#this second chapter i had to split into two because it would be so long?

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 14 (Part 1)

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

1000 Follower Celebration Post

Summary: Cassian opens up to Y/N about his mother, Y/N giving him a second chance. When the duo returned to Velaris a confrontation ensues that leads to flashbacks to the Spring.

Content Warning: mentions of death, conversations alluding to SA, Oral Sex, M receiving, Mor not keeping her hands to herself on more than one occasion.

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken longer than anticipated. I had to split this chapter into two parts strictly because it was getting extremely long! I hope you enjoy this part. Part 2 will be up quickly!

Word Count: 5.2K

Chapter 13 1000 Celebration Masterlist UP Masterlist

Reader POV

I opened and closed my mouth as Cassian knelt beside me leaning in and pressing his large hand to the Portrait. “Your mother?”

Cassian nodded, “We never knew where the Illyrian’s who killed her buried her…If they buried her. When I expressed to Az and Rhys that I wanted to build a home here, a place I could go to clear my head, I told them I wanted a place for her. So, she could be with me.”

A gust of wind whipped my skin raw causing a shiver to run down my spine, Cassian instinctively wrapped his wing around me to block the cold. “Why bring me here?”

Cassian’s gaze met mine, his hazel eyes full of guilt. “You know why.” I look down focusing on my hands. He gripped my chin and forced me to meet his eyes, glistening in the moonlight. “Princess, I have tried giving you all the gifts that money can buy. I have tried writing you a letter. Nothing seemed to get your attention.” I went to speak but he interrupted me, “I realized why. You’re scared. You trusted me with some of your deepest fears and I took advantage of that. I brought you here as my last attempt. If want to walk away after tonight. I won’t bother you anymore. But I figured there is one last gift I can give you.”

My heartbeat skyrocketed, “What’s that?”

Cassian grabbed my hand and pressed it to his chest where I could feel his heartbeat. “My heart, Princess. Let me be open with you. Let me give you mine, the way you gave me yours.”

Silence fell between us as snow began to trickle down, I kept opening and closing my mouth unsure what to say. I looked back at the image of his mother. “Tell me about her, Cass.”

“She was my favorite person in the whole world.” Cassian began and I inched closer to him, I told myself it was to use his body heat. I was a fucking liar. Cassian curled his wing tightly around me, “She taught me how to braid hair as I told you before. She was kind, she always put others before herself. All the village kids loved to be around her, she would make sure everyone was fed and had enough to drink. Everyone loved her.” His hazel eyes met mine, “You remind me of her.”

I blushed and looked back at the portrait and instinctively my hand reached out to his as he sniffled. He laced his hand through mine, cool bite of the leather around his hand biting into my skin. “So where was your father?” You looked back to the Illyrian, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“I don’t know. He abandoned my mom when she was pregnant with me.” I squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture, “I have no idea who he is. At this point I have no interest in knowing. Any male who leaves a pregnant female alone, is not worth knowing.” We were silent for a moment, “I’m proud of where I come from. I’m proud of my heritage as an Illyrian. What I’m not proud of though is our ancient traditions. My mother had a bastard born child. The Illyrians are traditional and believe a woman should have a child within marriage.” I could feel the pit in my stomach growing, “She always wanted what was best and protected me. So, she made me flee. Where I had to fend for myself. Find my own shelter, my own food. Until one winter evening, Rhysand found me. The bastard made me come home with him, and his mom insisted I eat and get some rest. We have been together ever since.”

“What happened, to your mother? I know you said she died but…” I whispered; Cassian’s face morphed into sadness as he swiped the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princess. I like that you display your emotions so openly.” He places his hand down from my face. “After the blood rite, I returned to my old village. She was nowhere to be seen. I searched for her in every place I could think of. I knew in my heart, she was dead.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t go to swipe them, “I wished I would have been able to tell her I loved her. I wish I could have told her so many things, Sweetheart.” He released my hand and placed his palms over her eyes, “I just wanted her to be proud of me.”

Not being able to contain myself I turned to face him fully and straddled his lap, gripping his wrist I pulled his hands away from his face. His eyes met mine I pressed my forehead to his, “Cassian, your mother would be so proud of you.”

The general shook my hands off and gripped my waist, “Not this past week and a half she wouldn’t. He closed his, “Baby, I’m-“

I cupped his face and pressed his lips to mine. He whimpered as he kissed me back, pulling me closer to him. We broke away and he swiped a strand of hair from my face, “I forgive you.”

“Really?” He whispered.

I cupped his face and he leaned into my touch, “We have a lot to discuss. Cassian, I don’t want to be hurt again.”

“I will make this up to you for as long as I live.”

“This was a good start.” Cassian began stroking my back.  “You did give me the best gift tonight.”

“What’s that?”

I pressed my hand on his chest. “Your heart.”

“My heart has been yours to take.”  He buries his face in my neck and inhaling deeply. We stayed like that for a few moments, the cold not bothering us as we simply hold each other. He lifted his head, gripped the back of his neck, “Listen to me, you are amazing, beautiful, and strong. I have never once thought of you as weak. I am so sorry for what I said. But you must know, you’re it for me. I want no one else, so I’m keeping you, so long as you’ll let me.”

I smiled, “Does this mean I get to keep you too?”

“You never lost me, Sweetheart.” He brushes his nose over mine, I do have a confession.” My face must have looked panicked because he laughed. “It’s nothing bad, I swear. When Mor had brought Feyre back from the Spring Court, I told you I was heading to Windhaven for a week. I didn’t go to Windhaven. I came here.”

I tilted my head, “Why lie about that? Seems a bit…”

“Ridiculous?” I nodded, “I didn’t want you to know that I was coming here to tell my mother about you. How I met this amazing human woman, who was kind and gentle, yet not afraid to put even a High Lord in his place. How she walks in a room and my day instantly improves. She smiles and it feels like my heart is going to combust.” I wasn’t sure I was breathing anymore.  “I just wanted to share that with her.”

A shiver trails down my spine and adjusting his grip under my thighs he hoists us up as he stands holding me as though I weigh nothing, “Come on I still have one more surprise for you.” He walked us toward the cabin, and I peeked over his shoulder looking back at the memorial. A butterfly in a climate too cold landed on the frame of the portrait. Before I could acknowledge the little creature, Cassian opened the door and set me down.

I turned and I pressed my hand to my chest, the dining and living room were right where you entered the cabin, the kitchen to the right. Everything was bright and warm, though the dining room table with wildflowers and candles at the center and two plates with silverware. One plate I assumed was mine had a leather-bound journal. “Cassian, I have so many journals.”

“That one isn’t empty though.” I furrowed my brow and looked at him. “Go read it, I’ll grab our dinner.”

“Who did all the set up?”

“Azriel, he left right before we arrived.” I walked over to where the journal was and sat down as Cassian took both of our plates to fill. I opened the journal and found the book complete full. Flipping to the first page my breath hitched.

My Dear Princess,

Nothing pained me more than sitting in this chair unable to move and watch you walk away. Knowing that my anger was the thing that caused it. To see the tears in your eyes and to know that I was the one that put the sadness in your eyes has sat with me for hours now. So, I went into the village and bought this journal. I figured writing to you is the next best thing I have right now. Since I know, you won’t talk to me for a while. Gods you’ve only been gone an hour and I miss you so much.

I flip through the pages; some are fresh letters pages long. “Cassian.”

“Three days left with my thoughts. I figured I would share them all with you.” Tears welled up in my eyes. As Cassian set the plate down the aromas of potatoes and seared meat caused my stomach to rumble. “Hey, look at me.” I met his warm hazel eyes as his callous fingers kissed the nape of my neck. “I never want you to feel the way you did with Nesta, or Xavier. I want to be better. Because you deserve better.” He tapped the journal, “Read these, whenever you need a reminder, that you’re worthy of the affection you receive, or that you need to take care of yourself, or we happen to be apart, and I can’t be there to comfort you when you need it. I am no poet or author, but with you I have always been good at sharing my feelings, you made it easier to open up. This is my last gift for you…tonight that is.”

I leapt out of my chair and into his arms, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m glad the universe led me to you, Cassie.”

His hand cradled the back of my head, as he kissed the top of it. “So am I.” He held me tightly before pushing me away, “Shall we eat?”

I nodded and both of us sat down and began to eat, we spent all evening talking about what we had been up to since I left. His hand had a permanent spot on my thigh, he would gently rub his thumb along my thigh, and I would smile. Once dinner was done, I offered to do the dishes of which he politely told me no. Then brought out a slice of my favorite cake for us to share. When it was done I yawned.

“Want to go to bed? I had the guest bedroom prepped for you.” I blinked at him.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to assume we were sharing a bed tonight. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My mind went to Xavier and how if he were in this position, I would have had no choice of where I slept. I shivered, “Cassian, I want to stay with you tonight. Just sleeping.”

Cassian nodded. “Just sleeping.” He led me to his master room which was quite large and handed me a shirt to change into. “We’ll go back home in the morning.”

I yawned once more, “Okay.” I looked around, “Bathroom?”

He pointed to the door next to the one we entered. I smiled, reached up and kissed his cheek and headed to the other room to change. When I emerged, I pressed my back to the wall. Cassian’s shirt was off tattoos on full display. I bit my lip as I watched his muscles flex underneath the moonlight. I would have asked Feyre to paint this and call it, the General getting ready for bed. “Princess are you ok-ohh” Cassian stumbled as he turned and faced me, “Gods you’re beautiful.” My heart fluttered as his eyes raked down my body and my bare legs. One thing I knew was his eyes met mine once more.

I needed him.

Be Brave, Archeron.

I sunk to my knees. The general’s chest stopped moving, “Princess, what are you doing?” His voice was low and husky.

I began to crawl toward him, “I missed you, General.” He swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbed.  I stopped when I reached his feet. My hand sliding up his thick muscular thighs.  “I want to make you feel good.” I placed kisses along his pants his thighs twitch under my touch and when I reached the center of his thighs. His erection was pressing against his pants, and I licked over his clothed cock maintaining eye contact as his hand slides through my hair as he moaned.

“Princess, we don’t have to,” his eyes held seriousness, and something warmed my heart at his words.

“Cassian, I want to. Now take off your pants.”

The Illyrian didn’t argue as he pulled down his pants. I gripped his thighs as his cock springing free. He looked down at me as his pupils consumed the hazel in his eyes, barely visible. Sticking my tongue out I swiped up his shaft. “Fuck,” He groaned leaning his head back.

I paused my mind looming back to the conversation that we had regarding safe words, “We won’t need it…I don’t think, but Ruby. He met my gaze once more, “My safe word is Ruby.”

Cassian bent down kissing me, “Use it, everything stops immediately. If you can’t use that pretty little mouth of yours.”  He kissed my lips, once more. “One tap on my thigh tells me your getting close to your limit.” Another kiss, “Two taps and we’re done. Okay and I need you to be honest, Sweetheart. You need to tell me.”

“I promise,” I whispered and crashed his lips to mine.

He pulled away. “Good,” He was about to say something but that fell away as I closed my mouth at his tip, taking his length slowly. He moaned as he lightly tugged on my hair, “You really are trouble. We said just sleeping.”

I hummed in approval, taking him deeper my nails digging into his thighs as I flicked my eyes up to him. Pulling away to the tip I swiped my tongue over his slit. “Princess.” His nickname on his tongue caused my toes to curl.

Putting him out of his misery I began bobbing my head, his hand guiding me. He sunk deeper into my throat. “Sweetheart. I’m not going to last very long.” I picked up my paced, “Will you touch yourself for me, sweet girl.” I instinctively slid my hand down and massaged my clit, moaning as against him. 

Cassian began thrusting, his pace sporadic and the sensation began to feel too much as I slipped my fingers into my folds. I tapped his thigh once. He slowed his pace slightly, “You, okay? Tap once if you are.”

I tapped him once. “Good Girl,” the praise shot straight to my core. He groaned, his grip on my hair tightened. “Fuck.”

I moaned continuously as I chased my own high when Cassian held my head in place as he found his release, “That’s it baby take it all.” His cum shot to the back of my throat and I drank it, greedily. “Now, come for me, Princess.” Sliding out of my mouth a trail of spit connecting my mouth to his cock, as my stomach tightened close to an orgasm, “You look so pretty, touching yourself, Cassian moved behind me and pulled my hand away.  I whined as he huskily said, “Allow me.” And his mouth was on my clit and his fingers sliding into my core.

“Cassian,” I moaned out as his fingers began to curl hitting that sweet spot, making stars appear in my vision. Cassian’s tongue was relentless on my swollen bud, but it was only when he pulled away to lightly blow on the sensitive bundle of nerves that I came all over his fingers.

The general kept moving his fingers helping me ride out my orgasm. He slowly withdrew his fingers, and I felt empty. Cassian walked over to wipe his hand on his old shirt. He walked to the bathroom while I stood. When he walked back out there was a rag in his hand pants back over his hips, “Get on the bed for me will you?” I did , and Cassian gently moved my thigh.

“Cassian, I can’t take any more.” I whimpered and met his eyes. His hazel hue irises held pain in them.

“Princess, I’m cleaning you up, I’m not...” He couldn’t find the words. He sighed. “I would never force you to give more than what you are willing to offer. I just want to take care of you make you feel clean before I hold your gorgeous body to mine tonight.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “Fuck.” I covered my face, “No one has ever done that before.”

Cassian rubbed my exposed thigh soothingly, “Get used to it, Sweetheart. Me taking care of you after is a non-negotiable for me.” calloused fingers pull my hands from my face, so I must look in his gorgeous face, “Never expect to be treated any less than the princess you are.” He wiped the tears from my face.  “Especially when you’re in my care.”

“Cass-“

“Shhh, sweet girl.  I have you.” I nodded as he wipes the warm rag through my center cleaning me as tears silently fell from my face. Once Cassian was done, he tossed the rag, “Scoot.” He smiled as I moved to the opposite side of the bed. The general slid into the bed, and his arm snaked around my waist pulling me close. He pressed his forehead to mine and his thumb swiped against my hip bone. “Tell me what’s on your mind.” He whispered.

My eyes fluttered closed, “I missed being in your arms.” I yawned once more, “You make me feel safe.”

“I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” Cassian whispered, exhaustion coating his own voice.

“Please don’t.” And in a matter of moments sleep overpowered me.

We walked into the town home together, hands clasped, smiles bright, the next evening and reached the dining room where the atmosphere shifted to something dark. “What’s going on?” Cassian queried.

No one answered his question. Looking over to Azriel his shadows were almost completely hidden his posture straight, Mor taking a sip of her wine next to him, her finger grazing his arm in languid strokes. Her hand slowly moving his hand around the nape of his neck twirling with his curls. Cassian led me to the two empty seats across from the blonde and the spymaster. Azriel’s face looked pain as Rhys spoke. “Glad to see you two made up.”

Cassian said something that I drowned out my gaze focusing on the two fae in front of me. I recognized the look on his face. It’s one that I had expressed too many times myself. Her touch was unwanted, unwelcome. I took a steadying breath trying to keep the rage I felt from spilling over. Azriel was kind and gentle and had always been kind. He won’t tell her to get off for those exact reasons. Memories washed over me at the sight of Mor, touching him.

I wished he would stop touching me. Xavier’s hand gripped my thigh, hiking my skirt. My orders were simple, sit and look pretty. What made that challenging is Xavier trying to expose me to everyone in Graysen’s armies as he did so. His mouth connected to my neck, and I closed my eyes and started to count. Something I had grown accustomed to when he would put me on display this way. Counting the seconds for his hands that were once loving, now grown cruel were off my body.

Voices bring me back to the present and my eyes locked with Azriel. Pain is there and Its as though I can see him counting himself until she got his hands off him. I took another breath.

Be Brave, Archeron. He needs you.

“Mind taking your hand off the Shadow Singer, Mor.” I quipped, and everyone froze the conversation long forgotten.

Mor quirked a brow, “Excuse me?”

“He’s uncomfortable with you touching him. Fix it.” I said with no room for argument in my tone.

“Or what?” Mor sneered gripping Azriel’s neck tighter. His face grimaced at her touch.

I grabbed the knife, grasping it by the tip I tossed it without thinking twice, the blade slicing her skin causing her to move her arm, just before it found purchase against the wall behind her. “Or next time I won’t miss. Read the room when someone is fucking uncomfortable with your hands on them. Azriel does not belong to you.” I snarled baring my teeth.

Mor rose to her feet, “Rhysand, Am I needed for you debriefing the love birds?”

“Go.” Rhysand said his voice even, but his eyes were distant as if he too was having haunting memories of a time when his body was not his to control. His eyes met mine, “We’ll talk about that stunt later.”

A cheshire grin appeared on my face, “Happily.” I looked at Azriel who was watching me in stunned silence. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.” I said maintaining eye contact with Az.

His shadows swarmed over him covering his face. I understood their need to protect their master and looked back at Rhys. Not ignoring the bump to my knee from Cassian as he kept his leg touching mine, a silent reminder here was there. “We go to the Hewn City in a week’s time.”

“Shit,” Cassian muttered.

I looked to my general and back at Rhysand, “What’s the Hewn City?”

Amren, who had been abnormally quiet this whole time, spoke, “A vile city where the Night Court Underbelly resides. Also lovingly referred to as Mor’s home.”

Rhys snorted at that sentiment, “Her father had thought He would be next in line. He was sorely disappointed to find out that wasn’t the case.”

“Why do we have to go there?” I asked.

Rhys looked at Cassian. “To get the Veritas Orb.”

Cassian groaned, “Shit. So, the meeting didn’t go well.”

As Rhys and Cassian started a discussion, I finally took a look at my sister. “Fey?” Her eyes met mine, her hues of blue swirled with emotion. “What happened?”

“We ran into Lucien on our way home.” I stilled. “He wanted me to come hom- to the Spring Court.” Her face paled and I gripped her hand. “Rhysand intervened at some point, but it caused me to write a letter to Tamlin.”

“Oh?”

Feyre smiled, “I told him I was never coming back and sent that over this morning.”

I smiled and squeezed her hand, “I’m proud of you.”

Feyre smiled, “Me too. Lucien was relieved to hear you were alive though. I never told you this when I got here. He was crushed when he learned about what happened. Light came back into his eyes when he found out that wasn’t the case.”

My smile faltered slightly. “I’m sure.”

Sitting in front of the fireplace on the chill spring evening I watched the wood kindle the fire, the wood popping every so often.

“You are a hard person to find.” My head snapped to the doorway to find Lucien leaning against the door frame. He was in a white tunic and tight hunting pants. He had pulled his hair up into a Bun to keep out of his face. The firelight danced across his dark tan skin but highlighted the scar over his left eye.

“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to be found?” I glanced back at the fire. His boots clicked against the tile indicating he was coming toward me. He opted to take the seat next to me leaning to the cart and pouring himself a glass of amber liquid. I glanced over to him to see him pouring a second one and holding it out for me. “You have been noticeably absent too.” I whispered taking the glass.

“I’m sorry, Sunshine.” Lucien pressed his lips in a tight line. “I have been busy.”

“Well aware.” I murmured while sipping my drink. Lucien and I were not fast friends by any means. The nickname he called me once grated on my nerves, which was his reason for doing it. Though as Tamlin and Feyre’s relationship grew into something more, our rivalry suddenly ceased, and a friendship bloomed in its place.

Our favorite pass time being making fun at Tamlin’s horrible attempts at courting Feyre. The four of us walking through the warm spring sun, the flowers in full bloom Lucien’s arms looped in mine as we watched on as Tamlin stumbled over talking with Feyre. Lucien in turn would dramatically reenact, making me burst into laughter causing the High Lord and my sister to turn and glare. We hadn’t been able to walk together on the grounds since our return from Under the Mountain. Lucien particularly made himself scarce around Ianthe and I longed for him to take me to avoid her insufferable presence.

Lucien’s voice was quiet as he spoke once more. “Tamlin told me, I couldn’t take you. I wanted to.”

“Lucien, you don’t have to explain.” I let the burn of the alcohol coat my throat. We sat for a moment; the sound of the fire whirring was the only sound in the sitting room. “I noticed.” I could feel Lucien’s attention toward me, but I continued to look at the fire. “The way you tense when she walks into a room,” He stilled knowing who I talked about without ever having to use her name. “If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lucien clipped finishing his drink and pouring himself another.

“Well, if you just want to sit and brood about it…we can do that together too.” I sighed downing the rest of my drink. “Survivors have to stick together, right?” I looked at the red-haired male.

Lucien slowly met my stare, his russet eyes filled with sorrow. “Sunshine...”

Then the words began to pour out of my mouth before I could stop them. “His name was Xavier…”

“He is the only good thing in the Spring Court.” I said straightening back in my chair.

“Barely, he never stands up to Tamlin.” Feyre murmured.

“Feyre, you don’t understand,” I countered picking at my food, Cassian pressing his leg deeper to mine. Reassurance.

“Understand what?”

I glanced back at her, “How hard it is to regain your voice, when someone has stolen it from you.”

Feyre’s throat bobbed, “You managed.”

I placed my fork on the table and stood from my seat, ignoring the two pairs of Hazel eyes and one violet set, staring at me with concern. “Did I?” I walked away.

Walking toward my room, a delicate hand gripped my arm and slammed me into the wall. Nails dug into my cheeks squishing them tightly together. I blinked and brown eyes and silky blonde hair came into my vision. “I’m going to make this clear.” Mor’s voice was cold and distant as I gripped her wrist trying to pull her off me. “I’m not fond of being made a fool” I tried to move she pressed her body against mine to keep me in place. Her eyes raked my face, and she tucked a loose stand of hair behind my ear. “I mean it would be a shame if something happened to poor sweet Feyre, as a result of your reckless actions.” I sobbed, clawing at her wrist and Mor cooed, “Oh, not so tough now are you. You’re such a fragile little thing.” She leaned in her sweet perfume filling my nostrils, “If I wanted to, I could-

“What’s going on here?” Amren’s voice rang through the hall causing Mor to freeze. “I would suggest letting her go, girl. Before her general finds you.” Amren crossed her arms causing her silver shirt that matched her eyes to rise to reveal a small band of skin. “Now, Morrigan. I don’t enjoy repeating myself.” Her voice was lethal, at this moment, I understood why she was Rhys’ second in command.

Mor released my face, not before she broke skin in some places. Glaring at me, “Stay in line, Human. You’re a lot more fragile than the rest of us.”

“That’s Enough, Mor.” My chest tightened to the sound of Cassian’s voice. Mor immediately took two steps back. “You need to go to the Hewn City. Rhys’ orders.” Cassian came into view, his wings tucked in tight, his siphons ablaze.

“Rhys can give them to me himself.” Mor pouted crossing her arms like a child.

Amren rolled her silver swirled eyes, “Go to the Hewn City. Maybe going to spend some time with your father will do you good.” Mor’s straightened but not before shooting me one more glare. She left not before bumping into Cassian’s shoulder.

Amren’s silver eyes gleamed at me, assessing, a smirk on her red painted lips “You are a fierce one, girl. You are not afraid to put someone in their place and you’re quickly becoming my favorite human I have come in contact with.” Her face fell slightly, “But tread carefully with Mor. She is not an enemy you wish to have; you’ll learn why when you meet who sired her.” She nodded her head toward me a silent goodbye and left Cassian and I alone in the hallway.

Cassian was on me the instant the short female made it down the stairs. He assessed my face for injuries, and his nostrils flared at the scratch on my face, “Stop.” I whispered.

His response came quickly. “No.”

“Cassian, I’m-“

“Don’t you dare say your fine when you’re trembling like a leaf.” I looked down to see my hands violently shaking. His hands covered mine to his steady fingers forcing mine to still.  “I’m right here, Princess.” He whispered.

“She threatened to hurt Feyre because of me.” I met his hazel eyes.

His expression darkened, “We should tell Rhys.”

I shook my head, “Can we wait? Maybe this was a one-time thing.”

Cassian sighed kissing both of my knuckles wrapped in his warm grasp. “I don’t like it. If it happens again, we tell Rhys. Got it?”

I nodded my head and Cassian released my hands to carry me in his arms. “Come on. We’re going to bed.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and allowed him to carry me to his room.  The scent of Leather and Sandalwood comforting me, so my eyes drooped closed. Cassian murmuring something I couldn’t decipher as I fell asleep.

To Be Continued...

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655 @azrielsmate3 @nebarious @tele86 @chelsiemp @fightmedraco @fullmoon-94 @thehighlordishere @jenniferpendragon @ray4hotchner @phoenix666stuff @misskennygirl @whitewolfsbitch @highladyivy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @packsvlog @heyyhelloohii @parabatai-winchester @julesofvolterra @lilah-asteria @lyanna133 @mp-littlebit @nickishadow139 @milswrites @eve175 @blackgirlmagicforever

#cassian x reader #acotar fanfiction #cassian acotar #acotar #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #archeron sister #feyre archeron #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #cassian smut

[brightnote]

Chapters: 2/6 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Melinda May, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Elizabeth | Maria Hill's Mother, Original Characters, Iron Man Armor Summary:

chapter two summary: Tony Stark and Maria Hill arrive at an undisclosed location where they are separated. Tony is treated for his injury, Maria seeks information.  (violence descriptions!) 

#this second chapter i had to split into two because it would be so long? #i am obsessed with writing these #maria hill's time to shine #maria hill #tony stark #hydra #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #a03 #ao3 #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #iron man #the avengers #aos #agents of shield #fan fiction #maria hill fanfic #tony stark fanfiction #maria hill fanfiction #it's more fun to leave the summaries kind of vague!

[januaryembrs]

WAS I FOOLIN MYSELF | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [5]

Description: The THREE times you can't have him no matter how much you want to

Length. 15.2k

warnings: angst, spencer's addiction mentioned, gory cm cases (medical trauma, removing limbs, human marionettes etc) explosion, broken arm and surgery, slight lemon at end but not actually written just described aftermath, Maeve arc (I'm so sorry), guns, almost dying, blood, general cm warnings, anything else let me know!

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Authors note; I will edit in the morning I just really wanted you all to have the next chapter as promised!!

'I'ma strike these matches, never had control,

I'm ready to let go, no, was I fooling myself?'

The one with the wedding

JJ’s ears were ringing, a high pitched whine like a radio skipping between stations searching for a signal, and she felt the hard concrete against her milky skin before the throbbing in her forehead hit. 

“JJ, are you alright?” There were hands at her shoulders, patting her down for fractures, not wanting to move her if her spine had been hit, and it wasn’t until she rolled herself over, eyes frantic and in shock that she saw Morgan.

“Where’s Will? Where’s Bugsy?” She asked, the words blurring into one word. Her legs were struggling to a stand before she could think too much about the concussion she almost definitely had, giving Morgan a quick once over, “Did they get out of there?” 

But she hadn’t seen any movement before the blast had shot them back ten feet to the floor. Had only seen the back of the youngest Prentiss woman’s head as she rushed into the building to get emergency medical care to her partner. 

“Where’s Emily?” Morgan added, and the two of them realised they were missing perhaps three of the most important people to them with no sign of life from any of them. 

It didn’t take much for JJ to take off bolting into where the bank’s entrance had crumbled to the floor, where the dust hadn’t even settled and they didn’t know whether there was a second set of bombs waiting for them. They didn’t know anything. 

And it was for that reason JJ dipped straight into the wall of smoke, hand tight on her gun as she went to look for survivors.

Morgan and Hotch were hot on her heels, a dozen firefighters and medical in tow, a similar face of dread in their expressions. 

Aaron’s heart was in his throat when they entered the building, the west facing wall almost entirely in smithereens on the floor. The dust choked him the second they ran in, and he coughed before he could even get a word out, hand flying over his mouth to try give himself some kind of filter to the air. 

“Bugsy!” He yelled as loud as his dry vocal chords would allow, “Bugsy, give us a signal,” 

Nothing. Nothing but the sound of JJ and Morgan screaming for Will and Emily just as loud. And even to that they received no answer. 

It wasn’t until they got close enough to the rubble and began seeing the bodies did Aaron start to fear the worst. He called her name again, her real name, splitting up from the rest of his team because it was no longer a mission for the UnSubs, it was now a search and rescue. 

He crouched to press his fingers against a woman’s throat, stomach flipping when he felt no pulse beneath them, before he moved onto another one, his eyes darting between the chunks of brick and ceiling to see if he could spot anything that looked like an FBI jacket. 

It wasn’t until he found one of the men donned in a SWAT uniform, his gun long since dropped to the tiles that he knew he must be close. It was one of the guys who had gone into the buildings seconds before her.

He felt for a familiar thrum of a heartbeat, his breath thick in his throat when he managed to get a slow and steady thump, and he immediately began signalling for medical attention.

Paramedics came running over with a stretcher between them, but Aaron wasn’t finished, Not until he saw her. 

He dodged around the large chunk of stone that piled in the centre of the room, cringing when he saw a splatter of blood on the tiles in front of him, and it was only when he saw a hand splayed out on the floor did his heart truly stop. 

His cold eyes were wet with fear as he traced the hand up its arm, the familiar blue he wore himself ripped to shreds, the skin beneath it broken and the bone snapped clean in two. He could barely make out the three letters, F. B. I. that were so covered in blood and dirt it almost matched the navy, before he got the pillow of familiar hair matted against a head that faced away from him. 

But it was her. There was no doubt about it. 

He thinks he said her name, but it might just have been a sob, because he fell to his knees quickly, scrambling to get to her face to see if she would respond to him at all. 

“Bugsy, I need you to wake up,” He ordered, though it sounded like a hiss of pain, his rough hands finding her young face, desperate for any movement behind her eyelids, “Come on, sweetheart, just tell me what day it is,”

Years of training on what to do in a crisis and the correct first aid to give to someone unresponsive flew out of his brain, leaving behind bits and pieces like getting her to talk to see whether she had severed anything in that big, amazing brain of hers that had so much promise. 

He leaned his ear down next to her nose, looking down the front of her chest to check for any signs of breath.

This was too similar to what Foyet had done with Haley, like a horrid deja-vu he wouldn’t wish even on their worst UnSub. He had been too slow, too stubborn, too stupid to stop her from getting hurt. He didn’t know what her blood on his hands would feel like, didn’t know if he would ever sleep again knowing he had gotten her killed. 

Aaron’s stomach flipped when he saw her ribs rising slowly beneath her vest, her breaths cold against his earlobe. 

“Guess it’s my turn to come back from the dead, huh?” A croaking whisper came softly, and he flicked his head around so fast he thought he might have whiplash. 

But her eyes were open, squinting and tired, and he cursed the fact he had only then noticed the cut on her forehead, red ichor pumping fast and restlessly down the side of her face. 

He gave a breathless laugh, though it pained his own ringing ear to do so, stroking gently down her face with the same care he would put Jack to bed with. 

“Gotcha,” She smiled up at him sheepishly, her brows furrowing when she seemed then to notice the tears rolling down the tip of his nose, “Aaron Hotchner crying over me, are pigs flying today?” 

He chuckled wetly, and his eyes were the warmest brown she’d ever seen them when he looked down at her. He turned his attention away for a second to call over medical, his eyes landing on Emily who was also frantically scanning the wreckage for her sister and giving her a sign too. 

“You gave us quite a scare there,” Aaron said softly, because judging by the bump on her head, and the way blood was pooling in her ears, he guessed her eardrums had been damaged in the blast. Emily was over to them in seconds, looking dishevelled herself, and she gasped into her hands when she saw her sister’s fragile form. 

“Bugsy- oh my god your arm,” 

The girl’s face dropped, eyes widening as she tried turning to see the damage but Aaron was faster, quickly blocking her view of the mangled mess of skin with hand over the side of her head. 

“What’s wrong with my arm?” She asked, and he saw nothing but his son with a scraped knee in her eyes when she looked up at him vulnerably. Emily fell to her knees next to her, taking over from Aaron by stroking her sister’s cheek, because if her adrenaline rose too much, then the numbness of the shock would wear off and she would feel it all. 

“I think it’s broken, but the paramedics are going to fix you right up, I promise,” Emily cooed, though she felt herself go a little white at the sight of her sister’s bones so mangled and in pieces. 

Aaron looked up when he heard Morgan calling his name, spotting the paramedic team navigating their way back to where the three of them sat, and he waved his hand up to let them know where they were. 

He bit his tongue, looking down at where Bugsy was clearly starting to wake up more to just how bad of a state she was in, and she watched him woefully be torn between helping the rest of his team or staying with her. 

“You guys can go, I’m no use on the case anymore,” She said, despite the fact she was terrified of what might happen if they left her alone. 

“Are you crazy, absolutely not-,” Emily was cut off when two EMT’s rounded the block of concrete and brick that had missed her by a few inches when it had fallen, a stretcher and med packs at their side. 

“Good to see you’re responsive, Agent Prentiss,” One of the EMT’s commented, opening his case up to retrieve a neck brace and a splint for her arm before they could move her to the stretcher. Bugsy smiled up at them, though she knew it looked like a wince, taking one more look at her sister and then at Hotch, both of whom looked stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

“Go, I’m serious. Will needs you,” She said, feeling Emily squeeze her hand gently, pressing a kiss to her hairline, looking down at her in worry, “Go, Emily. Just bring me pudding when you get to the hospital- no Jello-”

She hissed when the paramedics slipped the brace over her shoulders, strapping her head into place to stop her doing any more damage to her spine. 

Emily nodded, and her and Hotch took off round the corner to where Morgan was calling them, and Bugsy let the paramedics fuss over her some more, taking the pain killers without a second glance once she realised just how broken Emily had meant when she saw her arm. 

It got hazy from there, until she felt the sun on her face and she felt a hand grab her good side. Her eyes were rolling with the fact she was fighting off sleep, or maybe she really had lost more blood than she thought. Either way she managed to flick her eyes open enough to meet hazel hues, distraught and worried, heard a familiar voice calling her name sadly, but she was too far gone by then. Her eyes shut despite her fighting them, and she was wheeled into the back of an ambulance by the friendly EMT’s, and the doors shut before her medicated brain could even recognise the voice as Spencer. 

She was asleep before she could protest to it. 

–

The air smelled like bleach- no, like floor cleaner had been drenched all around her, like she had been dropped into a janitor's closet and spilled every bottle over on her way in. 

Her body felt stiff, and she frowned when she felt cramp in her fingertips, pain shooting up her wrist the second she tried to move them. Her eyes opened blearily, and she groaned in protest at the overhead white lights, burying her face into the scratchy sheet that covered her body. Only then did it click that she was in a hospital.

She moaned again when she tried moving her legs and her whole body protested, her bare legs rubbing against the paper like material in a way that made her cringe, and she felt only the hospital gown and underwear on her body.

“You’re awake,” The voice startled her, and she realised she hadn’t even heard the door open in her haze. Spencer stood in the doorway, three big bunches of flowers and two teddies in his arms, one of them holding a sign saying ‘You’re bear-y brave!’

What got her was the look of worry in his eyes when he took her in head to toe, his eyes lingering on the bright pink cast on her lower arm up past her elbow. 

She grimaced, following his eyes to the horror, “Sexy,”

He rushed over to her bedside, all but throwing the flowers and cuddly toys on the space where her legs weren’t curled up under the sheets, pausing for a second to assess the situation. 

“Spencer, you didn’t need to get me all of this,” Bugsy said, her cheeks warming when she saw her favourite flowers right at the end of the bed, blooming right in her direction, “Is everyone okay? Is Will okay?” 

He nodded, but had yet to say anything, and he fiddled with his fingertips the way he did when he was struggling to get his point across properly. She reached out with her functioning hand to take them in hers, because she hated when he wouldn’t talk to her. 

“Spencer, I’m fine, it’s just a broken arm, right?” The woman asked, trying to shuffle herself into a sitting position only to yelp when her side burst into pain. He rushed to put his arm behind her back, to get her to lay back down without putting too much pressure on her sternum, “What the fuck is that? I feel like I got hit by a baseball bat,” 

“That’s what happens when you run blindly into a building without waiting for backup,” Spencer said, an undertone to his words she had never heard from him before, “Two cracked ribs; you’re lucky your lungs are still intact,”

Shit. 

“Anything else?” She asked, a grim look on her face as his expression soured. 

“Almost tore one of your eardrums, moderate concussion. They had to put pins in your arm to fix the fracture, it was transverse before you ask, lacerations to your legs from the glass, and some shrapnel they pulled out while you were in surgery.” Spencer listed, propping a pillow behind her head for her to rest against more comfortably though he still seemed annoyed, “No biggy,”

She paused for a second, watching him like a scolded child, her lips pulling down slightly, “Are you upset with me?” 

He sighed, running a gentle hand over her leg that was covered by the thin sheet, and she felt the sting of cuts on her skin just like he’d said. 

“I’m not annoyed, I could never be annoyed with you; you just-” He huffed, looking up at her sad eyes and feeling his resolve crumbling immediately, “You can’t just throw yourself in the way of danger, you have people who care about you, people who love you,” 

She bristled for a second, looking into her lap and chewing the inside of her lip worriedly, “I just wanted to help Will, I just didn’t want JJ and Henry to lose him the way I thought I lost Emily,”

Spencer’s heart sank, and any telling off he was going to give her for worrying him left him in seconds, and he forgave her embarrassingly fast.

Taking her hand back in his gently and scooching a chair closer to the bed so he could sit with her, he looked up at her with the sweet, puppy eyes she had always loved on him. 

“I know, I know you just wanted to help,” He hushed her, using his other hand to stroke her hair behind her ear, “Next time just… wait for your lucky charm, remember?” 

She smiled brilliantly, and he almost could ignore the butterfly stitching on her forehead or the bright pink cast on her arm, or the fact her clothes had looked like a crime scene when they’d shoved them in a biohazard bag with how soaked in blood they were.

Her pretty tweed pants and white shirt she’d bought especially for his Dr Who convention to make him happy, wasted. 

“Where’s all my clothes?” She asked, like she’d read his mind, but then again she had been known to do that. 

He pouted, because he knew she’d hate the answer, “Emily said they had to cut it off to get you into the brace properly; they ran some scans first to make sure your spine was intact.”

“All of my clothes?” She baulked, and he knew she was upset before she could even say so he stroked his thumb over her hand for good measure, “But my lovely shirt- and the pants they were so cute, weren’t they?”

“They were so cute,” He agreed, even though he thought she looked good in everything.

“And- oh my god they got my bra too?” She asked, wide eyed and horrified like she hadn’t had a building dropped on her, like this was the worst part of her day. Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better than to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and he was sure Pen could take her shopping for new ones even if the thought of it made his cheeks flush red, “They got the best one, Spencer, that was my best one with the little bows and the lace at the back- fuck,” 

She huffed, rubbing her temple in annoyance seemingly completely unaware of the situation she’d put him in, when JJ slowly entered the room, looking more tired and stressed than she had in months, but there was a little glow in her face that washed it all away. 

“JJ, they cut off my favourite bra,” Bugsy huffed, holding an arm out for the woman who came to stand at the opposite side of the bed to Spencer, and JJ quickly leaned in to hug her close, Bugsy’s head pressing against her stomach, “It was the only one that fit perfectly, now look at me. Wasted.”

“I can get you another one on Monday after Will and I have stopped by the courthouse,” JJ said, her eyes alight with mischief like she had a secret, and Bugsy frowned, looking up at the woman. 

“Why on Earth would Will be buying me- Wait,” The girl stopped, her breath catching in her throat as she took in JJ’s sheepish blush and girlish grin, “Courthouse? You’re getting married!” 

JJ’s smile was beaming, and Bugsy yanked her with her one good arm into a side hug, just about as much as her ribcage would allow, and Spencer’s face lit up equally, though he was quick to usher Bugsy back into a resting position so as not to jostle her stitches. 

Spencer drove her home that night after she got discharged, and he helped her get settled back into her own bed, her face still a little bitter at the fact her favourite underwear set was “totally mismatched now”; her words, not his. He put a documentary on for the two of them until it was time for some more of the painkillers the doctors had sent her packing with, and she fell asleep pretty quickly after that. 

He watched her breaths rising and falling slowly, the sight of her on that stretcher being wheeled into the back of the ambulance flashing in his head like a horror motion picture. Her face had been soaked in blood, her neck in a brace that looked tight enough to crush her, her eyes were weary and dim from what he knew now was the sedative effects of the painkillers. 

He’d almost brought up the fact he’d found a geneticist willing to take a look at his MRI scans to help his migraines; almost brought up that she had finally got back to him with results and a plan of vitamins and dietary changes he could make to help ease his flare ups. 

Spencer almost mentioned it, but he fell asleep listening to Bugsy’s breaths, checking for irregularities, before he had the chance to. 

–

Hot pink did not match ditsy blue whatsoever, she had quickly decided, but the bluebell, floral dress was the only thing she owned long enough to cover the scratches on her legs and arms, and hid the majority of the hideous cast that weighed down her arm. 

Spencer had encouraged her not to come to JJ’s ‘engagement party’, had encouraged her to stay at home and sleep; promised her he would rustle up the best chicken soup she’d ever tasted if it meant she would stay on the couch and rest her marred body. 

But then Rossi had said he just simply couldn’t let a nice occasion go to waste. A few phone calls later, a drop in the ocean of his wealth and within two days the yard to his stately manor had been turned into a ceremony, the whole arch, pews and altar style. 

“You should worry so much, you look lovely,” Spencer softly chided her when he saw her yanking her sleeve further down her arm, trying to cover the hard shell that protected her radius while it healed. She did, despite the fact he had to help her do her eyeliner because she could only do it with her right hand, or that there was still a nasty cut on her forehead that was scabbing up. 

She was still beautiful as ever to him. And it made Spencer’s chest sore. 

It felt like something had cracked between them since that night she had been dropped to his, her pupils wide as dinner plates, her inhibitions lowered to zero, and had pecked his lips like it wouldn’t tear him up inside to have her so close to him knowing it was everything he had ever wanted. 

He knew if she ever kissed him again he couldn’t keep it in anymore, couldn’t stay in this limbo they had found themselves in where all he could think about was how she smelled when she wore his clothes, a mix of his laundry and her skin together, something he’d found himself purely saturated in since she first lived with him after Emily’s funeral. He loved the way her eyes seemed soft and mellow when she looked at him, loved the way his stomach seemed warm and fuzzy when she held his hand, and he knew it wasn’t in the same way it normally was with other people, when he was worried about how many germs they were spreading to him or if they’d had all their shots or if he’d remembered to pack hand sanitizer. His stomach felt funny, and his skin felt sweaty, and his head got scrambled, and it was somehow good. 

