydreaming.

Feldman wanders in to collect his things and sees Billy leaning against the lockers there, clutching his bellboy’s hat to his chest. As far as he’s concerned, the sooner this girl checks out of the hotel, the better. It’ll sort him out and get him back to functioning properly.

“I think I’m in love with her,” Billy says over his shoulder with a dreamy sort of look in his eyes.

“You haven’t said ten words to her, Billy.” 

“I have too!” But he starts hurriedly counting on his fingers… just to be sure. 

“Saying ‘yes, miss’ and ‘no, miss’ a handful of times each doesn’t count, lad.”

Billy blushes. “Well, I—” 

Feldman’s laugh only makes his face redder. “I reckon you’ll want to keep bringing her tea so you can stare at her some more, eh?”

“W-well, Tom said he’ll be too busy again and—”

“Yeah, busy having a smoke break.”

Billy can find no clever reply or excuse, so he just looks down at the bellboy’s cap that he has been idly turning over and over again in his hands.

“Look, Billy. If I’m gonna keep allowing you to slip away for tea time with this girl when you should be helping me check in guests, then you have to swear to me that you’ll man up–” Feldman hits him square in the middle of the chest with the back of his hand. “–and hold at least one bloody conversation with her before she and her father leave on Sunday. Yes?” 

“Yes, sir.”

Feldman takes him by the shoulders and gives him a little jostle. Someone’s got to shake some sense into this boy. “Yes?”

“Oi…” Billy furrows his brow and recoils. “Yes. Feldman, I will. Promise.” 

The rest of the Greenes’ stay at The Halcyon passes far too quickly for Billy’s liking. He does manage to hold true to his promise to Feldman and strikes up a conversation with her about her dog on the final day he brings her tea. Of course, Feldman never said that it had to be a long conversation. Billy found himself clamming up again in the end, but he still left her room feeling like he’d accomplished an insurmountable feat. 

He’s back to his uncharacteristically quiet demeanor today, though. Part of it is his own sadness that she will be leaving the hotel today and part of it is that her father has been flitting between their two rooms all morning. Something tells him that Mr. Greene wouldn’t be too pleased about a bellboy staring a little too long at his daughter. 

As the last trolley of luggage is wheeled out by another one of the bellboys, Billy waits for her to finish putting a leash on her dog. He glances around the room, now empty of her personal effects, and feels his heart sink. The room already seems less lovely in the absence of her. 

“That’s the last of your luggage… miss.” He knows he sounds too dejected when she looks at him with a little crease between her eyebrows.

“Thank you, Billy.” Her voice is as soft and as sweet as ever, but he’s far too heartbroken at the thought of her checking out of the hotel and probably never returning to enjoy it. She’ll forget all about him when she returns to her father’s estate and her fancy parties and her rich, handsome suitors. He’s feeling so sorry for himself that the purpose of her next request is lost on him.

“Billy, would you… help me with Clara? These shoes are brand new, and… I would hate to slip on the stairs if she decides to pull on the lead…” 

He’s seen her go up and down the stairs with the little dog plenty of times. Why should she need his help now? But he acquiesces and holds a hand out to take the lead from her.

“Course, miss.”

They leave her room together in silence. He notices that she keeps attempting to catch his gaze, even offering a couple of crooked smiles, but he’s walking under a raincloud the entire way through the lobby. 

“You know, Billy,” she finally says in her usual chipper tone. “I was thinking… my seventeenth birthday’s this fall. Maybe I can see if my father will let me have my party here. Do many people celebrate birthdays at The Halcyon?”

Billy completely misses her question after he hears the words “this fall” and “have my party here.” Fall isn’t that far away if he really thinks about it. He doesn’t care when or how, only that she’s already thought about returning to the hotel. She wants to come back.  

“Wh– you mean it?” 

He catches her beautiful, red-lipped smile and feels his heart flutter again. 

“Of course I do. I’ve enjoyed staying here and–” She blushes. “–getting to meet you.” When he stares at her, too taken aback to reply, she chuckles and continues. “You’ll still be here in November… won’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” Billy breathes. “Long as Feldman doesn’t sack me or nothing.”

She laughs again and takes Clara’s lead from him. “Then… I’ll see you again soon.”

“See you…”

Billy’s voice trails off and he takes a step back from her as her father approaches with Mr. Garland in toe. Mr. Greene places a short kiss on the top of his daughter’s head before the two of them step out into the gray Sunday morning. Billy cranes his neck to catch one last glimpse of her as she climbs into the car after her dog, catching a smile from her before the door closes. 

November can’t come soon enough.

[queermentaldisaster]

“The Hunt Is My Muse”

Finally chapter eight! I'm so sorry this took so long to come out, life and ADHD is honestly what happened. I hope you enjoy!

No cws for this chapter. Chapter under the cut.

“Small Revelations and Friends Coming”

Everything had gone to shit. They'd gotten Alejandro and Los Vaqueros out, and they'd almost made it out…but now they were surrounded. Ghost held his gun, standing back to back with Soap, which sent shivers down Soap's spine. ‘We’re this close…this close…and surely about to die.’ Soap thought. Ghost let out a growl, and Soap felt the rumbles from that growl go through both their bodies. He shuddered, and Ghost’s hand found its way to his waist. He let out a shaky breath, and was ready to accept death as it came when suddenly the nearby wall shattered.