He would do anything for her, anything she ever wanted from him and it was hers. 

He knew it way surpassed friendship. It felt like she was his girlfriend, which was absurd because he had never asked her to be. Or maybe it was just him trying to wish it into existence, because he knew he would never ask her. She was too good for him, too good for this world let alone a scrawny, know-it-all like him. 

She simpered under his words, looking at him with tired eyes, though he could tell she still yearned to fluff up her hair or fix her dress because she felt like a polished turd right now. 

“Thankyou,” She said quietly, immediately spotting a waiter carrying a tray of champagne passing by and reaching for a little flute, “Want one? Thank you,”

Spencer shook his head politely, quickly spotting Emily and Morgan moving into the garden with Hotch and Beth not far behind them.

“I’ll be right back, just wait here a second,” He said, gently stroking over her spine with his warm hands, before he darted towards the group. Jack took off running towards Bugsy the second he saw her, and Spencer heard the small ‘ooft’ leave the woman as he collided with her stomach and nearly winded her. He was getting bigger by the minute, Spencer swore. 

“Don’t you look dashing, boy wonder,” Morgan teased, flicking his finger under the lapel of Spencer’s two piece suit that Bugsy had told him more than once fit him like a glove, “Someone to impress?” 

Spencer blanched, his eyes shooting to Emily who seemed to hide a smile, because his feelings for her sister were about as plain to see as the moon that coated their evening in a blue glow. Hotch looked over the younger agent’s shoulder, to where his son was throwing cents into Rossi’s fountain with Bugsy and making wishes, his eyes quickly falling to the pink cast around her wrist, and his face hardened. 

“How is she?” He asked, lips pursed. 

They had seen her in turns at the hospital, but most of the time she had been extremely out of it, Hotch had managed to catch her right before they took her into surgery for her arm, and even then he’d been ushered right back out of the room because they were getting her prepped to be scrubbed down. 

Spencer bit his lip for a second, glancing over his shoulder at Bugsy fishing through her purse with her one good hand for more nickels, before he looked back at them, “She doesn’t want anyone to make a big deal about it, and don’t bring up her arm or her forehead, she’s a little delicate-”

He was cut off by Penelope squealing behind them, and they turned in unison to see the blonde woman cupping Bugsy’s face, checking herself for more abrasions, stroking over the younger girl’s shoulders as she simply allowed herself to be ragged like a doll. 

Because it was Penny. And Penny always meant well. 

Spencer flustered worriedly, and Morgan chuckled behind him, wrapping an arm over the kid’s shoulder. 

“Can’t protect her forever, lover boy,” Derek said, patting him before he let go, taking Emily’s elbow and walking over to where they were serving hors d'oeuvres. 

Spencer knew that, knew she could handle herself just fine without him. That was what worried him the most. 

–

JJ looked beautiful in her mother’s wedding dress. Bugsy welled up with happiness, true happiness when she saw her friend walking down the aisle with her son, a spitting image of her, in one hand, her father’s arm in the other. 

Will looked besotted, but then again he always did when he looked at JJ. 

Bugsy felt the love in the entire yard as they said their vows, kissing each other without restraint under the floral arch as Henry covered his eyes with a little giggle and an ‘eww!’ which made everyone chuckle. 

The violinists began playing soft hymns as the couple had their first dance, and Henry migrated towards the woman with the pink hand and the sapphire dress. 

“Buggy,” He tugged on the bottom of her skirts, huge, sky-blue eyes blinking up at her behind a mop of blonde furls. “Buggy, your hand!” 

She knelt down to hear the three year old a little better, and immediately tiny fingers trailed over her wrist worriedly. 

“Your hand, it’s hurt,” He said, and Spencer crouched to comfort the boy who he still remembered holding hours after he was born.

“I know, I hurt myself at work,” She said, letting him run his fingers over the pink shelling, his eyes wide and confused about the new material, “But Mommy saved me, and she saved your Daddy, and she saved you, didn’t she? Isn’t she so brave,” 

Henry smiled, like all his thoughts of his mommy being Wonder Woman were true, and he nodded, stepped towards Bugsy while making grabby hands for her neck, “Up,”  

Spencer was about to protest, because he didn’t want her to push herself, but he knew she could never say no to kids, especially ones as cute as the boys. 

“Alright, big man, up we go,” She put her good arm under his bottom, Spencer holding under her shoulder to help her into a stand with a repressed grunt, “Jesus, what did you eat for breakfast today. You really are a big boy, Henry,” 

She put him on her hip, shoving off the way it stung her superficial cuts because Henry seemed happy, grabbing a section of her hair in his tiny hands, and stroking her head gently in what Bugsy guessed was the way JJ stroked his when he was unwell. 

“Mommy says you have to have a magic kiss when you get hurt,” Henry babbled, and she smiled, her cheeks hurting because the kid was just sweet enough to eat. 

“Oh, yeah? Is mommy magic then?” She entertained, feeling Spencer still a ghost over her shoulder in case she started struggling to hold the pre-schooler. His godson laughed like she told a joke, shaking his golden locks as he answered. 

“No, Buggy,” He giggled, patting her cheek as she scrunched eyes shut with a smile, “You get a magic kiss when you get fixed. Like this,” He leaned in, leaving a big wet smooch on her cheek that made her giggle, tightening her hold on him with a shiny jaw. Henry turned to where Spencer watched them with a dazzling smile, pointing up at him, little fingernails waving in his face, “Spencer’s turn,”

His godfather faltered, his cheeks turning red and Bugsy looked between the two of them, amused. 

“I can’t, I’m afraid Henry. I’m not magic like you and mommy,” Spencer replied, trying to brush the boy off as kindly as possible. Henry’s face frowned, because he had watched Uncle Spencer pull a coin out of his ear not even half an hour ago and so that statement seemed ridiculous. 

“You have to! You have to give her magic kisses or she won't get better!” Henry ordered, trying to grab Spencer’s bow tie with vigour, “You have to!” 

“Alright, alright,” Spencer agreed, his hands shooting up in surrender, “I’ll give her magic kisses,”

Bugsy looked at him with a heart stopping smile. She looked soft like butter, syrupy and warm as pudding. The moonlight washed her pupils with something like a cartoonish twinkle, and he hoped his forest eyes didn’t turn to two love hearts the way he felt like it did. 

He raised one of his hands to her cheek, the same one Henry just kissed, holding her still. She was cool in the night air, or maybe his hand was just too warm because he was so nervous. He hoped he wasn’t shaking, but her jaw fit into the palm of his hand like it was always meant to be there. 

He dipped his head in to give her a long, delicate kiss to her cheek, running a thumb down the apple of her cheek. 

He pulled away from her, and they exchanged a look, something in her eyes he had rarely seen before. Figuring it was discomfort, or maybe just the light playing tricks on him, he stepped away, and Henry was quickly distracted by a frog hopping through the mildewed grass, and he set Bugsy on the task to help him catch it. 

Spencer busied himself talking to Will and Derek in the hopes his heart would calm down any minute soon, but he had quickly felt himself becoming somewhat addicted to the feel of her skin beneath his lips. He wondered lewdly if the rest of her would feel so soft as her cheek had, and immediately scolded himself for it. 

The thought haunted him for the rest of the night.

-

Penny twirled her around by her good arm, and the two of them giggled like school girls under the fairy-light woven pergola, the string quartet finishing off the fast paced song they had switched up the mood with. The blonde was careful about not jostling the woman too much, she could already feel Spencer and Emily’s worried looks from where they sat together at a table, nursing their drinks mid chat. 

But whether it was the fact she had been cooped up for days on bed rest orders (Spencer’s, not the Doctor’s, though he’d argued that was the same thing,) or that last morphine patch had really given her a kick up the behind, but she seemed to be hiding the pain well. 

JJ would only have one wedding, she’d argued with Spencer, she could have a hundred days in bed, but there would only be one night like this one; when they were all together, safe and happy, when there was enough palpable love in the air that fell over everyone's shoulders like a warm hug. He’d grumbled that he was usually the optimistic one and zipped up her dress for her with shaky fingers anyway. 

Before Penny could spin her round even one more time, a figure appeared two tower over the blonde, and a voice cut in between them politely.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me lead the next dance, I think Reid and Prentiss might just tackle you if you shake her up anymore,” Aaron’s voice was soft, inviting with the one and a half beers he’d had edging at his tone, almost teasing in a way so rare for a man so stern. 

Penelope looked over Bugsy’s shoulder to indeed see the woman’s two guard dogs watching her like a hawk, Bug’s already opened purse on Spencer lap where her emergency painkillers were. 

“Oh god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Spencer frown like that, it’s like watching a puppy resource guarding,” Penelope faltered, looking the woman head to toe as if she was being held against her will to dance by the blonde, “You’re not hurt or anything- you’d tell me if you were hurt, wouldn’t you?”

Bugsy chuckled, throwing her good arm over the woman’s shoulder, “Relax, they’re both worry warts. I’m having fun, Pen. I think Hotch just wanted a turn with the ugly barbie,”

Against Penelope’s better judgement, she gave the woman a kiss on the cheek with a sigh of defeat, though she had been so careful not to push her in fear of her cracking another rib, but she had loved seeing Bugsy smile like that again. 

Derek was quick to swoop in to save her, swooping in to steal her for a dance as Aaron gently took Bugsy’s waist and good hand, entirely respectable and gentle in his touch. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, your bell got a little rung in that bank,” Aaron murmured, trying not to fret over the gash on her forehead that had a few butterfly stitches pulling it together. He remembered how frail she’d felt in his arms the last time he’d properly seen her, like a baby bird with its wings snapped in his hands. He was worried he was going to be burying her too, just like he had Emily, just like he had Haley, except he knew for her there wasn’t a catch, an escape route to Paris. There wouldn’t have been a do over.

But she was okay. Broken bones and all. 

She smiled at him, as if to remind him just how alive she was, and he saw how her eyes were bloodshot and tired, as if it was taking all of her energy to keep her head upright. 

“If you knew how many morphine patches are on my butt right now, you’d freak,” She said, and he laughed, because she was always good at getting those from him. Bugsy relaxed in his arms, and he rocked her side to side sweetly, not quite dancing but moving passively to the soft melody the band was playing. 

Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t in work mode, or maybe it was because the night air was cosy and light, or maybe she just weaselled out the guilt that had been stored in his chest for nearly a year, but he let himself look at her with a sad, sepia gaze, and it was like she knew what he was going to say before he said it. 

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologise,” She cut in quickly, her own expression falling into something forlorn, “You have nothing to apologise for, Aaron,”

He took a deep breath through his nose, “I do. That wasn’t right how I treated you. You’re not spoiled.” 

“I can be, sometimes,” She argued defeatedly, but he shook his head before she could add to it, “You were doing what was best to keep Emily safe, it was her I was more mad at than anything. She’s my sister, she should have trusted me, you and JJ didn’t owe me anything.”

“We owed you a better explanation than we gave,” He said, watching her sigh and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He cursed Spencer for allowing her to wear heels in her condition, though he didn’t doubt that the pretty boy had put up just as much fight as he would have seeing her grab the shoes on her way out, “I never meant to hurt you so much. And we do owe you better, we’re a family. Families fight, and they say mean things and they tell white lies sometimes but we love each other, and I only ever wanted to keep everyone safe. Okay?”

She nodded against his blazer material, dropping his hand in the interest of wrapping both her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug, ignoring the dulled ache of her ribcage.

“I love you too,” She murmured, and he gave her a feather-light squeeze back, all too aware of her bones creaking under her skin, “I’m sorry I hit you,”

She let go of him, and he held her hand, the tips of her fingers poking out from beneath her cast that already had Jack’s name scrawled over in black sharpie. 

“I deserved it, I was being cruel,” He said honestly. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but the emptiness in her laugh, in the way she’d stormed out, had scared him. He thought even if she lashed out, if she screamed at him or cried that would be better than the silent treatment because at least then he would know where she stood with him. But instead he had driven the knife in deeper, and for that he couldn’t say he blamed her for it, “I’ve had worse, much worse. Maybe you’re not as tough as you think,”

She baulked, and realised he was teasing her, “Maybe we could go round two Monday morning, I bet it would hurt a lot having a hard plaster cast swung at your face,” 

“For me or for you?” She smacked his arm with her good hand, and it made him chuckle again, and soon she was laughing too, resting her head back onto his shoulder comfortably, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bug,”

“Did you not hear where I put those morphine patches? I could paper mache with those bastards,” 

And they danced between chuckles for another half an hour. 

–

“Wait, wait, you’re going to compress her spine,” Derek stopped, Bugsy dipped at his waist where he was supporting her full weight because she’d complained she missed dancing with Penelope. She hated people walking on eggshells around her, and if anyone was going to have fun with her who could still make sure she was safe, it was Derek. 

The woman grinned up at him, Derek’s hands safely around her waist and not pressing on her ribs whatsoever, though she had to admit she was ready for another dose of painkillers after a few hours of dancing between Hotch, then to JJ who had swiftly been taken over by Henry who wanted to be lifted high enough he could hold Bugsy’s hands like he had seen the others doing. David had even entertained her with a very slow three step waltz, until Derek had been her next target because he seemed to be having the most fun whirling Emily around the dance floor. 

“Spencer!” She said and Morgan returned her to full height once he saw Reid’s fretful expression. She pouted, “Spencer, I was having fun,”

“You know what’s fun? Eating cake is fun, drinking water is fun, resting on the couch is fun,” He said, and Morgan was quick to hand the baby Prentiss over to Reid who rifled around his pocket to produce the tablet version of her buprenorphine, “You need more medicine or it’s going to hurt worse in the morning, remember? Getting ahead of the pain?”

She sighed, nodding, and before he could pop two out of the shiny, metal coated tray, she stopped him, “Wait, dance with me first,”

He looked at her incredulously, eyes softening when she stepped closer to him, her hand coming over the top of his to push the pain killers away, “It’s going to hurt more if you don’t get ahead of it now,”

“I know, I know,” She muttered, nodding docilely, “Look, I promise if you just dance with me a little now, I’ll have my meds and take it easy for the rest of the night, no questions asked,”

He looked unconvinced, because she was known to put up a fight when it came to doing something she didn’t want to. 

She sighed, “If I sit down now, I know I won’t be getting back up again for the rest of the night, and I wanted to enjoy myself until I couldn’t anymore,”

Spencer looked at her pleading puppy dog eyes, and broke almost embarrassingly fast, letting her follow his hand into his pocket, putting the drugs away and letting her take his now free hand in his own. 

“I’ll have it known I tried to stop this when this catches up to you and you have to go lay down on Rossi’s spare bed,” He argued back, but felt his stomach flip when she laced her fingers with his, pushing herself closer to him as a means of drawing him out of his grumpy mood. 

“He has more than enough, just dance with me,” She brushed his attitude off, wrapping her plaster-cast over his shoulder. 

He took her waist gently, feeling the plush, softness of her hips and wishing the heat away from his cheeks. She looked divine under the fairy lights, ready to be whisked away by sleep yes, but the sleepy blinks added to her charm, and she was soft and pliant under his touch like a tame cat ready to curl up on his chest.

“I had so much fun,” She said, meeting his adoring gaze, probably because he couldn’t drag his eyes away from her. He nodded, worrying then if his hair was sitting right or if hid bowtie needed straightening. She was a goddess in his arms, the colour of her dress matching her skin beautifully, a few wisps of hair falling over her eyes from where Penny had damn near done the quick step with her. 

She looked like a dream.

“I never thanked you for everything you did for me when Emily was-” She gulped, her eyes suddenly down turned, like she couldn’t admit anything to the hazel of his eyes, not when they looked at her like that. “You were the only thing I had for a very long time, and I never really said how much it all meant to me,”

“You’re my best friend, I’m always going to be there for you,” He said, lovingly stroking a thumb over her skin, his voice tender as this touch, “That’s what friends are for,”

Even though he was sure he’d never felt this way about any of his friends before, even the tiny crush he’d had on JJ for all of two weeks when he’d first started at the BAU didn’t even make a mark on how she got his chest hammering like a jackrabbit. 

Her face flickered with something he couldn’t read, and she nodded, “Right. Friends.” She swallowed heavily. 

She slumped against him, like the wind had been taken out of her, her head on his shoulder, but it felt nothing like when she had danced with Hotch. 

It felt like everything she’d ever wanted was right in her grasp, like the one person who made her feel whole again was pressed against her, stroking down her spine with an affection she could swear blind was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Like the only air she knew how to breathe was filling her lungs, every note of fresh linen, the hair gel he sometimes used to tame his curls, down to the faint smell of his apartment, so filled with books the smell of worn leather and thin paper seeped into his clothes. 

She couldn’t remember who she was before she knew Spencer. She felt like she’d always known him. 

He wasn’t just her friend, he was every bit of her that she wasn’t. Every ugly part of her that had always felt so alone, like loneliness was just ingrained into her since birth that seemed to jump up in a strange feeling of longing and home whenever he was near. 

She let herself revel in his arms as long as she could, because she knew it was so illicit to be feeling so hungry for something she couldn’t have. She knew he was too good for her; she had never deserved any scrap of kindness he gave her. She could be mean, and rude, and loud, and ugly, and spiteful and he was everything she wasn’t. He was kind, and sweet, and gentle, and loving, and he didn’t deserve someone like her; he deserved so much better. 

Bugsy let herself stay against his chest for a while longer, slowly swaying with him under the moonlight as JJ and Will took each other in their arms; a couple that fit together, Bugsy thought, two people who were so right for one another. Who deserved their happiness. 

And so she selfishly let herself pretend she could have him as long as she could, silently dancing together under the pergola, until she agreed to go sit down because she would never admit that the ache in her side had started to seep back in, and he fussed over her some more and she told him he was being silly, but she preened under his affections anyway. 

They’d reached a stalemate, Spencer would have probably called it.

Bugsy knew she shouldn’t want him, but she did. She shouldn’t want him because he was the pretty boy, the sweetheart that sat untainted by everything he’d seen and endured, the one who had jumped and cleared every hurdle life had thrown at him where she had fallen flat. He had gotten better on his own after Hankel; she had crashed and burned and taken nearly everyone with her. He was strong, and she was weak. She shouldn’t want him, it was selfish, but she did. 

Spencer knew he couldn’t have her, because she was beyond anything he had ever dreamed of, beyond his best friend, beyond the girl who kissed him and didn’t ever want to talk about it again. He couldn’t have her because she was still healing, still wounded and vulnerable and rattled from barely recovering her relationship with her sister before she’d had a bank dropped on top of her. It would be wrong, it would be selfish, she would never want some scrawny kid from a shitty home where he was beaten up by girls even smaller than him and wedgied so hard he had to follow the librarian to class. He was a nobody. He couldn’t have her because she deserved so much better, but he wanted her. 

They sat at a stalemate for a few weeks longer, until Emily got a job offer in London, and she asked Bugsy to take an internship at Interpol one of her old associates had sent to her. Twelve weeks learning how international databases worked, even some forensic work for Scotland Yard if she played her cards right. 

And she took it; without much warning she took it, even if not to give herself some breathing space from how much her chest pined to be back in Spencer’s arms she had that night. 

Bugsy headed to London, and didn’t look back. 

2. The one with Maeve

Four Months. Bugsy had been in England for four months. 

At first, they had called regularly, almost every other day, except the days she was just too tired to stay up until two am to call him when he got home. They had spent an hour on the phone at least; she had asked about the team, the cases, if he missed her yet which he always told her to knock it off because of course he missed her, and he had asked about London, and what England was like, and how Emily was doing. 

Until around two months in when her schedule had changed to night shifts, and they could only ever communicate by texts, at which point he had been the one struggling to talk because he had no clue how to work his phone. She had called the odd time on her half an hour lunch break, but it was always rushed, never consistent, usually ending up with her excusing herself and hanging up on him fast because she was needed urgently somewhere else. 

Cynically enough, the only time she could ever call was Sundays. Sundays when he was already busy, Sundays when he was admittedly on the phone, only he wasn’t talking to her. 

He was talking to Maeve. 

The geneticist he had been ready to tell her all about before JJ’s wedding, who had all but cleared up his migraines within a few sessions, who had asked him three days after Bugsy had flown out what had made his head flare up again and so he’d told her. Told her his best friend moved to another country temporarily, that he missed her and had been looking after her cats for her while she was gone because her new landlord wouldn’t let them have pets. And it had spiralled from there, she had asked more about the rest of his life, and he had asked about hers, and suddenly they weren’t just talking about his migraines anymore, they were flirting. 

He hadn’t told Maeve that he was in love with said friend who had taken a great opportunity with both hands and fled the second she could. He couldn’t hold it against her, not when he was choosing his calls with Maeve over the only chance he had to speak to Bugsy, and four months really wasn’t that long in the scheme of things. 

That was what he’d tried telling himself at least. He missed her more than anything, and the only thing that he’d found combatted the sting of her being gone was Maeve. 

Maeve; who he had never seen, whose voice was sweet and alluring, who got his humour the way girls rarely ever did (besides Bug ofcourse). Who liked what he liked, and could talk his ear off about what she’d been reading, and about her day in the lab. 

She was Bugsy in every other font, every other manner, and best of all she liked him. She told him weeks ago she liked him, that she wanted to date him, that he was her dream guy. 

Call him a cynic for enjoying having a chance with someone, then that’s what he was. 

Life since he had tried pushing away his unrequited feelings for one Prentiss girl had been going swimmingly. He liked their new team mate, Alex Blake, the brilliant linguist who warmed to him quite quickly; he had a girl at his heels who returned his feelings, who was everything he always said he looked for in a partner, even without having ever seen her face, and he was rather enjoying having Nico and Sergio around to keep him company. 

But as it always did, the contented limbo he’d found himself in where he might actually be able to get a girlfriend came to a screeching halt on Sunday afternoon when he was stepping outside at three forty-five, readying himself for the ten minute walk to the nearest phone booth for their call at four pm on the dot. He had just about locked his front door, turning on his heel with his scarf draped over his shoulders when he had collided with someone’s chest. 

“Oh I’m so- Bugsy?” 

“Spencer!” She smiled at him wider than she ever had before, and she threw her arms over his shoulders because he had never protested to her affection before, “It’s so good to see you- I missed you so much, there’s so much I have to tell you-”

“What are you doing here?” It sounded like a confrontation, though he hadn’t meant it that way, just that he hadn’t been expecting her back for another two weeks at least and he certainly hadn’t expected to see her today, right before he was about to go call the girl he was sort of seeing, sort of not. 

She bristled at his tone, because he didn’t sound nearly as happy to see her as she had expected. Pulling away, she realised he hadn’t even bothered to hug her back, and she tried to shove away the embarrassment that she’d never ever felt in front of him before. 

“I- just- I wanted to surprise you. Interpol said I could finish early since I’d finished all my paperwork and could take the exams online in a few weeks,” She stammered, feeling uncharacteristically stuck for what to say. He flicked a look down to his wrist, his brows furrowed like she was taking up too much time, “Is something wrong, did I do something wrong?”

“No, you just-” He breathed heavily out of his nose, running a hand through his hair, “I’m late for something,”

“I’ll drive you!” She jumped at the chance, fishing for her keys in her pocket, “Car’s right out front, I sort of just threw it there because I wanted to see you,”

“I’m walking,” He said, in that frustrated tone again and she stopped looking at her jacket, her eyes snapping to his as he looked past her like she was in his way. 

“O-okay, well then do you want company?” She said, her bag heavy with the souvenir she got him, though now it seemed to be weighing her down. 

“It’s sort of personal,” He replied shortly, like she was a stranger selling him something on his doorstep, when really he was just cursing his luck that the girl he’d spent months trying to get over was here in front of him like someone was waving a bone in his face and he was a pup being told to sit. He was cursing the fact that he had spent hours and hours dreaming of the minute he’d see her again and she had showed up out of the blue after weeks of little to no communication like a damn hallucination of the senses. 

She stopped then, her face contorting into a frown, “Is everything okay, are you sure I didn’t do anything-”

“You could have called, I’m kind of busy, Bugsy,” Spencer replied, even though he knew he was being unreasonable. It wasn’t her fault she was unravelling all of his progress just by being there. He thought he was finally getting over her, and with one whiff of her perfume, of her shampoo mixed with her natural scent, he was remembering just how in love with her he had been just a few months ago, like Pavlov’s fucking dog. 

Her face fell then, into something kicked and hurt, “Sorry- my phone died on the plane, I didn’t even think, I just- I just wanted to see you,” 

He faltered, the frustration leaking out of him, but before he could really say much else, she’d taken a step away, swung around to head for the stairs, “Sorry, I’ll call next time, sorry I got in your way, Spence,” 

And she sounded genuine, not annoyed like he would expect for someone who’d been spoken to like trash. The guilt seeped in almost immediately, but then his mind ticked over the minutes he had left until Maeve would be expecting a call. Nine minutes now, he would need to speed walk. 

He could make it up to Bugsy as soon as he was done with the girl who was almost her but not. 

–

Spencer felt like an idiot. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the look on her face when she had left his apartment, nor had he not stopped chiding himself for not heading straight out after her. 

His phone call with Maeve hadn’t gone how he’d expected, which would have been the only thing soothing the burn of his scathing tone, except she had hung up rather abruptly after he had suggested they meet up, something that had played on his mind for weeks now. 

“Are you being safe?” He asked, the payphone hard and cold in his hand as he pressed it to his ear. 

She chuckled softly down the phone, a sound that would have made his heart flutter if he hadn’t been feeling so wound up about seeing Bugsy, “Yes, I’m being safe,” 

“Do you think he knows about us?” Spencer dared to ask after a moment of silence, because he could tell it was worrying her too. He wondered if the two of them would be dating by now if it wasn’t for the fact she had a stalker who may or may not turn his attention to Spencer if he realised they were seeing one another. 

“No, as far as I can tell he doesn’t,” She said, her voice slightly more rigid than what he was used to. Her voice was always honey smooth when they spoke, and Spencer had more than enough time to wonder if it ever matched what she looked like. “And we need to keep it that way,” 

The line went dead, and with it the only thing that he’d been telling himself was worth hurting his best friend even the tiniest bit went with it. 

Spencer felt like an asshole. He’d tried calling Bugsy’s phone, then when she hadn’t answered he’d tried asking Penelope, who said she’d gone to visit JJ, Will and Henry since he was too busy. 

At least that would have lightened her mood, he hoped, as he walked into the office Monday morning, and saw her at her desk, already chatting to Penelope with Derek’s arm around her shoulder. 

She was all smiles today, pretty much how she had looked yesterday before he had all but kicked her out, and the sinking feeling in his chest tripled when she looked past Penelope’s shoulder and saw him. Her eyes wavered for a second, head turning downwards as if she hadn’t properly spotted him, 

“Pretty boy! Look who it is,” Derek called him over, even though he was already speed walking and he stopped in front of her, looking her head to toe for the first time fully. 

He realised then her hair was slightly different, that she’d had it cut shorter since the last time he’d seen her, that she’d gotten a new ear piercing. It made her look older, more mature than when he’d last seen her, or maybe he had just not seen her in so long. Maybe he just hadn’t bothered, he thought painfully.

“I saw him yesterday,” Bugsy said, and he felt caught immediately, Penelope’s head whipping to him, “He was kinda busy though, weren’t you, Spence? More of a passing visit.” 

She sounded indifferent to yesterday’s rudeness, like it hadn’t really phased her despite the fact he’d seen for his own eyes the way her expression dropped. 

“I was- I had an appointment,” He said, because he felt the need to explain himself even if he couldn’t.

She smiled at him, something dampened and fake, “I leave for a few months and suddenly boy wonder is too busy to talk to me, what is the world coming to,” She joked, and Spencer felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, though Penny and Derek laughed. 

“No, really, I had an appointment-” He tried to reason, but Penelope stopped him before he could fret too much, his hands wringing and he tried to lie on the spot without getting caught. 

“She’s just kidding, Spence, don’t worry,” Pen shook him off warmly, quickly grabbing Bugsy’s arm tightly, the faint scar where she’d had her surgery trailing up her skin, “Now, to my bat cave, where we can talk all about just how good British guys are in bed without the boy germs getting all over our gossip,” 

Bugsy laughed, allowing herself to be pulled along, right past Spencer without a second glance, despite the fact he looked like he was about to throw up. 

Why hadn’t he thought about that? Why hadn’t he considered for a second that she would meet anyone, if not seriously, then for a one night stand? What if all those nights she was too busy to talk she had been with someone, someone much cooler and hotter and overall more experienced than he was. He was thirty years old and he had only ever slept with two women, one being Austin the bartender she’d told him to go after despite him lingering around her the whole night, the other being a girl he’d met in O’Keeffes after a hard case when he had been a few months sober, wanting anything, anyone, to take his mind away from going back to the little vial of trouble. 

How could he be so stupid? Of course she’d be hooking up with other people. She was young and gorgeous and smart as a whip and single. She’d be any guy's dream. 

He knew he was being so, so disgustingly hypocritical. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Maeve for months, and yet here he was seething with jealousy at the very thought of Bugsy being with someone who could love her without feeling guilty for loving her. 

Spencer swallowed his pride and set his stuff down on his desk, watching Penelope grab Alex and drag her to her bat cave on her way, the older woman lighting up at the fact she was meeting the Bugsy Prentiss. 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and felt a migraine start to ache behind his eyes. 

–

“Alex- Blake, where are you going?” Spencer called, shoving his cell in his back pocket as he jogged toward the woman about to climb into the SUV.

Sure enough, Bugsy had been back in the office for one hour before they were getting pulled into another case, and she was more than happy to jump in to help with her new found skills in Interpol. 

It was a gruesome case, which was saying something for all the shit they’d seen. The UnSub was amputating legs off one victim to then put onto his next one. There had been one guy waking up in his hotel room with both legs missing below the knee, then another gentleman had walked into an ER room with legs that weren’t his own attached to his sockets. 

It made Bugsy’s skin crawl, but that was simply a day's work for them. They were at the most recent victim’s body; a woman who seemed to have been too weak to survive the surgery had been dumped on the street with her limbs switched to someone else’s. They had at least one other victim they hadn’t found yet, the girl thought darkly. 

“Hotch called, he wants us back at the station ASAP,” The woman replied, Bugsy at her side.

“Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main, it’s on the way?” Spencer asked, trying his hardest to ignore the frown the youngest Prentiss gave him, confusion written across her face. 

“Uh, yeah sure. What’s at 5th and Main?” Alex asked, also confused as to what was so pressing he needed to side track their case. 

“I need to talk to somebody,” He replied shortly, the same cut off tone he’d used with Bugsy just the day before, and Alex faltered. 

“Yeah, uh, okay. Sure.” She agreed, not wanting to rock the boat considering she was still so new to the BAU. She looked over at Bugsy, who seemed disgruntled as she headed for the passenger side, Spencer climbing into the back of the SUV with a troubled look on his face when their eyes met in the rear-view mirror. 

“You’re coming with us?” He asked, looking on edge when he saw she’d gotten into their car and not into JJ’s like she had on their way over there.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” Bugsy asked, and he shrugged, playing with his fingertips in his lap. 

“No, that’s fine, I just didn’t know you were coming with us,” He replied shortly, his face starting to warm when he realised how rude he’d sounded. He heard her sigh, and look out the window with no more protest in her. 

Alex didn’t ask questions as she put the handbrake down, perhaps sensing the tension in the car between the two agents, and she didn’t need to be a profiler to tell there was either a lot unsaid between them or maybe even words that no one could take back. 

Either way she did as he’d asked, because Bugsy hadn’t actually protested, just bit at her fingernails that said she was thinking too hard, and stepped on the gas.

–

The car pulled around to where a dimly lit payphone sat, empty and looking like it hadn’t been used in years. Which it probably hadn’t, besides as a dog urinal. 

Alex stopped the car, and Spencer was already opening the door before she could even put it into neutral, “Do you want us to wait?” 

“Uh, you know what, it might take a while, so I’ll just get a cab back,” He said, his tone clipped and leaving little room for questions. He felt Bugsy staring at him in confusion from the front seat, and he avoided her gaze like the plague, even if there was something sad in them that he was being so distant. “Thanks anyway,” He hopped out the car slamming the door shut, and digging through his pocket for change as he headed for the payphone. 

Alex drove off, and he felt his chest get lighter for it, because he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the act. 

He hated lying, especially to her. Every morsel of his being writhed in discontent whenever he would lie, like the truth was just begging to slip out one way or another, and he knew he would only feel all the more guilty for it as soon as the case was over and he couldn’t avoid her eyes that haunted him like a wraith or her touch that seemed to have been kept to herself since he had snubbed her hug at his doorway. 

He knew he was pulling away, knew she was doing the same thing, and he hated it. 

Bugsy sat in the car, her face moody as anything as she glared out the window and Alex took the corner around the block. 

“So is it usually like this between you two?” Alex dared to ask, her food steady on the pedal, “The lingering looks, the awkward silences? From what Penelope told me, the two of you are as close as can be,”

“Yeah, usually we are,” Bugsy replied coldly, and within a second she was unplugging her seatbelt, “In fact, pull back around the block. I’m done with him being an asshole without an explanation.”

Alex felt like she had just pulled a pin from her grenade with her delicate question, though she had meant entirely well, and did as the girl told her to, worried just what might blow up in her face if she didn’t.

Spencer had already dialled the number he knew off by heart, with or without his eidetic memory, by the time they pulled around. 

His face dropped, knowing the returning call would be coming any minute now and he just hoped Maeve wasn’t too worried about him. But he had no time to think about her, because the second he saw Bugsy getting out of the car he could tell she was pissed. 

Pissed in a way she had never been with him, but then he supposed, he had never treated her like that either. 

“I’m going to give you one chance to tell me the truth, Spencer, because I’m tired of the clipped responses and the pushing me away,” She said, walking over to him like he owed her money. Which he didn’t. But he did owe her a good explanation as to what the hell was going on with them, “Did I do something? You can tell me if I’m an asshole, I know I can be an asshole, but you have to tell me so I can fix it-”

“You haven’t done anything, Bug, just please get back in the car,” Spencer cut her off, which was clearly the wrong move as he saw her brow raise at him. 

“Something’s not right, Spencer,” Alex agreed, though she held back because hurricane Bugsy seemed to be more than enough intimidation for the guy, “What’s the deal?”

“What do you mean? Why did you guys come back?” He rushed, because he could feel his face warming, and he played with his fingertips like he did when he was struggling. 

“Don’t answer a question with a question,” Bugsy chided, and he rubbed his palm with his thumb self-soothingly, and that was what tripped him up. Her eyes zeroed on his hands, looking back up at him and he almost went white at the predicament he’d found himself in, “You’re lying about something,”

“No, I’m not, I would never lie to you-” She pulled his hands apart, looking at him with hurt written across her soft features. 

“Bullshit, I know when you’re lying, Spencer, or did you just forget that we’re best friends. That seems to mean nothing to you nowadays,” She snapped, and he could only look back at the phone booth, knowing that she would be calling any second now, “Are you even listening to me?” 

Her tone was hurt, wounded, because he had to admit he was being inconsiderate. 

“A while back, I found a geneticist that helped clear up my migraines, and we stayed in touch while you were in London,” He said, because that was all true, and she couldn’t call him a liar again if he was telling the truth.

“So? What does that have to do with the case,” Alex prompted, her own face scrunched in ire as he hopped around the subject. 

“I think maybe my friend may be able to see something we’ve missed.” Spencer rushed out, his eyes puppy like as he willed Bugsy to stop looking so damn betrayed. 

“You have four of the best minds I know back at the station, you have a woman with a biochemistry master's standing in front of you who dabbled in medicine for fun, but you need your friend for help?” Alex responded, because there was no way he was getting out of the hole he’d dug himself if she had anything to say about it. She too, as new to the team as she was, had no time for secrets on a job where trust meant everything. 

“I know, but sometimes a different perspective helps me think better, okay?” He replied, his hand itching to take his palm back because he knew it still wasn’t the full truth. 

Bugsy scoffed, crossing her arms over one another, and shifting her weight to one foot. 

“You’re being ambiguous, you always do that when you’re lying,” She muttered, loud enough for him to hear and he gulped, turning his head to the ground. 

“All of this begs a bigger question, why did you ask me to bring you?” Alex asked, because she was thinking the same thing. 

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Spencer said, but his spine straightened impossibly when the payphone began ringing, and he seemed skittish like a naughty school child.

“You could have asked JJ or Morgan to drive you, but you asked me. You had a problem with Bugsy coming, because you didn’t think she’d be with us, so what’s the deal? Why me?” Alex pushed, and Spencer flustered, his head whipping around to where the high pitched chime continued, and he knew she didn’t have much time before the line went dead. 

“Alex, please,” Spencer begged, feeling Bugsy’s eyes boring into the side of his head as he avoided her gaze like the plague. 

“Just answer the question,” Bugsy bit out, because she was sick of being ignored all day, of being treated like she was contaminated or like he had never known her a day in his life. Not when she had flown on the first plane back to see him because she missed him more than she could ever tell him. 

Not when she had been racing up the stairs to his apartment, her souvenir in her bag, the words on the foreword written in her own hand ready to tell him how she felt. 

Because she knew it, after weeks of not seeing him, hours of just missing him and the few texts back and forth, she knew it. She knew she had to tell him, even if they had to brush it under the rug to be friends again, even if it was a shot in the dark she had to tell him. 

She couldn’t choke it down anymore.  

Only when she’d gotten there, thrown her arms around him, he almost felt like a stranger beneath her hand, almost felt like he never even knew her.

Spencer sighed heavily, looking at Alex because he thought he might just crack if he looked at Bugsy when he said it. 

“Because I didn’t want them to know about her, alright?” 

And she knew it then, knew it by the way he’d softened entirely when he said her, the way he seemed to melt just by thinking of her, the way he cowered into taking a step back towards the phone booth. It wasn’t just his geneticist, it was someone else entirely. Someone so much more to him.  

Bugsy felt a lump in her throat, and she forced with all her might to not let her eyes well with tears. Because friends didn’t feel like they’d been sucker punched in the gut at hearing they were seeing someone else. Friends didn’t feel an all consuming jealousy writhe under their skin at the idea of them being with someone who wasn’t them, feeling something for someone who wasn’t them. 

That wasn’t what just friends did. 

And Bugsy thought with horror, as he picked up the phone and spoke in hushed, gentle tones that he once did with her, that they might never be friends again. 

3. The one with their first date

Things were weird. Really weird. And painful. Really, really fucking painful.

Bugsy and Spencer had never been like this, never been so cold besides the first time they’d ever met, and even then she had warmed him from the inside out. She was sharing her sharlotka within hours of even knowing him, never even knowing he was knee deep in an addiction he was struggling to face alone, and that she had made him feel better than he had in weeks with her smile and her kindness and her quick witted brain. 

Things were strange between them, and it was becoming noticeable too. 

She boarded the jet behind Alex, the woman taking a seat next to Hotch at the table, the only other seat left being next to Reid, who stopped midway through what he was saying.

“It’s difficult to lure most people from the security of their own homes, eighty four percent of stalking victims have some sort of original connection with their stalkers, meaning-” He paused, and so did she for a fraction of a second, debating whether to sit beside him. She straightened quickly, dipping her head down and looking to the floor, and bristling past the empty seat to sit herself next to JJ on the couch. 

He cleared his throat, trying to look like his face hadn’t dropped in hurt, and continued.

Hotch and JJ exchanged a look, the same silent message reading clear in their eyes. 

The blonde looked up from her file as the others chatted, Penelope piping up from their computer, and glanced at the younger woman who was unpacking her things on her lap, despite there being a perfectly good table next to them. 

“You alright, Bug?” JJ asked, trying not to seem too worried, yet she knew she was coming off troubled by the tense behaviour from the pair of them.  

It had been three weeks of this, the silences, the uncomfortable pauses, the avoiding each other at all costs. The only time they ever really spoke was on a case, when they were closing in on an UnSub and their feelings had to be put to one side for the moment. Well, her feelings. Because all of his feelings were occupied as of the moment. With Maeve. 

She couldn’t stomach talking about the woman anymore, couldn’t stand Derek’s teasing remarks about how lover boy was getting lucky, or Penelope’s thousands and one questions about the geneticist that she knew had come from a place of care, or Alex’s motherly guidance on his love life. The entire thing made her feel queasy, and she stayed quiet most days in the way he’d always hated, the way he’d always tried to pry her out of. 

But nowadays he didn’t bother. Didn’t bother much with her at all, really. 

“Yep,” Bugsy said, her lips tight, “Peachy,” 

JJ knew not to ask any more than that. 

–

Human marionettes were a first for her, she had to admit. They had already found two victims stuffed into boxes with craft paper surrounding them, their limbs almost entirely broken out of their sockets ante-mortem. It was a time sensitive case, with two deaths in three days and no sign of slowing down, and so that meant that of course the two brains of the team were assigned together, even if Hotch saw the way her face dropped when he’d said it. 

She was drawing the geographical profile on the board, the squeaking of the marker against the screen the only sound in the room aside from Spencer’s flicking of pages. 

“Did you get the first dump site?” He asked, even though he knew she more than likely would have done. 

“Mhm,” She said, not bothering to actually say anything, because it was a stupid question she knew he was only asking to fill the awkward silence between them. 

“What about the store that sold the outfits, did you get-” He started, only for her to cut him off with a clipped tone. 

“Got it, and I got the radius around the store, and I got the second dumpsite.” Bugsy replied, capping the lid to the marker pen and setting it down on the desk beside him, “I’m going to get coffee. Want one?” 

Though she didn’t stick around long enough to really hear his response. She simply waltzed out of the room to the tiny kitchenette the police station had to offer, in search of anything that would keep her occupied and away from snapping at him. 

What had she really got to be mad at him for? For getting a girlfriend? For rubbing it in everyone's face how happy she made him, how perfectly suited she was for him? Except she didn’t think that last one was necessarily true, it just felt that way because it cut her so deep to hear about the girl who was everything she wanted to be. She had no right to be mad at him for anything except being distant with her since she got back from London. 

She still made him a coffee half heartedly, swirling in a tonne of sugar the way she knew he would like, because he never changed being so perfectly him in the time she was away. 

She used to tell him he didn’t need all that sugar because he was sweet enough as he was, because it was true. He used to be entirely honeyed and saccharine when he spoke to her, now she was lucky if she got a full good morning. 

Bugsy bit her lip to stop it from quivering, and took the mugs back to the tiny office they were stationed in, seeing Alex at the door and hearing half their conversation.

“Is this about, uh, phone booth girl?” Blake asked, and Bugsy wanted to snap because what else would they be talking about. Her name was Maeve, she wanted to snarl, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve, Queen of the Fairies and of Spencer’s heart, Maeve, Maeve, Maeve. 

She never hated a name so viscerally, though she knew in deep down it wasn’t her fault. Maeve didn’t do anything wrong, she just fell in love with Dr Spencer Reid and his charms. She couldn’t blame her, really. It wasn’t difficult to do so. 

“She wants to meet,” Spencer’s voice was soft and nervous, and it was the most she’d heard him talk all day. 

Bugsy froze, and Alex’s jaw dropped, “Wait, you guys have never met?” She saw Spencer shake his head just before she rounded the corner back into the office, feeling like she was intruding immediately, “Aren’t you curious what she looks like?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter what she looks like, she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me,” She stopped at the doorway, feeling like she’d had the entire cup of hot coffee dumped over her chest in a scalding pain the minute she’d heard it. 

Spencer called her beautiful many, many times before, both when she’d been done up to the nines and even when she was running away from a damn wedding in the middle of a storm and she looked like a sewer rat. 

But that didn’t matter, because everything about Maeve was beautiful to him, and that was where she seemed to draw the short straw. Because who would find her selfishness beautiful? Or her spoiled nature, or how she could be so crass and rude she had been in more fights before she started the BAU than she’d care to admit. But Maeve was nothing like that. She was sweet and gentle and beautiful on the inside. 

Bugsy plonked his coffee down harder than she’d wanted to, and he thanked her, pausing for a second as he looked between Alex and Bugsy, the second woman now sipping her steaming coffee freely and pinning maps to an adjacent board as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He said, fiddling with his sleeves, “I mean; I slouch, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked,” 

“Your hair’s fine,” Alex combats back, watching the girl down her drink in a few sips, “Jesus, do you have asbestos in your throat?” 

Bugsy turned to her and shrugged silently, “I’m tired, I needed the caffeine,” 

Alex watched her with a hesitant eye, as if she was keeping just as close an eye on her as Jennifer but didn’t want to say, before she stepped away from the doorway, “Alright, I gotta run. You kids update us if you find something out.” 

And with that Blake took her leave, leaving the room in silence for a moment, and Bugsy heard Spencer thinking too loud with that big brain of his. 

She sighed, tacking a map of the city up next to the other one with points of interest noted on, “You’ll be fine,” She said after a minute, and he froze. 

“I’m sorry?” He asked, formally like she asked to sit next to him on the bus or to squeeze past him in a store. 

“I said you’ll be just fine on your date with Maeve,” She reiterated, using a purple sharpie to start drawing the routes the victims took to work. 

Spencer sighed, shuffling papers around his desk, “How can you be so sure?” 

She looked at him then, properly looked at him and he felt his breath almost catch. He’d been telling another one of his half truth’s earlier, because he couldn’t very well say just how many night’s he’d thought about Bugsy being all over him, about kissing her and sweeping her off her feet, about squeezing her close to him in a passionate embrace and never letting her slip away again. He thought about all the times she professed how much she loved him and how good a friend he was to her, and how happy she made him, and how he had spent the first year of knowing her getting to know her for that big brain of hers that rivalled his own. 

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he couldn’t have her. He could have Maeve though. He could meet her and fall in love with her and marry her. He could do it. But she still wouldn’t be her. 

She smiled at him like she had a secret, one she was willing to share with him, one that came at a cost but she would give it to him anyway because it was him and she was so good to him and deserved so much better. 

“What’s not to like about you, Spencer?” She said softly, her expression that of a street dog looking for scraps.

He swore he shuddered when she said his name like that, but he tried a smile back at her anyway. But it was too late, she’d already turned away to continue plotting the points on the map. 

Spencer felt his chest swell in a way Maeve had never gotten it to do.

–

He felt stupid. Half an hour of primping himself in the BAU bathroom, worrying and fussing over what he was wearing and if his hair sat right and if his face looked too skinny, he had made it to the restaurant only to baulk at the last minute when he’d seen a guy in a booth flicking his head to look back at where he was sat in a window seat, a red rose potted in the middle of the table and an empty chair across from him. 

He had panicked and called Maeve, told her to go home because her stalker was there at the restaurant, and she had done just that with little to no question. Only for him to see, minutes later, the guy he thought was her stalker being approached by another guy and he realised he had likely been looking out the window to check for taxi’s parking outside the restaurant. 

Spencer had blown it, the one chance he had at meeting her in person, and he felt more like an idiot than ever. 

He didn’t care about the weird rift between them at that moment, he just wanted to see Bugsy, because she always seemed to know what to say to make him feel better. Like she had a talent for it, even when he had not been the best friend himself. 

He knew he had to fix it, knew it didn’t matter if it was a little unethical to be on the cusp of having a girlfriend whilst also pining after his best friend, he didn’t care. He wanted to set things right with her just to have his best friend back. 

He walked up to her apartment complex, the excuse already brewing in his head that he missed Nico and Sergio, that he maybe missed her a whole lot too but he knew the cats were a sweetened deal way of getting him through the door. Because she would never say no to him seeing the boys. 

And then he would tell her, that he’d been an asshole the past few weeks, that he’d been struggling to understand how to balance time between her and his almost girlfriend, because that was a much better half truth than the fact he was trying to bury his feelings for her so deep they couldn’t see the light of day or else his life would be entirely ruined. 

That’s exactly what he would say.

Spencer felt a little better than he had leaving the restaurant knowing he’d messed up his chance. In all honesty, he was excited to have Bugsy back, even if his night wasn’t exactly going to plan. 

He waltzed up the stairs he’d been on a million times. She loved his apartment, she always said so, but he insisted her TV was bigger and so they usually stayed at hers to watch Dr Who when the newest episodes came out. 

Spencer hesitated for a second, hoping his plan worked before he rapped on the door with boney knuckles, his hand fingering the strap of his bag nervously as he heard her moving behind the door. 

“One second!” She called, and he chuckled, she had probably fallen asleep on the sofa without pants on, or maybe even just gotten out the shower, either way he heard her scrambling to get clothes on and then-

She swung the door open, and his eyes quickly dropped to her neck that had a long row of hickeys trailing down to her collar bone. His small smile at seeing her vanished like one of those magic tricks he liked to do, and he realised her lip gloss was smudged over her chin, her shirt definitely wasn’t her own and he didn’t actually think she had even bothered to put on underwear beneath the large band tee she’d clearly thrown on in the middle of passion. 

Bugsy looked like she’d seen a ghost. 

“Spencer!” She said, her voice choked up like she was exhausted, and he felt his stomach turn. He looked away from her, like he couldn’t stand to even look at her, “I thought you were with Maeve- yo-your date,”

“I had to cancel, it wasn’t safe,” He murmured, tugging the strap of the bag tighter around his shoulder. 

He felt like a complete loser. More than he ever had being shoved into lockers, being dipped into toilet water, being led around by the librarian and her damn butterscotch. 

Spencer felt like his chest was caving in, which he knew was fair on no one to admit, but it was true. 

“Are you okay?” She asked immediately, scanning him over for wounds, “Are you hurt- Is Maeve okay?”

He opened his mouth to reply when he heard foot steps and a hand appeared around her waist, tugging her into a muscled body as the door opened wider. 

“Who is it, babe?” A deep voice spoke, and Spencer felt his face go green when he saw the adonis of a man who stood behind her, his chest littered with smudged lip gloss and bruises resembling her own neck trailing down to his crotch. 

Her face was on fire when Spencer looked back at her, something betrayed in the hazel of his eyes which he knew was entirely illicit to feel in the circumstances, but it was true. 

“Fuck off, Renly,” She shoved him back behind the door, looking at Spencer like the friendship between them they were scrambling to salvage hung in the balance with whatever she said next. “You remember Renly, my lab partner at Johns,” 

Spencer nodded, the image of her lips on his pubic bone wouldn’t leave his mind, and he wondered what came after that, “I remember him,” 

She nodded back, and they went silent. 

They’d found themselves back at that stalemate. 

--

TAGLIST:

@release-your-sweets @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions. @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3 @rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist t @theoraekenslover @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @greenvita @busy-buzzing

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #matthew grey gubler x reader

[arminsumi]

when is daddy coming home ?

g. satoru ⋅ fem wife reader

note: WOW i'm so sorry for writing this anyways tagging @satoruhour for no reason except i'm evil 👍 ik we need fluff comfort rn but i had to get out at least one devastating post. anyways. enjoy the suffering!!

warnings — heavy pure angst prepare to suffer and cry more than you already are, implied death, chapter 236 spoilers

playme ♪ oh god it's you i watch tv with / when i wake up i see you with me... as long as i'm here, no one can hurt you

scurrying around the kitchen, there's no free time when you've got a little mouth to feed. and you smile when you see your cute little girl devouring the bowl of steaming food. it's satoru's favorite, he asked you to make it today especially and you don't know why.

an hour goes by. you observe your child drawing a scribbly heart.

" what are you drawing ? " you ask, and she replies with " something for daddy. "

" it looks beautiful. who's that ? "

" that's you. and that's daddy. and that's me. "

" are we inside a heart ? "

" yup ! we're inside daddy's heart, because it has the most space. "

your heart feels a peculiar pang, and you look out the window. how strange, you felt like your whole world caved in for that split second.

" mommy, when is daddy coming home ? " your little girl asks innocently.

" soon, angel. "

you ring his number.

gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now, leave a message — ow !

you remember the day he made this prerecorded messgae. his ow at the end is a reaction to your little girl biting him when she was teething, that was years and years ago now.

the little bell on her bracelet sounds. it's the bracelet that you and gojo wove together in high school; your little one had found it in your memory box and loved it so much that she asked if she could have it as her birthday gift.

that bell chimes as she moves her wrist to color in satoru's eyes with the prettiest blue crayon. and for some reason, it sounds louder than ever; you stare at it. why are tears coming forth?

the tv is playing. the birds are chirping. the world keeps spinning. but your world? it feels like it broke apart. and why? what was this feeling? you felt like... like something devastating has just happened.

you try satoru's phone again, wandering aimlessly into the kitchen. it feels eerily quiet and joyless.

gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now, leave a message — ow !

you try it again.

gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now —

you try it again.

gojo satoru ~

gojo satoru ~

gojo satoru ~

he was mimicking the way you always said his name in high school.

and you start breaking down crying, trying and trying repeatedly as if it would change anything. you don't need someone to knock on your door to tell you he's gone, because you can feel it; his spirit isn't in this world anymore. you and him were completely connected, a string between the two of you that linked your hearts and subconscious no matter the distance between them.

when you look up at the sky, there's an endless blue. but all you really think of when you see that sky is his eyes. when you first met, that was one of the first things you told him.

" your eyes put the skies to shame. "

and he replied with something so cheesy that for some reason made you fall in love with him right there.

" aw. well, you put the angels to shame. "

the food goes cold. in his last moment, when he detached from the world, he was thinking about returning home to you. that's why he had asked you to make his favorite, after all. he thought it would be nice to enjoy such a simple thing after saving the world.

it's funny, even if he would have saved the world, he wouldn't have been able to come home to boast about it to you; because you never knew that side of him.

you never knew he was gojo satoru.

you just knew he was your gojo satoru, your doting husband.

when those eyes stared up at the blue sky for the last time, he thought;

at least i got to say i love you to you this morning, and give you that big kiss. treasure it baby, there will be no more now.

rest well honoured one.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#i'd like to apologize for writing this #angst #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk angst #jjk spoilers #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x fem reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #ow #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 I, CARRION

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: the day of the event has arrived and dazai is second guessing everything, but it's too late for him to back out now.{wordcount: 12k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART FOUR wow guys we're really getting into the meat of the fic now. HAHAH this is the chapter i had to split into two parts, initially it was going to be one big one but then it would've been a whopping 23k words and that's a bit much even for me. i didn't want to cross the 20k realm HAHAHH. anyway, this chapter really was a pleasure to write, the second scene was my favorite but the ending was SOOOO close to usurping it

GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

“Gin-chan, I’m so nervous.” 

You pace around Dazai’s penthouse anxiously, twisting your fingers in front of your body. The event is taking place tomorrow night. You still don’t have an outfit for it—Dazai told you not to worry about it, you’re still worrying about it because what does that even mean? You don’t know what to expect from the event, and Gin is evasive when you ask her about what will happen, just keeps telling you that it’ll be fine as long as you stay with Dazai.

“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Gin says, as she always does, still tapping away at her laptop. Glasses hang off the bridge of her nose and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. You feel a bit ashamed about constantly going on about your nerves when you know damn well she, Dazai and all of the other executives of his company have been working nonstop the past few days trying to finish preparations. “Dazai-san will be with you the whole time, and if he has to talk business, someone will sit with you until he can get back so you’re not feeling awkward.”

Somehow, you think that might be even more awkward because you doubt a random person is going to want to babysit you while Dazai is busy, but you don’t voice your thoughts, instead just withering as you circle the large room for the sixth time in the past five minutes. 

You’ve hardly seen Dazai all week. You don’t really mind, you know he’s swamped with work and you’ve been keeping yourself busy going out cafe hopping and shopping. Gin comes with you when she can, but it’s usually Nakajima Atsushi or Tachihara Michizo that joins you—Gin had introduced you to the two security guards a week ago when she’d been too busy to come with you to a cafe downtown. You don’t mind the company but you can’t help but wonder why Dazai is so insistent that someone comes with you.

Well. You can’t help but wonder about a lot of things, really. You’re pretty certain that Dazai is still hiding something major from you. You don’t know a lot about business, and you especially don’t know anything about his business, but something isn’t right. You’re not stupid and everyone is not as slick as they think themselves to be, you see how tense and anxious people get when you mention him to them, more so than the average worker would be at the mere mention of their boss, and everyone in the entire damn building is armed, even though they clearly try to hide it whenever you’re in the area. 

You and your friends have joked about the uber wealthy before, and how no one above a certain tax bracket obtains their wealth without some sort of blood money; you’re about 99% sure that’s what’s taking place here too, and it would certainly explain all of the secrecy. More so than trade secrets at least, you feel a bit dumb for that to have even been an explanation in your mind. You just don’t know the specifics. You don’t know if you want to know the specifics, you think you’d prefer to remain ignorant because 1) you definitely don’t want to have any sort of culpability, not when you’re on path to graduate school and hopefully a very prestigious job with the government, and 2) … you don’t want to face the reality of what that would mean. 

You like Dazai. More than like him. You’ve been slowly coming to terms with the fact that you really, truly care for him, and if you end up learning the… specifics of his job, then you’re going to be forced into making a decision you don’t want to make: preserving your future and morals or risking them for him. And you’re not going to sit around and claim to be some upstanding, virtuous person. You’re not. But you are ambitious, and you’ve had your mind set on your future since you learned how to pick up a pen and write. You’ve worked your entire life to get where you are now, slaved your way through a prestigious undergraduate school in Japan and spent months preparing for the entrance exams for graduate school, only to what? Throw it all away for some man?

God, you almost feel sick. Distantly, you wonder how awful of a person you must be for the threat to your future success to be the main reason why you’re questioning yourself, and not the fact that it’s very likely that Dazai and his conglomerate have some sort of business with Japan’s underground, maybe even direct dealings with the mafia itself. 

You pause from where you’re pacing around the room, eyes widening a bit as another realization hits you. You had thought it was odd that Dazai and Gin and all of the executives of the conglomerate have been so stressed and anxious over an event that they’re not even hosting, but what if… Your throat spasms a bit as you swallow, wondering if Dazai is about to bring you not to an event hosted by their rival, but to an event hosted by the mafia. You don’t think he would put you in danger like that, you don’t want to think he would put you in danger like that and you wonder if you’re just sending yourself down a spiral of unnecessary paranoia. 

But it doesn’t make sense. Dazai is enamored by you, and you don’t think you’re being conceited by saying that because he has made it abundantly clear. There’s no way he would ever put you in danger like that. Not unless… you feel a bit green remembering his reaction to you saying that you’d go out on your own and stay with your friend the weekend of the event. You could feel the anxiety radiating off of him for a split second before he asked you to come with him. You also remember how he always makes sure someone is with you when you go out, and god, you swear you’re not a conspiracy theorist but nothing is making sense when you look at it through your rose-tinted lenses but looking at it through these lenses. The lenses of a man who is obviously smitten with you, and who might have dealings with the mafia—of course he wouldn’t want you to go out on your own because he’d be scared that you might be targeted as a means to get to him.

Oh, you feel dizzy. What have you gotten yourself into?

“Are you okay?” Gin is looking up at you, brows furrowed in concern. “You look a little sick.”

“I’m fine,” you say, but the words sound pathetic even to your own ears and you know Gin doesn’t believe you from the way she tilts her head to the side to study you.

Luckily, you’re saved by the bell. Literally. 

Your head snaps to the side as the elevator dings, and ordinarily, you would be ecstatic because who else would be coming up to the penthouse besides Dazai and while you’ve certainly missed him over the past week with how busy he’s been, you’re not sure if you’re ready to see him right now with the way your thoughts have just spiraled, because you think you might blurt something out that you can’t take back.

But, for better or for worse, it is not Dazai that enters the penthouse.

“Good morning, ladies,” a familiar voice croons as the elevator doors slide open. Your eyes light up as you whip around, eyes falling upon a face you haven’t seen in almost two weeks. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Albatross!” you say, excited, a smile splitting your face, because yes, even knowing about the possible affiliation with the mafia, you’re still excited to see the blonde—he’s never been anything but sweet to you, and he’s really the only one besides Gin and Chuuya who doesn’t treat you weirdly because of your relationship with Dazai. 

“D’aw, look at it, Lippmann, told you the doll would still remember me,” Albatross grins, dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose as he tosses you a wink and then looks back toward the elevator.

Your gaze follows his, and your eyes fall upon a vaguely familiar person stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse, carrying a few boxes. Pale hair cut into a bob, a pretty, androgynous face, dressed to the nines in a light purple waistcoat and matching pants—where have you seen him before? Wait-

“You’re-!” you begin, eyes wide and lips parting in shock.

“Walter Lippmann,” the man greets you with a kind smile and soft eyes, you feel a bit flustered, you can hardly meet his gaze. “Everybody just calls me Lippmann though.”

You try to speak, but you’re a bit starstruck—the last thing you’d expected was for a movie star to step into the penthouse. You’re looking between Albatross and Gin and then hesitantly back at Lippmann as you try to figure out what’s going on. 

Albatross cackles. “Looks like she’s gotta crush, Lippmann. Better not let the boss find out, he’ll get jealous.”

“Albatross,” you complain, hands flying to cover your hot face. “Not true, I’m just surprised. Am I allowed to be surprised?”

“Yeah, sure, doll, that’s it,” Albatross says, clearly not believing you at all as he throws himself onto the couch next to Gin, looking up at you. “The boss asked us to pick up a dress for you. Go try it on, I’m going to raid his liquor cabinet while you do—if he asks, you better take the blame.”

You see Gin roll her eyes. “You will not raid his liquor cabinet, Albatross,” she says firmly, but the man only winks at her.

You turn your attention back to Lippmann, who’s carrying the dress in a garment bag, a shoe box tucked under his other arm. He gives you a small smile and then motions for you to follow him; you’re still starstruck as you follow him into Dazai’s bedroom, pointedly ignoring the way Albatross snickers. 

You watch as Lippmann hangs the garment bag up on the closet, placing the shoebox down on the bed. He turns toward you after and says, “Try it on and make sure it fits properly. And make sure you like it.”

You nod, lips parting to speak but no words leave your lips. You look up at the garment bag, down to the shoes, and back to Lippmann and then you ask, “How do you… how do you know Dazai?” 

Lippmann gives you another gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You notice, a bit curiously, that he seems to take a moment before he speaks, as if choosing his words carefully. 

“I knew Dazai’s father,” he says after a few seconds. “I work with the Mori Corporation sometimes regarding press and political matters. Like a spokesperson when Dazai is unable to.”

Hm, you think to yourself before nodding, a movie star as a spokesperson for a corporation, that’s a bit odd, isn’t it?

Your brows furrow slightly as you try to fit the new knowledge in with all of the rest you’ve put together over the past few weeks but it’s just another jagged puzzle piece that’s not fitting in anywhere.

“I’m a huge fan of your movies,” you finally tell him, rubbing the back of your neck as you toss him a sheepish smile. “Like, no joke, almost cried when you had your discussion panel for The Good Society three months ago because it was two days before my entrance exam to grad school so I couldn’t go.”

Lippman laughs, pale cheeks flushing as he looks down at the ground before back up at you. “Honestly, you didn’t miss out. The whole panel was a mess, and the AC broke twenty minutes before, so it was ridiculously hot.”

You don’t really know what to say to that, cursing the fact that you are 1) still half dazed on top of 2) already being naturally awkward, but Walter Lippmann is Walter Lippmann, so of course he knows just what to say and do.

He nods to the dress that he hung up on the closet. “Try it on and then give us a show,” he says, winking at you before he makes his way out of Dazai’s bedroom back into the other room with Albatross and Gin.

You sigh when you’re alone again, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what your life has become before you make your way over to the dress. You unzip the garment bag, curious to see what Dazai had picked for you, and your eyes shoot open when you see the red gown within the bag. Smooth and silky, off-the-shoulder, it’s probably the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon; you feel like you shouldn’t even touch it, much less put it on. 

But Lippmann and Albatross and Gin are out there waiting, you can hear them talking through the door, so you force yourself to gingerly pull it off of the hanger, careful to not be too rough with the material. It doesn’t take you too long to get your clothes off and the dress on, but when you do, you can hardly bring yourself to move away from the mirror. 

You look beautiful. You do. The dress is a perfect fit, it compliments your skin, it compliments your hair. You look beautiful, but you feel like a fraud, like a clown in a ball gown, hoping that the beauty of the dress would draw attention from the fact that it’s not meant for someone like you. 

You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at your reflection. Too long, evidently, because you hear a sharp knock at the door and Lippman’s concerned voice asking if you’ve gotten the dress on.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I’m dressed.”

You hear the door to Dazai’s bedroom creak open but you don’t turn to look.

“I think this costs more than my student loans,” you breathe out, staring at yourself in the mirror. You smooth your hands over the silky material, eyes catching the way it clings to you perfectly. “God, where the hell did he get something like this? It’s like it was made for me.”

“Probably was,” Lippmann says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, lips quirked up into a half smile as he tosses you another wink. “Perks of dating one of the richest men in Japan.”

You let out a noise caught between a whimper and a laugh, suddenly feeling very, very out of place.

Lippmann clearly catches your sudden change in attitude and his brows furrow. “Do you not like it?” he asks curiously. “There’s plenty of time for him to send for something else.”

“No, no,” you hurry to say, voice catching. Although you’re unsure how twenty-hour hours constitutes ‘plenty of time’, but you digress. “It’s perfect. It is.”

“What’s the issue then?”

“I just…” you trail off, eyes lingering in the mirror. “I feel silly, I guess. How obvious is it that I’ve never worn anything like this before?” 

“Silly?” Lippmann asks, amused, peeling off the doorframe to make his way over to you. You swallow thickly as he straightens your posture and then uses two fingers to make you raise your chin. “You look stunning. Like a woman who belongs on the arm of the most influential man in Japan… Like a woman who doesn’t need to be on the arm of any man.”

Your face feels a bit hot as you let out a puff of laughter. “Now you’re exaggerating.”

“I certainly am not,” Lippmann says firmly, taking a step back. “You’re only getting in your head. From what Chuuya has told me about you, you’re more than suited to outwit and outclass anyone in attendance at that event.”

Your face feels hotter now, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Flatterer,” you say, but you feel a bit better, chest lighter as your gaze turns back to look at the mirror. “... Do you-”

A sharp whistle from the door draws your attention from Lippmann; there’s a lecherous smile on Albatross’s face as he leans against the frame and looks at you, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. “Damn, if you weren’t the boss’s girl…”

Gin slaps him hard on the back of his head, glaring at him before turning a small smile to you. “You look beautiful,” she says softly. “He’ll be speechless when he sees you tomorrow.”

Your throat feels tight as your lashes flutter, a smile on your lips as you look down at the ground. Even though the concerns of your realizations from before still weigh heavily in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of seeing Dazai tomorrow.

The giddiness is long gone.

You still haven’t gotten dressed.

You’re sitting at the edge of Dazai’s bed in your bra and panties, staring at the wall with your knees pulled to your chest. Your dress is hanging on the closet on the far side of the room, heels sitting on the floor beneath it. You’ve done your makeup and you put your earrings on already—pretty, dangly diamonds that are the most expensive thing you own, the last thing your brother gifted you before he cut you off entirely. You need to be getting dressed, Dazai will be up here any second to pick you up to leave for the event, but you just can’t bring yourself to put the dress on, anxiety eating away at you.

It’s not even because of the realization you’d come to yesterday, it’s because you think you’re about to make a fool out of yourself. Even if you’re wrong about the theory that you might be heading into an event hosted by the mafia and their associates, you’re still heading into an event that’s going to be attended by people who are much wealthier than you, and you already feel out of place and you’re not even there. 

The dress is beautiful, but you think you’ll look like a clown in it, everyone will know that you’re not from the same sector of life as them with a single glance. Lippmann’s words from yesterday are in one ear out the other now that you’re closer to the actual time of the event.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear the bing of the elevator arriving at the penthouse, and you don’t notice Dazai until he pushes open the cracked door to step into the bedroom. And you feel like you should be embarrassed sitting half naked on his bed, rather than being dressed and waiting for him, but you can’t muster it, eyes dragging up from the wall to land on his concerned expression. 

And he’s a sight, you think. He’s so handsome. Absently, you think he might be more handsome than the last time you saw him but you think that’s a bit ridiculous because he hasn’t changed at all. He’s wearing the same long black coat and burgundy scarf, but the sleek, dark suit he wears beneath it is different, more expensive than all of the others that he’s donned the past few months you’ve known him. 

His lips are turned downward as he approaches you, placing a blue box down on his dresser, dark eye soft with concern, and you also can’t help but notice that he still wears the bandages around the upper left side of his face, covering his eye. You want to know what’s beneath them desperately, but you can’t bring yourself to ask, hoping that he’ll show you on his own terms.

He stands in front of you, and you rest your chin on your knees as you stare forward, staring at his abdomen instead of looking up at his face. But he doesn’t let your gaze linger there, bringing his right hand to cup your cheek so he can gently lift your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. You can feel the rough edges of his bandages scraping against your skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch. You try to remind yourself of all of the realizations you’d come to yesterday, tell yourself to not be as at ease with him, at least have some semblance of your guard up, but you fail.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you softly, letting you lean into his touch as he brings his other hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”

And you feel selfish, you realize, as you try to figure out what to tell him. You can’t even fathom the amount of money he spent on your dress and the shoes, and here you are being a baby because you’re self conscious. You don’t even want to reply to him, so you try to turn your face away but he doesn’t let you.

“Tell me,” he says quietly. “I’ll fix it, whatever it is.”

“It’s silly,” you finally breathe out, averting your gaze to the ground as you let your eyes flutter shut, turning your face in his hand to kiss his palm before leaning back into it. “I’m being a baby, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not silly if it has you upset,” Dazai tells you, and he kneels down in front of you to catch your gaze again and briefly, you think it’s absurd that you have such a powerful man at your whims like this, kneeling before you, willing to do anything to make sure that you’re content and happy. It makes your throat swell a bit, those inferior feelings rising back to your chest with a vengeance, because what the hell did you do to deserve this? There’s nothing special about you. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help.”

“I just don’t understand.” 

Oh my god, your voice cracks, you can feel your eyes go a bit misty, and instantly, Dazai’s concerned gaze is narrowing, as if trying to calculate what exactly is the source of your distress so he can remove it, and it only makes you want to cry more because what did you do to deserve all of this? 

If you’re right about all of the assumptions you made the other day, and Dazai is bringing you to this event even though by all means he should not because there’s likely going to be a lot of shady business occurring that could incriminate him and all of the other people at this event, then why? Why would he risk that just for a girl he met a few months ago? You can’t fathom it.

God, you know better than anyone the effects imposter syndrome can have on a person in school, but the last thing you expected was to be dealing with it in love too.

Love, the word makes your stomach churn because you do love him, you realize, as he stares up at you desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it. And how scary is that, considering only twenty-four hours ago you came to the realization that he’s very likely involved in the underground, in some way or another, and you had to come to terms with the fact that you’d have to choose between your future and a man. But he’s not just a man, he’s a man that you love in spite of everything you’ve put together.

A tear spills over your cheek and Dazai’s gaze becomes alarmed as he instantly wipes it away with his thumb before caressing your cheek gently. 

“What don’t you understand?” he presses quietly. “Talk to me.”

Where do you fucking start?

You want to cry even more but you force yourself not to, you can’t afford to let your makeup get anymore messed up than it already is. Instead you sniffle a bit and try to blink away the tears. 

“This,” you finally say, and your voice cracks again, you take a wet breath. Dazai’s lips part a bit, as if he wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say, brows furrowing. “There’s nothing special about me, Dazai, and I don’t understand why you’ve gone to the lengths that you have for me. Meeting me at that club every Friday as if you’re not always swamped with work, indulging me whenever I want to do things. You gave me a place to stay after only knowing me for a few weeks, gave up your own room, your own bed, so I could be comfortable while you slept at your desk. You’ve made sure people are always with me so I never get bored or lonely. You’ve given me literally everything I could possibly ask for and I’ve just been freeloading off of you for two and a half weeks now. Now, I’m going to go with you to this event and end up embarrassing you because I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else there. They’ll know I don’t belong there and I just-”

You cut yourself off, and you want to avert your gaze from Dazai’s but you can’t bring yourself to. Instead, you watch as something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. He takes one of your hands into his and brings it up to his lips, eye sliding shut for a moment as he kisses your knuckles. You let out a shaky puff of air as his lips linger for a moment before he looks up at you again through his lashes.

“Let me help you get dressed,” he murmurs, and you look down at the ground now as you nod, letting him help you to your feet and lead you over to where the dress is hanging up on the closet door.

He pulls it off the hanger and guides you into it, pulling it up and adjusting it so that it covers you properly. He steps behind you, and you realize that he also has you standing in front of the floor length mirror set up on his closet door. You sniffle a bit again as you look at yourself in the mirror. 

Your makeup looks a bit smudged beneath your eye from the tears gathering at your lash line, but somehow, you still look beautiful. You think it’s only because of the dress, the way it clings to your body so nicely and brightens all of your features. You take in another shuddered gulp of air when you feel Dazai begin to zip up the back of your dress slowly, each brush of his fingers against your skin lights your nerves on fire, and once he finally has it zipped to the top, he kisses the nape of your neck, hands falling to your hips to caress them gently. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean back against him, his comforting hold settling your turbulent emotions.

“I met you at the club every Friday because you were the only relief I had from reality,” he finally says, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds you. “I indulged your requests because I was indulging in you myself. Every moment I spent with you, I allowed myself to be Dazai Osamu, the person, and not the… Not what I’ve had to become to keep this organization running.”

Your breath catches, lips parting at his words but no sound escapes them. He kisses the nape of your neck one last time before he moves to stand in front of you, kneeling down again as he grabs one of your heels and undos the buckle. You watch with bated breath as he lifts your left foot from the ground to kiss your ankle before sliding the heel on, deft fingers fasting the clasp. 

“I gave you a place to stay because I was selfish and I wanted you around more,” he sighs, resting his forehead against your knee now as he lingers there for a moment before moving on to repeat the process with your other foot, kissing your ankle and slipping the heel on. He continues, “Likewise, I have kept you surrounded by people because I have been desperately afraid that you’re going to get bored and want to leave because work leaves me little time to be around. Unfortunately, I’m not the generous person you’re making me out to be, I’m horribly self-serving and greedy, especially when it comes to you.”

He looks up at you now from where he’s kneeling in front of you, gaze searching your face. You want to reach out and cup his cheek, so you do, and immediately, he’s turning his face to kiss your palm just as you’d done to him before letting his eye slide shut as he leans into your touch, as if basking in it.

“I would give you anything you want,” he admits softly, keeping his gaze shut as he holds your palm against his face. “Anything. And if it was something outside of my reach, I would make it in my reach. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, no lengths I wouldn’t go to and no lines I wouldn’t cross.”

You think your lungs might be burning, you don’t think you can breathe as you stare down at him, heart thudding in your swelling chest, tears building in your eyes again but this time not out of insecurity. Dazai finally rises to his feet after placing one last kiss upon your knuckles, and he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to the dresser where he’d placed the blue box. 

You don’t move, watching as he opens it and pulls something out before making his way back over to you, standing behind you. He looks at you through the mirror as he lifts his hands to place a glittering diamond necklace upon your collarbone. You can’t breathe again, you realize, it’s cool against your skin and you think it might be the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon, dozens upon dozens of white diamonds shimmering in the mirror in front of you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he clasps it onto you. 

“You are beautiful,” he says, voice so raw that you almost shiver at the intensity of it. His fingers brush your hips as if he’s afraid to touch you. “You are beautiful, and intelligent, and everything I have ever wanted. You deserve so much more than me, more than you’ll ever be able to understand, and I’m sorry that I’m not a good enough man to do what’s right and let you go. The last thing you should ever be doubting is this.”

His eye slides shut again as he lets out a soft puff of air, the warmth fans across the back of your neck and you think you could spend forever in this moment with him, wishing that you could freeze time. 

“You said that you thought it was fate that brought us together,” he finally finishes, voice quiet as he references what you told him the first time you met. “Don’t ever doubt your place with me. Wherever I am, you belong, whether it’s a club, or an apartment, or an event.”

“I thought you hate the idea of fate,” you say, voice a bit choked as you try to force the tears back again.

“I do,” he affirms, “but if fate brought us together, then far be it from me to deny the one thing in this world that has ever made me happy.”

You love him.

You feel sick to your stomach—be it from butterflies or the implications of the realization. The words threaten to burst from your lips but you swallow them, instead, another tear trails down your face and he sees it through the mirror, lifting his hand to wipe it away before leaning a bit over your shoulder to press his lips to your jaw.

“I’m ruining my makeup,” you rasp, letting out another shaky breath.

He smiles against your skin.

“You’ll be beautiful still,” he murmurs before pulling back, admiring you for a moment before he asks: “Are you ready to go?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you say, a bit breathless. “I’m ready.”

“Everyone is staring at us.”

You’re not wrong, exactly. As soon as the two of you had entered the room, all attention was sent your way, and though the music was loud enough to drown out most chatter (intentional, of course, so unsavory ears can’t overhear even more unsavory dealings), Dazai couldn’t help but notice the hush that spread through the room at the sight of you. The boss of the Port Mafia with a date on his arm was certainly a sight to behold to all of the rest of the occupants of the event hall,.

“Can you blame them? You look beautiful,” he says, voice laced with a teasing edge that is certainly not matched in his expression. Dazai knew people would be looking at you if he brought you here. Still, he wants to gouge their eyes out. 

His arm tightens around you as he tucks you into his side, cold gaze sweeping across the massive event hall. At least two hundred people are attending Nabokov’s event—an even mixture of pharmaceutical tycoons, technology barons, politicians and mafiosos. 

At first glance, he recognizes four different mafias in attendance. 

Mishima Yukio of the Sun and Steel stands by one of his associates, the president of Mitsubishi Chemical Group; the man’s dark eyes card over Dazai with lazy interest, before his head tilts to the side as he studies you.

Dazai thinks that the Sun and Steel might be the Port Mafia’s only allies in attendance, and even then, allies might be taking it too far. The extent of Dazai’s dealing with Mishima was a general agreement to not encroach the Sun and Steel’s monopoly over the narcotics industry—which Dazai never intended on doing anyway because the industry is far more trouble than it's worth—and an unspoken promise to protect Japan’s underground from foreign mafias. 

Dazai wonders if that unspoken promise still holds or if the Russians have cut a deal with him. 

Nabokov’s Pale Flame, obviously, is in attendance, along with the remnants of Leo Tolstoy’s Three Deaths. Tolstoy himself is sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand as he leans back on the stool, gaze focused on you. Nabokov is off to the left, making his way across the room to greet Dazai, a curious expression on his face. Dazai recognizes Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber sitting near Kitazawa Michihiro of Fuji Electric, one of the Port Mafia’s closest associates; and Dazai thinks that might be a bit foreboding, both because of the presence of the Chinese and the company he’s keeping.

Dostoevsky’s House of the Dead is nowhere to be seen, but Dazai knows that they’re here. Somewhere. He just has to find him—and he will.

More eyes are on you than him, and although that was to be expected, Dazai can’t fight the doubt that suddenly swirls in his chest, wondering if he’d made the right decision. If you hadn’t been on people’s radar already, you definitely are now, and the thought makes him a bit sick to his stomach. He tries to console himself with the fact that this was the lesser of two evils—the mere chance of you being on the radar of any of the mafias in this room, no matter how slim it might be, was not something he could gamble with. There was no way he could let you go out alone and unprotected. People like them, people like him, would jump on the chance to take advantage of the weakness and he couldn’t let that happen. 

But is this really any better? 

He’s thrown you into a pit of snakes, and you’re ignorant to all of the threats around you. His gaze drifts back down to you, catching the way your brows are knit together slightly, the way your lips are pressed in a thin line. There’s an indecipherable look in your eyes as your gaze shifts over the room, and Dazai wonders if you know more than you’re letting on. That’s another scary thought, but he can at least find comfort in it for now because it’ll have you keeping your guard up around these people. He’ll just have to deal with the consequences later.

He dips his head down to your ear, speaking quietly before Nabokov finally reaches him: “Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

The look you shoot at him is nothing short of withering, and Dazai can’t help the smile that curves at the corners of his lips as he lifts his head back up to subtly brush his lips against your temple. He catches sight of movement from the corner of his eye and any softness that might’ve been visible in his expression washes away instantly.

“Dazai,” Nabokov greets, beady eyes flickering between you and Dazai, partially curious about you and partially nervous about Dazai. Dazai tilts his head to the side, becoming increasingly more unamused the longer Nabokov’s gaze lingers on you. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to apologize for not being able to attend our planned meeting a few months ago.”

“So I heard.” Dazai’s voice is short and distant, more focused on the feeling of you tucked into his side than the conversation at hand. He has to force himself to keep his gaze steady on Nabokov, wanting to look down at you, but he contents himself with letting his hand slide down to your hip, rubbing absent circles against the silky material of your dress. 

Nabokov fumbles over Dazai’s clipped response, a bead of sweat gathering at the corner of his forehead. He wishes he could peer into your head and see what you’re thinking, about him, about this, about everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through the night without you realizing who he is, what he is, and that thought scares him because he thinks that maybe he should have been the one to explain it to you, so he could at least try to paint himself in a better light. Although, he’s not sure what sort of light would make anything about him look better.

“Who is this?” Nabokov finally asks, turning his attention toward you. Dazai doesn’t like the way he looks at you, eyes raking over you like you’re a piece of meat.

“My partner.” To Dazai’s credit, his voice is much smoother than the turbulent emotions in his chest would suggest. “Where is your wife, Nabokov?” 

Nabokov doesn’t even respond to the question, laughing loudly. “Never thought I’d see the day you found yourself a lover, Dazai,” he chuckles and then holds his hand out to you. “Vladimir Nabokov.”

You shift a bit to take his hand, but Dazai is faster, lithe fingers wrapping around Nabokov’s wrist in an agonizingly tight grip. Nabokov winces, Dazai’s face is cold as he stares down at the man.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” he warns, keeping his voice low. 

Vladimir Nabokov. Invitation to a Beheading. An ability that grants its user to draw a target into an interdimensional space through physical touch—Dazai isn’t sure what the space entails because no one has ever left it alive.

Nabokov tries to laugh it off, weaker this time as he takes his hand back and shakes out his wrist. “My, Dazai, possessive, aren’t you?”

“Very,” Dazai agrees idly. “Be sure to remember that.”

Nabokov gives him another wavering smile, and Dazai can’t help but wonder how Dostoevsky could have possibly thought anyone would believe the man could head the tripartite alliance of the Pale Flame, Three Deaths, and the House of the Dead. Anyone with half of a brain would know that Dostoevsky is behind their union. Maybe that’s what he wanted, Dazai notes absently as he watches Nabokov’s gaze flicker to the upper left corner of the room. Dazai follows it to where a camera is positioned, encompassing most of the event hall. 

The smile on his lips is nearly as chilly as the air-conditioned room around him.

There you are. 

Dazai’s gaze cuts back to Kouyou, who’s standing a few feet behind you and Dazai with Chuuya, Ace and Piano Man. The woman inclines her head in recognition of his silent order as she fans her face lightly, taking a step away to make a call to Hirotsu, who should be stationed around the building with the rest of the Black Lizards by now, prepared to move in at the first sign of danger.

Nabokov looks as if he’s going to speak again, which inclines Dazai to believe that he’s seeking something out in particular for Dostoevsky, and from the way he keeps glancing at you, Dazai assumes it has to do with you. So as the man's lips waver, eyes darting as he tries to formulate another conversation opener, Dazai speaks before he can get the words out.

“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice cold and clipped as he all but dismisses Nabokov, who flushes a bit, nodding and apologizing before stepping away. 

Dazai realizes that he probably has not prepped you enough for this event, but in his defense, he’s been swamped with his own preparations and how is he supposed to prepare you when he can’t even fully explain all of the dangers? But now, it’s making him anxious, because at some point tonight he’s going to have to step away from you to meet with Nabokov in one of the backrooms, likely with Tolstoy, Cao, and Mishima. Dazai’s executives will have to be there with him, and Tachihara is supposed to slip from the shadows to join you while you wait for his return, but there’s likely going to be at least a good two to three minutes where you’ll be alone until Tachihara can get to you. That’s assuming he doesn’t get caught up on the way over.