Soap’s head snapped up and he spotted a wild water buffalo standing in the wreckage of the wall. He cackled, spotting a leopard next to the buffalo. “Ghost!” He exclaimed, turning the man around. Ghost saw them and chuckled. Alejandro looked confused. “Who are those two?” He asked, causing Soap to grin. “Gaz and Roach, which means the Cap’n ain’t far behind.” He looked at Ghost and nodded, with that same cocky ass grin he always had. Ghost shifted, willingly, pouncing on one of the distracted Shadows. Soap cackled, shifting as well.

Alejandro just chuckled and yelled something in Spanish as the shifted duo began ravaging the Shadows. Soap’s ears twitched as he heard two separate roars, one of which was Ghost, a rage filled sound, and one of which was Roach, a call to his friends. Soap let out a loud ‘wow wow wow’ sound, even as the carnage continued, letting Roach know he was okay.

It took maybe twenty minutes to dispose of all of the Shadows between the four of them. After Soap shifted back, he was immediately tackled by Gaz and Roach. He laughed, hugging them back. “Woah, ye tryin’ ta kill me?” He joked, and Gaz huffed. “Yeah, I’m gonna fuckin’ trample you, fox boy. What the fuck were you thinking!?” He shook Soap, and Roach carefully pried Gaz off of Soap, who fell back, landing in Ghost’s arms. Ghost chuckled, lifting Soap to his feet and wrapping his arms around Soap’s waist.

Soap felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he just knew Ghost was smirking underneath his mask. Roach stared at Soap and let out a breath. “I feel like I missed something.” He signed. Ghost’s grip tightened on Soap’s waist. “Oh, not much.” Ghost said, tilting his head to the side.

Soap let out a breath, only to look up when he heard Price's voice ring out from amidst the wreckage. “Boys!?” Price called out, and Ghost let out a roar just as Soap let out another ‘wow wow wow’ sound. Soap pulled out of Ghost's arms and ran towards the silhouette of Price in the distance. Soap ran into Price’s arms, earning a sharp exhale from the older shifter. Price held Soap close, his grip around the younger shifter tight. “So glad you're safe.” He murmured, and Soap smirked. “So ye did miss me?” He let out a yelp as Price lightly slapped him upside the back of his head.

Ghost's head snapped around and Soap heard the growl. Soap looked back at Ghost and shook his head. Ghost immediately calmed down, his shoulders relaxing. Price arched an eyebrow. “I feel like I missed a few chapters.” He remarked. Soap chuckled. “Just a few, cap’n.” Ghost came forward and nodded to Price. “Good to see you, Captain.”

Price smiled. “Good to see you too, Ghost. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Price turned around and led them to a set of vehicles. Alejandro, Rodolfo, and the rest of the Vaqueros got in one of them, and the 141 got in the other. Roach turned to Ghost as they sat down, Gaz sitting in the driver’s seat. Roach began signing. “You’re a shifter? Why did you never tell us?” He questioned, and Ghost shrugged. “It wasn’t important.”

Roach’s eyes widened. “Not important?! Ghost, how long have you been suppressing your shifts? Do you know the consequences that can come from that?!” He signed hastily and Ghost snarled. “Roach, it can’t be that bad, so shut your mouth and-” Ghost cut himself off, quickly standing up and moving over to the seat where Soap was. They didn’t get a chance to question it before Ghost shifted, leaving this massive black panther curled up in Soap’s lap.

Roach sighed. “This is what I’m talking about. Now you and your panther are trying to reconnect, meaning you’re going to just randomly shift and be stuck like that for a while,” Roach signed, rolling his eyes. “Fucking idiot.” That made Ghost snarl, but Soap lightly tugged on his ear. Ghost chuffed, dropping his head on the seat. Soap chuckled. “Big ass kitten.” He murmured, and Ghost let out a rumbling growl, rubbing the side of his face against Soap’s face. Soap groaned, because apparently his subscription to breathing has temporarily expired. Price laughed, grinning at this.

Soap teasingly flipped him off, grinning back, even though the grin wasn't seen through the Lieutenant currently suffocating him. Ghost lowered his head again, stretching out with a content purr. Soap smiled, rubbing behind his Lt’s ears.

The ride back to the safehouse was quiet, and Soap reveled in the peace, for unbeknownst to him, it was soon to be ruined.

[writerofadream]

Fairytale Ending? ⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader ⛓

Chapter Two: Trent's jealous of his girlfriend's crush.

You stared at the food on your plate. Slowly you pushed it in front of you. Dunan gave you a disapproving glare. “Eat.” He ordered pushing the plate right back at you. “I’m not hungry,” You grumbled. “You are eating for two, honey, eat.” Leshawna sat down next to you.

A faint blush appeared on your cheeks causing Duncan to sport a goofy grin.

“Fine.” You whispered and slowly began putting the food into your mouth. “Good girl.” Duncan whispered in your ear causing you to turn about fifty shades of red. “Get a room, ya nasties.” Leshawna rolled her eyes.

Chris walked in. “Welcome to day two of Total, Drama, Action.” He yelled dramatically. 