He needs to talk to you, at least warn you about the ability users attending the event so you don’t accidentally stumble into a potentially lethal situation without him around.

If he goes to the bar, Tolstoy will take advantage to try to sweep you into a conversation, picking up right where Nabokov left off. If he goes off to the left side of the room, Cao will make his way over to interrupt. If he goes off to the right side of the room, Mishima is there. The only place… Dazai inhales as his gaze focuses on the massive dance floor of the event hall, dozens of couples are spinning around already, and it will be loud enough there for the music to drown out his conversation with you from unwelcome listeners. 

He turns his attention to you, holding his palm up and tucking one arm behind his back as he asks lightly, “May I have this dance?” 

Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, seemingly hyper aware of all of the hungry, curious glances of the other attendants directed your way, but he’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes glitter beneath the chandelier’s lights, and the way your dress clings to your body, and the way a soft smile tugs at your lips. He thinks that even if you hadn’t entered the event on his arm, all of the room’s attention would be on you still, because you’re beautiful, and captivating, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how he managed to pull you in one lifetime, much less all of them. 

You place your hand in his and Dazai guides you across the floor, intent on finding the perfect space. It’s hardly obvious the way that the other people on the dance floor would inch away as the two of you passed by, intent on staying out of Dazai’s way and letting him have whatever space he wants, but you pick up on it, he thinks, seeing the curious look in your eyes as your gaze sweeps around the people around you. He bites back a sigh, because he’s sure that you’re tallying everything up in your head trying to put it all together, and once you get that final puzzle piece, everything will be over.

His chest sinks at the thought of losing you, but he forces it away. He has to focus on the situation at hand because even a single slip up could be fatal—not only for him, but for you too. As soon as he reaches a suitable spot on the dance floor, he tugs you a bit closer to him, hands sliding down to your waist. Your own arms instantly come up to loop around his neck as you look up at him through your lashes and Dazai suddenly feels breathless, vision tunneling and heartbeat stuttering at the way you look at him.

God, how is he supposed to focus with you around? He can hardly concentrate on anything but you. He’s flying too close to the sun. Has been since the moment he met you. Drawing you into his life and keeping you there, now bringing you here, so many gambles, too many gambles… the heat is scorching, and it’s only a matter of time before his wings burn. If he was smart, he’d let you go so that you don’t burn with him, but his fingers only bite deeper into your waist at the thought.

The music is slow, and the two of you sway in tune to it. The other couples give a wide berth, some casting wary looks at Dazai, ones that he’s sure you’re catching. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to start; what does he tell you that doesn’t condemn him? Luckily, he doesn’t have to start the conversation because you do, for better or for worse.

“Was that man the rival that Gin mentioned?” you ask curiously, and Dazai can’t help but notice there’s a strange look in your eyes as you ask it, one that he can’t place.

He hesitates, but then says, “No. He wasn’t. I haven’t seen him yet.”

You hum lightly, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that makes him shiver. But his eyes narrow when he realizes that you don’t look the slightest bit surprised by his answer. 

“You knew that already,” he accuses lightly, and he forces himself to swallow the lump that suddenly forms in his throat because if you figured that out on your own already, what else have you figured out? God, he knew this was risky, you’ve always been ridiculously perceptive—he just needs to get through tonight without you putting everything together, then he’ll be fine.

“I suspected it,” you finally affirm his accusation, gaze searching his face. “He was nervous talking to you. If he was your rival, I’d expect him to be a bit more… assured. And he kept looking up toward a camera, like he knew someone was watching that he’d have to answer to.”

Oh, you did pick up on a lot more than he expected. He doesn’t think that the smile he gives you quite meets his eyes, if the way your brows furrow have anything to say about it, but he distracts you by bringing his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “That’s my girl, always so smart.”

Your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze, a tell tale sign of you being flustered. His lips quirk up into a more genuine smile, hand dropping back down to your waist. He can do this, he tells himself, he just has to be careful, tell you enough to make sure your guard is up and you know to at least some extent that the people in this room aren’t to be trusted.

“There are a lot of ability users in here,” he finally warns, careful to keep his voice low even with the music covering his words. “Do your best to keep your distance from people. I’ll stay with you as much as I can, but I’m going to get pulled away sooner or later. Chuuya or Piano Man will stay with you when they can, and if they’re pulled away, Tachihara is going to come down to stay with you.”

“... That’s why you didn’t let him shake my hand,” you say, realization flashing through your eyes, another puzzle piece fitting behind your eyes and Dazai has to be careful because it’s only a matter of time before you’re given that final piece and everything comes together. “What’s his ability?” 

“... Nothing good,” he answers after a few moments of silence, but you’re not content with that, brows furrowing. He sighs. “No confirmation on it, we only know it’s lethal. Many are in here.”

Your eyes widen and then you look a bit skeptical. “And you think they would use it here? In public?” you ask slowly.

To Dazai’s horror, it is not skepticism tainting your tone, but rather, you’re fishing for information, trying to put more pieces together, and he doesn’t have much choice but to give you answers because he can’t risk you setting your guard down even for a second.

He chooses his words carefully. “... There is little they wouldn’t do to get ahead in our business.”

“Hm,” is all you say in response, something akin to understanding flashing through your eyes and Dazai dreads to know what his answer has just told you. He feels distinctly like he’s playing chess against an opponent he did not anticipate and he’s at a disadvantage because the opponent is you. He can feel your shoulders slump suddenly, an unfamiliar expression crossing over your face; you look tired, as if you’d aged twenty years in a matter of seconds. “What did you get me involved with, Dazai?” 

You say it so softly that Dazai barely hears it himself, and he knows. He knows that you’ve figured something out, he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t want to know what. He wants to evade it as long as possible, because the moment he has to have this conversation with you, he knows he’ll lose you. He can’t think about that now, it’ll throw him off and this is the last place he can allow himself to be thrown off.

Instead, his grip on your waist tightens again, gaze averting down toward the ground. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The words weigh heavy on his tongue, not just an apology for tonight but an apology for accepting your offer for a drink two months ago, knowing he wouldn’t be strong enough to let it be a single night of indulgence; an apology for seeking you out again afterward, knowing that he would be sentencing you to death.

He feels sick. 

What is he doing?

Why are you here?

What has he done?

“Dazai.”

You say his name but Dazai hardly hears you. God, he can feel it happening, where his fingers are pressed against your body, the skin suddenly goes cold and stiff, his surroundings are blurring, the people fading into the background. This isn’t the place. Nabokov. Tolstoy. Mishima. Cao. He can’t lose himself, not now, but his grip on reality is starting to waver, the pages pile around him. 

“Dazai.”

What has he done?

Everything he’s planned for, seven years of careful calculations and planning gone down the drain. How does he even fix this? Can he fix this? His mind races, but he’s not even sure he’s thinking coherent thoughts, trying to ground himself to the present because he needs to stay here, he can figure out how to fix it later, when you’re not in danger but-

His vision swims. Not now. He can see it—he can see you. Still on the ground. Sometimes there’s blood, so much that he can hardly recognize you (but he can, of course, he can always recognize you, even when your body is littered with more gaping wounds than not). Sometimes it looks like you’re sleeping, so much so that Dazai kneels next to you, begging you to wake up (he knows in his heart that it’s futile. he can’t stop himself from trying). His head spins, he loses track of where he is and then-

“Osamu.”

His breath catches, gaze zeroing in on you. You. Alive. Your brows are furrowed in concern, searching his face to try to draw him back to reality. He thinks his grip on your waist must be painful but he can’t bring himself to loosen it at all. He stares at you, still desperately trying to keep himself grounded because although you’ve brought him back mostly, the corners of the pages still linger in the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him again.

“You can’t leave me,” you tell him quietly. “You brought me here. I need you here with me. Don’t go off somewhere I can’t follow.”

Oh.

He lets out a breath, slow and maybe a bit more shaky than he would’ve liked, but he tries to focus on the situation at hand. He loosens his grip on your waist, rubbing a gentle circle over your hip in an apology.

His gaze drifts around the room, Nabokov is in deep conversation with Cao, hardly paying attention to anything going on, but Cao’s sharp, dark eyes are pointed over Nabokov’s shoulder, scanning the dance floor. He’s looking for someone—not Dazai, which is a bit worrying, and he becomes all the more attentive to everyone in the vicinity, trying to make sure none of the Red Chamber’s assassins made it through the security. If any organization would be able to pull it off, it would be them. 

Once he’s decided the coast is clear, he turns his gaze back to the bar. Tolstoy is looking at him—blue eyes sharp, blonde hair hanging in them, a curious expression on his face as he sips at his drink and watches as Dazai dances with you. As soon as Tolstoy notices Dazai has caught him, his lips curl up into a smirk and he raises his drink. Dazai’s expression is cold as he looks away, seeking out Mishima only to find the man nowhere to be found.

Hm.

Chuuya and Kouyou are entertaining idle conversation with two executives of the Sun and Steel, both keeping a sharp eye on where you and Dazai sway on the dance floor. Piano Man is entertaining several politicians, doing a good job at ensuring that none of the other foreign executives get any chance to get their ears. Ace, Dazai notes, is in deep conversation in the shadows with one of the executives of the Three Deaths. 

Interesting.

He finally draws his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he recalls what you’d said to drag him from his spiral.

Osamu,

“You called me Osamu,” he murmurs, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he focuses on that instead, trying to ease himself back into reality. Technically, he’s heard you say his given name before. Well. Not technically. It was never you and it was never him, rather it was vague memories of other yous and other hims, but it was nothing in comparison to hearing you actually say it.

You look embarrassed, averting your gaze. “I didn’t know how to get your attention, I’m s-”

“Say it again,” he whispers, lifting his hand back up to your chin to tilt your face back up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes search yours, watching the way you can hardly hold his gaze. You look hesitant, so he continues with, “Please.”

“... Osamu,” you say again, breathless, and god, Dazai wishes the two of you were anywhere but here. He wants to press you back against his bed, run his lips up and down your body, map out all of your curves with his hand. He wants to watch you come undone on his tongue and on his fingers—he wants you, he wants you more than anything else in the world. Every time he’s tried to take the next step with you the past few weeks, he either got interrupted by work or he ended up getting cold feet, nervous about making a mistake. 

Before his thoughts can spiral even more, the music picks up to a faster paced waltz. Your eyes widen, watching as all of the other couples shift into the respective dance. You look up at him, a bit panicked, clearly not sure what to do, and his lips curl up in amusement, beckoning you to lace your fingers with his to take the stance the other couples were taking.

“I don’t know this da-” you begin, voice hushed.

“Just follow my lead,” he repeats the same words he spoke to you when they entered the hall. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

You exhale, studying his face for a moment before sighing and mimicking the stance the other women took with their partners. He can feel your fingers wavering against his as he interlocks your fingers and he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he tells you, just as the music finally picks up for the dance to start. 

He thinks you’re worried for nothing. You moved smoothly in line with him and in tune with the music, gliding across the dance floor as if you’ve danced with him hundreds of times before, your body so in sync with his that the two of you put all of the other couples to shame. Not that any of them matter, of course, you’re all that Dazai can focus on. Your eyes never leave his, not even for the sparest of moments, and Dazai feels like he’s caught in a trance, lost in your eyes and the feeling of your body so close to his, hyper aware of the way your your hand rests on his shoulder and the way your fingers are wrapped tight around his.

God, there’s something so otherworldly about you. Doesn’t know if it’s heavenly or supernatural, if you’re his angel sent to lead him to salvation or his very own siren singing a sweet melody to lead him to ruin. Doesn’t think he cares either way—salvation, damnation, none of it matters as long as he has you.

“Not so bad, hm?” he murmurs, sweeping you out into a spin before pulling you back to him, closer this time. He can feel your chest brush his and he prays you can’t feel the way he’s lost control of his heart, painfully cognizant of the erratic thumping. His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, holding you close to him. He could stay in this moment forever, surroundings drowning out; all he can see is you, all that matters is you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Not so bad.”

His lips part to respond but he’s interrupted when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, freezing.

“Dazai.”

Dazai stiffens as a familiar voice speaks from behind him, shifting to stand partially in front of you as his gaze cuts to the side to see Mishima’s familiar figure standing a few feet away. Turning to face him, he asks, “Do you need something?”

“I’d like to speak to you before we meet with Tolstoy, Nabokov and Cao.”

Mishima’s voice leaves no room for argument, dark eyes absent of any emotion as he waits for Dazai to follow him. Dazai’s jaw tightens, eyes drifting back to you as he tries to figure out what to do. He can’t leave you here, not with Cao’s hawk-like gaze trained on the dancefloor and Tolstoy waiting for the opportunity to make a move. But he does need to talk to Mishima, have some idea of where he stands with the Sun and Steel before facing all of the foreigners. 

“May I have this dance?” 

Dazai hadn’t even heard Chuuya approach, turning to the side to watch as he holds a hand out toward you expectantly, quick to step in to take Dazai’s place so that you’re not alone. You shoot Dazai a concerned glance, brows furrowing a bit, before you place your hand in Chuuya’s.

Chuuya leads you back onto the dance floor, Dazai’s gaze lingers for a few moments, a bitter feeling spreads through his chest because that should be him, and it’s wholly unfair that he has to deal with all of this unsavory business when he should be spending time with you.

He should just kill them all here and be done with it.

The words ring through his head, echoing, tempting. He inhales and forces himself to look away as you loop your arms around Chuuya’s shoulders, swaying in tune to the slow song playing. He turns his attention back to Mishima, voice cool and expression void of emotion:

“Speak.”

Dancing with Nakahara Chuuya is awkward. Awkward is even being generous. It’s not like he’s a bad dancer—in fact, it’s clear that he’s a very good one. He’s smooth on his feet as he spins you around the dance floor, but he’s so stiff. He’s careful to keep space between the two of you, hands never dipping lower than your sides, lips pressed together. He hardly even looks at you, his attention is more on where Dazai had stepped to the side to speak with the dark-haired man who’d interrupted the two of you, but you’re grateful for it, because it’s giving you a chance to gather your thoughts.

You think Dazai might’ve inadvertently confirmed your suspicions from yesterday. You don’t know who these people are, but there’s no way any ordinary business event would be dangerous enough for Dazai to genuinely worry that someone might kill you in a room crowded with two hundred people. A part of you wonders if it’s just different for ability users, that they’re not scared of committing crimes in public because they have an ability that prevents them from getting caught, but you know you’re just trying to make excuses at this point.

Your gaze drifts back over to the older, light-haired man with dark eyes who’d approached you and Dazai when you walked in. He’s off to the side talking with a Chinese man dressed in a red suit—your gaze lingers, trying to piece together the puzzle in your head desperately, but all of the edges are jagged and confusing, you can’t seem to figure out where they each fit with each other. 

You’d thought maybe that Dazai and his business was somehow affiliated with the mafia, because no one with the amount of money and success that he has gets it cleanly, but now you can’t help but hesitate, reconsidering your original theory. Vladimir Nabokov had been scared of Dazai. And it’s not like you haven’t noticed the effect that Dazai has on people. Whenever you’re around people with him, they get tense and on edge, but it’s different seeing the effect he has on someone who doesn’t even work for him, a foreigner supposed to be one of Dazai’s associates if you understood what he meant about not showing up to a meeting. 

Who are you, Dazai?

You don’t even know if you want to know. You love Dazai. You do. You knew it earlier in the night. You know it now. It’s something you can no longer hide or deny. You remember the concerned look on his face when he saw how upset you were. You can feel the way his lips brushed the nape of your neck as he explained why he kept meeting you at the club, the way he kissed your ankles as he knelt in front of you and told you how he was selfish for keeping you around, how he kissed your palm and leaned into your touch as he promised you anything you want. God, you love him, you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he does; no one has ever spoken to you the way he does. 

You love him, and it scares you because you’re realizing you still don’t know anything about him, not really, and you’re also realizing that there’s a high chance he’s been lying to you about what he does. It scares you even more that your first instinct isn’t to run. Because you should run. This should make you run. He brought you to an event with people so dangerous that he’s afraid they might try to hurt you, or worse, but you don’t want to run, because you’d be running from him and you don’t want to run from him. 

Could you sacrifice everything for him though?

Fuck your morals—everything you’ve worked for, all of the years slaving away to put yourself on the path to success. You’ve told yourself your entire life that it would be all you would focus on, that it would all be worth it in the end. You convinced yourself that maybe if you proved yourself enough, your brother would return to your life; he’d be proud of you and he’d come back to you. You know he’s still out there somewhere, you get letters with no return address every month—the only thing in the envelope is a check with a dubious amount of money, but it’s in his hand writing, so you know it’s him. 

A part of you wants to cry, frustration clawing at your chest: the future you’ve worked so hard for, or love? The question you’ve dreaded since your epiphany yesterday is finally thrown right in front of your face, and you need an answer. The two are mutually exclusive—you will not be able to pursue the career you want with Dazai Osamu, not in the way you want at least. And you don’t want to do all of this work to just end up being another shady politician.

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Your gaze snaps up to Chuuya, who’s suddenly looking at you, and you don’t really know how to respond. 

I’m pretty sure you guys are part of the fucking Mafia and you’re all hiding it from me, but also I don’t want to know if you are because that’s going to force me to make a decision that I don’t want to make so I’d rather live in ignorance. 

“My thoughts are only worth a penny?” You deflect with a grin instead, hoping it meets your eyes.

It doesn’t, evidently, because Chuuya’s eyes narrow a bit, and then he tilts his head to the side and hits you with a more direct: “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just worried,” you finally say, not entirely lying but also not telling the truth. 

“About?” Chuuya presses and you sigh, exhaling a bit.

“He mentioned that there were dangerous people here,” you tell him quietly. “I’m just nervous for when you guys go to your meeting… I’m guessing it’s going to be soon.”

Chuuya’s brows furrow and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes before he speaks again. “You’ll be fine,” he tells you. “We have people all over the event hall, and Tachihara is going to sit with you until you Dazai can get back. Dazai shouldn’t have worried you with all of this. He shouldn’t have even-”

He cuts himself off, jaw tightening, but you know what he’s going to say: he shouldn’t have even brought you here.

“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Chuuya says quietly, and you think he might be talking more to himself than anything else now, but you listen anyway. “He’s always been hard to read but this is…”

He stops speaking out loud, as if he’s realized that you’re there again, and instead he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine. Back at the headquarters before you know it.”

You aren’t so sure.

Your gaze drifts to the side as you watch Nabokov and the Chinese man make their way over to Dazai and the man he’s talking to. The blonde at the bar that Dazai kept looking at also stands up, drink in his hand as walks in the same direction. 

Chuuya spits out a curse under his breath and gives you an apologetic look. Your heart sinks and your throat feels a bit tight—he doesn’t abandon you right away though, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he guides you across the dancefloor to the bar, all the while keeping a keen eye on what’s happening on the other side of the room.

He pulls the barstool out for you, eyes still trained on where Dazai is standing with Kouyou, two men that work for him you haven’t met yet, and the four men you assume are business associates of his. Dazai is looking at you, an indecipherable expression on his face. You’re looking at him, suddenly anxious at the thought of being left alone, a bad feeling sweeping over you. 

“Tachihara will be over here soon,” Chuuya finally says to you, tearing his gaze from his coworkers to look back down at you. He flags down the bartender to order a drink for you. “You’ll be fine. Knowing Dazai, the meeting won’t last long anyway.”

Your shoulders only slump a bit as you nod, thanking the bartender quietly for your drink as he hurries to bring it back to you, taking a sip of it. Chuuya doesn’t say much else—once you’re settled in your seat and have your drink, he squeezes your shoulder before making his way back over to the intimidating group of people standing on the opposite side of the room.

Your gaze meets Dazai’s conflicted one one last time before he’s forced to turn away and disappears down a side hall deeper into the building. You sigh as you twirl your drink around, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the brim of your glass as your eyes twist around the event hall, seeking out Tachihara, or Atsushi, or anyone that works with Dazai because you’re feeling distinctly vulnerable alone. You find none of them. You can feel eyes on you—most you’re sure are harmless curiosity, wanting to know who exactly came in on the arm of Dazai Osamu, but you know some aren’t nearly as harmless, you can feel the hungry stares of vicious opportunists directed at your back and you don’t feel comfortable sitting alone.

You don’t even get five minutes to yourself.

“Is this seat taken?” 

You’re startled by the unfamiliar voice, head snapping to the side. Your gaze focuses on a pretty man with soft features, shoulder-length black hair and gentle purple eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no words leave them, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. He looks harmless enough, but there’s something about him that has you on edge—something simmering beneath the surface of his deceptive eyes that you can’t quite place but you know you don’t like.

“I mean no harm,” he says smoothly, lips curving up into an amiable smile. “I’m an old friend of Dazai’s. I only want to talk.”

An old friend. You don’t buy it, but you don’t want to risk antagonizing him, Dazai’s warning about the many lethal ability users prowling the event ringing through your head. You just hope that Tachihara shows up sooner rather than later as you finally shake your head.

“It’s not taken,” you say quietly, motioning to the stool as you take another generous sip of your drink.

The dark-haired man smiles at you as he takes a seat at the bar next to you, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the lighting of the chandelier. Instantly, you feel like you’ve made a mistake, a chill running down your spine as your eyes meet purple ones that are not quite so gentle anymore. Sharp and shrewd instead. Calculating. Dangerous. 

“Fyodor Dostoevsky. A pleasure, truly.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 3

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 3.3k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, semi-public sex, handjob, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, sub!beomgyu, dom!reader, sub!reader, dom!yeonjun.

A/N: so I have split the chapter into two to get it out faster and to give good time for events to sink in. sorry guys but also not very sorry because i like to torture you lol

"The girl you've been obsessed with for years has invited you to her party but instead of trying to talk to her, you’re hiding in the closet getting jerked off with her right outside. This is why she never gave you the time of day. You’re such a pervert, Beommie." 

"Yes, baby. Whatever you say." Beomgyu breathes heavily, leaning into your touch. He always becomes so pliant once you have his dick in your hand.

"You've got nothing in your brain but sex, huh?" You ask, jerking him off and true to your words, he already looks so dumbed out.

“No.” He answers your rhetorical question, legs buckling when you drag your palm repeatedly over the head of his cock, precum sticking to your skin.  

“Careful, Beommie. Don’t fall.” You laugh, your breath causing goosebumps to erupt along his neck, and he lays his head back to give you more space, silently asking you to kiss his neck, and you do, hearing him let out the prettiest half-moans half-pants. 

“Can I cum?” 

“Hmm.” You pretend to think about it for a few tortuous seconds, letting one of your hands trail under his shirt to play with his nipples. 

“Baby!” He sputters, his nipples are just so sensitive. 

“You can’t. You’ll make a mess and everyone will know what you did. They’ll all know you came all over yourself like a big pervert.” You choose your words specifically to rile him up, feeling his cock twitch in your hand. 

“I don’t care. Just wanna cum.” 

“But she’ll see, baby. She’s going to be disgusted.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t c-care. Just need it.” He’s delirious, too gone to even think about her. Just the way you like him. You know he’s hanging by a thread and any second now he’s actually going to cum, and so regrettably, you let go of him, causing him to yell out. 

“No!” He cries and you immediately cover his mouth with your hand to quiet him. “Hush, Beomgyu! Someone will hear you.” 

“Why?” He cries out when you remove your hand. 

“I told you. I don’t want you to make a mess. You can cum when we get home.” 

It’s a lie, of course. Truthfully, you just wanted to punish him for once again openly salivating over her in front of you. 

“Then let's go home.” 

“Not yet. I wanna get a few drinks first. I’ll get out of the closet first. You wait a bit and come after me. You should probably wait a bit anyway for that to go down.” You grin, glancing at his poor red cock. 

“You’re evil.” 

“I know.” You put his dick back in his pants and zip them up. “Don’t touch yourself.”

You get out of the closet with a huge smile on your face. This evening started horribly with you having to sit beside Beomgyu and watch him tear through Haeun’s clothes with his gaze, openly lusting after her as if he doesn’t care who sees. But once you had enough alcohol in you, you decided to do something about it and whisper in Beomgyu’s ear to follow you to one of the closets. Being the horndog he is, he followed right after, finally interrupting his leering session. 

Okay, maybe getting him to pay attention to you by giving him a handjob at a party wasn’t your proudest moment but you did get him to stop caring about her. Maybe in time you’ll get him to forget about her completely. Maybe he’ll even start looking at you differently, and he’ll realize you’re the one who truly loves him…Oh, who are you kidding? He has been obsessed with her for–

Lost in your thoughts, you smack right into someone, the drinks they were holding spilling all over the both of you. 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I'm such a drunk idiot." You immediately go into apologizing, not wanting to antagonize the person further, but when you look up, instead of an angry frown greeting you, you see him with his head cocked to the side and a grin on his face. "That’s okay, doll."

“Yeonjun!” You gasp, slightly relieved knowing the person isn’t going to fight you, but still horrified at the damage you’ve done to his white shirt.  “Your shirt is all ruined!"

"It's alright. It’s your dress I’m worried about."

You look down at your dress which was equally soaked and now clinging to your body uncomfortably. “Ah, shit. Let's go wash off before the stains will set." 

You drunkenly drag him to the nearest bathroom. Once you’re inside, you turn to him. "Take off your shirt."

“Oh, is this finally happening?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes. “Off.”

"Bossy. I like it." He takes his shirt off and hands it to you, and you bashfully look away from his half-naked body, taking the shirt and running it under water while he grabs a towel and wets it, washing off his stomach, or more accurately–his abs.

Still, you can’t help but to sneak not so subtle glances at him, drawn to the sight, before blushing and looking away when he catches you.

“Like what you see, doll?” He teases, winking at you. 

“Shut up.” You rub his shirt with some soap to get the last of the stain out. 

“I can guarantee you, he doesn’t look like that.” His voice is suddenly so close to you, and you look up to see him right next to you, cornering you between his body and the sink. 

“Stop it.” You put a hand to his chest, which you immediately come to regret as the skin on skin contact makes your treacherous heart flutter. 

“Why? Why are you so hung up on him? The idiot doesn’t even realize how much you love him. He’s too preoccupied with her.” You try to look away at the painful mention of Haeun but Yeonjun gently turns your face back towards him. “Give me a chance to make you forget him.”

“Yeonjun…” 

“Can I?” He leans forward, his face inches from yours. 

Should you really be doing this? Beomgyu had told you to stay away from Yeonjun specifically. He would be very pissed off if he found out that you let him kiss you… but then again, why? Why can’t you kiss Yeonjun? It’s not like you and Beomgyu are together. You’re free to kiss whoever you want, dammit!

‘To hell with it.’ You think, surging forward to close the distance between you and Yeonjun. 

His lips are the softest lips you’ve ever felt. Granted, you only kissed two other boys before, Beomgyu being one of them, but still. He was so confident with it too, guiding you and coaxing you to open up to him, letting him taste you and you him. It was slow, purposeful–so different from Beomgyu’s kisses. 

No. You need to stop thinking about Beomgyu. That was the whole point. Forget Beomgyu. 

“Get off her.” Beomgyu shouts. 

Beomgyu? 

Yeonjun moves away from you, or more accurately is pushed off you. 

“Beomgyu, what are you doing here?” You gasp, horrified at having been caught by him as if you were cheating on him or something. It didn’t help that his reaction made it seem like you are. 

“I was looking for you. I thought I told you to stay away from him.” He hisses, clearly angry which just pisses you off. Whatever fleeting sense of guilt you felt for kissing Yeonjun quickly dissipates in the face of his inexplicable wrath.  

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” You snap back. “And if I want to kiss Yeonjun, I will.” 

“He’s my friend!” He shrieks, as if that means something.

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t like him.” 

Beomgyu reels at that. “You like him?” 

Both boys stare at you expectantly, waiting for your answer, and you stammer under their gaze. “M-maybe I do.” 

Beomgyu’s face hardens and he turns his back on you and walks out the door without another word. 

What? What did you say? 

“Oh no, did I just fuck up?” You fret, moving to run after him, but Yeonjun grabs your hand, stopping you. “No. You stood up for yourself. If he doesn’t want to be with you then he doesn’t get to tell you who you can be with.” 

“You’re right. He’s not my boyfriend.” You try to assert, but quickly lose your confidence. “And now he will never be. He just saw me kissing his friend! That’s like incest!”

Yeonjun bursts out laughing at that. “What? That’s ridiculous. Do you even hear yourself?” 

You want to be mad at him for trivializing how you feel. This is serious! You may have just lost your chance with Beomgyu! This is no laughing matter!

So then why are you laughing like he’s just cracked the funniest joke you’ve ever heard? “Oh my god, you’re right. What am I even thinking? This is stupid.” You huff out between cackles, “I’m so stupid.” 

Yeonjun stops laughing first, gathering you in his arms and waiting for you to calm down. “You’re not stupid. You’re in love.” 

“Yeah.” You confirm, bitterly. 

“And he’s an ungrateful idiot.” 

“Maybe.” You fiddle with your fingers. “But if there is a one percent chance I can be with him, I don’t want to ruin it by having him think I’m fucking his best friend.” 

Yeonjun sighs, stepping back. “Fine, go to him. Explain what happened to him. But for the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake.” 

“I know.” 

______________________________

You scour the party looking for Beomgyu, but you can’t find him anywhere. Did he leave already? Is he that mad? 

You lament your poor choices as you open up another door, stumbling across yet another couple engaged in less than savory activities with the woman spread out on the edge of the bed and the man with his face buried between her legs. 

“Whoops, sorry!” You yelp, knee-jerk reaction to slam the door shut suddenly halted when the man kneeling on the floor turns towards you and you see an all too familiar face. 

Beomgyu?! 

They both stare at you, Haeun with her dress pushed up and Beomgyu with his lips glistening with something you don’t want to think about. He makes eye contact with you before he turns around and presses his face back between her legs. 

That fucking slut. 

You slam the door shut and storm off with another target in mind. When you spot the colorful haired man, you drag him behind you to one of the empty bedrooms you saw earlier. 

"Hey, what’s going on--" You cut Yeonjun off with a kiss which he doesn’t resist much, making use of the unexpected opportunity. But when you separate, he takes the chance to ask, "What happened to Beomgyu?"

"Fuck him. I want you.” You kiss him again, suddenly nervous about what you’re going to ask now that you’re right in front of him. Still, you push through, murmuring against his lips, eyes sealed shut, "Want you to eat me out."

Unfortunately, Yeonjun doesn’t immediately give in as you had been praying he would, and he pulls back to ask you, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You answer, still refusing to open your eyes. But the asshole won’t accept that. 

“Look at me, doll.” He demands, cupping your face in his hands. You take a deep breath before opening them, looking him dead in the eyes. “I want it.” 

"It just seems–"

"Do it, Yeonjun!" You snap then immediately regret it, feeling mortified at the possible rejection. God, you didn’t think this through, did you? Just because he wanted to kiss you, doesn’t mean he wants to eat you out in the middle of a party. He’s not Beomgyu. "Unless you don't want to."

Yeonjun lifts you up and drops you on the bed, the breath whooshing out of you as you make impact with the mattress. You don’t even get the chance to ask him what the hell he’s doing before he spreads your legs and gets between them. "It's my pleasure, doll."

He starts by licking over your panties, and you’re so glad he is easing you through it because even that makes you tingle. His tongue moves up and down your slit in slow, deliberate strokes, turning you on until you’re not sure if your panties are soaked because of your arousal or his saliva. And once it’s completely see-through, he hooks his finger under it, pulling it to the side. 

The first direct touch of his hot tongue against your sensitive pussy has you jolting, your hands shooting out to grab at the sheets. But Yeonjun pulls away for a second, grabbing your hands and putting them on his head.

"You can hold onto my hair, doll." He grins, looking devastatingly handsome, “Pull on it when I do something you like.” 

That’s a dangerous ask because you’re pulling his hair as soon as he puts his mouth on you again. Not that he minds, you can see his smirk as he stares up at you, tongue teasingly swirling around your swollen clit. 

“Don’t tease.” You whimper, holding onto his hair tightly. 

“Why not? You’ve teased me long enough, pretty girl.” He purrs, pressing soft kisses against your pussy while his thumb rubs maddeningly around your entrance. 

“Yeonjun…” You whine, taking your hands away and trying to close your legs, but he pins your legs back down before returning your hands to his hair. “Keep your hands on me. I like it.” 

“Pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."

Beomgyu’s words ricochet inside your skull, tearing up your brain. No. Don’t think about him. He’s in another room with another woman, probably fucking her by now. Focus on the man who actually wants you. 

“Did I lose you?” Yeonjun’s voice cuts through your tortured monologue. 

You look at him, embarrassed at having been caught. 

“Then let me make you forget about him.” He vows, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking on it, making your brain short-circuit. 

“That’s it, doll. Just focus on me.” He flicks his tongue from side to side, causing electricity to shoot up to your belly. 

“Oh god, Yeonjun!” You gasp, pulling at his hair, which just makes him do it with more fervor, alternating between rapid flicks and long languid licks up the entire length of your pussy. You’d be embarrassed by how quickly he builds up your high, if he didn’t look like he was enjoying it so much, moaning into your pussy and staring up at you as if he wants to eat you whole. 

“Feels good?” He smirks, fingers finally breaching your empty pussy. 

“Yes, yes!” You groan, head thrown back as he pumps his fingers inside you, his full lips latching onto your clit once more. 

The feeling of his fingers filling you up, fucking you open, and the unrelenting attack on your clit from his mouth has you teetering on the edge in no time. But then an unwelcome image pops into your brain–Beomgyu with his messy hair and his lips swollen and glistening with arousal–and suddenly it wasn’t Yeonjun between your legs and it wasn’t Haeun Beomgyu was eating out…

No, it was you on the bed and Beomgyu between your legs, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes that seemed to beg you to cum, and you do. You have to bite down on your tongue to stop from screaming his name as you shudder and whine, thighs clamping around Yeonjun’s head. 

Yeonjun. 

You jerk up, orgasm still not quite passed, and blink the haziness away. God, you’re disgusting. 

But Yeonjun has no idea what is going through your head. He has a big smile on his face, proud of himself for making you lose it so easily. 

“You liked that, doll?” He climbs up your body to kiss you, and you hesitantly reciprocate, not wanting him to sense that anything is wrong. But when he starts getting handsy again and you feel his hard cock pressing against you, you quickly push him away. 

"Wait. I can't–I'm sorry.” You stammer nervously. 

“Oh. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I just…” Whatever lie you were thinking of dies on your tongue when you make eye contact with him. You can’t lie to him. “I just need to go home."

“Of course.” He backs away, but you can see the disappointment on his face. “Is it… because of Beomgyu?” 

You don’t reply, but that is all the answer he needed.

___________________________________

Still, he is gentleman enough to take you home. 

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” You tell him for the tenth time, feeling guilty after basically rejecting him. 

“I know. I wanted to.” He reassures you once again, no hint of annoyance in his voice. “I know Beomgyu usually takes you home, but since he’s… occupied, I didn’t want you to walk home alone.”

“Right.” You mumble, staring at the ground as that painful image of Beomgyu between Haeun’s legs flashes in your mind. “Well, thank you… and I’m sorry. I just don’t think I’m ready yet.” 

“Hey,” He walks towards you, propping your chin up with his finger. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything.” 

“I know. I just wish things were different. I wish I wasn’t so pathetically in love with him that it feels wrong to even be with someone else. Which is stupid, I know. Beomgyu and I aren’t–” Your phone rings for the 10th time since you left the party, cutting you off, and you glare at the name flashing on the screen. 

“Beomgyu again?” 

“Yes.” You roll your eyes, silencing it. 

“Answer it.”

You stare at him as if he grew a second head, and he rolls his eyes. “He’s probably worried about you. We left without saying a word to him.” 

Damn it. You guess he’s right. You didn’t even think of that. 

"Hello?" You press the phone to your ear but quickly move it away slightly at the immediate shouting coming from it. 

"Where the fuck are you?" 

"Home." You answer unenthusiastically, which just pisses Beomgyu off more. "You went home by yourself?"

"No, Yeonjun took me home." You elaborate nervously, scared of how he’s going to react, and boy, does he not disappoint. "Well this is just fucking great. I've been looking all over for you, freaked out of my mind that something happened to you and you're back home fucking my friend."

His words reignite your anger all over again. “I didn’t think you’d come up from between her legs long enough to notice.” 

“So you’re getting back at me by fucking him?”

“I didn’t–you know what, Beomgyu. I can't deal with this right now. I'm going to bed."

"I’m not done–" You hang up on him, too exhausted to think about what any of this means. 

"He's not happy, huh?"

"Nope." You sigh. What a fucking terrible night. 

"I don't get him. If he's jealous, why doesn't he just ask you out?"

"He's not jealous. He's just–” Just what? Why is he even acting that way? What is he so angry about? Because you’re ‘fucking’ his friend? So what? “I don't know. It's complicated. We've been messing around and I guess he got annoyed when he saw us kissing."

“Well, are you guys dating?” Yeonjun asks and you almost laugh. “No. Nothing like that. Just… just messing around.”

"Then he has no right to be annoyed." He states simply, and he’s right. He doesn’t, and you can’t make sense of why he is so all you manage is to lamely mumble, "Well, he's protective of me."

To which Yeonjun snorts, "You mean possessive."

Is he? Why would he be? Is it because he is not used to you having a boyfriend before? Not that Yeonjun is your boyfriend.   

"My brain hurts. I need to sleep." You groan, pulling at your hair in frustration before your hands fall to your sides with a slap. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun.” 

“Don’t be.” He reassures you, “I’ll be here when that idiot inevitably does something to completely push you away.”

________________________________

A/N: as always I always love to hear feedback even if it's just how much you'd like to punch gyu lmao. currently i don't know how many parts the remaining plot will be divided into so it could be 2 or 3 more similar sized chapters to this.

just for fun, i'll do a poll every chapter to see if people change their minds on who they want oc to end up with. but i've already decided on what to do so the votes are just for fun

Taglist: @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr

#txt smut #tomorrow x together smut #beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #fem!reader #dom!reader #sub!idol #sub!reader #dom!idol

[ghostofwriting]

Kildare Split Part Four: in another life

Rafe Cameron x reader

Chapter 4: in another life

Note: Here's part four!! I'm still crying over TTPD. Down bad is so incredibly Rafeit's insane. Anyway!! I love you all so much, thank you for reading and being absolutely wonderful. This part covers the smau up until part 26. Good luck soldiers!!

Warnings: none, not edited, angst, swearing, sadness, julio, mentions of drugs, mentions of suicidal ideation.

Word Count:  6,722

Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.

Chapter 4: in another life 

It’s a nightmare. Everything feels off. The walls are caving in. His mouth feels as if he had chewed on cotton balls for the past hour. It’s spinning. He’s lost control of himself and he doesn’t know how he’ll get it back. 

It started because of the thought of them together. Forever. Married. Having kids and living happily ever after clawed and his chest and ate him from the inside out. It was an ugly feeling. He wanted to be happy for her. There was no way he could be. Not when he was so deeply in love with her. Not that he ever stopped. 

It was just one blunt. He stole it from Barry. He was careful not to disturb any of the other drugs he had in there. Careful not to look at them too long. He’s been good. Has been clean for more than two years without any missteps. And here he is high once again. It’s just weed he tells himself. It’s fine. He’s fine. 

They’re about to go onstage when Sofia loses her mind. She goes absolutely ballistic. He’s pulling her off to the side away from prying eyes.

“Stop. Relax. Let me explain.” Everything comes out in a jumble as he’s trying to balance his damn guitar and get her to stop flailing her arms everywhere. 

“There’s no explaining anything. We are over. We are so done, Rafe. Holy shit I cannot believe I put up with your crazy obsession with your friend who by the way you didn’t even date. You’re insane.” 

“Can you calm down for a second?”

“No! For your information Rafe. She doesn’t want you! She’s moved on! And we could have too but no. You’re here still pining over something that doesn’t exist. You are so incredibly disrespectful to me. I have been nothing but supportive of you. And I have put up with so much shit from you so much hatred because what? Did I take you away from her? You chose me! You left her. And now I’m leaving you.” 

“Sofia-“

“The way you have treated me the last couple of months with your album release and hinting that it’s about her? Do you have any idea how that makes me look? How it makes me feel? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh! Sorry! You and her! And barely even yourself, you know how I know?” She looks at him, volcanic ash in her eyes. “Because you’re fucking high right now!”

“Keep your voice down.” He pulls her deeper into the corner they’re standing in.

“Fuck you, Rafe. I loved you. I did. I thought that once she moved on, we would be okay. I was wrong. Do not sabotage this for her. She’s happy. You’re not good enough for her. And not for me.”

She does a 180 and storms off away from backstage and away from him. He looks up and Topper is staring at him from where he stands beside Sarah, her hand is on his arm, a look of concern on her face. He shakes his head at them and turns to the stairs that lead to the stage. He spots Y/N and Julio, they’re talking quietly to each other, he sees her laugh and touch Julio’s face, and he kisses the palm of her hand.

Fuck this. He runs back to the green room. He knows he left it around here somewhere and he knows where the lighters are. He digs through three of Barry’s jackets before he finds the blunt. Barry must have moved it. When he pulls it out, a plastic baggie with four white pills comes up with it. He thinks about putting them back. He wants to put them back. He hears the 5-minute warning, stuffs the baggie in his jeans and runs to find a lighter. 

+++

There’s something off about Rafe. She notices when they begin their second song. He’s swaying more than usual, coming up and singing to her face a little too closely. 

It must be because they’re trying to be friends. And maybe the fight with Sofia. It was pretty nasty the way she went at him. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, the crowd and music drowning them out. Sofia looked upset. She must have cooled off because she’s in the audience standing next to Sarah. Not that their manager would allow her to leave even if she wanted to. It would cause too much speculation online and that’s something they don’t need more of. 

She hasn’t had to protect Julio from how Rafe and her used to act on stage, during their no-talking years, they still put on an act but it was nowhere near the level of how they acted pre-everything. They were pretty heavy on the PDA, without confirming anything of course. It was more like singing into each other's mics while staring longingly into each other’s eyes. A lot of heavy petting, she would drape herself around Rafe, Rafe would swing her around and carry her. They would practically make out on stage every show. They did everything but have sex. It’s no wonder the theories and rumours started. 