It had been a few months since you had been on Total Drama Island, and looking at the man still made you feel nauseous. Duncan squeezed your thigh, and sighed.

“You gonna do that everytime, asshole?” He questioned. “Yep.” Chris smiled wide, and annoyingly. “Alright then.” Duncan rolled his eyes causing a small giggle to leave your mouth.

“Today’s movie genre… aliens!”

Chris smirked once he saw your eyes light up. “Our unpaid interns-” You felt Duncan tense, next to you and you put your head on his shoulder, trying to convey comfort. Slowly he relaxed. “You got three basic rules-” Chef began his ramble.

“Today’s challenge- find an alien egg.” Chris held up a map.

“Sorry losers, ain’t no one knows alien movies more than I do.” Duncan crossed his arms looking at the people around him. Gwen rolled her eyes and pointed at you, who was now looking at him with a look of utter disbelief.

“Wanna bet, tiger?” You smirked.

“Off with the head, off with them all.” He recited, clearly challenging you. “Deck of Aliens, we watched it three years ago.” You responded. “See to it that we kill all the humans.” You recited raising an eyebrow. “Last two alive, we saw it when we were eight.” Duncan scoffed.

“What if the aliens kill us, what if they try to mate with us- UGH.” Duncan said quickly. “Honey, I brought the kids to the Apocalypse. You made me watch that after the OBGYN said she had never seen it.” You cross your arms.

“We’re gonna crush those aliens, and have them for breakfast.” You smirk as a look of realization dawns on his face, he didn’t remember the name. “Alien Chunks!” Gwen yelled out. “I love that movie.” She laughs.

“I’ve seen it twenty seven times.” she explains. Duncan has to scoff at that. “I saw fifty-seven.” He says, and you laugh. “A hundred and thirty four times.” you smile as you watch Gwen’s face drop.

“You’ll both be tough to beat. But I’ll still beat your asses.”

“You sound like my father.” Duncan laughed as he watched you spit out your drink, and turn to look at him, exasperated.

—-

You watched, sadly as Duncan cartwheeled into your arms. You gave him a hug. “I can’t wait till she comes out so we can teach her gymnastics. Oh, I’m so excited she’ll look like you but be troubled like me-” a soft smile appeared on your face as you watched your husband excitedly rant, albeit quietly.

Movement was something you valued. You adored gliding on the trapeze, walking on your hands, and doing a variety of stunts. But now that you are pregnant, every movement hurts. Walking made your hips sore, laying down made your neck hurt, sitting made your legs hurt.

Luckily for you, you had a husband that liked nothing more than to touch his wife.

Currently, you were walking through a big metal building that you were confident was filled with gasses that were not safe for the child inside you.

Duncan had grabbed you and strung you over his back like a backpack. Not that you were complaining, your feet HURT.

There was this weird slurping sound that was driving you to the brink of madness though. You looked up expecting to see Beth smacking some sort of food in her brace-filled mouth. “Shh.” Gwen grumbled clearly annoyed. Owen promptly farted.

“If my baby dies of gas inhalation I swear I will beat your ass.” You hissed at Owen who blushed. “If the baby dies because of one of them can I kill them?” Izzy asked with a large smile. “Yes.” Duncan answered for you.

The slurping continued and you mimed putting a gun to your head.

“What is that?” Trent finally grumbled. You all looked at Beth who turned red and apologized. “Ever since I got my braces off  I don’t make that sound anymore.” She explained trying to justify herself. “I hear that sound anytime she talks.” Duncan muttered under his breath causing you to softly giggle.

“It must be, Chef.” You whispered as the idea popped into your mind. 

“So you want to run, or kick some alien ass?” Duncan asked as he tilted his face, exposing his neck which you promptly lined with kisses. “Kick ass.” You murmured and high-fived with Gwen who was staring at you with heart eyes. “..AHEM-” Trent coughed into his palm causing Gwen to whir around.

“I mean, Trent, do you have any ideas?”

“Let’s kick some alien butt!” Trent quickly recovered. “After you.” Gwen pointed at the wall in front of the group. “I’m pregnant, I have a reason to not want to die, also I’m pretty sure Duncan will kill me if I die, so after you sweetheart.” You pinched Trent’s cheek as you tried to hop off Duncan’s back, but he quickly made you jump back on.

Beth quickly stalked up. “I did not go through eight years of braces-” her rant was cut off as she found out what the noise was. You all waited anticipating her response.

“... it’s just Bridgette and Geoff.” she grumbled and you all looked over the wall to see the two blondes making out. “Do you ever get tired of sucking his face?” You asked Bridgette who promptly flipped you off. 

“Cute.” You smiled cheekily walking past her.

Duncan quickly caught up, and threw you over his shoulder with ease. You sighed propping yourself up on your back as Leshawna waved, laughing at you. 

“That boy ain’t gonna let you do nothing while you're pregnant.” She pointed out. You rolled your eyes, turning red. Suddenly the GPS that Chris gave you all began beeping, signaling that Chef was close. “Danger.” Yours said. “Danger.” 

Danger

Danger

Danger

Danger

You walked into your home, your stomach making a small growl. You felt embarrassed, your kitchen was bare of any food. You checked anyways, you opened up the fridge and were unsurprised at the lack of anything in there.

You made a mental note to steal an apple from Duncan’s house sooner rather than later.

You closed the fridge door and saw your father waiting there with a wild smile on his face. You were surprised for two reasons.

Your father was there, and clearly trying to talk to you

Your father was smiling

He scooped you up in a hug and you felt your stomach clench. “Oh I love my wonderful daughter.” He reeked of alcohol. Suddenly one of his hands clasped the back of your neck, sending an adrenaline filled tingle down your spine.

That was the place they tasered you at military camp.

Never again, Duncan had told you, he’d never let it happen again.

Your instincts went into overdrive, and you grabbed his hand, specifically his pointer-finger and twisted it backwards, making him drop you. Then you pinned him to the wall. Your mind was screaming danger, over and over. 

You didn’t see your father, you saw General Eyses, you saw Leo, you saw all of your tormentors.

Duncan felt you tense, and had gently set you down in seconds flat, and wrapped his arm around you to keep you from lashing out. “Onward.” He grunted as he felt you struggle against his strength. Gwen shrugged before following him.

“Stay back here love-birds.” You yelled at Geoff and Bridgette.

It was an exhausting day. Simply because it was extremely boring. You couldn’t find the nest of alien eggs and you felt tiredness coming upon you. Duncan watched you warily as you took a misstep and fell straight-

Into his arms.

Your eyes were flickering open and closed. Duncan sighed, clearly very worried and pulled you into his arms, carrying you bridal style. “Is she doing alright?” Gwen questioned. “She’s always been exhausted. But when you're pregnant and anorexic, that doesn’t help.” He explained quietly.

“Oh.” Trent muttered.

Finally you all had made it to the boiler room, and saw the vomit-colored eggs beneath you. “Woah, they look so real.” Trent said aloud. “Woo hoo! We won.” DJ yelled quickly waking you up. You gave Duncan a look “Why didn’t you wake me up.” you grumbled forcing him to let go of you. 

“Because I like holding you.” He muttered causing a light blush to come on your cheeks.

“We still have to get the eggs back to home base.” Duncan explained to your team. As the room emitted some steam causing goosebumps to appear on your biceps and along your forearms.

Suddenly a beep was heard from Gwen’s GPS signaling that Chef was tracking them.

You grumbled staring at the ceiling for a moment. “If I go into early labor because of this I will sew your **** to your head and call you a limp **** for the rest of your ******* life.” You yelled at the camera.

Your fellow teammates looked at you mildly concerned.

Then you promptly flipped down into where the eggs were, landing with ease that no one else could’ve accomplished. You quickly began throwing eggs up to your friends and Duncan helped pull you back up. 

Chef appeared from a doorway and shot DJ in mere seconds.

Duncan had to drag a waving you away from him. “Bye Chef!” You yelled as you were dragged outside. But you saw Chris in a helicopter above you.

“The military has come to your rescue m’lady. Sadly I can’t let you leave with the alien eggs. I’d think about changing my mind for a kiss.” 

Duncan growled before he laughed as he watched you flip the helicopter off. “Kiss my ass.” You yelled up towards him.

“That can be arranged.” The maniac smiled before dropping a bomb on you. “DUCK.” Duncan yelled as he covered your body with his, just as the bomb exploded with green goo. 

—

“Does this mean we’re out?” You heaved, standing back up. “I think so, princess.” Duncan sighed, putting an arm around your shoulder. “I’m disappointed. I wanted a million.” You sighed, putting a head on his shoulder.

“I think we’ll be fine without it. We’re only here because Chris said he’d report that we’d violated our parole, remember?” Duncan pointed out, causing you to grumble. “Trust me. I remember.”

Then you began the trek back to ‘home base’, following Chris. Duncan was holding you close, and every few minutes put kisses on your head as if he was trying to assure himself you were still there. As you reached home base, you sat on the bleachers as Chef walked out holding the gilded Chris’s.

“Don’t we have forty of those at home?” Duncan pointed out. You sighed, and nodded. Leshawna gave you a strange glance. “He sends me one, twice a month.” You explained. “You should get a restraining order.” Leshawna advised.

Duncan gave her a confused look. “What’s a restraining order?”  You both said in unison. 

Leshawna blinked a few times, clearly very concerned. Chris threw you a gilded Chris, then he threw Duncan one. “Do you know what a restraining order is?” You asked Beth who sat next to you. “It’s when a person you don’t like isn’t allowed to be near you or else they go to jail.”

Duncan slowly made eye contact with you.

“You're telling me… this whole time we could’ve just got a restraining order against our parents?” He whispered. “Apparently.” You whispered in reply, very shocked.

“All that trauma… for nothing.” He shook his head in disbelief, as you nodded in agreement. “Did you really not know that was a thing?” Beth asked, with a raised eyebrow. You nodded. She sighed, shaking her head.

—

|Trending on X right now|

#bethisatiredmom

#’allthatrauma..fornothing’samehere

#duncanisagreatdad

#gwenxy/n

#trentxfuckinggrass

—

tagged:

@lostsomewhereinthegarden

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Nineteen.