Post everything that went down, they tamed it and kept it to their side of the stage unless they were switching over. They didn’t share a mic and looking at each other too long was off-limits. And now, well now, it looks like Rafe wants to sing into her mouth with the way he gets closer and closer. Julio knows about their past and he knows that she would never do anything to hurt him but this is a little much. She doesn’t want to rub anything in his face or make him feel disrespected. She also can’t diss Rafe on stage. They have an act. They’re all best friends and nothing bad has ever happened between them. 

So she plays along. And she sings into his mic, she whips her hair in his face and he sings over her shoulder. They’re closer than they’ve ever been. This should be a fun one to look at online. At some point, her shirt comes off. She’s a little angry at Rafe’s immediate switch-up. She feels that since they’re just figuring out how to be friends, he could give it a rest and not go all out. So her shirt comes off. It got stuck on the mic stand, she got pissed off that it ripped a little and she took it off, throwing it into the crowd. At some point Rafe is not even fully on the stage anymore, he’s lying down looking up at her as he plays his guitar. She’s standing over him, singing into the mic and playing the bass all while wondering what the hell has gotten into him. 

Security is going insane over Rafe hanging off the stage and people are trying to grab his legs. Sarah is diving into the crowd trying to get a shot of what’s happening on stage. She kind of wants the show to be over but at the same time, it’s the most fun she’s had on stage in a while. 

+++

Trying to find their footing after not being friends for three years, that much is clear. One moment he’s trying to make out with her onstage and the next he can barely look at her. It has been a little bit harder than she thought it would be. 

It’s strangely painful. The realization that they can’t go back to how they were before anything happened. She knew it wouldn’t be easy but these awkward silences might kill her. 

She’s sitting between Topper and Rafe, staring directly at Barry’s bored face as Ash explains who kows what. Something about which celebrities and important label heads are coming to tonight’s show. 

She didn’t care about the label heads. One of their most important shows had been the one two days ago. Their friends had all flown in from different places to see them. Now back in the city she calls home, that’s still all that matters. 

Cleo and Pope flew in from New York, John B and JJ had flown in from Hawaii. JJ would be leaving almost immediately after to continue training for the next big surf competition and John B would be staying at Sarah’s. Julio was at her house, she didn’t want him to have to spend the entire day at rehearsals so she told him to come by when he was ready. Ward was around somewhere too, probably with Sarah and John B. Kelce was at his hotel and would be arriving later with Kie after he got her from the airport, the only one that had missed the last show. It was an important show for them because of their people not because of some random celebrity they didn’t know. 

After the show, they would go to one of their favourite bars to celebrate and then she would be off to North Carolina for a week before moving to Madrid for the foreseeable future.

She was so excited to be there a bit before Julio started filming so they could visit his friends and family. 

After Ash is done running them through the guest list, they have some downtime before their private soundcheck and the fan soundcheck. Fan Soundcheck is her favourite because they get to play some deep cuts and answer some fun questions.

They’re standing backstage as one of their stagehands announces they’ll be out in three minutes. They’re standing in a circle making sure that their in-ears are on. Barry and Topper bickering about some random thing.

“Ready, buddy?” She looks at Rafe, her eyebrow raised as Barry laughs. 

“Buddy? Good one.” Topper laughs as Rafe’s face turns red. 

“Okay yeah, I’ll never say that again.”

“Please,” she laughs, “let’s go.” She leads the guys onto the stage as their fans start screaming. 

They play a song right off the bat and then sit down for a few questions. 

Everything is going fine, the mood is great, they’re all vibing with each other on stage, it’s great. Right up until it’s not. 

“Hi, my name is Sammy, my question is for Y/N.” She smiles at the girl and waves. 

“Hi Sammy, I remember you! You saw our last show too,” she speaks into the microphone. 

“Hi! Oh my goodness yes. I drove here from San Francisco after getting tickets last minute.” The girl rambles. “Okay, so I was wondering, what are you most looking forward to doing on your break?” She mulls over the question before answering. 

“I’m going to be semi-moving to Spain for a while so probably just exploring the city.” Sammy nods and thanks her as the mic is passed to the next person.  

Something shifts on stage after that question. She doesn’t know if she missed something or what, but suddenly the mood is tense. Barry’s in between her and Rafe and she can still feel the tension coming off him in waves. 

After the last question, they played one more song and bid the fans goodbye, telling them they would see them in a few hours for the show. 

Barry goes and does whatever Barry does before a show, Rafe storms off and Topper follows him. She looks over at her guitar tech who just shrugs his shoulders and takes her guitar from her. 

She texts Julio asking when he will be getting to the arena. When she doesn’t receive an answer, she sits in the green room, with no idea where the boys are. 

She dozes off for an hour before her phone blows up with texts from Rafe. She opens Julio’s message first, telling her that he would leave her house in an hour. Then she goes to Rafe’s texts, saying something along the lines of needing to talk to her. She sees that she has notifications from Twitter as well and opens those. From Rafe too. 

“I need you”

“Please don’t go”

“Y/N”

What is he doing? They just talked about trying to be friends, she knows about his feelings but he can’t go around blowing up her phone. He’s just sad about Sofia, how could he expect her to stay after he confessed to her that he still had feelings for his ex who wasn’t really his ex? 

She asks him what he’s doing and he asks to meet her. She tells him no, and that it’s too late to d this. Too late in the day, too late because the show is about to start, and too late because she’s going and she doesn’t want him. 

After telling Cleo to haul ass to the arena. Needing to speak to her about the Rafe of it all. She runs to the bus to hide. She doesn’t want to see him so she’ll avoid the arena. 

She doesn’t think about how if he doesn’t find her inside, he’ll look for her on the bus. 

“Y/N?” She hears him call. She’s in her bunk, curtain drawn and holding her breath. He walks closer and stands in front of her bunk. She can see his shadow. 

“I know you’re in there.” She stays quiet still. “Please talk to me.” She sighs, not able to deny him when he sounds so sad. 

She draws the curtain open and meets his eyes. 

“We talked about this.”

“No, we talked about how I would try to be your friend. Not how you’re going to move away with your boyfriend.”

“What did you expect me to do? Sit at home alone for however long the break ends up being?”

“No, I thought we could hang out when we were both home and repair our friendship or whatever.”

“Rafe, I can’t do that. I won’t put my life on hold for you anymore.”

“Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just feel the same way? Why won’t you love me?” 

She’s surprised by his words. For the first time, she looks at him. Takes in his dishevelled appearance, his jittering hands, and the dilation of his pupils. 

“Are you high?” she swings herself off her bed to get as much distance between them as possible. 

“No.” He’s lying. 

“What the fuck Rafe? Why would you do this to yourself?”

“Because I’m fucking sad okay? And I don’t want to feel anything.” She can’t believe he would go down this road again,  after being clean for so long. She can’t believe he would be around her like this. Not when he knows how many bad memories it brings.

“You have to leave. You have to get away from me.”

“Y/N.” His voice cracks.

“No. You know my history, the shit I have been through because of drugs. You know it very well actually. I don’t need to be around your erratic behaviour. It’s triggering, it hurts me.” Her voice is firm. 

“Okay. I’m sorry.” he backs up turning around quickly and storming off the bus. 

She sits back down, her hands slightly shaking. If he’s using again, she doesn't know if she can have him in her life. 

+++

He’s happy Sarah’s the one that finds him. He’s spread out on the floor. The curtain covers him from the fans' curious eyes. The stage is quiet, with only a few people coming and going. The rest of the crew’s at dinner. 

“What are you doing?” She stares from above him.

“Laying.” He mumbles

“Are you not going to come eat dinner?” She points behind her in the direction of the lunch room.

“Not hungry.”

“What’s wrong?

“Sad.” He sees the annoyance at his one-word answers cross her face. 

“Rafe, full sentences please.”

“Y/N told me to go away. That she couldn’t be around me.” She crouches down next to him. 

“I thought you two were trying to be friends?” she questions. 

“I ruined it.” He can feel himself well up. 

“How?”

“By being high.”

“You are not.” she kneels left to him now, grabbing his face roughly and bringing it so his eyes are aligned with hers. 

“I am.” She looks angry at him. He feels tears start to gather. God, why does he make the women he cares most about in his life so upset?

“You can’t be high. You’re an addict.”

“Just weed. Nothing more.”

“I don’t care if it’s just weed. It’s not just weed for you. It’s a slippery slope. You go from weed to forgetting you’re sober, to cocaine.”

“I’m sorry.” The pity in her look makes his stomach twist.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up before the show. You need food and to sober up.”

“I’ll be sad though.” She stands up, extending her hand out for him to take. 

“You’re high and sad, I don’t think it helped.”

“That’s what the cocaine is for.” He jokes, it doesn’t earn him a laugh, just a scowl.

“Don’t even joke about that.”

Maybe he can get drunk after the show, then he’ll forget how sad he is. 

+++

The show goes off without a hitch. They are all smiles, dripping with sweat as they take the final bow of the tour. Tears are prickling her eyes as she looks over at Topper. His smile was big and shining. She looks at Rafe and he’s messing with Barry’s hair, a burst of laughter leaving him as Barry jumps on his back. Barry waves to the crowd as Rafe piggybacks him off. Topper grabs her hand and pulls her off the stage, waving one last time before they can’t be seen anymore. 

Julio waits for her, a huge grin on his face and his arms wide open for her to run into. Once she lets go of him, she hugs Cleo and then Pope, and then she’s tackled by JJ, Kie, and John B. 

“You all killed it!” JJ yells in her ear, making her jolt back. 

“Fucking best show we’ve ever played!” Topper screams, coming up to her and hugging her. Barry joins the hug putting his sweaty arms around them both. Rafe hesitantly joins the group hug. 

“Another successful tour,” he says, his eyes catching hers in the huddle. She smiles softly. 

“Let’s go party!” Kie screams from down the hallway where she’s started to walk away. 

Everyone starts cheering and following her lead. She finds Julio’s hand as they make their way to gather their stuff and leave the arena. 

+++

He spots Julio come in through the back doors of the club, Y/N hanging off his arm, her lips swollen. His eyes soften when he looks at her. He sees how much he loves her, and how he would never hurt her. He would go to the ends of the world for her. And he hates him. He can’t stand that she’s not hanging off his arm. That he’s not the one kissing her against a brick wall outside a sleazy bar. 

Sofia’s gone. They’re done. And he’s hurting for the relationship that he could have had if he had let go of Y/N. Not that he ever could have. It wasn’t in the cards for him. A world where he wasn’t irrevocably in love with her didn’t exist. 

“You okay?” Sarah comes up next to him, planting her hands on the table to steady herself. 

“I’m high again.” He confesses. 

“Rafe, we talked about this.”

“I get that I just can’t stop. Everything hurts.” They look of pity from earlier returns.

“You need to stop.” He looks past her to where Y/N is.

“It’s just weed.”

“You don’t get to do weed. It’s not just weed to you. Slippery slope remember?

“I know.” 

“I’m here for you. I think you need to go back to rehab. Either before you tour or after. It needs to be sooner rather than later.  I’ll drive you there myself.” She offers. 

The idea of going back to rehab irks him. He’s not as bad as he was last time. He has control over it. At least that’s what he tells himself. 

“I don’t know how to be okay watching her be with someone else.” Sarah looks behind her at Y/N with Julio. Her smile lit up the room. Her laugh was music to his ears. 

“You don’t get to break down about this. You made your choice. Let her be happy. you need to focus on staying sober, you heal, and you move on.” 

“How?” He can’t rip his eyes away from the couple. Wishing with everything in him that it was him with her.

“By being her friend, Rafe.��� She pats him on the back. He watches as she follows Topper out the back door where Y/N and Julio had come through earlier. 

Everything he and Sarah talked about flies out the window when Julio of all people see him standing there with a little bag full of who knows what that Barry gave him. Barry’s drunk and high, that’s one of the only reasons he gave it to him. Barry would kill him any other time. 

He’s been toying around with the idea of just doing it. Taking all these pills and getting it over with. 

“You probably shouldn’t take those.” Rafe side glances at him but doesn’t speak.”

“If you’re doing that shit you shouldn’t be around her.” Rafe doesn’t like him and he likes him even less when he tells him if he can or can’t be around Y/N.

“Mind your business.” He barks out.

“This is my business, you know why? Because she’s my business. And she’s a recovering addict too, Rafe. Or did you forget?” He shrugs. 

“Look, I don’t care if you care about your sobriety. But we both know you care about her enough not to risk hers. So if you’re going to do that shit, don’t bring it around her. And stay away from her.” This is the angriest he has ever heard the dark-haired man. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do on my tour with my friends.”  Deep down he knows Julio’s right. Right now he doesn’t care what the man says. He wants to fight him. 

“Do whatever the hell you want with yourself, I’m asking you to please, stay away from Y/N if you’re going to do drugs.”

“So you’re isolating her now too.”

“What does that mean?” Julio looks at him, one eyebrow raised, lips tight.

“You’re going to take her away. You’re taking her away from her family and her friends, to live in a country where she knows nobody. What kind of boyfriend does that?” 

“I’m taking her away from you, right?” 

“Yeah, you are.” The words spill from him before he can even think of denying them. 

“She isn’t anyone’s to take away. She makes her own decisions and she chose to be with me.” Julio saying shit like that makes him feel like he thinks he’s the best option. The best man out there.

“Shut up. You’re not better than me just because you say that stuff.”

“I’m not better than anyone, just let her be.” He doesn’t say anything. Julio stands up.

“You had your chance. Let her go.” He stays quiet. Julio starts to walk away. 

“I can’t.” He sees as Julio’s steps stutter.

“I’m going to fight for her.” 

“There’s nothing left to fight for.” He walks away. Back into her arms. Where he wishes he could be.

+++

The two weeks back home in Kildare were filled with press and interviews. Filled with people asking them when the next album was and when they would be back. He was scheduled to go to rehab after two weeks back home but due to scheduling, they had to move his tour up. Y/N was already in Spain. She spent a bit of time with her family, made sure everything was good and then flew off to Europe, taking his heart with her.

They were okay again, he had explained that he would go to rehab and try to get himself under control again. She told him that she was proud of him and that she wished him all the best. She told him that she wouldn’t be able to make it to his first show but that she would be there for his last. She hugged him goodbye on her last day on the island and told him that he would see her soon. 

The engagement scare still circulated in his brain. He’s so afraid that she would get engaged while she was away and he would truly lose her forever. Whenever he thought about it he felt like throwing up. 

One month. One month and he would see her again. 

+++

She stayed with Julio’s family for three weeks in Madrid before they had to go to Valencia where he had to film. She liked being in Madrid the most because she knew how to get around and she could stay at Julio’s house. In Valencia, they’re staying in a hotel so she doesn’t have the comfort of her things. She’ll go to the set with him most of the time but other times they are such long shoots she’d rather do anything else. She wants to explore but she’s so directionally challenged she’s scared to get lost and never return, her map couldn’t even save her sometimes. 

Julio cooks for her every day, he teaches her how to cook some dishes he learned in his classes, they write songs together, and she runs songs by him which turns into them taking turns serenading each other. They drunkenly kiss under street lights and dance in the rain. She’s never felt happier, ever been so in love. 

A month in and she’s back in Los Angeles where Rafe’s playing his last show. She’s excited to be here for him but she’s counting down the hours until she can go back to Spain. 

When she gets home she checks to see that her house hasn’t been broken into and that all pipes are still in place. Her worst nightmare is returning to a flooded house. It all seems normal, she opens a few windows to air it out. Penny’s back in Spain with Julio so she feels extra alone. 

She texts Rafe that she’s back in town and he texts her back within a minute. 

“Thank you for coming, angel.” She smiles at the nickname and responds,

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

He sees her and his world stops. Her hair is in loose waves and it looks a little longer than when he had last seen her. His heart reaches out to her, begging to be in her presence. Sarah notices him there standing like an idiot and waves him over, the motion grabbing Y/N’s attention. 

“Hey,” he says walking over.

“Hi!” She says putting her arms out to him, she goes on her tippy toes to reach him. 

“How are you?” He asks her, slowly letting go. 

“I’m good! Jetlagg is kicking my ass, but happy to be here! Look at you, rockstar.” She has a wide smile on her face that makes him feel like he’s seeing the sun for the first time.

“Yeah,” he laughs a little, scratching the back of his neck, shy all of a sudden.

“I heard a little rumour that Sofia was around?”

“I invited her to a show, extending a branch and all and we talked but that ship has sailed.”

“Are you on good terms?”

“I think we could be better, but it’s okay, I’m not holding my breath.” She links her arm with his, he looks at where their arms connect and feels like he’s on fire. How is he ever going to get over her?

+++

Rafe is amazing. He’s in a class of his own when he’s up on stage giving the show of a lifetime. It makes her tear up. She can’t help but think how he almost gave this all up when they were younger. She can’t imagine him anywhere but the stage. If he were working for his dad, his star would be caged. She’s so happy she could be a small part of his journey. He deserves the world. 

For the first time since they started talking again, she feels like they can go back to normal. She loves him. She can have her best friend back. 

+++

She doesn’t know how fast everything can fall apart. It’s perfect. Too perfect. She should have known that the other shoe would drop sooner or later. That’s how her life goes. She should have known she couldn’t have everything she wants. Things get ripped away eventually.

Rafe and Topper had mentioned that there were rumours they might have to go on a festival run. She hasn’t heard anything from their manager or their label. She likes the idea of a festival run, it could get them playing in front of people who don’t know who they are and expose them to new crowds.

She misses performing, she knows this would cut her time in Spain short. Much shorter than anticipated. She’s supposed to be there for almost seven months, with a bit of travelling back and forth until Julio finishes filming and they can stay in New York for a while. 

She’s only been here for three months. It’s been so nice to be back with Julio full time, and get to do normal couple things after work. She doesn’t know how she’ll break the news to him. She chooses not to until she knows for sure. 

The peace is short-lived. 

“What is this?” Julio holds up the phone for her to take. She grabs his phone and looks at Boston Calling’s festival lineup. She reads trying to see what he’s talking about and finally finds what he’s asking about. Saturday, May 8th: Kildare Split B stage. 

“I promise I didn’t know anything about this.” She tries to reassure him.

“That’s in two weeks.” He says to her, she feels the emotion in his voice.

“I know. I’ll talk to them.” She gives him his phone back and wraps her arms around him. 

“I’m sorry.” They stay wrapped up in each other, silence overtaking them.

+++

“Ash, no one told me. I just thought I had more time.”

“There’s nothing we can do, we have the contract, you’re expected here.” She slides her hand over her face and sighs. 

“Okay. That’s fine, but I’m leaving right after, no press.”

“Y/N, that’s not the only festival. You’ll be doing stops all spring and summer.” Her stomach drops. 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“I’m sorry. The label will make no exceptions. You have to be here for every show.”

+++

She cries in Julio’s arms about having to leave so soon. He tells her it’s okay and that it’s nothing that they aren’t used to. She hates being used to being so far from him. She already misses him. 

They try to get back to normal for the remainder of the time but something shifts. She can’t quite place it. She doesn’t know if it’s her or if it’s him. It feels off. For the first time since they met, it feels like they’re orbiting around different stars. 

They’re returning to their apartment from lunch with one of his co-stars when her world starts to crack. She knows what he’s thinking before he even says it out loud. His eyes are sad and she can read him. She’s never hated him a day since they met. Not until now. She tries to distract herself, tries changing the subject, she tells him she’s going to shower and get ready for bed. 

In the shower, she tries to scrub away the doubt and rubs at her skin to try and rid herself of the feeling. Impending doom. The world ending. A black hole fiding her universe and destroying it before she can do anything to stop it. 

When she gets out of the shower he’s sitting on the edge of their bed facing her, she’s still trying to avoid it, she kisses his cheek and turns away. He stops her from walking away by grabbing her hand and pulling her towards him. She doesn’t face him. She can’t.

“This is so hard.” His voice comes out hoarse.

“Then don’t do it.” 

“I love you so much it hurts.” It’s not supposed to hurt. He taught her that. 

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

“You said we could get through it. You said that it was nothing we hadn’t done.”

“I know what I said. I thought I could.”

“And now you can’t.” He looks at her, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I wish things could be different.”

“No. No. No. Stop, no, you don’t get to break up with me.” She’s screaming, the tears already spilling from her eyes. She’s never felt so crazy. And her world falls apart. She doesn’t remember a time before her life was him and her.

“Y/N. You know I love you, I would do anything for you, and this is the right thing to do.”

“No. You don’t get to choose what is right for me. I do. And I choose you. I always choose you.”

“It’s not feasible. Being away from you. It hurts too much. It hurts you and it hurts me. I can’t do 

it. My heart breaks every time you leave.”

“I’ll do anything.” Tears fall from his eyes as he gulps.

“Moving here is not realistic for you, you were supposed to be here for way longer and look, you leave in three days. I don’t blame you. It’s everything you’ve worked for and I won’t be the person that holds you back.” She’s sobbing now, she can’t see him over her tears, she’s shaking and desperate to get him to listen. To keep him. 

“I’ll quit the band.” It comes tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop it. she grabs his face and makes him look at her. “I’ll quit.” He looks at her eyes wide. 

“No.”

“Julio, please.”

“You don’t mean that, you’ll resent me and you won’t be happy and it’ll ruin us.”

“I won’t. I promise.” She’d never heard these sounds come out of her body before, so guttural and painful from somewhere deep inside her. 

“You will. You would never ask me to quit acting, would you?”

“No,” she whines, the tears flowing.

“Then how could I ask you to quit your dreams?” He’s right. She knows he is and it fucking hurts. She wants to rip her heart out. She’s never felt pain like this and she wishes she could have never met him. 

That’s not true, the thought of never having him in her life hurts. No matter how painful this moment is, the realization that their relationship is over is, she would never take back the years she spent with him. He showed her what it meant to be loved. How it felt to be seen and wanted. He taught her selflessness in love. She would never take it back. She needs to numb the pain. 

She falls into his arms, her face on his chest as she cries and cries. He holds her like he never wants to let go and cries with her. God how she wishes she could live another life. How she wishes they could be other people. In another life, she thinks. In another life. 

He’s what she wants, but she’s not what he needs. Because she’s hurting him. She’s been hurting him and he can’t put up with it anymore. She’s not worth it.

She books her flight for that night. Not wanting to prolong their inevitable goodbye. She watches as he closes the door to his apartment. The last time she’ll be here. They hold hands on the way down to his car and then as he drives her to the airport where he kisses her for the last time. Kisses her goodbye. And she gets on the plane and cries all the way home. The flight attendant keeps bringing her water and the people around her are whispering. She closes the curtains around her pod. Her eyes focus on the sides of the window as the frost builds like little spider webs reaching out to her.

She loves him. She loves him. She can’t believe this.

+++

She gets to her house. Penny next to her. She sets her stuff down next to the door and collapses into a pile of skin, bone, and numbness. Her heart missing. Her heart was somewhere back in Spain with the boy he dragged her out of her isolation and brought her back to life. How could she ever be okay again?

She doesn’t leave her house or her bed until the day she has to be on a flight to Boston. She has about 100 missed calls and a billion unopened text messages. She doesn’t care to talk to anyone. Doesn’t want to explain the breakup. 

+++

She can feel herself isolating. To the way, things were before him. She’s in a room full of people and she feels the most alone she’s ever been. She waves everyone off, not giving them a second glance. She marches on stage, she plays the show with a missing heart. Pretending she’s okay. The band sees right through her, the fans don’t know better. 

Everyone is worried about her. Ash forces her to come out with the band and crew. She’s probably scared she’ll overdose if she’s on her own. All the telltale signs of how she used to be. They’re keeping an eye on her. 

She doesn’t feel like she’s in her body, she’s floating through life right now. She walks out onto the balcony, needing fresh air. 

Everyone’s dancing as she sits on the balcony and stares at the night sky. The wind makes goose bumps rise on her skin. She feels another tear try and escape her eye. She blinks it away before it can. She’s so tired of crying all the time. 

“Hey, you.” Topper steps out into the crisp air. 

“Hey,” she whispers, trying to cover that she’s been crying. 

“You okay?”

“No.”

“It’ll be okay. Sometimes love just doesn’t last. It happens and it’ll pass.”

“We didn’t break up because we didn’t love each other. If the distance didn’t exist I would still be with him. I would choose him over and over again but I was hurting him and in turn, I was hurting myself and neither of us expected or would accept the other quitting their dream jobs to move. So we’re done and it fucking hurts, Top. I saw forever with him. I haven’t felt that way about anyone ever. Part of me thinks that one day, when we’re both settled and not chasing the next best thing, we’ll be together.” She’s choking up, tears spilling over.

“Come here,” he opens his arms to her and she falls into them, “I’m here for you.” she looks over his shoulder to where Rafe is with their friends. 

“For now I just want to drink and cry and sleep for three weeks. I want the pain to stop. I don’t want to feel.” She pulls back from Topper, grabbing his arm and dragging him back inside. 

She would forget. At least for tonight.

+++

Her head pounds in the morning. She would blame all the crying she’s been doing but it’s mostly the alcohol. Cleo would kill her if she knew how much she was drinking again. She opens her eyes and looks around the half-lit room, the morning sun peeking through the curtains. The curtains are on the wrong side of the room. She looks around some more and notices clothes thrown on the floor. Men’s clothes. This isn’t her room. 

She remembers bits of the night before, kissing and touching in the elevator ride, the fight to find his room key, looking into his blue eyes and forgetting the name of the man with the brown eyes. At least for a moment. She blinks as if that would stop the headache.  

“Shit.” She hears from beside her. She slowly turns her head until her eyes meet the blue eyes staring back at her. 

“Top.”

“Fuck.”

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe obx #outerbanks au #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron smau #kildaresplit au

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds part 3 (Final)

Summary : Bucky's betrayal left you deeply wounded, you sought revenge to make him feel the pain he caused. Following your act of retaliation, you distanced yourself from him despite his numerous attempts to apologize. Instead, you found comfort in Sam, and Bucky couldn't ignore the growing closeness, leaving him seething with jealousy.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

General tags : Smut and Groveling

TW: NSFW, 18+, Strong language, Hurt, Comfort, Groveling, Jealous!Bucky, Unprotected Sex, P in V, Hair pulling, Light Spanking, Breeding kink, Overstimulation

Word Count: 14,5k (So yeah... I'm sorry it has to be this long)

A/N : We've reached the end of the story, and I appreciate your enthusiasm and support for this chapter. Apologies if it turned out to be a lengthy fic; I contemplated splitting it into two chapters but couldn't bring myself to do that to you all.

P.S. I'm trying something new with hyperlinks to provide visualizations for certain scenes. I initially wanted to include them for the smut as well, but it didn't align with Tumblr guidelines, so I kept it PG. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the finale!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

A week after that when you were running in the treadmill, you saw Bucky trying to approach you. You ignored him and ran faster. "Y/N... Y/N, please! Let me apologize." Bucky's voice could be heard, but it was drowned out by the music in your ears.

You just kept running. You knew Bucky was trying to apologize. "Can't hear you, music too loud!" You yelled.

He didn't give up and said, "Please just give me 5 minutes.”

"I'm busy.”

"Just five minutes. That's all I ask for."

"No." You pressed a button, and the speed of the treadmill increased. You kept running.

He tried one last time, "Please. Just five minutes."

You ignored him. He got the message.

He stood there, watching you run. You were not paying any attention to him, or even acknowledging his presence. The look on his face was pure sadness. He was not going to give up though. Bucky waited until you finished your run, and then asked, "Hey…”

You ignored him and went out. He followed you.

"Y/N. Wait." He said chasing you before you got into the shower, "Doll. I'm sorry. I fucked up big time. I really am. I was stupid. I wasn't thinking."

You didn’t care, you ignored him and went to the shower, hoping he would leave after you taking a shower, but of course he was waiting for you.

When you got out, he was sitting on the couch. You went out there with nothing but a towel on. "Y/N what are you doing? You're going to get cold." He said.

You rolled your eyes, "What do you think I'm doing, Barnes? I just took a shower. Is there a problem with that?"

He shook his head. "No, but you shouldn't be wearing a towel. You should be dressed. You're going catch a cold." He then averted his eyes from your body and stared at the floor.

"I thought you said I looked good without clothes, Barnes." You smirked. "Is there something wrong?"

He shook his head. "Y/N, put some clothes on."

You then walked toward him and sat on his lap, "Y/N what-"

You cut him off by kissing him passionately. His eyes widened in shock, and then closed as he kissed you back. He was confused as you broke the kiss. You then dropped the towel, exposing your naked body to him. He stared at your breast for a second, before looking into your eyes.

"Y/N," he began to speak but stopped. He was stunned, "Y/N what are you doing right now? Why did you take the towel off?"

"Don't you like me naked? Do you not find me attractive, Bucky?" You asked him with a pouty lip.

"Yes. You're very attractive. Of course. But... We shouldn't."

"Why not? We had sex before, why not now?"

"Because... That was before. But now you are angry at me. I'm not going to do that again. I won't take advantage of you. It's not right."

"Don't worry about it Bucky." You got closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Come on Bucky. I want you. Don't you want me?” You said, moving closer until your lips were inches apart.

He swallowed hard, staring into your eyes. "You're not in your right mind. You're not thinking straight.” He could feel himself getting hard. His resolve was breaking. "Doll, please. You know I want you, but I need to know that are we good? I can't have you and leave. It would kill me."

You smirked at him, "We are good." You said seductively, "For now." You whispered, biting his earlobe gently.

He groaned as his cock hardened at your words. "Doll…” He swallowed hard, looking into your eyes.

"Are you going to give me what I want?" You asked.

"If... If that's what you want. Then, yes."

"Then prove it to me. Kiss me."

He hesitated, but leaned forward and kissed you. His lips were soft and warm. You deepened the kiss, moaning softly as you felt his tongue slip between your parted lips. Your hands moved to his shirt, pulling it off. You threw his shirt on the floor and your hands found their way to his belt. You undid his pants and pulled them down, letting his dick spring out.

You reached for his cock and stroked him slowly. He moaned, bucking his hips forward. "Fuck, doll." He breathed.

"You like that, Buck?" You asked.

He nodded. "Yes, so much."

You then positioned yourself above his cock. "You want this?" You teased him, rubbing his cock against your entrance.

"Fuck, doll." He groaned. "I want this."

You smirked. You then sink down on him slowly, taking in every inch of him. He grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Oh fuck. That's it. Fuck. You feel so good, doll."

You rode him, grinding your hips. "Oh, god." You moaned. He started to thrust into you, groaning. You rode him, picking up the pace. You started riding him as fast as you could. He grunted, his grip on your hips tightening. He started thrusting in and out of you, faster and harder. You were also meeting his thrusts, moaning and whimpering. You pulled his hair, making him moan loudly.

He hit your sweet spot and you were screaming his name. He kept hitting your g-spot. You were getting close. He kept thrusting, faster and harder.

"Fuck, doll. You're so fucking tight. I love how your pussy clenches around me. You're so hot." He pulled your head toward him to kissed you but you denied his lips. You threw your head back, moaning loudly.

"Oh, fuck! Yes! Oh my god!" You screamed, riding him faster. "I'm close. So close."

He reached between your legs, rubbing your clit. You were on the edge, and you needed just a little more to push you over. He rubbed your clit, faster and faster. "Bucky, I'm gonna come!" You cried out.

"Yes, come on my cock. Come for me."

And you came, screaming his name. Your orgasm triggered his. He came, shooting his load inside you. He grunted, thrusting hard. "Holy fuck." He moaned, still thrusting. "You're amazing."

You collapsed onto his chest, panting, wrapping his arms around your waist. Then after you caught your breath, you unwrapped his arms from you and got off him. You rolled your eyes and he was confused. "You didn't let me kiss you earlier, what happened doll? Are you mad at me or something? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, pulling on his boxers and sitting up.

You ignored his questions and stood up, reaching for your scattered clothes. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he pressed, his tone laced with worry.

You smirked at him, "Thanks for that, I needed it." You had taken revenge on using him.

Bucky stood there, stunned and feeling utterly foolish. He couldn't believe he had allowed you to manipulate him like that. "You said we're good..." he protested weakly, his voice filled with hurt and confusion.

Your response was cold and calculated, "Yeah, I said 'we're good for now,' which was then and not right now. So, I got what I needed from you." You didn't spare him a glance as you began to dress, your movements swift. "We're done here." You made a move to leave, but Bucky seized your arms, his grip tight and desperate.

"You're not leaving this room, not until you tell me why the hell you just did that." His eyes pleaded for an explanation, the hurt etched in his features tearing at your resolve. For a fleeting moment, a pang of guilt flickered within you, but you swiftly brushed it aside. "Y/N, stop. You can't just use me for sex," he implored.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you met his gaze head-on. "I can, and I did. Now, let go of me," you retorted, pushing him away with unyielding determination.

His eyes were now full of anger and disbelief. "So all this time, you were just acting? Pretending to be okay with me? Pretending that you've forgiven me? All this time, you didn't actually forgive me?!"

"Ha! Please, when did I said I forgive you? What do you think I am? A fool? You don't get to act like the victim here. It's your fault!” You yelled at him.

"You don't think I know that?! I fucked up, Y/N. I made a mistake and I'm sorry.” Running his hand through his hair. “What the fuck!"

"What do you mean 'what the fuck'? It's what you did to me! You fucked me and threw me out. What's wrong with me doing the same to you?" You scoffed, crossing your arms.

"You can't do that, Y/N…"

"I can't do that? I can't do the exact thing you did to me? That's rich, Barnes." He stayed quiet. He didn't have anything to say because he knew you were right.

"How does it feel, Barnes? Fucking hurt, doesn't it?" You said staring at his face. You wanted him to hurt just like how you did, you wanted to hurt him. He flinched, his jaw clenching. You were glad he was in pain, it gave you satisfaction. You wanted him to suffer.

He stared at you, his blue eyes filled with pain. You ignored it and started walking toward the door.

"Wait! Y/N please. Don't go. Stay." He pleaded as he grabbed your arm, "I... I was a jerk. I was scared and stupid. And... I was a fool, I don't want this to be over…” He said while looking into your eyes with his blue orbs. “Please, Y/N, just let me fix this…”

"I wish it were that simple. But it's not. It's too late. I guess we were doomed from the start." You said and ripped your arm from his grasp. “You don't get to hold me anymore. Don't ever come near me again. I mean it." You said sternly.

He stood there, tears welling up in his eyes, helpless and uncertain, fully aware that he had messed up beyond repair.

You couldn't stand the sight of Bucky, it broke your heart as much you hate to admit it. It took all your self-control not to run into his arms and hug him. But you had to stand your ground, he hurt you and you had to show him how much it affected you.

You turned around and walked away, then you heard glass shattering behind you. You didn't have to look back to know that the mirror had broken. Bucky had punched the mirror in his anger and frustration.

You walked out of the door, slamming it behind you.

And with that, you left him standing there, alone and broken.

Couple weeks after that you avoided Bucky like a plague. You were trying to forget about him and move on with your life. You never look at him and whenever he was near you, you would use every excuse to walk away or leave the room. If you were stuck in a situation where you had to interact with him, you kept it professional and didn't engage in any unnecessary conversation. Your relationship with Bucky had always been strained right from the beginning, making it no surprise to the other Avengers. So, your growing distance and avoidance tactics went unnoticed.

Bucky was trying his best to keep his distance from you, far enough so you would be comfortable but close enough so he could make sure that you were safe. You knew he was still trying to apologize and fix things with you. You didn't understand why he was doing this, his words, his touch, the way he's looking at you. You didn't need his apology, didn't want his sympathy. You didn't need him. Not now.

Every time he saw you, he would always try to catch your eye, but you never looked back. It was a little hard at first, since he had to see you almost every day, but as time went by, you guys had less interaction because of missions.

Now you were allowed back into the mission field and you were craving it. It took your mind off Bucky and it helped you forget about him.

You didn't need him in your life.

You wanted nothing to do with him.

But he wanted everything to do with you.

He was desperate.

You had no room in your life for someone who couldn't decide where you stood. The push and pull was exhausting, the mixed signals maddening. You also have gotten your revenge, you should feel satisfied. But you weren't. Why weren't you happy?

After awhile you were back on your normal self and started to move on, not because you stopped caring, but you didn't feel the constant heartache anymore. You could think about Bucky and not start crying or break into a cold sweat.

Meanwhile, Wanda shared the news that the gifts for Vision had been a success. While you were genuinely happy for them, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy deep down.

One day after a long mission, you were watching TV in the common area when you saw the three musketeers walking towards you. They were laughing and talking. You paid them no attention and just kept watching TV.

Sam was the first to greet you, his friendly smile easing some of the tension within you. "Fancy seeing you here, YN. It's been a while." He settled down beside you, and you scooted over to give him more space, returning his smile.

You smiled, it had been awhile since you saw them, you were actually starting to miss him. You knew it wasn’t their fault what happened between you and Bucky, so you didn't treat him differently.

You were glad to see Sam again, he was the only one that was acting the same around you. Bucky looked over at your direction, and when you saw him you looked away from him.

"Yeah. Been going on missions with Nat." You replied, attempting to keep the conversation casual.

Sam leaned in a bit, "How's that going for you?"

"Really well. I'm learning a lot. Nat is amazing. She taught me some of those moves too. Not as great as hers, but good enough to defend myself," you responded, appreciating the opportunity to share a positive aspect of your life.

"Nice." Sam smiled.

Taking a seat on the chair next to the couch, Steve turned to you with a warm smile. "How are you holding up, Y/N?" Steve asked, you knew he was asking about your emotional well-being.

"Fine," you gave him a little smile.

The room descended into awkward silence. The three men were making an effort to engage in conversation, but your discomfort hung heavy in the air. You didn't want to be mean or rude to them; after all, they had done nothing wrong. But being around Bucky felt almost unbearable, a constant reminder of a painful past.

“We're here for you. If you ever feel like talking, we're all ears." Steve offered gently. "If you want to talk about it, of course. If not, that’s totally fine too."

Bucky tried to intervene, sensing that you were about to share something he might not want to hear. "Steve, don't—"

You felt a surge of frustration, and despite Bucky's warning, you decided to share your pain, partly to hurt him back. "Well, there was this one person," you began.

"Well, there was this one person..” You started, cutting Bucky off. You decided to share your pain, partly to hurt him back, staring at Bucky.

Bucky clenched his jaw and averted his gaze. You saw a flicker of pain in his eyes.

Sam chimed in, "There's always someone.”

"Okay, the truth is that I met a guy." You rolled your eyes, trying to mask your vulnerability with a dismissive tone. "It turns out, he wasn’t the person I thought he was. I thought he liked me, and, well…"

Sam prodded, "Well what?"

"He didn't like me. It was all a joke to him." You paused for dramatic effect, locking eyes with Bucky. "The guy was so cold-hearted, he even admitted that he used me, that I was just a mistake." Your words were pointed, meant to hurt, and your gaze bore into Bucky as you sought to inflict the same pain, he had caused you.

Sam was visibly uncomfortable. Steve's face fell. Bucky stared at the floor, his fists clenched.

"Oh. That's... that's unfortunate. I'm sorry. Are you alright?" Steve asked gently, concern etched in his voice.

"Yes. I'll be fine. It's not the end of the world. I mean, it hurts. But I'll live." You answered.

Sam's expression twisted into a mix of anger and empathy. "That's beyond messed up. If I were there, I would beat him up."

"Yeah," you replied, your tone bitter. "But, don’t worry I already paid him back.”

Bucky looked guilty, his expression mirroring the remorse he felt. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the floor. He stayed silent, stayed silent, fully aware of the pain he had inadvertently caused you.

“Nice! This is why I like you, Y/N!” Sam nodded in understanding. "So, what's your plan now?"

"Moving on," you replied, your voice steady. "I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me sad."

"Good call," Sam said, his tone filled with assurance. "You're amazing, Y/N. Whoever ends up with you will be incredibly lucky. He doesn't deserve your attention. And here's the best part: when you find someone better and move on, he'll be left regretting ever hurting you. That, my friend, is the sweetest revenge."

You nodded, touched by his supportive words. "Thanks, Sam. You're the best."

The atmosphere gradually shifted back to normal as you grabbed a beer to pregame before Tony's party. However, you kept avoiding Bucky's gaze, your responses becoming short and distant.

While Steve was talking with Bucky, Sam leaned closer, his voice low as he whispered into your ear, "Maybe what you ordered worked after all."

You pulled away from him, narrowing your eyes in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Sam smirked knowingly, "You know what I mean," he whispered back, his tone playful and suggestive.

"No, I don't." Your confusion deepened, genuinely puzzled by his words. You hadn't ordered anything, so what was he talking about?

The realization struck you suddenly, and you smacked his thigh in disbelief. "You did not!" The shock in your voice echoed around the room, leaving everyone stunned by your reaction.

Sam laughed heartily, "What? What did I do?" He feigned innocence, grinning mischievously.

"Come on, Sam, stop teasing her," Steve chimed in, giving Sam an amused yet admonishing look.

"I swear, man, I wasn't," Sam protested with a chuckle.

Natasha, always one to read between the lines, chimed in, appearing out of nowhere. "We all know you enjoy teasing the girl."

Sam looked genuinely surprised. "Damn, Nat, can you please not sneak up on me? I almost had a heart attack."

Natasha simply smirked, her response dripping with amusement. "You'll be fine." Her nonchalant remark only fueled the laughter in the room, leaving you momentarily flustered.

You were about to press Sam with more questions, but he managed to divert the conversation, addressing Natasha instead. "When's the party starting, Nat?" His timing seemed convenient, clearly trying to avoid further interrogation.

Natasha checked at her watch and then back at the group, "In about an hour or so, but I need to go now. I have some things to finish."

Ever the gentleman, Sam promptly stood up. "I'll help you, Nat," he offered, his tone earnest.

"That's sweet of you, Sam. Maybe I can find you a girl that likes bird costumes." She joked and the group laughed.

"Funny." Sam said sarcastically, then they walked away.

"Sam!" You called after him, but he continued walking, seemingly ignoring you. Frustration bubbling within, you raised your voice, "Get back here!"

Feeling the heat of embarrassment rise in your cheeks, you huffed in annoyance and sank back into your seat. The room fell into an awkward silence, and you shifted uncomfortably under the watchful gaze of Steve and Bucky.