I'm so sorry I missed an update last week, guys. Friday was a busy one for me! Hope you enjoy it, and happy Friday to you all :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,351

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

The normalcy of being home; it was something she craved above all when her life and career took her far away from it, Jade standing softly singing to herself as she stirred a pot of sauce upon the stove, her dogs milling around, Salem in his usual place upon the rug. Their other cat, Juno, wasn’t present, the big, pale grey Mane Coon exactly where she always was whenever they were home; welded to Adrien’s side.  

It was very fair to say she was daddy’s girl.  

They had four days left with one another before he would fly out to Rome to begin shooting his next project, the film entitled Third Person, the locations switching between the Italian capital, Paris and New York for twelve weeks, Adrien’s stint filming in Italy taking up nine of those. She would be leaving just before he came home, off to LA to work on a film she’d very much been looking forward to, a biopic about musical legend Gregg Allman, in which she would be playing a woman – who became an even bigger legend than he, if you asked her – he'd been married to for three years back in the seventies.  

Yes. She was playing Cher. And god, she was so excited. She’d nearly pee’d with elation when the lady herself had called her up and congratulated her, the women enjoying a long conversation about the upcoming role. ‘Just make sure you play me right, kid’, the icon had told Jade, who had walked around her house in a daze afterwards, only able to mutter ‘I just spoke to Cher on the phone, and she’s bloody lovely!’ on repeat for the following hour, giggling too.  

She giggled to herself all over again at the memory, wobbling a little, the fact that she’d only eaten half a bagel and a salad that day playing havoc with the fact she was on her second large glass of wine. Looking up, she saw the back door open, her paint flecked husband coming in, a very contented Juno riding his shoulder.  

“There’s my baby love,” he cooed, “cooking things that smell entirely too good. What are we having?” 

“Baked Ziti.” Ahhh, yes. Marry a girl from Italian roots and damn, the food she’ll cook for you. “And a fuckload of salad. I can’t have more than a few mouthfuls. I need to keep small to play Cher. Her body in the seventies was something else!”  

“I think you can spare a little more than that, Burtie,” he spoke, wrapping his arms around her, Juno jumping down to the floor neatly. “Really, you’re like a pin with great tits as it is.”  

“Pin with great tits and a six pack!” she shouted playfully, yanking up her t shirt. Any chance she got to flash her abs, she took it, Adrien bending to blow a raspberry against her stomach.  

“Sexy as hell, honey.” Giving her a big kiss, he reached for the open wine bottle, pouring himself a glass before jumping to sit on the counter, a nearby Brando rising up on his hind legs to place his paws on his knees, chew toy proffered forth. “So, gimme the rundown. You’re in LA from April seventeenth to May twenty first, and then what?”  

Giving the sauce another gentle stirring, she then put the hob on beneath the large pot of water to take care of the pasta. “Then we’re flying straight to the UK to headline the Friday at Download festival, then onto Germany to do another open air, then spending a week out there before moving onto the festival in France, then Spain, meaning I’ll arrive back on the July fifteenth with three days to spare before big pony gets here!” 

Oh, how excited she was for the arrival of her horse, everything ready for Mia when she got there, Jade having spent an eye watering amount of money on all the associated paraphernalia horses needed, including many thousands on a horse truck to actually bring her back from the airport in. She was worried about her having to be flown over, scared of her becoming panicked, being on the plane, but calmed a little for knowing she would be given a mild sedative prior to her flight, plus the fact that Wolfgang, the groom from the riding school would be flying with her.  

“And then it all calms down for a while,” he spoke, letting Brando win their tug o’ war game, the dog shaking his rope and trotting off to chew it over the other side of the kitchen. “It’s gonna be so damned strange, spending almost three months at home before I’m back working.”  

They had a few commitments between late June and mid-September, a few public appearances, invited to the Malaysian Grand Prix, a few charity events in New York, LA and London, a movie premiere for the last film Jade had shot and two for Adrien, but mostly they would get to enjoy a slower pace for once. It was virtually unheard of, for a couple who worked as hard as they did, both very much looking forward to an extended period of being able to spend some quality time together. 

“What’s this here?” he then asked, leaning over to reach for a handful of printed sheets of paper. 

“Oh! I meant to show you that and then I had wine!” 

Snorting a laugh, he looked at what he held, turning the pages as he tried to make sense of it. “It’s a teeny house of some sort?” 

“It’s a hen house, complete with roost. I’m making it myself since I couldn’t find anything I liked the look of online,” she spoke, sipping her wine and slotting herself between his thighs, Adrien wrapping his legs around her. “Stop laughing.” 

“I’m not.” That was negated somewhat by the shaking shoulders as he at least attempted to keep it in. “Burtie, we both know you and assembly don’t go hand in hand. You can’t even do flatpack.” 

She was aghast. “I bloody can!” 

Oh, the little bubble of delusion his beloved liked to live within. “The shelves in the bathroom?” 

“I got them done!” There was a pause. “Eventually.” 

“The bed at your place in the city? Granted, that was before my time, but Jen told me that you called her having a meltdown when you couldn’t get it assembled.” 

“It was difficult holding things together while lining the screws up!”  

“And you think joinery is gonna be any easier? With the nails and the sanding and the measuring?”  

She tightened her lips, trying not to laugh as he raised one eyebrow significantly higher than the other. “Will you let me help you before I go away?” 

“I can manage fine, Bug.” 

He hummed, resting his chin atop her head. “I’m not convinced at all. I don’t want to come home to a wife whose missing bits of herself, and the idea of you using a saw unassisted is scary as hell.”  

“How dare you cast such aspersions upon my DIY skills!” she gasped comically, flicking the papers in his hands with her finger a couple of times. “I’m working to plans! I measured, I even plotted out ground space, too!”  

Looking at them again, he concentrated, pointing at the measurements at the top of the page. “The roof will overhang the actual structure by four feet.” He couldn’t help but laugh at the sour face he was greeted with. “Stop scowling because you’re wrong. I’m helping you.”  

She finally smiled, realising that he was right and yes, she could likely do with a little assistance with her project. “Thank you." Kissing him, she went back to the pot upon the hob, picking up her phone and ordering all the timber needed from the nearest lumber yard, choosing the express option that would have the items delivered by noon the following day.  

When noon arrived, what began with good intentions after the delivery had been dropped off soon became a lesson in why couples, even those who rarely fought beyond stupid bickering, should never, ever attempt a joint DIY project.  

“No, that’s a side panel. It isn’t a floor piece.” He took a breath, at least attempting not to let his temper be further prickled.  

“It isn’t. The floor pieces are flat, the side panels are ridged. I haven’t nailed the last one together yet.” 

“Well, why the fuck not? It needs the last side panel putting on before the floor!” 

“Because as I just fucking said, I haven’t nailed it together yet!” 

“Then why not do that first instead of doing the floor?” 

“Because then I’ve got a space to easily get in and out of it to put the floor pieces in, haven’t I? If I don’t, then I’ve got to crawl through the pissing tiny little hen door, and I’m about four feet too fucking tall for that, Adrien!”  

“Or, and how about this for a revelation, since the roof isn’t on yet, just turn it upside down and nail the floor into the frame that way, so the nails then go up into the side pieces too and give it more support! Fucking hell!” 

Her jaw tightened staring at her husband, pointing the claw hammer she held towards him. “Knock the sarcasm off. You’re being a prick for the sake of it.”  

“And you’re being your usual, insufferable self who can’t get things done logically.” 

“Oh, alright, fucks sake!” she yelled, dropping the hammer with a thud. “So I didn’t think to upend it to nail the flooring on. True to form, you just have to be an all-knowing arsehole about it, don’t you?” 

He snorted, shaking his head. “And you wanted to do this by yourself. You’d have ended up with something like Homer Simpson had when he was making the doghouse.” He couldn’t help but laugh, realising how stupid their argument had become, looking up fondly. “I’m sorry.”  

“Fuck off.”  

“Come on, Jade. I said I’m sorry. Help me turn this over and we’ll get the floor nailed on.” While he was all for moving on with things speedily, Jade was a stewer, and stew on it she did, looking at him from under a furrowed brow. “Ow! Jesus fuck, Jade!” 

“What now?” she shouted, wishing for nothing more than a packet of matches, so she could set fire to her very bad idea. Why did she have to be so fussy? Why couldn’t a pre-assembled hen house have been good enough? 

“You just dropped it on my hand!”  

“Shit, are you alright?”  

“No.” She went to approach him, Adrien pointing. “Uh-uh. Bad to be near me right now. Very bad.” 

While he stormed off in the direction of the house, grasping his hand, she stood and took a deep breath. Big things they never truly argued about, somehow they seemed to have a very efficient synergy for dealing with larger problems they faced, but little things? Oh, they blew up. Both acting like stubborn idiots mostly.  

Knowing he needed time to cool down, she nailed the floor pieces on herself, then assembled the side panel, carefully turning the roost over to affix it. The roof frame was placed on, long nails hammered in to secure it to the main frame, only the roof panels left before it had to be affixed to the base frame, lifting it up high. She was about to begin nailing said panels on when a familiar scent drifted under her nose, Jade turning to see Adrien over to the side of the house, sitting on the outdoor couch on the patio. 

“Wow, I drove you to weed, hmm?” 

He side eyed her, picking up the bottle of beer he’d also brought out with him. “I think I might have driven myself to it, too.” That time, when he laughed softly, softness was returned, his wife moving to sit at his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing it.  

“How’s your hand?”  

He sniffed, holding it up. It was marked with a bright red line and a few grazes. “Had to yank out a few splinters. Nothing that being a little stoned won’t fix.” 

“Or you’ll fall asleep,” she shrugged, moving to lie her head on his lap, taking the joint when he passed it to her. 

“There’s a fifty percent chance of that,” he winked, making her snort softly.  

“Oh, not so mad that I won’t get the brunt of the horny sex demon, then?” she chuckled, blowing smoke down her nose.  

He leaned to her, kissing her forehead. “No, but I will fuck you angrily, Moo.”  

Any lingering tension melted away as she boomed a laugh, taking another drag, feeling the strong weed beginning to work. Her giggles only intensified, moving to lie with her head on his lap. 

“Look at you, fucking weed lightweight,” he spoke. Neither were particular hardened to it, though, smoking it as infrequently as they did. “What’s funny?” 

“The fact that we...” She sent him into a snorting mess, watching her hiss with laughter. “The fact that we can weather the hugest of storms in our life without so much as a crossed word, but building a hen house is what tips us into all the yelling and the rage!”  