You met their eyes, "What?" you snapped, but they only exchanged a subtle glance, their expressions unreadable.

Deciding you had had enough, you stood up abruptly. "Alright, I'm going as well. I need to start getting ready," you announced, trying to sound composed despite your frustration.

Bucky made a move to follow you, but Steve quickly caught his arm, holding him back. "No," Steve whispered, his voice barely audible. "Don't, not yet."

Time for the party, it was to celebrate the mission succeed. Tony arrived with Pepper, Wanda, and Vision. Then soon everyone gathered. He was keeping the party small though, only Avengers and close friends. It was a small party though.

In the midst of the party, as people bustled around grabbing food and chatting, you discreetly pulled Sam aside. "Did you know the inside of it?" you whispered.

Sam simply looked at you with a mischievous smile, "Umm no?" Sam teased, his grin widening.

Frustration tugged at you. "Ugh, come on, Sam. Just spill it," you urged.

He chuckled, enjoying your perplexity. "Yes, Y/N, guilty as charged. I was the one who accepted the delivery," he confessed, his tone lighthearted. Your playful annoyance was evident as you lightly hit his chest. "You weren't there. You've been MIA for the past couple of weeks.”

"Oh my god, Sam, you're a dick," you groaned, shaking your head at his antics. "That's rude, you shouldn't snoop around people's packages. It's an invasion of privacy."

"It wasn't on purpose, okay?" Sam defended himself, his grin unyielding. "I can read where it's from, and you don't need to be a genius to guess what's inside. So, yeah, I knew. And you know, it was really interesting to see the stuff you ordered," he teased, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. You just want to dig a hole and bury yourself.

As you both grabbed food together, you shot him a warning glare. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Don't worry, my lips are sealed," he assured, trying to be serious but failing to hide his amusement.

"It better be. If you tell anyone, I will kill you," you growled, half-joking but also dead serious.

"So, any plans with it?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Sam," you warned him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Just saying. It's a very interesting device. It has so many settings and functions. It would make things easier," he continued, unable to resist teasing you further. "I'm sure it would come in handy," Sam chuckled, taking a bite of his food.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, feeling embarrassed. “Shut up," you hissed, wanting to hide and disappear, not knowing what else to say.

“Any guy would love it. If you know what I mean," he added, nudging you playfully and making you blush even more.

"You are making me uncomfortable," you whined, pouting like a child. "I am not talking to you anymore," you mumbled.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “It's perfectly normal. Don't be shy," he said, his words meant to be comforting but the smug smirk on his face was anything but. You groaned, wishing the earth would swallow you up right then and there. Dropping your face in your hands, hiding behind them.

“How did you know it was for me? I could've bought it as a present for a friend or family. And, you can't just accept someone else's package."

"Because you wrote your name on it," Sam pointed out, his expression playful. "You could've used a random name if it was meant to be a secret. And come on, I was the only one there. What was I supposed to tell the delivery guy? 'Hey, this package isn't mine, can you go back to the warehouse, please?'"

Taking a bite of your food, you couldn't help but chuckle at his logic. He had a way of making even the most awkward situations seem amusing.

Sam chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "So, you bought sex toys and lingerie as a present?"

You were about to answer him when Tony dinked the glass and said, "Hello everyone, thanks for coming here." He paused as everyone clapped. "Let's raise our glasses for all of us, may we have a great year." Everyone raised their glass and cheered.

Before everyone drink, Tony stopped us "Not you kid." He pointed at Peter, "You're not allowed to have alcohol, go drink some soda."

"Aww come on, Mr. Stark. I’m not a kid anymore." Peter protested, attempting to sound mature.

"No, and don't complain or I'll kick you out."

“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes but left to grab a soda.

You smiled as you saw Pepper leaning against Tony's side. They looked happy. You couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at their public display of affection. You wanted that with Bucky. You sighed, looking down at the drink in your hand.

You were sitting between Sam and Bruce. Bruce was quiet most of the time and Sam kept talking to you and Bruce. You had fun and the food was great. You didn't really drink that much, you just had two or three drinks.

Across from you, Bucky's glances were hard to ignore. His expression was far from cheerful, but you relished in his irritation. Seizing the opportunity, you continued to emphasize your closeness with Sam, subtly trying to provoke Bucky.

Sam tapped you and leaned in again to whispered, "You still haven't answered my question."

You shot him a playful grin. "Didn't know you were so curious, Sam. Besides, I don't feel obligated to reveal my secrets."

"Touché, Y/N, touché," Sam replied, a smirk playing on his lips. " But come on, humor a man, will you?"

"Alright, how about this? I bought it for a friend," you responded casually. “They're just really shy about it."

Sam raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye, "Oh yeah, and does this friend have a name?"

"They do, but I don't have to tell you everything," you said with a smile.

Sam nodded, and smiled back, "You're right, you don't." You saw Bucky sat in front of you, looking like he was about to kill someone. You smirked on the inside, knowing it was working. "I'll tell you something though, they're pretty lucky to have a friend like you."

"Well, I am the best." You winked at Sam.

He was going to say something when the two of you were interrupted. "I need to talk to you," Bucky growled at Sam.

"I'm in the middle of a conversation, can't it wait?"

"No," Bucky responded, glaring at him.

You knew Bucky was jealous, you could tell by the look in his eyes, and you liked it. You smirked, "Yeah, Barnes. Don't be rude, you're interrupting us."

Bucky looked at you, and he could tell by the look in your eye, that you knew what you were doing, and were enjoying it. He clenched his jaw and staring at you.

Sam smiled, "It's fine, I have to use the bathroom anyway. Talk to you later?"

You nod, smiling at him, "Sure thing, Sam."

He got up, and you watched as he and Bucky walked to the other side of the room, talking quietly. You wished you knew what they were saying, but you had a feeling that it was about you.

"That was interesting," Wanda said, making you look at her.

"What do you mean? It was nothing."

She smirked, "You're an awful liar, and I can tell when you're trying to make a certain someone jealous."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Just a bit." Wanda smiled. "But he deserved it, he was being a dick to you, so you can have a little fun."

"Exactly."

"But remember, don't let it go too far."

You nodded, looking back at them. They were still talking, but Sam had his back to you, so you couldn't see his expression. Then he turned around and walked back towards you.

"Hey, I gotta go. Thanks for the chat, I'll talk to you later."

You smiled and said, "Oh where are you going? We could hang out more."

"I have work to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes, the glamorous life of an Avenger," Sam quipped.

You sighed dramatically, a playful pout forming on your lips. "Fine, have fun saving the world."                  

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Sam winked at you.

You scoffed, "Please, I’m not a child."

"Whatever you say," Sam said, laughing as he walked away.

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sigh, focusing on your drink. It was clear that Bucky had a hand in this – he was the only one with any issue against Sam. But it seemed to work, because as soon as you started talking to Sam, you could see the anger in Bucky's eyes. You ignored him.

As the night wore on, the music grew louder, and the crowds began to dance. It was a great party. You were sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of whiskey. You didn't feel like dancing or partying, you didn't have the energy to do it.

You turned around and caught a glimpse of Steve and Bruce dancing with Wanda and Natasha. Then Bucky came beside you, his eyes focused on something. He was leaning against the counter, his back to you. A sigh escaped your lips, and you rolled your eyes discreetly, wondering why he continued to linger around you.

He finally glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes meeting yours, and he offered you a small smile. Just as you contemplated leaving, Bucky spoke up, "I see you're getting comfortable with Sam."

Not in the mood for an argument, you nonchalantly shrugged and responded, "He's a good friend."

Bucky's voice lowered, and he muttered, "A little too friendly, don't you think?"

You met his intensity with a nonchalant attitude, taking another sip of your whiskey. "So?"

"What do you mean, 'so'?" Bucky's frown deepened. "Can't you see? He's flirting with you and you flirted back. He’s all over you."

"And?"

"Why would you do that?!" He asked.

"I believe that's none of your concern, Barnes." You continued to sip your drink, maintaining your composure.

"I care about you," Bucky said quietly.

You snorted, turning your attention back to your glass.

Bucky shifted in his seat, turning to face you. He placed his hand on top of yours, causing you to flinch. "I mean it, Y/N. And Sam is my friend.”

Then you raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Am I not allowed to be friends with him? I don't have any problem with him."

Bucky's jaw clenched, his frustration boiling over, "Look, Y/N. You and Sam are getting very close. Friends don't do that. Do you know how he looked at you?"

A mischievous glint lit up your eyes as you prodded, "Oh, how is it? Tell me."

"Like he's about to jump you anytime," Bucky replied, his tone tense with disapproval.

"Is that a bad thing, Barnes?" you teased, your smile intentionally provocative, knowing it irked him.

"Of course, it is," Bucky snapped, his patience wearing thin.

You couldn't help but chuckle, finding his jealousy rather entertaining. As Bucky's patience wore thin, he snapped, "This is no laughing matter."

"Sure it is," you retorted, your voice light and teasing. "Why even care? You made it clear that it was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. So, perhaps I’ll fuck him next. It seems like he's interested." Casually, you finished your drink and set the empty glass on the counter. "Thanks for the heads-up." You turned to leave, but his hand shot out to your wrist, stopping you from getting up. Your gaze flickered between the metal hand and his eyes.

"The fuck you won’t." Bucky's voice was low, his expression hard, his jaw clenched tightly. “If he touches you, I’ll break his arm."

Instantly, you yanked your hand away, your eyes narrowing in defiance. "Don't touch me," you warned, your voice sharp with anger, setting a clear boundary against his possessiveness.

Bucky's blue eyes flashed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. "Don’t fucking touch him. Or anyone.” He leaned closer to you, your body tense. “Because, I'm the only one who should touch you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You met his glare head-on. "And why would I do that? So you can break my heart again? No thanks. I'm not a toy that you can play with, and discard when you're bored.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, and grabbed your arms, pushing you against the counter. "No, I don't want to see you with him. You're mine."

With an exasperated sigh, you held his gaze, your patience wearing thin. You didn't want to continue this game of emotional tug-of-war. "Let me remind you, Barnes," you said, your voice steady but firm, "Last I check, we're not boyfriend and girlfriend. You made it very fucking clear that I was a mistake and you used me.”

You attempted to leave, but Bucky's grip on your arm tightened, pulling you closer. His touch sent an electric jolt through you, "Last I check, you belong to me when you were begging and squirming as I fucked you, doll. I can make you forget him, I can fuck you better than him. I'll show you how a man fucks his woman, doll."

His words sent a shiver down your spine and you could feel your core pulsed. Goddamn it, why did he have this effect on you. Despite the undeniable physical reaction, you mentally reinforced your resolve.

“Nope. I learned my lesson. And did you forget about what I said to you? Don’t go near me," you replied nonchalantly. "Now if you'll excuse me." You tugged at your hand, wanting to break free, but he held fast.

He held your hand and pulled you back to him. "No," he said simply.

"Yeah, well, I'm done taking orders from you," you shot back, refusing to back down, though your heart raced in your chest.

"I'm not letting you be with him, Y/N," Bucky asserted, his voice low and possessive.

"That decision isn't yours to make," you declared, avoiding his gaze, aware that meeting his eyes might shatter your resolve.

"Why? What's the problem, Y/N?" he pressed, his frustration evident.

"Are you seriously asking me that?” You glared at him, “YOU'RE THE PROBLEM! YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM BUCKY!" You yelled and his grip loosened, and you pulled away from him. You didn't care that the room had fallen silent, with everyone's attention now focused on your heated exchange. Unfazed by the sudden silence, you continued, "I'm tired of your excuses, your indecision, and your damn games. It's always one step forward and two steps back with you. I told you I’m done!"

"So you're done with me, and now you have Sam, so you'll follow him around?" Bucky's words were laced with bitterness and jealousy. "Who's next, huh? Steve? He's Captain America; you should fuck at him instead, climb him like a tree. Or better yet, maybe you can do all of us. Let us have a go."

Regret instantly washed over him as he realized how hurtful his words had been. "I'm really sorry," he began, "I didn't mean—"

But it was too late. Your anger boiled over, and without thinking, your hand flew across his face, the sharp sound of the slap echoing in the room. "What did I do for you to treat me like this?" you demanded.

"Is it because I joined the team because of my connection with Fury?" Your tone cut through the air like a razor. "I worked for this for years. I’ve fought, bled, sacrificed, and pushed myself to the limits, all to be an Avenger. I earned my place, damn it. Do I not deserve it? Why are you punishing me? Fucking tell me!”

You were beyond caring about the eyes fixed on the unfolding drama. 'Let them gossip,' you thought bitterly, your focus solely on the man before you.

“Sorry that life was hard on you, but don’t make it hard for anyone else either," you continued, "No, you know what? I'm not sorry. Life is shit sometimes, and that's just how it is. You have a right to be upset and have feelings, Barnes. But the way you treat people, the way you treat me like trash, that's not okay. It's not fair, and I won't stand for it any longer."

His jaw tensed, and for a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something. But you didn't give him the chance. "Oh, my bad. Feeling is a foreign word to you, right? Maybe they died when you fell off that train in the '40s."

He could only watch as tears welled up in your eyes, as his mouth moved but no words came out. He was speechless. He couldn't say anything, only guilt was evident on his face.

"Or maybe you forgot how they work. Since you been the Winter Soldier for so long, your emotions are a bit rusty. How does one even deal with feelings and shit when they're programmed to not have them? When they're forced to kill, hurt, and torture innocent people.”

Your tone was merciless, and you instantly regretted your words as you saw the hurt flash across Bucky's face. But you couldn’t stop, the dam had burst, unable to halt the torrent of pent-up frustration.

“They turn you into a weapon. Is that who you are, Barnes? A weapon, a monster without a soul. You've lost all your feelings, all that remains is a cold-blooded, heartless killer. The Winter fucking Soldier.” Your words spat out.

His jaw clenched, and his hands formed fists, his usual rage replaced by a profound sadness. "You’re right… I'm nothing but a monster..."

Steve stepped forward, trying to mediate the escalating tension. "Come on, guys, let's all just take a moment to cool down," Steve said, attempting to diffuse the situation.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his predictable attempt to intervene between you both. "Oh, no, Steve, there's no need to cool down," you retorted, "because there's no fire, except for the flames of my rage. Your best friend here is the one who started the fire."

"Y/N-" Bucky tried to say something, but his words trailed off, lost in the thickness of the charged atmosphere.

“I thought there was more to you than just the Winter Soldier, but every time I see you, you prove me wrong." But your fury was uncontainable, and you turned to face Bucky again, your eyes ablaze with righteous anger. "Stay the fuck away from me, Barnes. Don't come near me. Don't talk to me. Don't even fucking look at me."

Feeling the weight of your anger and frustration, you turned abruptly and rushed towards the exit. You were done, utterly fed up, unable to bear it any longer. Unbeknownst to you, tears slipped down your cheeks. With a swift motion, you wiped away the tears, refusing to let them further betray your vulnerability.

As you strode through the streets, lost in your thoughts, you found your mind drifting back to a time when Bucky had attempted to apologize. You were still so mad at him for what he'd done, you were not going to forgive him any time soon.

One night, you were sitting on the sofa in the common room, trying to focus on your book, when the door opened. You saw Bucky coming in and he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you. You immediately got up, wanting to leave before things got bad.

But, of course, Bucky couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Hey, doll, how are you?"

You didn't answer, grabbing your book and trying to walk away.

He followed you, "Doll, can we talk?"

You were already walking down the hall when he said that, "I don't have anything to say."

"Then just listen, please." Bucky almost begged,

You stopped, sighing and rolling your eyes. You turned around, and crossed your arms, not wanting him to come near you. "I don't have to." You walked faster to your room.

"Please I'll do anything, just let me apologize, I'm begging you!" Bucky was following you still,

You turned around, "Why would I want you to do anything with you? Just leave me alone." You said, turning around and continuing walking.

"C'mon, Doll, I know you hate me, but let me apologize and explain myself.” Bucky said,

You didn't even bother looking at him and kept walking faster.

"Doll, just please," Bucky was starting to get desperate.

You got into your room and locked the door. He knocked couple of times but you ignored him. You put on your headphone and blasted the music. You could hear Bucky banging the door. You were ignoring him until he didn't go away. You turned the volumes up to a deafening level and tried to drown out his voice.

The memory dissolved abruptly as you felt a hand on your wrist, your reflexes primed for confrontation. You whipped around, ready to hit the person behind you, but the person behind you caught your fist. Your eyes flashed with anger.

"What the fuck do you want? Why are you still following me?" you seethed, your voice dripping with contempt. "Fuck off. You're the last person I want to see right now."

Bucky tightened his grip on your wrist, his eyes pleading with sincerity. "I'm so sorry. I know that's not enough, and it doesn't make it better, but I need you to understand how truly sorry I am. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You scoffed, "Yeah, sure. Tell that to someone else.” you retorted, your tone laced with bitterness. "I'm sick of hearing apologies." You attempted to pull away, but he held firm.

"I meant it, Y/N." Bucky insisted, his voice earnest. "I'm telling the truth. I'm an idiot, and I made a stupid decision. I'm trying my best to make up for it."

"Go," you demanded, your voice breaking as your frustration boiled over. "I don't want to see you. Just leave me alone."

"Y/N, please…" Bucky persisted, his voice laced with desperation. He walked beside you, oblivious to the curious gazes from passersby. You stared around, people started to recognize him since he was the famous Winter Soldier. Even when he was wearing casual clothes, and not in his Winter Soldier uniform, his metal arm still drew attention.

You walked faster, wanting to get away from him. But he was faster. You didn’t want people to notice that the infamous Winter Soldier was following you, so you stopped. "Just leave me alone!" you yelled, your anger fueling your words.

As soon as you yelled, the bystanders gasped and started whispering amongst themselves. The last thing you needed was more drama and attention toward you. Embarrassment washed over you, and you turned to run, desperate to escape the public scrutiny. Bucky matched your every step. He reached out and grasped your hand, refusing to let you go.

In an attempt to break free, you fought against his hold, muscles straining with the effort. "Let go of me, Buck!" you protested, attempting to wrench yourself away from him. The crowd around you seemed to blur into a background hum as your focus remained solely on Bucky.

"Not until we settle this," he replied, his voice low and intense, his fingers tightening around your arms.

Your glare deepened, frustration boiling over. "There's nothing to settle here, Barnes. Now, let go of me. Before I make you," you warned, your tone sharp with anger and defiance.

A stubborn glint flickered in his eyes. "No." His grip tightened slightly, his jaw clenched with resolve. "Make me, Y/N," he challenged, his voice steady. "I know you're strong, so make me."

In a surge of frustration, you summoned all your strength and pushed against him with all your might. Bucky stumbled backward, losing his balance, and fell to the ground.

You stood over him, your voice laced with defiance. "There," you panted, your chest heaving with emotion, "I did it. I hope you're happy."

Bucky remained silent, but the bystanders, their eyes wide with disbelief, started recording the scene with their phones, capturing the unexpected sight of you standing tall over the fallen Winter Soldier. The urge to smash their phones surged within you, but you resisted, your focus solely on the man at your feet.

"Well, I'm going. You're making a scene,” you declared, taking your first steps away from the growing commotion.

"I just want to talk, doll." He got up.

"And I don’t wanna listen." Yet Bucky, refusing to let you go that easily, got up and followed after you, his footsteps echoing behind you. Your patience wearing thin, you spun around, your eyes ablaze with anger. "Stop following me you creep!"

Having had enough, Bucky seized you and pulled you into a nearby alley. He pinned your arms against the wall, a conflicted look in his eyes. "Let me go," you growled, straining to break free from his firm hold.

"You know that I can't. I won't.” Bucky replied, his voice tinged with remorse.

A surge of panic gripped you, "If you don't, I'll scream." Your threat to scream hanging in the air.

You were about to let out a piercing cry when Bucky swiftly placed his hand over your mouth. "Don't scream. Please," he implored, his eyes pleading with you. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

In response, you bit down on his hand, but he didn’t flinch. "I know you're furious. You have every right to be. But I’m truly sorry.” Bucky's words poured out, sincere and raw. "Please just give me time to explain everything."

You maintained your glare, your eyes brimming with tears you refused to shed. And finally, Bucky released his grip on your mouth and hands, taking a step back, giving you room to breathe. His voice softened, carrying the weight of his regret. "Listen to me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.”

You tried to push him away, but he wouldn't budge, not that it did anything, the metal arm didn't even move. His eyes were begging, and he looked sincere, you wanted to believe him, but you couldn't.

"Go to hell! I hate you!" The dam finally broke, tears spilling over. You felt weak and vulnerable, consumed by anger and hurt. You then hit his chest, "I hate you!" Hit it again, "You're the worst!" Hit it again, "You fucking hurt me!"

You hammered his chest repeatedly to vent out. Bucky stood there, unmoved, letting you vent your rage on him. You were crying hard at this point. You were upset that he saw you like this, looking weak.

Then you felt tired emotionally, you stopped hitting him as you realized what a mess you're becoming. Your hands hurt because you were hitting him too much. He grabbed your wrists, "Doll you are hurting yourself, stop pushing me.. don't hurt yourself."

"You did it first! You hurt me, you broke my heart." You continued pushing him, "let go of me, please." You started crying harder, you couldn't see because of the tears and your head was throbbing.

You dropped down your gaze to the ground not wanting to see his face. You didn't know why he was acting like this, you were so fed up. "I don't want to see your face, Barnes. I can't believe you had the audacity to still show up in front of me. When you know that you're a horrible person who doesn't deserve to be forgiven."

He let go of your arms and you wanted to push him away but you were so tired, so exhausted. He placed his hand beside your head caging you in, you knew he was staring at you. "I know… I'm a monster. I know I didn't deserve you. I'm sorry… for everything."

You stayed silent and just crying, your heart aching at the memories. It was so painful.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but I just wanted you to know. But I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of the things I said. I'm the monster, not you. You're everything good and I'm nothing." You continued to stay silent not wanting to give in.

You couldn't hold your emotions in anymore, so you just cried. He wiped your tears from your eyes and you shook your head not wanting him to touch you, you hated it, you hated that he was here. He sighed and removed his hand from your face.

You felt like he deserved it, he hurt you, and you want him to feel the pain. He stepped back a few steps, giving you space. "I'm sorry for hurting you, Doll." He apologized, "I'm a fucking asshole and a coward. I should have never done that."

"Please doll, don't cry… I'm really sorry… I shouldn't say those words. I shouldn't hurt you." You continued to cry, "Tell me what to do to make it stop."

"Just go away, Bucky." Your voice barely whispered.

"Do you really hate me that much, doll?" You nodded at him, "Will it make it better if I go away?"

You stayed silent, this was what you wanted, for him to leave. But why did you feel so hurt? You didn't answer him, you couldn't answer him.

Instead you just sobbed like a mess. "Y/N, please, look at me." You didn't, you were so tired of everything, you couldn't even lift a finger. You felt numb and just sad, it hurt so much.

"Please, doll. I'm a jerk, a horrible person. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He dropped down on his knees looking at you with sad eyes, begging. “Please. I need you. I can't lose you."

You were shocked, the most feared assassin in the world was on his knees, in front of you. He looked at you, and you just shook your head. He was being sincere and genuine, but you couldn't accept it. "I need you, please. Give me a chance, let me make it up to you. I beg of you, don't leave me." He was being sincere and genuine, but you couldn't accept it.

You were looking at him crying, not knowing what to do. There wasn't an excuse, nothing would make this better. You felt your heart break, seeing him like this made your heart ache. You had so much pain inside of you. You just couldn't.

"Bucky, just stop." You tried to made him stand up but he wouldn't. "Get up, this is stupid."

He shook his head, "Not until you give me a chance. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, I'm not even worthy of looking at you, but please, let me have a chance." He looked up at you with tearful eyes.

"Don't do this. You're making it worse." You said and he grabbed your hand, "If it means I get a chance, then I'm not getting up. Just please, tell me what I can do."

You closed your eyes. This is so wrong, he was so wrong, this is not right. "I can't do this, this is crazy." You closed your eyes tightly and sighed. You were conflicted.

He shook his head and cried, "I didn't know what came over me, I wasn't good at expressing my feelings, I don't know what else to say, except that I'm sorry.”

You scoffed, "And why do you think you have the right to say that, after all the shit you've done?"

He looked at you, and spoke, "Because, I was wrong, and I'm really sorry."

You didn't want to give in but he was looking at you with such an innocent expression, he looked so broken and helpless. "Sorry just doesn't cut it, Barnes.”

He was quiet for a moment, then spoke, "I know I don't, doll. I know I'm a monster. A murderer. I don't have a right to live." He said in between sobs, and you couldn't help but feel pity towards him. "I've given up all my hopes and dreams when I've been in the hydra. But you give me hope, doll. You give me dreams."

His eyes were filled with sadness, tears streaming down his face. "The minute I saw you, you were everything that was right. I didn't know who you were, and I had no idea how I was going to tell Steve, or anyone. I was afraid. So, I tried to stay away, but the more I was away, the more I missed you.”

Your heart beat faster, you felt something in your stomach. You couldn't describe it, you went to knelt in front of him, he didn't dare to meet your gaze. "Bucky, look at me.”

"I don't have the right, doll. I don't deserve to look at you." He said in between his sobs. “I'm a monster. I deserve to die, not to love."

"You are not a monster.” You placed your hand on his cheek, stroking it gently, hoping it would soothe him. “I’m sorry too for hurting you for all the things I said to you...”

He leaned into your touch, placing his hand over yours. "Please, don't apologize. It was all my fault. I caused this, I hurt you." He whispered.

"We both hurt each other, Bucky. We both fucked up.”

He still didn't meet your gaze. You held his chin and forced him to look at you. You cupped his cheeks, he looked so broken. You wiped his tears, and said, "Why did you say those things to me? Why you said I was a mistake? Why did you say you used me? Why Bucky?"

He took a deep breath and said “Because I was afraid that if I got close, I'll just end up hurting you. I always fuck up in the end somehow, look what I did. I'm such a stupid man. I'm an idiot and an asshole." He took your hands from his face, kissing them before placing them back to his cheeks. "I've never felt anything for anyone. I've never loved anyone, never been in love. Not until I met you. When I'm with you, I feel different. When you smiled at me, when you look at me, I feel that I could be a better man. I want to be a better man for you. You make me feel, you make me alive, you made me happy. You showed me a new life. You're everything I could've ever dreamed of. You're perfect and I don't deserve you."

His hand then touched your hand caressing it lightly, "I was really going to confess everything to you that night. I was going to tell you that I like you, and ask you if I can take you out, or if I can have the chance to show you how much you mean to me. That you make my heart beat fast, and how my whole body goes numb, and my skin tingles when I'm around you. I wanted to tell you that I love you, because I'm pretty sure that I do. But, when I was about to do it, I knocked on your door couple of times, but you didn't answer, so I thought that maybe you were already asleep. So I decided to wait until the next day.”

He took a deep breath before he continued. "That morning, I got a message from the victim's family when I killed them as winter soldier. They told me how they wished that I died instead. How they wished that it was me. And they said they had a daughter, and her name was Bianca. They said, she was beautiful and full of life. They said, if it wasn't for me, their daughter wouldn't have been murdered."

Your heart broke at his confession, but you stayed silent, listening to him, you couldn’t speak, not yet.

He confessed as he looked at you, his eyes filled with tears, and you couldn't help but cry too. "I felt so guilty hearing them said that. I was angry because of what I did. I was mad at myself, and I didn't want you to get involved with someone like me. I can't have anyone else get hurt. I don't know what I’ll do if anything happens to you."

You pulled him into a tight hug, and he clung to you. His arms wrapped around your waist. "I wanted to push you away, you deserve someone better. I thought, maybe if I was a jerk, you would stop liking me. But as soon as I realized, I regretted everything.”

You held him tighter, your heart aching for him. He sobbed quietly, burying his face into your neck. “I'm sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking. You were never mine, but losing you broke me. It was so hard for me to keep myself away from you when all I want is to be with you. I know it, and I don't deserve you.”

"It's okay, I'm here." You rubbed his back, trying to calm him down.

He broke the hug and looked at your eyes, "You have every right not to believe me, but please. Give me a chance. One last chance, and if you decide you still hate me, then I'll let you go. But please, please give me a chance to prove myself."

You didn't know what to do. He was broken, and he was begging you for a chance. It was the least you could do. You were conflicted, but your heart won over, you couldn't bear to see him on his knees like this. "Okay, Bucky. But first let's stand up, my legs are killing me."

He pulled you up, his arms encircling your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I won't disappoint you, doll. I promise. I will make it up to you, and if it takes me forever, then I'll do it."

You stood and looked at him, "Bucky, if we're going to do this. You must promise me, no more secrets. We have to be honest to each other. We have to learn to talk about our problems, and we have to try and understand each other. If you have something bothering you, don't push me away. Come and talk to me."

"Okay, I promise." He nodded, "Thank you, doll. For giving me a chance. I won't fail you." He pulled you closer, his hands gripping your hips, his eyes burning with lust.

You looked at him and smiled, he looked back at you and gave you a small smile. "But that doesn't mean I already forgive you. It's going to take some time, but I want us to work on this. Together."

"Yeah, I know. I will beg every minute if it takes.” His hands moved to your hips, holding you firmly in place. You both stood there in silence before he asked, "Doll, what are we now?"

"What do you mean?" You knew what he was asking but you pretended to not know.

"Doll, can I ask you out? Will you be my girl?"

You relished the moment, letting him wait with a playful pause. His nervous anticipation brought a smile to your face. "Yes, if you'll have me."

Bucky sighed in relief, "Finally!" A broad smile adorned his face as he hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. Laughter bubbled from within you. "Thank you, doll." He gently set you down, and you both stared at each other.

You then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He was shocked at first, but soon his arms wrapped around your waist. He kissed back and it was the most passionate kiss ever.

You then wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He was shocked at first, but soon enough, he responded. You moaned into the kiss, your body melting into his embrace, and his arms circled your waist, pulling you closer.

His tongue brushed against your lower lip, asking for entrance. You parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip inside, tasting your mouth. Your tongue danced with his. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth. His hand found its way into your hair, tugging slightly, eliciting another moan from you. He pulled back and pecked your lips, smiling softly. "You're beautiful, doll."

You blushed and bit your lower lip, a smirk forming on your face. "You're not so bad yourself, sergeant."

He chuckled and shook his head, "You're making me blush, doll."

“Shut up, kiss me again.” You tugged his collar and pulled him closer, your lips colliding in a passionate kiss. You two had a lot to talk about, but that could wait. Right now, you just wanted to stay in his arms. You wanted him.

Bucky then grabbed your ass and lifted you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt the wall behind you and Bucky placed his metal arm on the wall.

You felt his erection rubbing on your center, and he started grinding his hips into yours. You felt him rub against you and moan into your mouth. "Ahh, Bucky."

You could feel him twitching through his jeans, and his metal hand moved from the wall, to under your shirt. He caressed your stomach and moved his hand upwards. Your heart was pounding, and you were excited.

He stopped the kiss and placed his forehead on yours. “Doll, can I?"

"Yes." You whispered.

His hand cupped your breast, and he groaned. “You drive me crazy, doll." He pinched your nipple between his thumb and finger. You moaned and he placed his other hand down your pants. You felt him pull your pants down, and he slipped his fingers in between your folds.

"Bucky."

"Doll, you're so wet." He groaned, and started to rub your clit. "So beautiful."

His metal hand continued to play with your nipples, and he used his left hand to start rubbing your clit faster. You started to moan louder, and Bucky put his other hand over your mouth.

"Shh, baby, be quiet. I don't want the others hearing." He smirked and removed his hand from your mouth. You bit your lip and his finger started to slide inside you.

"Please Bucky..."

"What do you need, doll?"

"You."

He grinned, "Are you sure? I mean we just made up."

"I'm sure, and plus I've already touched myself thinking of you."

Bucky groaned, "Oh god, that's so fucking hot. Tell me more."

"I was fingering myself and I was thinking about your dick, and how much I needed you. I was thinking of your cock filling me up."

"Oh god, fuck."

"But it wasn't enough, and it would never be enough. I needed your big fat cock to make me cum."

When things got intense, then suddenly you heard something fell down. You both froze and looked around, then Bucky let you go and you were back on your feet.

Then a rat came out, and you and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. You laughed, and you were blushing.

"Hey, don't laugh." He teased.

"That was a huge ass rat! What was it doing in here?" you exclaimed.

"Welcome to New York, doll. It's a rat haven." he chuckled.

“Ugh, gross." You laughed and shot him a playful glance.

Bucky responded by wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. "Shall we continue this somewhere more private?" he suggested with a mischievous grin.

"Thought you won't ask." You said, smiling. You kissed him and bit his bottom lip. He moaned and looked at you and smirked. "Lead the way, Sergeant Barnes."

"Anything for you, doll." He guided you outside the alley, holding your hands. As you walked down the street, you felt a nervous excitement. His hand in yours, palms sweaty, he squeezed your hand and shot a warm smile your way.

You couldn't believe that he was actually holding your hand, and he was being nice. You felt something in the pit of your stomach, a good feeling. The man you have been in love with for two years, the man who is now your boyfriend, and the man who is going to take you back home and make you scream his name.

"Wanda saw us you know in the gym, why did you lie about it?" You looked up to him and he averted his gaze.

Bucky face hardened, he looked annoyed, "She told you that?" You nodded in confirmation. He sighed, a conflicted look in his eyes. "I didn't want you to be embarrassed or feel awkward. I thought it was best to say no one saw us. I guess she's a rat, just like those in the alley," he gritted his teeth, frustration building.

You chuckled, "It was awkward, I mean I got blackmail by her into buying her sex toys." You were giggling but Bucky wasn't.

"She did that to you? I'll talk to her." Bucky's tone indicated he was ready to take matters into his own hands.

"No, no, it's fine. Really," you reassured him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Don't be upset. And please, don't have a word with her. It's between me and her."

"Fine, baby. Only because it’s you who asked me.” He said.

You giggled and leaned up and kissed his cheek. Then Bucky called a taxi and opened the door for you. You blushed and thanked him. He climbed inside the car and sat close to you. He put his arm around your shoulders, and you laid your head on his chest.

The whole ride was silent. You noticed this wasn't the way to the compound, "Where are we going, Buck?"

He rubbed his thumb on your bare skin and you relaxed in his arms. "To my place."

"You have a place? But you live in the compound."

"Yeah, I have a place in Brooklyn. Just for me, no one knows about it, except Steve. I wanted some privacy and peace away from everyone. But, now you're going to know where I live, too."

"Oh, okay." You were so comfortable and calm that you fell asleep. You woke up to a gentle touch of a hand, stroking your hair.

"Wake up, doll. We're here." You arrived at your destination.

You lifted your head and looked at him sleepily. He looked at you and chuckled, "How can you be so cute and sexy at the same time, huh?"

You blushed and giggled, "Shut up."

"C'mon."

He took your hand and guided you inside the building. It was really nice, the hallway was bright and had a fresh scent. It was an old building, but it had a modern vibe. He opened the door and let you in.

It was a spacious studio apartment. The living room was open to the kitchen and the bedroom. "Wow this place is amazing."

When you turned around, Bucky immediately kissed you and his hands were cupping your face. You smiled as he kissed you and his tongue slid in. The kiss was hungry and passionate, you felt how much he desired you, you could taste him, smell him. He pushed you against the wall and his thigh was pressed between your legs, rubbing you through the fabric.

His body pressed up against yours. His thigh was pressed between your legs, rubbing you through the fabric. He let go of your hand and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. "Mhhh..." Your lips parted and his kisses moved to your neck. You were breathing heavily, moaning his name. His teeth nibbled at the skin and you grabbed his hair.

He moved his hands down your back and cupped your ass, lifting you up. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your arms were on his neck. He carried you to the bedroom, his hands were everywhere and you were moaning into the kiss.

He sat on the bed and you were sitting on his lap. "Let's not stop this time, okay?" He looked into your eyes.

"Yes, yes." God yes, it had been too long since you had his cock inside you and you desperately wanted him.

"Good girl." Bucky started kissing your neck and you moved your hips, trying to grind against him. You let out a moan and held his head, running your hands through his hair.  

He started pulling off your clothes and you sat up and took off your shirt. Bucky stopped and was just staring at you. "What are you waiting for?" Your grip tightened around his hair.

"Sorry, just admiring the view." He pulled off his shirt, and then took his pants off. You stared at him, and he was breathtakingly beautiful. His body was chiseled and sculpted like a Greek God, and he was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Fuck..." You cursed as he unclasped your bra and began sucking on your left nipple and while his metal hand was kneading your right breast. He did the same to the other side. You were a moaning mess under his touch.

"Your breasts are so perfect, doll. Can't get enough of them."

You kissed him again and began grinding your hips against him. He then grabbed your hips and began grinding you back, you felt him getting hard, and you felt like you were going to explode soon. He was breathing heavily, his eyes were dark, lustful.

You then started to take off your panties. "No, leave them on. That's my job." He threw you on the mattress and got on top of you and started sucking and licking your nipples before he went down kissing your body. He was trailing wet kisses to your stomach. He took off your underwear and spread your legs.

Then he was on his knees, he kissed your inner thigh and made you whine. "So impatient, baby."

"Shut up."

He chuckled and then he was kissing the junction of your thighs and hips.

"Bucky, please!"

He smirked and then licked your slit. Your hands went to his hair and he was holding your hips. He was sucking your clit and licking your entrance. You were writhing under his touch. started licking your pussy, eating you out like a starving man.

"Holy shit... Bucky!" You were panting and he was going deeper and deeper.  You couldn't think straight anymore. All you could think was his mouth on your pussy. His tongue was working wonders on your cunt. You were moaning his name and tugging his hair.

He inserted a finger and pumped slowly, making you gasp and moan. "Ah, Buck, feels good." Your breath hitched.

"I can feel your tight pussy clenching around my finger, Y/N." He said as he added another finger. You arched your back and whimpered. He sucked your clit and pumped his fingers faster.

His fingers were reaching places that you didn't know existed. He sucked harder and was now fucking you with his fingers. You could feel his metal finger and the vibrations were intense.

He curled his fingers and you arched your back. He was sucking your clit and licking, too. Your legs were shaking and he was holding your hips harder.

"Fuck! Bucky!" You couldn't take it anymore. You were so close. "I'm gonna come."

"Come for me, baby. Come on my face."

"Fuck! Oh god. Bucky!" You screamed as you came on his face. You felt him smile as he licked up all your juices.

When he was done, "That's it, doll. Good girl. Come here." He got on top of you and kissed you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it was making you even more horny.

He was kissing your face and lips. "I want to ride you properly now, Bucky."

"God yes, whatever the lady wants." He moved off of you and lied on his back, and you crawled on top of him.

You kissed his chest and his stomach, then you looked into his eyes as you were moving down on him. You were rubbing his cock between your folds. His hands were on your hips, squeezing and digging his nails in.

"Baby, please." You heard him whisper.

"Please, what, Buck?"

"Please, stop teasing me. I need you, now." He was looking at you, and his pupils were so dilated, you could barely see his beautiful blue eyes.

You lined his cock up with your entrance and sank on him, both of you moaning when he was fully inside of you.

"Jesus Christ, doll. You're so tight. And warm."

You put your hands on his chest and started moving up and down on him, slowly at first. He was squeezing your thighs and hips, helping you move.

"Shit! Oh, fuck!" You were bouncing on him now, and he was thrusting up to meet your hips. He was gripping your hips tightly. You started to bounce up and down, and your hands were on his chest. "You feel so good, Buck. You're stretching me out so well."

"Yeah? You're riding me like a champ, baby." He was breathing hard and grunting every time he was slamming into you.

"Ahh, Bucky, yes!" You were biting your lips and throwing your head back, and Bucky was thrusting up.

"Mmm, you like that, sweetheart?"

"Yes! Harder!" You closed your eyes, he felt so good inside you.

"Look at me, baby. Look at me, while I'm fucking you."

You opened your eyes and you were bouncing faster, and he was thrusting his hips faster, too. He was hitting your g-spot and you were getting closer to your orgasm. You were squeezing his biceps. "I've been waiting to fuck you properly since our last time. Couldn't wait to make you scream my name, doll."

"Then do it, make me scream, Buck"

"I will, doll. I promise." You were slamming into each other now, both of you close. You felt his finger touching your clit. "Ahh, you look so pretty when you're riding me, doll. Look at you. So fucking perfect. You're gonna make me cum."

He was looking at you with lust in his eyes. You grabbed his metal arm and sucked on his fingers. You started to suck harder, and you moaned.

He started thrusting harder and faster, the bed was hitting the wall. His hand went to your clit and he started rubbing fast. His other hand kneaded your breasts. You moved even faster and you were getting close, "Buck, you're so good. I'm close."

"I know, I can feel it. You’re doing so good for me, doll. Fuck, doll. Can I come inside you? Please?"

"Yes! Yes, please, come inside me, Buck."

You were screaming his name and digging your nails to his chest. His hand left your breast and was gripping your hips hard. You knew it was going to leave bruises. You were bouncing faster and your orgasm hit you like a truck.

"Oh god, Bucky!" You screamed his name and collapsed on his chest.

"I'm gonna fill your tight pussy up, baby."

"Please, Buck, please."

"FUCK! Y/N! Take it all, baby. Take it." He was filling you up, and you could feel him twitching inside of you.

"Yes! That's it. Fill me up, Buck."

"Jesus." You were both panting and trying to catch your breath. You were resting your head on his chest, and you could hear his heartbeat. He then flipped you over, so you were under him. You felt him that he was still hard, and he was looking at you with a grin. "Can you handle another round, doll? Or are you too tired?"

You smirked and raised your eyebrow. "Are you challenging me, Barnes?"

"Maybe."

"Let's see how long you can keep up, sergeant."

"I can do this all night, doll. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm just getting started."

"Good, 'cause I'm not finished with you yet." He smirked and moved over you.

"You're in for a wild ride, Barnes."

"Bring it on, doll." He pulled your legs and you were in a mating press position, with him towering over you.

"Show me what you've got, soldier."

"Oh, I'll show you." He pulled your legs and you were in a mating press position. He was teasing you with his tip and you were moaning loudly. You were already so sensitive, you were ready to cum again.