“And then we get stoned and laugh about how completely ridiculous we are. Works for me,” he spoke, supressing a cough, taking another drag and handing it back to her, beginning to bounce his thigh beneath her head. 

“No, stop. You’ll give me motion sickness.”  

Why that was so hilarious, he had no idea, but it took him a good three minutes to stop laughing. Looking down, he continued to snicker, seeing Jade prodding her tongue against the zipper of his cargo pants. “You’ll wake him up.” 

“Maybe I want to.” Moving her hand, she pressed against his crotch, feeling a swell of semi-erectness there already. “Mmm, already awake, so I feel.” Moving astride him, her fingers glided through his hair giving it a little tug as she tickled his lips with her tongue, kissing him with slow, syrupy heat. “If you'll excuse me, I think I need to kiss you right here.” she purred, grasping his rapidly thickening cock with a soft moan, tongue flickering against the stubble upon his throat.  

“Eventually,” he grunted, mouth moving to her neck, pulling her black vest top up. “After I’ve sucked your tits.”  

Who was she to deny a man who hungered for her nipples? Pulling off her top while he flicked her bra undone, she gasped at the contact, the bud of her nipple bathed in a warm, wet hug, his big hands kneading softly as she rocked against him. Pressing herself against his cock had little shocks tingling within her, a soft mewl leaving her pretty lips when her other nipple was closed upon with a bite, his hands moving to smooth up and down her back.  

“Get these off," he instructed, tugging her cut offs, Jade backing off him to do just that, sliding them and her little red thong off, yanked back into his arms, his fingers pushing into her folds as he resumed the suck around her nipple. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.”  

The warm honey of her cunt saturated his fingers as he embedded them in her, a shallow push to begin with, nudging her sweet spot, gliding them in further with a sumptuous rotation that had her clenching around them, his mouth finding hers as they panted and moaned into urgent, feverish kisses.  

With his free hand, he undid his pants, Jade assisting by yanking them down his thighs for him to somewhat awkwardly wriggle out of and kick off, pulling his t shirt off. Moving his hand, he then impaled her on his hardness fully, teeth sharp at her neck, her cry filling the air. “Not that I don’t love being stretched wide around it, but this isn’t getting your cock sucked, is it?”  

He rumbled a chuckle, kissing her again. “Tell you what, I’ll make you come first, then blow my load right down your throat. How about that?”  

“Mmm,” she purred, “can’t wait for you to make me choke on it.” Their mouths crashed together, the rocking of his hips against her sending darts of pleasure as he hit her clit every time, her grinding down on him sending further streaks of bliss that ignited the embers flickering to full burn.  

"Oh god, fuck, oh!" she cried, feeling him shift forward, grasping her legs. She moved them, crossing them behind him, the move allowing her to sink down further upon him, his cock hitting her deep as their bodies rocked together ferally. Each press of him right up against her summit had neon bursts radiating within her, crying out as she clasped herself around him, sucking his tongue, staring into the sunlit, moss green of his eyes. "Fuck, I love you." 

Those words never failed to make his heart thunder harder, conveying the same in how he kissed her, standing to carry her to the back door, her body pressed against the glass, pinned there by his chest as he moved his hands, gripping her thighs and holding her spread, beginning to fuck up into her with savage need. 

The heavy pressure of his cock was a sharp-edged pleasure, her body banging against the glass she was pressed into, the raw, primal need of it suffusing down to her marrow. Oh, when the horny sexy demon in him came out to play, how he brought the fire with him. The warm wet of her clamped around him strongly, each thrust pounded into her harder to fight the tension gripping onto his cock, his groans all earth and salt as he buried his mouth against her neck.  

The continued deep, rapid spearing of his cock into her had the pleasure pooling golden, her thighs tightening upon his waist, hips rolling against him as she cried out like a wounded animal, the lightning arcing through her, the release pulsating up her spine. With his own fluttering at the base of his cock, he pulled from her, carrying her back to the couch, hands entwining in her hair as she took him in her mouth and let him fuck the plush of her squeezing lips, until with a gritted groan he filled her throat with cum.  

What began as a day of construction and petty yelling ended in a naked evening, neither bothering to dress, lying together on the couch outside drinking beers and relaxing under the warm, spring sun. A state of relax was how they spent their last two days together, Jade kissing him goodbye at the airport, dashing home again feeling a little sad for him leaving for nine weeks. It didn’t matter how used to it she was, she loved being near her husband.  

Having the house to herself was nice, though, continuing her daily workouts in order to remain ripped enough to easily pass off as a nineteen seventies Cher, with how lean her body was back then, the project ever drawing nearer. The week before she was due to depart, she had a house guest come to stay in the form of Katie, a little lonely herself since Charlotte was on tour with Crimson Shrines, the death metal side project band she played in.  

“Bro, this is so ready for chickens!” the lady herself spoke, she and Jade standing back to admire the project they’d teamed together to complete. The latter was going to complete it with her husband, but wanted to spend some time of greater quality with him in his remaining days before he’d left.  

“It is, my friend. It is. Shame there won’t be any in it for a couple of months, unless Adrien decides to buy some while I’m gone,” she mused, opening the gate as they headed back towards the house. “Oh! I almost forgot to say, I have a package coming at any time, but I have to take Atlas and Bear to the vets for their jabs. Can you be around to hear the bell instead of outside?” 

“Sure can, baby. I was planning on playing cook tonight anyways,” she spoke, Jade spinning to grasp her arms. 

“Please tell me you’re making your chicken teriyaki burgers!” Anyone who’d ever eaten one of Katie’s famous creations would understand the urgency. They were beyond delicious. 

“Can confirm, I am making my chicken teriyaki burgers. Where’s your charcoal at, gonna barbecue ‘em, they always taste better that way. And don’t make that face! I texted Adrien to ask if I could use it and he said yes, just to keep you well away from it!” 

Jade pouted, remembering the incident that had almost led to their very expensive, Big Green Egg barbecue overheating, Jade lighting it but not opening the vent. Her husband had gone berserk and banned her from going anywhere near it in the wake of almost trashing it. “Fine. I’ll make salad.” 

Wrapping her arm around her shoulders, Katie kissed her cheek. “That’s a good lil’ woman.” A hard slap greeted her backside for that comment, laughing and bending over. “Ooooh, gimme another! You spank way harder than Charlotte!” 

“Get in the damned house, you bloody menace!”  

While Katie began her dinner prep, Jade got her two biggest dogs into the harnesses, kissing her friend goodbye and picking up her keys and bag. Opening the rear of her Jeep, the hounds jumped in, Jade affixing them in safely and shutting the door, throwing her bag onto the passenger seat. She loved living somewhere where she could do that and not worry about anybody smashing her window to steal it.  

Selecting an album to listen to, she placed her cell phone into the cup holder and reversed out, driving around to the front of the house and down the long drive, noticing how full all the trees lining it were beginning to look. The new ones she’d planted a year before were budding nicely, too, still supported by long bamboo canes to assist in their fledgling stages.  

Slowing her car, she pressed the fob to open the electric gates, looking back in the rear view at the trees again. She wondered where she’d be in life when they’d finally reached a significant height, driving through the gateway slowly, about to pull out of her drive when she heard something hit the back of her car.  

“Is that one of you fat headed buggers?” she muttered, turning to look at her dogs, see which one of them had decided to bang their face against the window. Neither had, both growling at the source of the noise as the baseball bat was swung again, chaotic barking following as the window cracked, Serena swinging it again and this time shattering the glass completely. 

“Get out here or I’ll fucking kill your dogs, Jade! Get out of this car now!”  

Her mouth dropped open, her limbs already feeling light and tingly, her stomach plummeting like she’d swallowed a led weight. Now was not the time to wonder how on earth her stalker had escaped a treatment facility, Jade grabbing her phone and calling nine one one, asking for the police and giving her address, trembling as she did. She was advised by the operator to stay in the car, but as Serena continued, she knew that wasn’t possible, the rear windscreen beginning to crack.  

There was no way she was risking the safety of her dogs, big and ferocious as they were, even a mastiff would be lucky to survive a crack to the skull with a baseball bat. With adrenaline coursing through her, she cut the engine, jumping from the car and storming to the rear of the vehicle.  

“You fucking dare threaten my bloody dogs, you fucking psychopath!” she bellowed, that famous roar she was known for gravelling her voice. “You want some? Come fucking get it.” Striding for her, Jade remembered her fight training from one of the last movies she’d done, having to accurately portray a hard as nails mercenary. She wasn’t a fighter in reality, not at all, but when presented with the animals she thought of as her babies coming under attack, the protector came out.  

Serena screamed in all-out rage, swinging the bat, Jade ducking, her leg shooting out to round kick her in the thigh. The move knocked her aggressor off balance, the bat grabbed, the women wrestling one another for supremacy, Jade towing her near enough to throw her forehead straight into her nose, the bone breaking with a sickening crack, wrenching the bat from her grasp and hurling it as far away as she could throw.  

A melee followed, Jade punched in the eye, reaching for Serena’s hair and slamming her head off the back of the Jeep, the dogs still barking furiously within. “Stay away from me, you sick fuck!” she roared, smashing her head against the taillight again, Serena suddenly lurching forward. 

“Fuck you, fuck you!”  

She felt it hit her side, something sharp and cold, again and again, the pain like cold fire burning as with both hands, she made one last valiant effort, hurling Serena’s head so hard into the Jeep, blood exploded over the paintwork, finally going limp as Jade threw her to the ground. Looking at her side, the horror of her damage was evident, her grey t shirt and blue jeans becoming soaked in blood, sirens wailing in the distance as she fell to the ground.  

Her dogs barking. 

A copper taste filling her mouth as she wheezed. 

A tall, handsome police officer calling for immediate backup and an ambulance on his radio, his voice telling her to stay with him as he applied pressure to her wounds. 

A puddle of blood pouring from her side.  

Her eyes fluttered, heavy, coldness dragging at her, luring, beckoning.  

Black.  

Lights in her eyes, people shouting stats at one another, motion, another bright light. Sirens wailing. “Thirty-four-year-old female, multiple stab wounds...”  

Black.  

Light, bright light.  

Pain. 

Shouting. 

Nothing. 

Black.