"Tell me you want it."

"Yes. I want it! I want you, Bucky."

"Beg me, doll."

"Please. I beg you, please fuck me."

"Who owns you?"

"You do. Only you!"

"Good girl." With that, he entered inside you in a swift motion and buried himself to the hilt and you screamed. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, and make you forget everything."

He was holding your legs and spreading them more. You were a moaning mess underneath him. He pounded into you so hard, and you were gripping the sheets. Your orgasm was approaching and he was holding your hips hard. You were sure he was going to leave a mark.

"You're not gonna walk after I'm done with you." He was thrusting faster and harder. You were a mess, you were sweating and panting. He was rubbing your clit and pumping into you. He was kissing your neck and you were screaming his name.

Then, he was thrusting fast and rough, and kissing your face. He was nipping your neck and biting. You were leaving marks on his back, and he was gripping your hips.

The way he thrusts his hips, it was like he was a fucking machine. He was a man of his word, and you weren't going to walk tomorrow. He was grunting and groaning and kissing your neck.

He was now pounding so hard into you, and your breasts were bouncing. "You love when I fuck you, don't you?"

"Yes, Bucky. Yes, I do. You're stretching me out so good, Bucky. Don't stop."

"Oh, I'll fuck you until the morning, baby." He was now fucking into your g-spot and his vibranium hand was rubbing your clit.

"Fuck! Bucky, I'm gonna come again!"

"Cum for me, doll. Be a good girl."

"Fuck, Bucky." He gave few more thrusts, and you were seeing stars. You were coming hard and screaming his name.

You were both panting, and Bucky was trying to catch his breath. "Holy shit, doll."

"Yeah, that was amazing."

He lifted his head, and looked at you. "Was? I'm not done, yet."

"What?! Bucky, we can't do it anymore. I already came three times. I can't go again."

"Awww, is my little kitten too sensitive, huh?" He teased you as he lightly slapped your pussy making you yelp.

"Stop it." You said, still sensitive, “Please…”

"Well, we're just getting started. I meant when I said I'm going to fuck you until the sun rises." He flipped you over and he was kissing your back. "Your body is so perfect, baby."

His hands were rubbing and squeezing your ass cheeks. "I want to take you from behind, baby. Can I do that? I want to see that pretty little ass.”

"Mmmmm, fine."

He slapped your ass and you moaned. "Such a good little kitten." He slapped your ass a couple more times, and you moaned. "Now, I'm gonna make you purr like a kitten."

He grabbed a handful of your ass and spread your cheeks. He was teasing you with his tip, and you were pushing your ass against him. "Such a horny kitten, you are." He slowly pushed his cock into you, and you were moaning. He grabbed your hips and started to thrust. He was fucking you slow and deep. But then, he was moving his hips faster.

You were lying on your stomach, and Bucky was pounding into you hard and fast. You were screaming his name. "You're all mine, baby."

He gripped your hair yanking you into pulling you into a kiss. You opened your mouth and his tongue slid in. He explored every inch of your mouth. Your tongues wrestled for dominance, and he won.

"That's it, doll." He was fucking you so hard, he was slapping your ass, and was holding your hips. His dick was hitting all the right spots. You were a moaning mess, you couldn't form words. He was fucking you hard and fast.

The slapping noises were getting louder and the bed was squeaking. His hands started to pinch your nipples making you scream his name, the pleasure was too intense. "I'm close, baby. Let's cum together."

He then continued pounding and you could feel his dick twitch inside. He was grunting and panting. “FUCK, Y/N!” He then came, filling you up. His cum was dripping out of your pussy. He was still inside you, riding out his high.

He pulled out of you but then you noticed he was still hard. "Buck, how are you hard again?!"

He chuckled, "You're the one who made me like this."

You were mesmerized by his stamina but also scared at the same time. He got in between your legs and kissed you passionately. He was kissing down your body and leaving a trail of wet kisses.

“Fuck… Ah… Bucky I can’t… Not anymore.” You were so sensitive and spent, you have came so many times.

"Your moans say otherwise, doll." He grinned as he took his cock and lined it to your entrance and entered you without warning once again. You screamed and gripped his biceps.

He was thrusting his hips faster and hitting your g-spot. You were both moaning loudly, and saying each other's names.  "You're taking me so well, sweetheart." You were a sweaty mess and Bucky was gripping your hips.

He was pounding into you and he was so big, it felt like you were being ripped apart. But, you loved the pain. You were scratching his back and leaving marks. You were both leaving bruises on each other's body.

"Fuck, Bucky. Ah, yes!"  He was pounding into you and you were moaning loudly.

"That's it, doll. Moan for me."

He was thrusting deeper and harder. Your hands were roaming around his body. You were touching and squeezing every part of him. You cried out as he increased his speed. "Fuck Bucky i can't..." you couldn't come anymore, you were overstimulated.

"Yes you can doll, I know you can." He rubbed your clit faster with now his teeth bit your nipple, “Fucking give it to me, doll.”

You cried out and came all over his cock. "That's my good little kitten." He praised.

But he wasn't done with you yet. You felt so much pleasure and pain, but it felt so good. Bucky thrusted faster and harder, his thrusts were deep. He slammed into you and started thrusting even faster and deeper.

"Shit. Bucky, ahh..." You gasped when his hand found your neck and he squeezed. His grip tightened and he began pounding you harder. You were moaning his name over and over again. You could feel every inch of his thick, long dick, and it was filling you so good.

He then leaned down and was fucking you deep. His metal arm was wrapped around your waist and the other one was choking you. He was sucking and licking your breasts. You were moaning uncontrollably. "Fuck, I'm so close. Let's come together, come to me one more time."

"I can't, Bucky! It's too much." You whimpered. “Please, no more.” You were begging him, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You can do it doll. Show me what a good girl you are.” He pounded to you faster, his thrusts becoming erratic as he pistoning you in and out.

You were a sweating mess and you couldn't form a coherent sentence. "Holy shit, oh my god, ahhh, fffuck, ahh, ah, mhh, ohh, shit."

You gripped the sheets and screamed his name and you were shaking uncontrollably. Your vision went white and your ears rang. You felt your body go limp. You couldn't move. Your body was overstimulated and tired.

Bucky continued thrusting and you felt him twitch inside you. You both cried out each other's names as you came together. Bucky got off you and laid next to you, pulling you close to him.

You felt so sleepy afterwards, you were spent. He then cleaned you both up before he snuggled with you. "How are you feeling, baby?" He asked.

"Like I can't feel my legs."

He kissed the top of your head and laughed. "Sorry about that, doll."

You chuckled. "Don't apologize. That was the best sex I've ever had."

He held you close and kissed you deeply. You ran your fingers through his hair and he cupped your cheek. As you laid there with him, “I’m sorry Bucky for what I did to you back then on the gym, I took advantage of you… I-“

Bucky stopped you with kissing you. “I know doll, you don’t have to apologize. Like you said, we both hurt each other. Let’s not from now on okay? I promise I’ll be the best version of myself and no more hiding from you.”

You smiled at him, “I would like that.”

Bucky then kissed your forehead, “I love you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, he said it again, “I freaking love you. I've fallen for you ever since the day you helped me out at the hospital and you didn't judge me, you treated me with nothing but respect when I treated you horribly. You have a heart of gold and I'm just glad I was able to finally tell you my feelings. I'm sorry for the way I treated you before, I was just scared to let you in but now I want you in my life, you make me feel safe and loved."

He cupped your cheeks, "Please stay with me. Don't let go of me. I'm begging you to be mine, just mine. Only mine. And I will give my whole life for you, just to be with you, to make up for the time we lost. You are all that I want and all that I need. You are the one for me. If I can't be with you, I don't want to be with anyone else. Please let me take care of you and treat you like the angel you are."

He leaned down and pressed his lips on yours as he whispered, "Be mine and no one else's. Please..."

You felt tears in your eyes, this time it was tears of happiness. "Yes...yes Bucky...I'll be yours. I'm all yours." You went to kissed him but soon the kiss deepened. You moved on top of him as he squeezed your ass and you grinded against him.

Bucky broke the kiss and groaned, "Doll, we have to stop." He put his hands on your waist, trying to slow your movements. Bucky bit his bottom lip. "Or I’m going to get blue balls for the rest of the night."

Your eyes went to his cock seeing it starting to get hard once more. You chuckled and got off him. Bucky laid on his side as you snuggled next to him, "You're right."

Bucky kissed the top of your head, "Thank you, doll. Thank you for loving me. For being my girl and only mine."

"You are welcome, and thank you, for making me yours." You snuggled close to him.

He pulled you closer and caressed your cheeks, "You are perfect, just perfect."

He pulled the sheets over you, so you didn't get cold. You yawned and closed your eyes as you held Bucky's hand and drifted off to sleep. "Sleep well, baby."

You smiled, “Good night, Bucky.”

You were happy, and he was happy. This was all you ever wanted, and it seemed like everything was going well.

But, you still have a problem, a big one. Your friends and the Avengers. They would definitely freak out.

—— FIN ——

Thank you immensely for supporting this series! Your encouragement means a lot. Although I might not be very active here, your comments always bring a smile to my face. I hope you'll stick around for my upcoming projects!

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#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel x reader #bucky barnes angst #groveling #jealous!bucky #bucky one shot #bucky an asshole

[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 2 - Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My! (1)

ITACHI x ALPHA!READER

Summary: Porn logic, you quickly discover, is great for your soul and general self-esteem, but rather intensive on your poor heart. Your first day in an erotic pocket dimension and the horny shenanigans are only beginning. Also magic? That shit was the coolest thing you'd ever seen. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Sexual tension and adult situations, although no explicit sex. GN alpha, but all alphas have penises fyi.

A/N: I decided to split these chapters in two because they were getting very long haha! Not much porn in this one, as it's slightly more slow burn compared to Books 2 and 3. There will be a lot of porn in the second half, but this one just needed that build up imo. It's still too early to say Happy Holidays, but seeing that @omeganronpa is sick right now, I will say 'Get Well Soon!' instead :D I tried to get this finished in time to meet the request for softboi hours lol. I hope everyone enjoys!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

Waking up when you hadn’t been asleep was somehow worse than normal waking up, and considering how much you hated to do that, it was almost impressive.

Your head was fuzzy with disorientation, and your eyes felt glued together with enough grit to pave a driveway. All in all, you felt pretty rough. It took you a few seconds to remember where you were and what was happening, but once you managed to pry open your eyes, met immediately with an unfamiliar ceiling, everything clicked into place. You were inside your first pocket dimension.

The spike of excitement that shot through you was so strong that the grogginess dissipated almost immediately, and any thoughts about snuggling back to sleep fled with it. With some difficulty, you wrestled an arm from the heavy weight of blankets on top of you and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Free of grit, you were finally able to examine your surroundings.

Your first thought was that you’d somehow fallen into the ‘Autumn vibes’ Pinterest board that you’d made in the middle of the night that one time when your desire to flee into the woods had been at an all time high. You were bundled up on a sofa in a living room dominated by a gorgeous stone fireplace that held a pleasantly crackling fire, various fire related tools and a small amount of wood storage.

There were floor-to-ceiling shelves everywhere, filled to bursting with artwork, old books, trinkets and pots of unidentifiable but colourful liquids and powders. Dried flowers and large, green house plants dotted every corner of the room, surrounded by candles of every shape and colour you could imagine, all of them resting on a collection of layered, patterned rugs.

Along with the sofa you were laying on, the seating consisted of a cosy armchair in a deep burgundy colour, and a little window seat filled to the brim with a mismatch of cushions and blankets.

The entire room was bathed in a warm, orange glow. It was utterly enchanting.

Distantly, over the crackle of the fire, you could hear someone humming from behind one of the doors. The voice was deep, but not excessively so, and accompanied by the occasional clanging of pots and pans.

That door must lead to the kitchen, you thought.

This little cottage felt so incredibly real and lived in. You had wondered if there would be some kind of giveaway that this was a story premise based in a fake, manufactured world, but so far you had found nothing. It was so much better than you could have dreamed.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t have questions though. Dazzled though you may have been, you needed to know a little more before you came face to face with the first omega. James had said you could communicate with her mentally, so first things first, you needed to figure out how to do that.

‘James?’ You tried using your internal monologue to speak, just with a greater emphasis and purpose than normal. ‘Can you hear me?’

‘Human alpha,’ James acknowledged, her voice sounding just as loud as your own in your head. You flinched a little at the strange sensation of a foreign presence invading your mind. Despite it being vaguely weird that someone could hear your purposeful thoughts, you were grateful to have a guide in an unfamiliar world.

‘I was wondering a bit about free will,’ you said, pausing as you tried to figure out how to phrase the question. James spoke before you could continue.

‘I’m not allowed to give humans any information about free will, religion, the afterlife, aliens, alternate realties, time travel, dead people, living people, or the secret behind the correlation between motherhood and the ability to find objects that accidentally fall into micro pocket dimensions.’

‘No, I meant like in these stories.’ You stopped, processing what James had just said. ‘Wait, motherhood and micro pocket dimensions? Is that why my friend’s mum was able to find the remote in four seconds after we searched for it for three hours that one time?’

‘What part of ‘I’m not allowed to discuss such topics with humans’ did you not understand, human alpha?’

You mentally shook your head, returning to your original point, ‘I was wondering how much free will the people in these books have. Do they have to follow a story, or a script? Will they fall in love me with no matter what I do or say?’

‘These stories are premises,’ James explained. You could so vividly imagine her face as she spoke. ‘They set the world, the rules of the universe, the people and their backstories, their motivations and inclinations, but they don’t provide a script. These characters are just as real as the people from your world by most interdimensional regulations and definitions. They have inclinations towards certain behaviours, but that is no different from your world, yes? People are defined by their experiences and behave in ways that fit their psychological profile and motivations, that does not mean they have no agency.’

You let out a relieved sigh, ‘That’s good. I was worried that they’d be forced to do things with me by the narrative.’

‘Rest assured, human, even in an erotica, if a person chooses to copulate with you, they will have done so of their own volition.’ You snorted at her phrasing, but her words were greatly comforting.

‘Wait, does that mean they can reject me all together?’ you asked, a sudden realisation popping up.

‘Technically yes. It is fairly rare… Although it does tend to happen more frequently with humans who choose erotica stories for some reason.’

Many, many people popped to mind as she said that, from incel forums to the creepy people you’d been unlucky enough to encounter in real life. You were certain that, given the opportunity, most of them would jump at a chance to live as the protagonist of an erotica novel. You were also certain that they’d immediately feel entitled to nonstop sex and a whole manner of other creepy things. It was honestly quite amusing to imagine them getting rejected by the ‘fictional’ love interests they so desperately clung to, and you wished for a moment that you could have had James’ role of fly on the wall to those rejections.

Personally, you weren’t worried about coming across as super creepy and you certainly weren’t going to be forcing anyone into anything. You were confident that, with two attempts, both literally designed to push you and a love interest together, you’d find some kind of fulfilling relationship.

The humming from the kitchen got louder all of a sudden and you wondered if you’d find that relationship with this mysterious omega.

‘Now, human, I will run through the general premise of this world to aid you in your first interaction.’ Even as a disembodied voice, it somehow felt appropriate when James cleared her throat. ‘You are in the world of ‘Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My!’. You have taken the role of MC, a mysterious alpha that was rescued by the book’s love interest, Itachi, unconscious and in the middle of a snowstorm.’

‘Wait, what was he doing out in a snowstorm?’

‘Please try to remain focused, human alpha. MC, struggling with recalling any memory of who they are or how they got there, relies on Itachi to brew a potion to retrieve their memories. Shenanigans ensue, although the exact type of shenanigans will depend on how you conduct yourself. You have a great amount of power to affect the story, especially considering the MC is an amnesiac. As long as you account for how they ended up in the woods, the backstory is fully yours to fashion. But I advise you to heed my warning.’

You remembered it loud and clear. When picking a backstory, you were going to keep one acronym in mind: MLHH (Money, Love, Health, Happiness). That should serve your needs well. Regardless, you were glad you had time to think about the details while you were playing the amnesiac role.

The weird feeling of presence in your mind faded as James fell silent. You took a deep breath. You could do this. You were going to have fun with a pretty omega, treat him with respect, see real magic (and real porn logic), and all of that would be contained in your dream witchy cottage. As long as you avoided complete disaster, this should be one of the greatest things you’ve ever done.

It was only when the sound of the kitchen door unlatching reached your ears that you realised the humming had stopped.

Your head snapped to the side and your eyes landed on the most beautiful omega you’d ever met. This must be Itachi.

Itachi had long, dark hair that was drawn back into a low ponytail, although he’d left a decent amount loose and framing his pale, heart-shaped face. His features were sharp, especially his eyes, and although he moved gracefully, he also seemed to command attention with a presence that felt both strangely out of place and intimately natural for him.

He wore a cosy collection of warm-coloured, loose clothing, including simple brown trousers and a woollen jumper, finished with a pair of simple, black house slippers. The jumper was sliding slightly off of one shoulder, revealing an extra sliver of bare skin that was strangely hypnotic.

“You’re awake! I was just debating about grabbing some smelling salts,” he said, his intense brown eyes focused directly on you. His voice was as pretty as the rest of him.

Quite frankly, he was stunning from head to toe. You weren’t even slightly surprised that he was the romantic interest.

The man (the witch, you reminded yourself, a little incredulously) approached you until he was perched on the edge of the sofa at your waist. Without hesitation, he reached out a hand towards your head and rested the back of his palm on your forehead. He felt neither hot nor cold, and a moment later he withdrew his hand, staring down at you stoically.

“How are you feeling? Any nausea? Black spots in your vision? Can you move all of your fingers?”

“No, no, and” -you wiggled your fingers under the blanket- “yes. I’m feeling fine, just a little groggy from waking up.”

“That’s to be expected. You’ve been asleep for at least twenty-five hours. I found you unconscious at the base of a tree in the middle of a storm last night. It was so cold; I was worried you—” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. “That doesn’t matter. You’re safe now.”

“And I appreciate that,” you said, sending him what you hoped was a charming smile. “I prefer having all my fingers attached generally.”

“As most people do,” he replied, solemnly, not seeming to pick up on the joke. You almost made a woosh noise, until you remembered that for him, that had likely been a very genuine concern after finding you, so you let the joke die.

“Why were you—” the word caught in your throat, and you suddenly began to cough, only now realising how hoarse your throat was. Right, you’d been asleep for over a day.

“Oh, you must be thirsty,” Itachi said, frowning. You were overcome with a desire to make him smile. “One moment.”

You were expecting him to get up and fetch a glass from the kitchen, so when he suddenly began leaning towards you, reaching over your head towards the side table, you were a little surprised.  That was nothing however to the surprise you felt when he inadvertently gave you a rather spectacular look straight down his shirt. Your coughing spiked and your face warmed.

“Here.” Itachi leant back down, a glass of water clutched in his left hand. With his right hand, he helped you sit up before handing you the glass. You grabbed it and drained the whole glass immediately. The cool reprieve from the irritating scratching was a welcome feeling. Almost welcome enough to make you forget about Itachi’s blush pink nipples. Almost.

Realistically, you weren’t sure how could you forget a view so enticing. No, stop it, brain, now was not the time. Except… this was the time. This was a pocket dimension based around porn logic and that was your first taste of it.

Wow, who knew porn logic was so delightfully pink and round, you thought giddy.

“Are you feeling better?” Itachi asked suddenly, knocking you out of your thoughts. His jumper was firmly back in the place it was supposed to be.

“Uh, yeah, totally fine.” You knew you must have had a stupid, dazed grin on your face, but knowing about it didn’t make it any easier to stop. “You’re very pretty, by the way.”

Itachi froze, and for the first time since you’d met him, his composure slipped, a tiny, almost unnoticeable blush bloomed high on his cheeks. It was a similar colour to his—Nope, going to stop you right there, brain.

“Oh.” He didn’t say anything else, only staring at you, wide eyed. You were surprised by his surprise. Surely this man was more than used to people fawning and falling all over him; he was objectively beautiful. Although, living in the woods like this, was there anyone else to tell him that he was beautiful? “Thank you.”

The blush lingered for a few more moments before vanishing. Any amount that you had succeeded in flustering him was now locked behind that stoic, but not unkind, face.

“I need you to give me the name of someone I can contact for you, someone willing to escort you home and stop you wandering alone in the woods during a winter storm.” You could feel the gentle rebuke in his words. “I have methods of contacting the nearest towns and villages, I just need to know who to send for. Who should I ask for?”

Right, this was your first attempt at properly engaging in the story, in your character. You had almost forgotten that you weren’t fully yourself in this world. At least your supposed amnesia would be an excellent shield as you came to terms with this experience.

“I don’t know,” you said simply, trying hard to look baffled.

Itachi sent you a sympathetic frown, “You don’t have anyone to contact? Then tell me where you live, and I can escort you home myself.”

“No, I mean, I don’t remember.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You don’t remember?” he eventually repeated, brows furrowed.

“I- I don’t know where I came from, who I am, or why I was in those woods.” This wasn’t your best acting work, for sure, but it seemed like enough to convince Itachi, whose frown deepened even further.

“How is that possible?” Itachi murmured, mostly to himself. He scanned your face but didn’t seem to find anything of note. “Do you remember anything at all?”

“Only basic things, like my name and how to eat and drink.” To prove your point, you gave him your name and rough age.

You watched as Itachi’s frown melted into something a little more determined. His eyes took on a hard edge, and despite his gentle kindness, you acknowledged that he had the potential to be rather intimidating.

“I will help you,” he said firmly, looking you straight in the eyes. “I’m a witch; I can find some way to recover your memories and get you home, I promise. Until then, you are more than welcome to stay with me.”

He really was a kind man, you thought, ‘fictional’ or not.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “It means a great deal to me that you’re willing to help.”

Itachi smiled politely as he stood, “Then I will start searching for a spell or potion that can help. First though, you must be hungry. I think it’s time for some dinner.”

Oh, this was going to get you good; you had such a thing for pretty people cooking for you. There was just something about it that satisfied that part of yourself that wanted to be doted on. You were going to enjoy this. Actually, you should probably check one important thing first.

‘James? Does this body have any allergies or intolerances of its own? Or did I just bring mine with me?’

‘Neither. Allergies and intolerances are inconvenient for erotica stories and thus do not exist.’

No allergies or intolerances at all?

‘James, this is the best day of my life and I want to kiss you on the mouth.’

‘You are supposed to kiss the omega right in front of you, human alpha, are you confused?’

You didn’t reply. Itachi started walking back to the door he’d come from. Just as he reached the doorway, he turned back to you.

“Oh! My name is Itachi,” he said. You knew that, of course, but it was still nice to hear him say it. “Take your time getting up, I’ll set the table and finish up the cooking.” He disappeared round the corner, although he didn’t shut the door behind him.

Ignoring his instructions to take your time, you cheerfully threw back your blankets and stood up, taking a second to shake out your limbs and run your fingers through your hair. You looked exactly as you remembered yourself looking, just dressed in different clothes. You were wearing a very simple long-sleeved shirt and pair of trousers that looked like they would fit in with whatever pseudo time period this was. You wondered briefly if these were your clothes, or if Itachi had dressed you in something of his. The clothes did seem to fit you too well to be borrowed, but you weren’t sure if porn logic made everything that much more convenient. No amount of convenience with clothes would ever trump convenience with food. You had no allergies or intolerances, and you’d never develop them in the future either!

The living room looked a bit smaller now that you were standing, but it only added to the cosy vibe. You took a deep breath, savouring the smell of the firewood burning and whatever was cooking in the kitchen mingling in the air. You followed Itachi into the kitchen, feeling like you could skip with glee.

Stepping in, you were grateful you had socks protecting your feet from the stone floor. The kitchen was small, containing only the necessary kitchen supplies and a tiny, two-person table, although through the window you could see hints of an outdoor kitchen with a fire pit and grill, and a much larger dining table, probably for use in the summer. The clutter from the living room continued into the kitchen, with pots of wooden spoons, pans and dried flowers hanging on the walls, and an impressive spice cabinet that took up almost the entire back wall.

It also looked like something straight out of your Autumn Pinterest board.

Itachi was at the oven, stirring a pot of something that you couldn’t see.

“It smells great,” you said earnestly, sliding up beside him and peering into the pot. It seemed like some kind of stew.

Itachi turned, and greeted you with what seemed like his first proper, genuine smile, “You think so?”

“I do. Thank you so much for cooking.”

You weren’t quite confident enough to stake your life on it, but you were pretty sure that, if the pot on the stove wasn’t bubbling so loudly, you’d have been able to hear him purring. The way he suddenly just so happened to be pressing one hand to his mouth only supported your theory. Clearly, this omega hadn’t been praised enough in his life. Thank goodness you were here to rectify that.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I can lay the table if you tell me where everything is.”

Itachi cleared his throat (and you could swear there was a hint of a purr in there!), “No, that’s alright, just sit down, I’ll handle it.”

“Are you sure, because—”

Itachi clicked his fingers and out of one of the cabinets floated two bowls and two glasses. You watched, completely stunned as they floated to the table and set themselves neatly in front of two of the chairs. Itachi then waved his hand at one of the drawers and two forks and two spoons did the same as the dishware, laying themselves neatly alongside the bowls.

Magic.

Real life magic.

Holy shit, you hadn’t thought about the fact that he was a witch, not really. Magic was real. Itachi just laid the table with magic. You sat down heavily in one of the chairs, mouth hanging open slightly.

‘James?!’ you mentally asked, desperately.

‘I cannot kiss you, human alpha.’

‘What? No! James, is it possible for me to learn magic in this world?’ Please say yes, please say yes.

‘Yes, everyone in this world has the ability to learn at least some kind of magic. It will not become clear how much magic you have until you are actually apart of this world, but I should imagine you will at least be capable of brewing potions.’

Yep, this was definitely the best day of your life. Or afterlife? Either way, if you picked this world, you’d be able to learn at least some magic. That counteracted a lot of the downsides of living without modern technology that you had been considering. Not having modern medicine was moot if potions were just as effective. Not having electric heaters was fine if warming charms existed.

Itachi knocked you out of your thoughts when he came over with the pot and began gently ladling the stew into your bowl. You would explore magic later, right now, was time to eat.

…

You had eaten most of the stew in a silence that neither you nor Itachi felt compelled to break, although you had noticed him sneaking glances at you every so often. The stew tasted homey, hearty, slightly sweet, and all around delicious.

‘James, I am so happy right now.’

‘I did not realise humans were so passionate about stew. I will make a note.’

You shook you head lightly, vaguely amused by James’ shenanigans.

Even with the display of magic earlier, things felt weirdly normal. Baring the nip slip from earlier, there hadn’t been any other porn logic that you’d noticed. It was kind of a relief. Although you were still incredibly excited to be horny on main forever, being able to just breathe and enjoy a nice meal was good too. No one wanted to have sex shoved in their faces 24 hours a day.

You attracted yet another glance from Itachi, but this time, you noticed that he had a tiny splash of stew at the corner of his mouth. Despite just finishing establishing your relief that porn wasn’t going to be shoved in your face, you felt immediately compelled to test some porn logic. You didn’t want to ruminate on what that rapid 180 mental turn might suggest about your psyche.

If porn logic was at play, could you just… reach and wipe his mouth for him? Would he take that positively? You debated on it for a bit, but ultimately decided to try it; you had amnesia for an excuse if he didn’t take it well, and it wasn’t so creepy that he’d hate you, hopefully. He was your love interest, right? You needed to flirt with him.

“Itachi?” you said softly, shuffling your chair slightly towards him. His head snapped up to yours, spoon hovering over his bowl. “You have a little something.”

Slowly, allowing him plenty of time to reject your advances, you reached a hand out towards his face. Itachi watched you, wide eyed, but didn’t move.

Slowly, your thumb made contact with the corner of his soft lips. In what seemed like some kind of automatic impulse, Itachi’s lips fell apart slightly as soon as you touched them. You could feel his hot, stuttering breath, and as you swiped the stew away, you were treated to the smallest flicker of his tongue. You shivered as the wet warmth brushed against you; the atmosphere was electric.

You took in a breath of Itachi’s scent which was suddenly twice as strong. Yeah, you were definitely in an erotica, fuck.

Itachi’s spoon clattered back into his bowl, splashing droplets of stew over the wooden table and shattering the heated moment. Itachi stood suddenly, his chair scraping across the stone.

“I- I’ll wipe up the spill,” he said, rushing to the counter to grab a cloth.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your smile, “Right, you do that.”

Pretty omega, inviting you to stay in his home, cooking for you, accepting your flirtations. The heat in your stomach was no longer just from the food.

The electricity died as Itachi wiped up the stew and took the bowls in one fell swoop, leaving everything feeling normal. You tried to offer to wash up, but Itachi declined, escorting you back to the sofa ‘to rest’.

“I’m going to go and check in my study for any information on amnesia. Please make yourself at home, but don’t go outside; if you faint in the cold and I don’t realise, it could end up worse than last time.”

You were about to argue that you weren’t going to drop dead the second he took his eyes off you, (you wanted to see the magical woods you were in!), but the words died when you realised that from Itachi’s perspective you were sick and had already fainted in an inopportune location once before. He was just looking out for you.

“I’ll stay inside,” you promised, reluctantly. “But you have to give me a proper tour of the woods at some point, okay?”

He inclined his head, “Of course. I won’t be long.” He then disappeared through a door on the other side of the living room.

The second he was gone you went back into the kitchen and washed the dishes.

Then, unable to see the woods, and not wanting to be creepily exploring the rest of the house without your host, you found yourself in front of the fire, searching through Itachi’s books. Unfortunately, Itachi seemed to keep all the magic books somewhere else, which wasn’t surprising you supposed, but you did manage to find a book on fairytales. How different would this world’s fairytales be? To be honest, you hadn’t expected the world to be so in depth as to have its own fairytales at all.

You flicked through the book for a few minutes, enjoying the illustrations more than anything.

‘James, are any of these stories based in truth in this world?’

‘Oh, I should think only around half have any significant amount of truth to them.’

‘Half?!’ you said mentally, trying not to choke. ‘I’m in the middle of the woods and vulnerable! What do you mean half of them are real? That big foot esque thing with horns and jagged teeth on page three isn’t real though, is it?’

‘Not anymore!’ James said, as chipper as can be.

“Right,” you said breathlessly. “I think I’ve had enough of reading fairytales actually.” You closed the book, intending to slot it back onto the shelf when a single page fell out and fluttered to the floor, dangerously close to the fire. Fuck, you were left alone for an hour, and you were already wrecking things. You snatched it up off the ground, intending to slip it back inside and not mention it, when you realised that the page didn’t look like it belonged to that book at all.

In fact, you held it up closer to your face, it looked like a potion recipe!

“’Amnesia Reversal Potion’,” you read out loud. “No way.” What were the odds on finding this? Actually, erotica books didn’t normally have complicated plots, so the odds of this literally falling into your lap were probably quite high.

You stood up, recipe in hand, and went to the door that Itachi had left through earlier, “Itachi?” You got no response. It was his study, so maybe he wouldn’t mind you just poking your head in. You slowly pushed open the door and slipped your head in. “Itachi? I think I found something to—”

Oh.

This was his study and his bedroom.

And you had just walked in on him changing.

Itachi jumped in shock, grabbing the nearest blanket and holding it over his chest while you stood frozen in the doorway.

Yep, those beautiful nipples were absolutely haunting your dreams tonight.

…

After many apologies were handed out and the awkward horniness of receiving your second accidental flashing had dissipated somewhat, you and Itachi were sitting in front of the fire together, looking over the potion recipe that you’d found.

It was dark now, and the vicious Winter wind shook the windows and billowed around the chimney. Thankfully, having Itachi pressed against your side was fighting the chill away. The hot chocolate that Itachi had made was helping too, served in mugs carved with runes that kept the delicious drink at the perfect temperature.

You had also been delighted to discover that Itachi wore glasses when reading, and he looked rather adorable when he adjusted the thick, black frames as he scanned the recipe.

Itachi made a considering noise as he went through the ingredient list, “The potion is simple to make, but has quite a long ingredients list. I have most of it, thankfully, but there are a few things I’ll need to go out and buy or collect.” He put the paper down and took a sip of his hot chocolate, making a little sinful noise of pleasure as he did. The hot drink fogged up his glasses, so Itachi took them off. “There isn’t much we can do tonight, but tomorrow I can start collecting everything we need.”

“Can I join you?” you asked, shuffling a bit closer.

Itachi seemed surprised, but soon that melted into a smile, “Of course, as long as you’re feeling up to it. I’ll charm all your clothes against the cold, just to be safe.”

A fair request seeing that he lived in the middle of a freezing forest. It did bring up some of the questions you’d had for him though. You weren’t sure if James knew about Itachi’s backstory, but it felt wrong going behind his back regardless. You’d rather hear it from him.

“Can I ask you some questions? About you?”

Itachi hesitated for a moment before seemingly forcing himself to relax, “Of course.”

“Why do you live in the middle of nowhere? Do you… have friends?” You hesitated before asking the next question. “Family?”

“I used to live in a village not too far from here,” Itachi said slowly, staring into his mug. “It’s where I was born and where my family is still living. There was an… incident, when I was a teenager. The council decided that it was in everyone’s best interests that I lived out here instead.”

“What kind of incident?” You didn’t want to push him too much, but you were deeply fascinated as to how he had ended up here. Also, to make a decision for your forever pocket universe, you wanted to know as much as possible about the omegas that’d be joining you.

Itachi gripped his mug tightly, “I don’t want you to think badly of me.”

“I don’t think that would happen,” you said with quiet confidence. “Even if you did something bad as a teenager, I’d much rather judge you on who you are now. And the person I see in front of me is someone kind, someone who tries to help complete strangers, and forgives the stupid alpha who came blundering into his bedroom at an inopportune moment.”

Itachi breathed out, amused.

“I think you’re wonderful, Itachi.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, quietly. “Maybe I’ll tell you the full story someday. In a way, I’m very grateful to have my own space, and I still meet with my family sometimes when they can make the trip to me. I do not dislike my life.”

“Tell me about your family,” you said, brushing a stray piece of hair out of his face. Itachi leant into your hand ever so slightly.

“There were four of us in our household, my father, mother, and my younger brother, Sasuke. Here” -Itachi bent forward and dragged a rather large, leather-bound sketch book out from under the sofa- “I have some sketches of him.”

He propped the book up on your laps and opened it, revealing countless sketches of trees, fruit, plants, even some of the living room you were sitting in. You noticed immediately how few there were of people.

Itachi flipped until he reached a page filled with sketches of a grumpy looking preteen, “This is Sasuke, he’s just turned 13, although the most recent sketch is this one from his 12th birthday.”

You focused on the sketch that Itachi had pointed out. Sasuke looked like he was scowling over the top of a birthday cake. “He seems… happy?”

Itachi didn’t notice the questioning tone, only smiling to himself, “He was, it was such an amazing day. I’ve met him a few times since then between our homes, but that was the last time he was in my home.”

“I can tell that you care about him a lot,” you said, gently tracing one of the drawings with your finger. “You must miss him.”

Itachi didn’t speak and you were worried that you had offended him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“No, you’re right,” Itachi said, giving you a sad smile. “He’s my baby brother. He’s everything to me, but that’s why I had to distance myself, to keep him safe from the burden of guilt by association.”

“Aren’t you lonely here though?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, voice heavy like he was confessing to a dirty secret. “All I wanted when I was younger was to have people leave me alone, to have the pressure lifted for just one day, and I do relish it, being able to study the kind of magic that I want, to learn to cook and bring my garden to life, but… It’s not bad here, not at all, and once my brother is old enough to make the journey to see me by himself, I think things will be even better.”

You could tell that there was so much that he wasn’t saying, so much that he was implying, and so much about his own life that he hadn’t come to terms with yet, but you held your tongue. It sounded like he’d been pressured until he exploded, and then been punished and sent away for it. Whatever details you were missing wouldn’t stop you feeling outraged on his behalf.

With the snap of the sketch book shutting, you understood that he was ending the conversation though. You would have to give your passionate and ill-informed defence of his unknown past actions on another occasion.

Itachi leant over to put the sketchbook back away under the sofa, but on the way back up, he accidentally knocked what was left of his hot chocolate all over your lap. You gasped as you saw the liquid pooling on the blanket, the warmth bleeding into your skin moments later. You tried to push the blanket off your lap, but you weren’t fast enough to stop it leaking through to your clothes.

“I’m so sorry!” Itachi said, helping you drag the blanket off. “I don’t know what happened, I’m not normally so clumsy.”

“It’s okay,” you said, cringing at the feeling of the hot liquid rolling around. “Accidents happen.” You awkward shuffled off the couch with your hips raised to limit the damage. “At least it isn’t boiling hot.”

“Regardless, I’m sorry,” Itachi said again, grabbing a random cloth off the side table. “Stand still.” Itachi crouched in front of you and with the cloth, began dabbing firmly at the hot chocolate stain. Yes, the stain that was directly over your crotch.

You sucked in a breath, “Um, Itachi?”

“I’ll have to grab you a pair of pyjama trousers to borrow,” he said, almost comically unaware of what he was currently doing.

He continued to dab forcefully, rubbing at the stain in an attempt to limit the damage. This was going to be dangerous in about three seconds because an omega was pawing at your cock and your stupid body didn’t care about the difference between this and the other kind of pawing.

“Itachi!” you said, more urgently this time, aware of the direction your blood was now flowing.

“Yes?” He looked up at you, eyes wide, at an angle that really didn’t help resist the tide of dirty thoughts. You wondered how he’d look with that beautiful face covered in your--  

Too late. You now had a massive boner and Itachi’s hand was resting right on top of it.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “Your hand, Itachi.”

You watched as Itachi slowly put the pieces together, his eyes tracking from his hand to the area his hand was resting on, up to your face, and finally back to your crotch. You saw the exact moment that it clicked in his head.

“Oh.” Itachi froze, hand still resting on your erection. The cloth dropped to the ground as Itachi’s grip weakened, revealing the outline of your cock straining against the fabric of your trousers. The soft, malleable fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. “That’s… big.”

You snort-laughed, mainly out of surprise, “Itachi!”

That finally did the trick, knocking Itachi out of his trance. He yanked his hand back like he’d been burnt, “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.”

You burst out laughing while Itachi buried his red face in his hands. It was extra amusing because it was stoic Itachi who had accidentally been two pieces of fabric away from giving you a handjob. Porn logic was equal parts horny and hilarious, it seemed.

“Don’t worry about it.” You continued to giggle through the words and helped Itachi to his feet. “Can you grab me some pyjamas and point me in the direction of the bathroom, please?”

“Right, yes, of course, the bathroom is through that door, I’ll go grab you something to wear and leave it outside the door.” Itachi scurried off, cheeks pink, and you followed his directions into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the door and closing it behind you.

It was weird to see a bathroom lit only by warm candlelight, but there were certainly enough candles to do it. Every surface had at least three candles and a plant, arranged in a way that made you once again think of your Pinterest board, but also of the massive fire hazard this would surely be if Itachi couldn’t do magic.

You leant against the bathroom door and pressed a hand over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heartbeat. This porn logic thing felt good for your soul and bad for your heart. That whole series of events had been pretty funny though, and you certainly weren’t going to complain about having Itachi’s hands on you. Even though you’d only known him for a day, you were already very happy with your choice. Actually, that brought up a great question.

‘James? How long do I have in each of the pocket dimensions?’

‘Long enough, human alpha.’

You huffed; that was so unhelpful. What was also unhelpful was your massive boner. While this was an erotica, things hadn’t moved so quickly that you thought Itachi would be down for going all the way on your first night, and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You wanted to move a little more slowly, to make sure he was comfortable and savour the moment. You also refused to blow this like those incels James had mentioned. You were above that which meant the boner had to go.

“Please go down?” you tried asking politely, taking off your stained trousers. It stayed stubbornly upright, not even wilting slightly once exposed to the cold air. You sighed; that never worked. Well, here goes nothing.

You moved over to the sink and turned on the cold tap, a grimace already forming on your face.

‘James, wish me luck.’

‘Why do you need—’

You yelped loud enough that some birds outside the window took flight in shock. Fuck, that was cold!

…

When that was sorted, you opened the door to find a neat pile of pyjamas, shower supplies, a towel, and toothbrush waiting for you. A quick (and almost certainly magically warmed) shower later and you were ready for bed.

Exiting the bathroom, you realised that the sofa wasn’t made up as a bed anymore, the way it had been when you’d first woken up. Itachi was nowhere to be seen, so you went to his bedroom door to find him. Having learnt your lesson from before, you knocked and waited to be called in.

“Hey,” you said softly, entering his bedroom. You watched as he extinguished some of his candles with a candle snuffer, bathing the room in a much gentler light. The large candle shaped like a black cat that he had on his chest of drawers made you smile. You hadn’t seen it the first time, probably because you’d been distracted by two very cute, pink, round things, that you were not supposed to be thinking about brain, now was not the time!

“Hello.” He turned around and you pretended not to see the way his eyes flickered straight to your crotch before settling on your face.

“I was just going to ask if we could set the sofa back up into a bed,” you said, trying not to preen under the attention your cock had garnered from the pretty omega. Maybe he’d be thinking about that while you were thinking about his pretty nipples.

Itachi averted his eyes for a moment as he put down the candle snuffer, “It’s very cold tonight.”

“It is.”

“I’m worried that I don’t have enough blankets to keep the both of us warm, and you might still be unwell from fainting in the snowstorm, so I was thinking, do you… I mean, would you want to share my bed? With me?” Itachi spoke quickly, like he was pushing the words out as fast as possible while he still avoided making eye contact.

A grin slowly bloomed on your face; he was so cute.

“If you don’t mind, that’d be great,” you said, trying to keep your grin from coming across as creepy.

“Really?” His head spun around to face you again, his hair, which you only just realised had been freed from his ponytail, fanned out around his face. “I mean, that’s great.”

You stepped closer to him, “Great.”

He stepped closer to you, “Yeah.”

Somehow that electricity from earlier was back in the air and you felt like you were being pulled into Itachi’s orbit. Without your conscious permission, one of your hands rose and gently cupped the left side of Itachi’s face, rubbing the soft skin there with your thumb.  

You searched his face for any sign of discomfort but found none. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.  

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, reverently. Itachi’s eyes looked glossy for a moment, but he blinked the moisture away, his long, dark eyelashes fluttering open and closed as you studied him. “I know I’ve only been here for a day, but… Is it strange to say I really like you.’

Itachi took in a sharp breath, but slowly shook his head.

 “Then, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Itachi breathed out, immediately closing his eyes.

Good, because he was irresistible, and although you knew it wasn’t time for sex just yet, you hadn’t chosen erotica because you wanted a slow burn.

Slowly, giving Itachi ample time to change his mind, you inched your face closer to his until you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. You expected to feel his breath too, but you quickly realised that he must have been holding it. How cute. Well, there was no need to leave him literally or figuratively holding his breath any longer.

You pressed forward and made the connection, warm lips against warm lips, your own eyes falling closed now too. Itachi let out a very quiet noise of surprise that you only heard because you were so close to him. You let out a little hum of your own, less out of shock and more out of satisfaction. You may have only known him for about five hours, but you’d been wanting to kiss him for at least four and a half of them.

The outside world faded away as you gently guided his lips with your own. The sound of the wind howling and the cottage walls groaning, the fire in the living room crackling, all of it was secondary to the kiss.

With your free arm, you looped Itachi around the waist and tugged him closer until your chests were pressed against each other. Itachi steadied himself with one hand on your raised elbow and the other on your shoulder. Being this close was making your alpha instincts incredibly smug. He felt safe with you so soon, willing to be vulnerable in your presence, to let you love him.

With just a little bit more pressure, Itachi’s lips parted for you. The tips of your tongues met ever so slightly, just flicking against each other as the back of your throat now burnt with Itachi’s scent. The open-mouthed kissing managed to coax another, louder, noise from his lips.

“So good,” you murmured against him, relishing in the gasp that generated. You had been right; Itachi loved being praised. He was still hesitant though, only moving his lips in ways you had already moved them. He was allowing you to guide him. You wondered if he was lacking experience.

You caught Itachi’s bottom lip between your teeth and were rewarded when he bucked his hips forward, brushing them against yours. You shouldn’t have bothered getting rid of the erection earlier, because it was now back at full force. And by the feel of it, Itachi was joining you this time.

A strange flash of light bled through your closed eyelids and forced you away from Itachi with a confused noise. What on Earth?

Itachi whined, looking incredibly dazed with heavy lidded eyes and no control over his scent. He fisted one hand in your shirt like he was trying to pull you back. For a second, you thought you saw his eyes flash red, but it was gone in the next moment, and you wrote it off as a trick of the light.

What was that light, anyway?

Oh, damn. You glanced over Itachi’s shoulder and were greeted with the three remaining lit candles burning out of control. Their flames reached up at least two feet above the wick, and they were burning… pink?

“Um, Itachi? Your candles are kind of going crazy.”

He whirled around, still looking a bit dazed. With a wave of his hand, the candles returned to their normal height and colour. Itachi cleared his throat bashfully, “I didn’t mean to do that, my apologies.”

It was kind of hot that he got so into the kiss that he’d lost control of his magic.

“It’s okay,” you brushed his fringe from his face, making sure to be ever so gentle with him. Itachi was not a weak person, that’s something you were sure of, but he was weak for gentle affection and praise. The vaguely stoic man you had met hours earlier was nowhere to be found now, as Itachi gazed at you, eyes wide and open, vulnerable. “Bedtime, hm?”

“Okay,” he said, softly. Despite his agreement, he made no move to the bed, only latching one of his hands onto your shirt again. Softly you pushed on his back a little and guided him towards the bed. Only once you fully tucked him in did he let go of you and allow you to climb into the other side.

Disappointingly, Itachi made no move to cuddle, staying firmly on his own side, but you understood that he probably needed some space to process what was happening. In fact, he had kind of looked a little like some of your old partners had done when you’d put them in subspace. But that couldn’t be right, there was no way you had put him in subspace just from kissing him, right? No, that was ludicrous, he was probably just a little overwhelmed; you would leave him to his own space for now.

It had been one hell of a kiss though, you thought, touching your lips as you got yourself comfortable in the bed. Itachi was doing things to your brain and your body. You didn’t know if it was him, some kind of magic, or the effect of living inside an erotica novel, but every touch felt like so much more. You were chomping at the bit to eventually get to explore more of Itachi’s body and the way you could make each other feel.

You yawned, thinking over the first day you’d had. It had been really fun. You still had to consider the specifics of what kind of backstory you wanted to give yourself, but you had plenty of time to figure that out later. You didn’t know how you were going to explain wandering the woods in the middle of a snowstorm what sounded like miles from the nearest village. You were also going to have to get your hands on a map at some point so you could name an actual place that you were supposedly from. That was a problem for future you though.

The quaint, cottage core existence had been treating you well, supplemented by magic of course. It was making you feel warm and fuzzy, like part of you was being healed by living like this. It was simple and relaxing, and all around nice. Tomorrow, when the search for the ingredients began, you were looking forward to seeing more of the world.

Just as you had finally found a comfortable position on your back, and your thoughts had begun to drift, Itachi turned over so that he was facing you. You couldn’t tell if he was fully asleep, or just tired and acting on impulse, but he quickly plastered himself to your side, tucking his head into your neck, wrapping an arm around your torso, and hitching a leg over your hips, inadvertently grinding his hard cock straight into your thigh. Once he was comfortable, he let out a big sigh and relaxed completely. It didn’t surprise you that someone so lonely and gentle wanted to cuddle in his sleep.

You weren’t going to move him, and you were too tired to think about the hard warmth that was currently poking you, so you simply allowed the sound of his quiet purrs to lull you to sleep. You would make sure he was satisfied once you’d both had a good sleep.

‘Goodnight, James,’ you mentally slurred out, tucking your face into Itachi’s hair. You vaguely heard her reply before you drifted away, comfortable and completely exhausted.

Next Chapter

#the quest for a second life #omegaverse #a/b/o #alpha!reader #naruto #itachi #omega!itachi #prose #n-sfw #reader insert #itachi uchiha #dom!reader #dom reader #alpha reader #sub itachi #sub!itachi

[magics-neptunes-things]

Fire and Ice

Hi guys!

Yes I know it's me again! I got a request for a story with Leah, so here is a story with Leah.

I'm open to request btw :)

I hope this story will please you, I tried to stick as much as possible to the way I imagine Leah’s dynamique.

Part 2 is HERE :) and the chapter bonus HERE.

Thanks everyone ♥

____________________________________________________________

New to Arsenal, you’ve only been part of this team since this summer. You left Bayern Munich at the end of you contract and after some hesitation between different clubs, you finally chose Arsenal. Lyon would have loved to hire you too, but you felt that English football was probably better if you wanted to continue to evolve in your career. You're only 21 and hopefully, many years ahead of you.

You were scared at first to be honest, you know the team had a lot of players who already know themselves. But Lia was particularly welcoming to you, playing the role of a little mother. Frida, who is also your teammate in the Norway team, decided to show you her favorite places in London and Alessia who arrived at the same time as you quickly offered to do the exercises in training together.

In reality, your arrival at Arsenal was very smooth even if some personalities continue to impress you a little. For example Leah, Beth or Katie. As a result, you have very little interactions with them, as Leah’s injury has not helped to create a special bond with her. Even if she was present on the day of your presentation to the rest of the group, wanted to welcome you like the others.

You do, however, enjoy evenings organized by your teammates and you go regularly. Far from your family, you don’t know anyone here and it makes you feel less alone.

So here you are, in Leah's appartment with some of the Arsenal girls. You hesitated to come since Frida wasn't here, but Alessia is and hasn’t given you much choice to do otherwise. Leah was in charge of the cocktails and only gave Lia a smirk when she asked her what she put in it. You took the time to discreetly sniff the mixture before bringing it to your lips, pleasantly surprised by the sweetness of the drink. A little misleading though, because after two or three drinks, getting up to go to the toilet took a little longer than usual.

When you came back, you drop on the couch next to Alessia, trying to get back into the conversation. You became bit uncomfortable when you realize that the discussion has turned on the girls being in couple or those who are not. You are single obviously, finding it particularly difficult to have a long-distance relationship, or with one of your teammates. In the case of a breakup, you were always afraid that it would be too complicated for you to handle.

So you say nothing, hoping that hiding behind your glass will save you from possible questions. You are very naive.

"And you, Y/N? You never mention anyone, I guess you're single?"

Beth’s question makes you grimace and you find yourself nervously biting the edge of your plastic glass before answering a simple "Yes".

"Why that?" asks Beth and you just shrugs.

"We should make her up with someone" Katie decide and you can't help but laugh a little.

"I’m a little demanding about my partner"

"Not a problem"

You roll your eyes before taking a new sip of your drink, crossing Leah’s gaze. She seems lost in her thoughts, twirling her glass in her hand. Your eyes cross a split second and you hurry to report it to Katie when she speaks again.

"We should make you profil though. Like in a dating app"

"OMG yes, I going to take something to write!"

Alessia chuckles next to you and you can't help but smile too. You don’t really take this seriously, given everyone’s blood alcohol levels, you’re sure that half of this evening will be forgotten by tomorrow morning. So you decide to play the game with a smile.

"Ok, first question" Beth begin with a notepad and a pen. "What is your house in Hogwarts?"

"How is that even a question?" Katie answers with a disgusting face.

"It's not because you don't like Harry Potter than it's the same for everyone, McCabe"

************

You let the two girls ask you questions for twenty minutes, ignoring the departure of several of your teammates. Now it’s just you, Katie, Lotte, Beth, Leah and Alessia.

"Are you a good kisser?" Beth asked, looking over her sheet.

"How am I even supposed to know that?" you ask, giggling.

"I don't know, it's your kissing skills, not mine."

You roll your eyes before answering.

"I've never received any complaints"

"Does it count?" Katie asked while looking at Beth.

"Not really. Is there anyone in this room who can testify to that?"

"What? No!" you laugh softly.

You, in reality, only have two relationship in your life and both didn't end really well. Football keeping you very busy, you maybe weren't a great girlfriend. But that doesn’t mean your first girlfriend’s infidelity should be excused, in your opinion. Anyway, the next sentence coming from Beth's mouth take you back in the reality.

"Maybe we need a sincere testimony from someone we trust…" Katie said thoughtfully.

"Maybe we can make her kiss someone here, now?" Beth answers with the same tone.

"Excuse me?" you ask with a certain concern.

But the two women didn't seem to give it the slightest care, continuing in their dialogue which makes you slightly think of Dupont and Dupond in Tintin.

"Leah is definitely the most experienced of us, she has a hunt board longer than the number of goals scored by Alexia Putellas at FC Barcelona."

"What the fuck?"

This is the first time of the evening that you hear Leah's voice, who had been content until then to make cocktails and dance in the kitchen with Lia and Caitlin. Both of Beth and Katie laugh at her offended face, finally out of their common monologue.

"Come on Leah, you have to kiss Y/N to help her finding love"

"Don't I have any say in this?" you say softly.

Beth’s gaze makes you realize that you don’t really have much of a say, but it’s especially Leah’s piercing gaze that you feel on you that electrifies you. Leah is a very beautiful woman and you must admit that if you hadn't been teammates, maybe you would have thought of her differently. But there is also her assertive and confident personality that can sometimes confuse you, you who is rather quiet and discreet, you are a bit like fire and ice.

But tonight, your eyes meet a few seconds and for once you don't look away. It's even finally Leah who looks away to look at Beth.

"Ok" Leah answers before getting up "But I'm not doing it in front of everyone. Close all your damn pretty eyes"

They all agreed without saying any word, Alessia swaping place with Leah on the couches. The captain waits patiently for everyone to close their eyes, before looking at you.

"You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, right? You're sure you want to?" she asks softly.

So softly that it surprises you at first. And you almost immediately feel overwhelmed by a wave of guilt, after all you are very well placed to know that Leah knows how to take care of the people around her. She showed it to you several times as captain of her team.

"I am" you simply answer, before adding "And you?"

"Hey don't worry about me. Go on" she gives you a smirk of her own and you smile back.

You feel particularly nervous though, becoming a little aware of the situation you’re in. Leah doesn’t seem particularly drunk, but you’re hoping she won’t be mad at you tomorrow when she realizes things. You wait a few more seconds, detailing her face and eyes looking for a trace of hesitation. But you find nothing and you finally decide to break the physical distance between you two.

Your eyes left hers and you look at her lips for a few moments, certainly looking at them for the first time. It doesn't last long however. Like a second after that, you close your eyes, your lips gently touching hers. At this distance, you can smell her perfume and shampoo. Her lips are soft and have the flavor of the cocktail she has prepared for you all evening.

But that’s not what’s calling you.

What's calling you is the way your whole body seems to react to a simple peck with Leah Williamson.

You feel like every part of your body is burning up and asking for more of Leah’s. And that's scared the shit out of you. That’s why you step back after a few seconds, wide-eyed, looking for an explanation on Leah’s face. But you can’t find anything and you can’t even determine the emotion in her eyes.

"Tell us when you're finished" Katie points.

Of course, you forgot about them. Everything that didn’t concern Leah directly had been completely zapped by your brain.

"Shut up. We haven’t even started"

Leah answers for both of you and you hardly swallow, not at all recovering from the emotions you felt. That you still feel. A second later, Leah grabs your face with both hands before kissing you. You don't lose a second before responding to her kiss, your lips moving together with an ease you have never felt before.

It's easy for you to get lost in this kiss, the sensations mixing so much that you completely lose the notion of things. Your hands slide over Leah’s hips and you find yourself sitting on her, your legs on either side of hers.

That doesn’t seem to bother her though, her tong easily finding access to yours. Your lips only separate for a few seconds, until you get enough air to start your dance again. And again.

You could have sincerely spent the rest of the evening - the night - kissing her, but one of them had to realize that you were going to get the attention of your teammates. It was Leah who put an end to the kiss first, snatching from your embrace as breathless as you. You don’t look away this time either when she looks at you, before gently pushing you away so that you find your original place on the couch.

You could have taken this as a gesture of reject, but the smile and wink she offers you when she gets up seems to be there only to reassure you that it’s not. You follow her with your eyes as she discreetly go behind the couch, leaning on her backrest, above where she was sitting until now.

"How is it possible that it lasts so long?" Alessia wines and you smile when you hear Leah's laugh.

The other girls open their eyes and the surprise appears on almost every face by discovering your positioning.

"Did you really think I was going to kiss someone to please you? Well everyone out now, I need my beauty sleep."

Rolling their eyes or grumbling, your teammates obeyed quickly. After exchanging greetings, you follow Alessia who promised to take you home. Still disturbed by these kisses, you can’t help but turn around while closing the front door hoping to meet Leah’s gaze.

You succeed, while she leaned against the central island of her kitchen. The same look as the one she used to look at you earlier appears on her face, but you can’t study it as long as you would like since you feel Alessia’s hand grab your arm, suddenly eager to find her bed.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine

[heartateasee]

“Epilogue”

Word Count: 19.2k (a long one, but it didn’t feel right to split it up)

(Epilogue for ‘Goodnight and Go’)

Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving) and unprotected sex

⋆★★⋆

*Late winter - a little over three years since the wedding*

*It will be notated in the chapter when the song is meant to start. I highly encourage you to start it when it comes into play, but you can also do whatever your sweet heart desires!*

Sitting in my go to cafe, I jot down another thought into my journal as I take a sip of my black coffee. Today had been a heavy mental day, and I just needed to get out of my house to clear my head. My therapist tasked me with taking up journaling at the end of my first month of therapy - my fourth session. She asked me to start out with lists that she would give me, but then after a while she told me just to jot down whatever came to mind. Even though I wasn't actively in therapy anymore, I still held onto this - it was enough for me to not have to go to an appointment every week.

I was proud of myself for that. I've been able to use the tools given to me to be able to tend to my own mind, and to talk myself down - only having to see my therapist when absolutely necessary.

I couldn't pinpoint why today in particular had my mind so boggled though. There wasn't anything upcoming that I was stressed about that I could think of off the top of my head.

My pen continues to scratch over the page, and I feel that my eyebrows are narrowed in concentration as I let out thought after thought. I could feel the fog in my mind starting to ease with each line, but still...it didn't seem to be enough.

As much as I have gotten a good grip on myself and my emotions, there were days that I still just felt...off. Today was definitely one of them. It wasn't so much anxiousness or nervousness that I was feeling - something that I've battled with for the past two years. It was something different. It was something that I couldn't exactly put my finger on, and I think that's what caused my mind to race from the moment I opened my eyes this morning.

The cafe was bustling on this Saturday morning, and I was lucky that I was able to get my usual two seat table in the back corner. Although I can hear the baristas loud and clear from here, the rest of the noise in the cafe seems to drown due to how far back I am.

"Order for Carter!"

My pen stops, and I take a moment to blink at the page.

It can't be her.

Shaking my head, I push the thought from my mind as I chew on my bottom lip - trying to figure out how to phrase what I want to write down next.

It's not until I see a streak of red hair out of my peripheral that I finally look up.

There's no mistaking the woman smiling as she picks up her cup off the counter. She digs into her bag, and I can see that she's given the barista a postcard with an illustration of a flower on it. There's some kind of quote on the back, and by the look on the barista's face, it must be something kind, or inspirational.

Before I can even think about it, I push myself up from my seat to get a better look. My movement must have been caught out of the corner of her eye because it's barely a few seconds later that she's looking at me.

She holds her paper cup in both hands as we stare at each out from a ways across the cafe - her expression unreadable.

I hadn't seen her since the wedding. After that, she disappeared from my life completely. I had tried for months to reach her, but I never got any response. Gwen had told me she had tried to do the same. I'd only found out just in the past year that was a lie.

No one saw Carter that first Christmas after everything.

After that, the holidays were always separated due to the fact that Carter and Gwen's parents divorced only a few months after the wedding. I knew that  Carter spent the holidays with her father while Gwen and I spent them with mother. Their parents hardly had any communication with each other, and I knew that their mother hadn't attempted to reach out to Carter at all - something she made very clear whenever she could.

I should've realized then what this all would become.

Carter's brown eyes look around for a moment before she starts to walk over to me, and I immediately feel my hands begin to shake.

"Harry," she says, just barely meeting my eyes now that she was closer to me. "Hi."

"Hi, Carter," my voice almost sounds strained as I speak, and I clear my throat almost immediately. "I...I didn't know you were visiting."

"Oh, no," she shakes her head. "I'm not visiting. I moved back a couple of months ago. This place has become a regular spot for me. I don't live too far from here."

I raise my eyebrows at her words, and it's then I can see she's looking past me to get a view of the table I had been sitting at - as if she were looking for someone else.

"Do you want to sit?" I ask, turning around and gesturing to the chair across from the one I had been occupying. "I'm here by myself."

Carter takes a moment before she nods. "Okay."

I pull the seat out for her, which earns me a small 'thank you', before I sit back in my own seat. Carter turns to hang her bag on the back of her chair before she's facing forward once more - both of her hands finding their way around her cup again.

Her eyes look down at my journal, and I quickly close it - pulling it from the table to slip into the green tote bag I had brought with me.

"You journal?" She asks, tilting her head to the side.

"Uh, yeah," I lift a hand to rub the back of my neck. I've never really talked to anyone but my therapist about my journaling before. "For about a year or so now."

Carter hums as she nods, pursing her lips to the side. "I do too, but I'm going on about two and a half years. I picked it up when I started therapy."

My chest aches as I can see a sheen of sadness in her eyes for a moment before it disappears. "I started it up for the same reason too."

I can tell this surprises her, and silence blankets over us for a moment.

"Are you still tattooing?" I ask - grimacing when I realize just how awkward this feels between us.

"I am," I watch as a large smile creeps onto Carter's face. "I'm actually working at the shop with Duncan again. He was nice enough to hire me back as soon as I told him I'd be moving home. He was thrilled, actually."

"Of course he was," I say, laughing a bit. "You're exceptional at what you do, Carter. Any shop would be lucky to have you."

Carter's cheeks flush due to my compliment, and I watch as she lifts her cup to her mouth. She hisses quickly as she pulls it away, and I know she's burned her tongue.

"Here," I reach forward without hesitation to take the cup from her.

Her eyes are trained on my every move as I pull the lid off the cup, setting it down on a napkin on the table. This was something I did for her quite often when we were in college. There was a bookstore/coffee shop that we frequented a few days a week, and Carter was never one to be patient and wait for her drink to cool properly. I started doing this as a quick solution without her even asking. It just became a habit for me.

I can tell her eyes are on my left hand, and then she looks up at me. "You...you're not..."

"I'm not...what?"

Carter looks back at my hand before looking at my face again. "You're not wearing your ring."

My eyebrows knit together as I look at her. "Carter," I start, and I can tell she's genuinely curious as to why that particular piece of jewelry is missing. "Gwen and I are divorced."

Her eyes widen for a moment, and I watch as the color leaves her face. "O-Oh....oh," she says, straightening up in her chair as she drops her hands to her lap. I can tell she's running her palms over her thighs as she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Harry, I-I didn't-"

"You didn't know?"

Carter shakes her head again, and I can see with the way her chest is moving that she's trying to take deep breaths.

"Hey," I whisper, leaning forward to take one of her hands in mine from underneath the table - thankful that this table wasn't too big so I was able to reach across to her easily. "It's okay. It actually doesn't surprise me that you wouldn't know."

I run my thumb along her knuckles, and I can tell it's starting to soothe her as she finally looks up from the table to make eye contact with me.

"My dad had said that Gwen moved away, but I figured that meant you did too. That's why I was a bit shocked to see you here," she says, and I can tell she's trying to put it all together. "I don't think he even knows you guys have separated. My mom had only told him about the move."

I can't help but roll my eyes at that. Another thing that didn't shock me. Their mother didn't want their father, or Carter, to know about the divorce. She didn't want Gwen to look like she failed at something.

"She did move," I give Carter's hand one more squeeze before sitting back in my chair - our touch separating. "About five months ago. We've been separated for almost a year and a half. She left a few months after the divorce was completely finalized."

Carter's face shows that she's completely dumbfounded by this information, but she's trying to keep it together. "That's...that's why I moved back, you know? Because I thought you both were gone."

Her words sting, but I can't hold them against her. We wronged her, Gwen and I both, and I don't ever expect her to forgive me for the way that I treated her while I was with Gwen. I know that if anyone had treated me the way I did her, I'd never speak to them again.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by asking you to sit with me. I didn't know you thought I was gone too," I tell her, and now I'm the one gripping my thighs. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I more than understand if I'm the last person you ever wish to talk to."

Looking down at my lap, I pick at my cuticles as I wait to hear her chair slide across the floor. But I don't.

I look up to see Carter still looking at me, and she shakes her head. "I chose to sit here, Harry. I'm okay, I promise."

I give her a small nod, but I immediately look back down at my lap.

A few seconds pass before I hear her clear her throat. "I like your hair. I never thought I'd see you with it so short."

I can't help but smile at her words, and I look at her once more. "Yeah? It's not weird without the curls?"

"I mean...it's a little weird," Carter smirks, and I know she's trying to help our playful banter come out again. "But they look like they're on the verge of growing back. I'm enjoying this little faux hawk thing you have going on though."

She lifts her drink to her lips and takes a sip - not flinching away from the liquid this time, so I know it's cooled down properly for her.

"It feels nice," I shrug. "Healthy and all. I buzzed it completely when the divorce was finalized. It was therapeutic, honestly."

"Oh? I wish I could've seen it buzzed," she giggles, pursing her lips to the side before speaking again. "I get the whole changing your hair thing though. I went brunette a few months after I left."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah, let me see. I'm sure I still have some pictures on my phone," she says before digging into her bag.

She swipes on her screen for a while before turning her phone to face me. "See?"

Even though I know it's Carter in this picture, it's not my Carter. She's smiling for the camera, but there's a dimness behind her eyes that I've never seen from her. She was unhappy - that much was clear.

"Oh, wow," I say, giving her a half grin so as to not disappoint her. "It definitely suited you, but I have to be biased when it comes to the red. It's just you."

"Yeah, I like the red too - I like being natural and all that."

She drops her phone back into her purse before I go to speak again.

"So, did you move back by yourself or..."

"Yeah, just me, and my little black cat, Ichabod," I can see her face light up as she mentions her cat, and it causes a warmth in my chest. "I had been seeing this guy for a little over a year, and I broke up with him about...half a year ago now? It just wasn't working out."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I tell her genuinely. "He wasn't bad to you, was he?"

"Oh, no," Carter shakes her head adamantly. "Not at all. He was actually very sweet, but I realized that even though I loved him, I wasn't in love with him anymore. So, I broke it off almost immediately after realizing that. I didn't want to string him along when I wasn't going to be one hundred percent in the relationship."

"And why do you think you weren't?" I ask, and I watch as Carter starts to play with the cardboard sleeve around her cup. "Why do you think you weren't one hundred percent in the relationship?"

Her eyes peer up at me underneath her lashes, but her face is still tilted slightly towards the table. "I think you and I both know why, Harry."

My stomach flutters when I realize what she's alluding to, but I don't want to press that conversation any further. Not here, and not after just seeing her again for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

"Well, I'm sorry it didn't end up working out. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

"What makes you think that just because that ended that I'm unhappy? I'm actually the happiest I've been in a while since moving back," she tells me, but there's no aggression to her tone as she continues her explanation. "I've just been letting life take me where it wants for the most part, and yeah I get lonely sometimes, but it's okay. The quiet doesn't bother me anymore like it used to."

The confidence that I can see in her now is admirable. She's so sure of herself, and I can tell she means what she says.

Carter is happy.

"Can I ask what it was that you handed the barista earlier?" I have a feeling that whatever that was plays into this newfound self that I can see she has.

"Oh, those are just little postcards I make for fun. I do them in series, I guess? Like right now they're all different flowers, and the quotes on the back have to do with either growth, or rebirth," she explains, leaning forward onto the table a bit. "I keep them in my bag, and I hand them out to people who I feel need them, or someone who's shown me kindness that day. It's nice to see their reactions."

Carter has always had a big heart, and it makes me ecstatic to see that hasn't changed despite what those closest to her have put her through.

As happy as it makes me to see her own growth, there's also a part of me that's sad that I missed it. But the guilt is what chews at me the most. The guilt of just letting her slip through my fingers like I did.

"Oh, shit, what's the time?" I hear Carter ask before she pulls out her phone again. "I need to be at the shop in ten minutes. I'm sorry, I've gotta go."

"That's okay, I was just finishing up too. Let me walk you out?" I ask, and she looks over to me after stopping her slightly frantic movements.

"Sure, yeah."

She puts the lid on her drink as I stand and put the strap of my tote over my shoulder, and soon we're both heading towards the entrance of the cafe. I hold the door open for her as we step outside, and we move over onto the sidewalk so that we're not blocking the door as we stop.

"It was really good seeing you, Carter," I tell her honestly. "And I know it might be too much of me to ask, and you can absolutely say no, but do you think we could meet up again sometime?"

Carter chews on her bottom lip as she contemplates my request before she nods. "Yeah, I think that would be okay. I think I'd like that."

I can tell I have the stupidest smile on my face when I hear her agree. "Okay, yeah, uhm, let me just get my phone out for you to put your new-"

"I have the same number," she interrupts me, and I could tell she was a bit hesitant to say that considering she never once responded to me when I tried to reach out. "And I still have your number too."

I don't say anything in response to that because I understand why she did what she did. I give her a nod, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

"Okay, well, I'll text you so we can plan something, alright?"

"That sounds good."

We stand there for a moment, and I can tell neither of us really know how to end the conversation.

"Did you ever get your heart tattoo?" Carter blurts out, and I can see it was something she had been itching to ask me this whole time.

I laugh softly. "You remember that?"

She nods while giving me a small shrug. "It just stuck with me."

"I haven't, no," I say. "I actually haven't gotten anything since before...everything."

"You mean like before the wedding?"

"Yeah," I sigh, running the tip of my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. "Didn't really have the motivation or inspiration to get anything new."

Carter stares at me for a moment before speaking again. "Well, if you want to still get it done, I'd be more than happy to do it for you. Just text me when you're free, and I'll see if it lines up with what I have booked right now."

"Wait, are you serious?" I ask. I'm taken completely by surprise that she would offer to do this so quickly after just seeing each other again.

"Well, you told me you wanted me to be the one to do it, right?" She asks playfully as she bumps her shoulder against mine. "I'm not letting anyone else tattoo that on you."

"I guess when you put it that way," I say as if she's twisting my arm, which causes her to let out a noise of disappointment - having her now shove my arm. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I wouldn't want anyone else doing it for me either."

Carter looks up at me with a beaming smile, and for a moment I'm transported right back - as if things never changed. "Then it's settled. Just text me."

"I will."

She begins to walk away from me before she stops. "Oh, here!"

Walking back over, she digs in her bag and flips through something for a moment before she's extending one of her postcards out to me. "I think this one belongs to you."

I look down at it for a moment, and by the time I look back up, I can already see her back towards me in the distance. Shaking my head at her with a smile of my own, I look back down at the postcard to really study it.

On the front was just a plain line work illustration of a daffodil. I flip it over on the back, and I see this one in particular has two quotes. I read each of them over once, but then I find myself reading them again, and again once I process what they really mean.

"The people who are meant to be will always gravitate back towards you, no matter how far they wander." - UNKNOWN

•

"Souls tend to go back to who feels like home." - N.R. HART

⋆★★⋆

It's been a couple of weeks since I saw Carter at the coffee shop, but we had been texting almost every day. I didn't seem too eager, so I didn't text her about booking the tattoo until later that evening, and he she was able to fit me in today. Neither of us made any moves to ask about hanging out outside of my tattoo appointment, but I wanted to so badly.

When I got back to my place after running into her that afternoon, I immediately got on my computer and searched what a daffodil symbolizes. I was met with the answer that it meant 'rebirth and new beginnings' among a few other things, but those stuck out to me the most. She was sending me a signal that maybe we could build this again.

I knew that things were going to be different, it was almost impossible for things to go back to the way they were back then, but I desperately craved to be in Carter's presence again.

Her quote that she handed to me was right. She felt like home.

That was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a while - not even when I spent my first Christmas back in Holmes Chapel this past December. It felt weird going back there by myself, but I did find comfort in being back with my mother, especially since the divorce was still pretty fresh. I ended up staying with my parents for a little over a month. I had never been more thankful for my job allowing me to work from home more than during that time.

I didn't realize just how much time I needed away from everything until then. It gave me a chance to help clear my head, and I still met with my therapist over Zoom so that I kept up with my sessions. It wasn't until I got back that I made her aware that I thought I was doing okay on my own, and that I wanted to see her on a per needed basis going forward. She agreed that she thought that was appropriate, and I've only had to see her once since then.

The need to see her came after Gwen was back in town visiting her mother. She told me that after she moved she realized she had taken some stuff of mine, and she wanted to give it back. I had tried to convince her just to leave it on her mother's porch whenever she left, and that I'd come by and grab it once I knew she was gone, but she refused. I was tempted to tell her just to forget it, that I didn't want any of it back, and that was the truth until she rattled off what the box included. It wasn't until she said there was a spiral bound notebook with a tattered red cover that I knew I needed to get that box back.

That notebook was one that Carter and I used to write notes back and forth to each other in during the class where we first met.

It was obvious that Gwen hadn't gone through it. If she had, there was no way she would've wanted to give me something so sentimental back - especially since it included a piece of Carter. When I went over there to get the box from her, she was immediately in my ear the whole time. She was asking if I thought I had made the right decision divorcing her, and if I was happy with myself. She asked if I had found someone new - asked if they felt as good as she did it.

But it wasn't until she brought up Carter that I snapped.

"I swear to god, if you're with my 'pick me' of a little sister, then you're just pathetic," she had said, and that caused me to stop right where I was. I had been trying to get back to my car so I could pack the box up and leave.

"I think you're a bit mistaken, Gwen," I told her as I looked over my shoulder to see her standing there with her hands on her hips. "You've always been the 'pick me' out of the two of you. I thought by now you maybe would've looked in a mirror and seen that you're the problem - not just with me, but with everyone. All I can say is that I'm lucky I can see it now, and I'm glad I got out of our marriage when I did."

That left her completely dumbfounded, and she didn't utter another word as I got into my car and left. I'm hoping that's the last time I'll ever have to see Gwen.

Regardless of how I defended myself and Carter against her, I was still shaken up by the encounter. My therapist was thankfully able to work me in that same day for a visit. She didn't respond much to me - it was more so of a vent session for me anyway. At the end of that session, she told me that I should be proud of finding it within myself to not only see Gwen, but to also stand up to her. That was something I hadn't been able to do at all in my last year with Gwen.

The first six months of marriage was wonderful, but the remaining year was horrific. I had dealt with Gwen coming home and screaming at me almost every day due to stress from her work. It wasn't until things got physical that I knew I had to leave.

At first it was a slap, and she apologized profusely for it - telling me she would never mean to hurt me, and she couldn't explain why she did it. I let it slide because I knew how much pressure she was under. The next time she hit me it was her closed fist connecting harshly with my chest. The final time, she had attempted to throw a vase at my head. She was lucky I was able to move out of the way quickly, and I avoided it.

I left that night, packing up what I absolutely needed, and I told her that I would be back to get the rest of my things. It took me about a week to get everything out, except for that one box of stuff apparently, and I made sure that I checked our Ring camera for movement before going over so I could see if she was at work. I didn't want to see her anymore at all. The thought of being in her presence made my skin crawl.

The whole thing made me wonder if the physical part of her anger was only just towards me, or if she had ever gotten physical like that with Carter. It broke me to think that Carter could've been on the receiving end of her wrath in that way, and I prayed that I was wrong in thinking that it maybe had happened in the past.

I let Gwen keep the house because I didn't want it. I didn't want the awful memories those walls held, and I knew that with the divorce I'd end up getting some money back for it considering we bought it together. Once I got the money from everything, I ended up getting a house of my own. Thankfully Gwen told the courts the divorce was amicable even though she really didn't want it, and the only reason why she agreed to that was because I agreed to not bring up her abuse if she did so.

I just wanted it all to be over. I wanted to start fresh, and I needed to be rid of her.

I'm drawn out of my thoughts when I realize I'm close to the tattoo shop, and I do my best to force the negativity out of my mind. Today was going to be a positive experience. I also think that today is going to set the tone of where things go from here with Carter. I'm hoping the outcome is us trying to rebuild our friendship, but I would be more than understanding if Carter didn't wish to get close with me again in that capacity. She had every right to deny me.

I parallel park on the street right out front of the shop, just across the street, and hop out. Once I'm inside, I'm immediately drawn to her red hair as she stands at her station. I can see that she's applying some second skin to the forearm of the girl sitting on her table.

"Harry, right?" I hear my name being called, and I look over to see Duncan.

"Yeah, that's right," I give him a small nod while sending him a smile. "It's been a while, Duncan. How are you?"

"I've been good, man, really good," Duncan says as he leans against the check-out counter, arms crossed over his chest. "Business has been great, and I just moved into a new house with my wife and little girl. No complaints. How about you? Carter mentioned that you would be coming in."

I can't help but laugh a bit when I try to think of how to answer Duncan's question. I've never been one to dump my feelings on people when they casually ask how you're doing. "I'm getting better," I tell him honestly. "Had some things happen over the past couple of years, but I'm definitely finding myself again."

Duncan doesn't get a chance to respond as Carter starts walking her client up to the counter. "Hi, Harry," she says, her smile growing the closer she gets to me. "I'll be just another minute or so."

"Take your time," I tell her, shoving my hands into my front pockets.

"You can go ahead and wait by my station if you'd like. I'll just need to get everything sanitized once I'm back over there, then we can start," she tells me, and I give her a nod before following her instructions.

I sit down on one of the stools she had over there as I wait for Carter, but I find it hard to keep my eyes off of her from across the shop. It's clear to see that she's definitely gotten more sure of herself over these past few years. She holds a smile the whole time she checks the client out, and I can see this newfound charisma that I caught at the cafe the other day just seeping out of her.

Once she finishes up, she heads back over to me, and I witness a softness pooling in her eyes as she stands next to me. "How are you?"

I stand up from the stool, and out of habit I go to wrap my arms around her. Carter's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't stop me, if anything, she's quick to reciprocate. Her cheek rests against my chest, and I feel her let out a large exhale as her fingers curl into the loose jumper I was wearing.

"I'm good," I speak, finally replying to her question - moving around so my own cheek is now lying on the top of her head. "How about you?"

I feel Carter nod against me for a moment before we separate. "I'm good as well."

She moves away from me to slip on a pair of gloves, and she begins to wipe her table down completely. Once done, she motions for me to sit there, and she starts to get her station ready.

"Are you nervous?" She peeks at me over her shoulder with a smirk before looking back to her task at hand.

"A little bit, actually," I chuckle, running my hands over the tops of my thighs. "It's been a while, and I think I remember how it feels, but I'm questioning if I really do or not."

"Oh god," Carter gasps as she turns around completely, tugging on my jumper to signal it's time to take it off. "You're not going to pass out on me, are you?"

I can tell she's still being playful with me, and I shake my head. "I think we're good unless I somehow randomly see someone getting their tongue pierced."

Carter tilts her head back with a large laugh, clapping her hands together as I pull my jumper over my head. I'm wearing a black tank top underneath to make it easier for her to access the inside of my bicep. "I'll make sure to have Duncan tell me if someone comes in for one of those so we can make sure you don't get up to go to the bathroom and pass the piercing room at that time."

I roll my eyes at her while she pulls her hair into a bun on the top of her head as I hang my jumper on the small coat rack she has in the corner.

As I walk back over, I see that Carter is slipping the drawing she's made of the heart I wanted out of the front of her binder. The front of her binder is usually reserved for fun little sketches of hers, much like the ones I first noticed when we were in college. I look at the side of her face as I watch her, knowing she usually keeps her stencils in one of the clear sleeves she had inside.

"Did you just finish that up last night? Is that why it's in the front?" I ask, gesturing to the drawing as I sit down on the side of the table.

Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye as she shakes her head. "Uh no...I've had this done for a while," she says, and she quickly clears her throat. "I just need to get it all prepared, I'll be right back."

My eyes watch her as she goes, but she returns quickly with another fresh pair of gloves on, and the stencil of the heart in her hand. "You said you wanted this on the inside of your bicep, right?"

I nod as I lay back on the table, and I extend my arm out for her. Carter sits down on her stool, rolling over to me before holding the edges of the stencil between the pads of her thumb and index finger on each of her hands. Tilting her head to the side, she tries different positions before it, and I see her eyes light up when she gets it right. She lays the stencil down - smoothing it over to make sure it all gets on my skin.

"Have a look," she says as she pulls it off, and I stand from the table one more to take a look at it in the full length mirror.

I move my arm in all different directions to make sure none of them make it look funny before I nod. "That's perfect, Carter. It looks great."

Once I lay back down on the table, she grabs her gun and scoots as close as possible to me. "You ready?

"Yep," I sigh, looking at the ceiling as I hear the buzzing start.

It's only a few seconds later that I feel that familiar scratch across my skin, and I grimace slightly from how long it's been since I've felt it. I take in a deep breath as I can tell she's trying to warm me up a little bit before she really gets started.

"Doing okay?" Carter checks in on me, giving my upper bicep a reassuring squeeze as she dips back into the ink for a moment.

"Yeah, feels like I remember," I say, earning a small giggle from her.

"Well, that's good then, yeah?"

I nod as she starts up again, and it's silent between the two of us for a while before Carter speaks.

"I've had the heart finished since before...everything," she whispers, and I move my head to the side so I can look at her properly. Her eyes stay focused on her work, but she flicks them up to meet mine for just a moment. "I was going to show you the drawing that night, sort of as a surprise present, I guess."

It's as if I almost feel my heart actually crack in my chest at her confession. I couldn't believe that she had finished it up back then, but I also couldn't believe that she had held onto it for this long. Part of that gives me hope that she was just waiting for the opportunity for us to reconnect at some point, like we have now.

I had thought about her so much since the last time I saw her, but she had grown even heavier on my mind since I started therapy. My therapist really helped me work through my feelings, and the more I worked through them, the more I realized just how much I had fucked up with Carter. I've beaten myself up time, and time again while looking back on how I treated her, and how I allowed her to be treated.

The image of her standing in that groom's suite, begging me to reconsider my marriage is forever engraved in my mind. Her body trembling with her arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cowered away from me. I thought that night I found her outside at the formal was going to be the worst I'd ever seen her, and the fact that I was the cause of an even worse reaction than that...I'll never be able to forgive myself. My therapist has told me time and time again that I needed to find it within me to do so, but I don't see how it's possible.

"And I'd really like to talk everything over at some point," Carter speaks up again, but now she keeps her sight down, and off my face. "But for now, I think it would be nice to just get to know each other again, if that's something you're okay with. Once we feel like we're in a comfortable place, then I'd like for us to be able to put it all out on the table. I have a lot I feel like I need to say, and a lot I need to ask."

"I think I'd really like that too, Carter," I agree, reaching my hand out when she stops tattooing me for a moment. I wrap my palm around her forearm, rubbing my thumb against her smooth skin. "You don't know how nervous I've been these past couple of weeks. I was just holding onto hope that you would give me another chance."

"I still have a lot of hurt feelings," she explains as I drop my hand to allow her to start up her work again. "But I also didn't handle things in the right way. I was hoping that seeing each other would open up that opportunity for us to reconnect."

Looking up at me again for just a second, we give each other soft smiles.

It's a couple hours later that Carter finishes up my tattoo completely. My bicep now felt like a bunch of pins and needles, but I didn't want to have to come back for another session. I've always been one to complete my tattoos in one session, if possible. Carter had already let me look at the tattoo, and put the second skin on it before I walked over to the coat rack to grab my jumper.

"Here, let me help you," I hear her say after she disposes of her gloves. "Go ahead and put your arms in, and I'll help pull it down."

I do as she asks, keeping my arms above her head, and only starting to lower them down as I feel her pulling the hem of my jumper down as well. Once it was on properly, she gave me a nod. "I'm going to just clean up really quick since you were my last one of the day, and then I'll meet you at the counter, okay?"

I head over to the lobby section of the shop and sit down on one of the couches, beginning to scroll through my phone as I wait for her. I can hear her holding conversations with a couple of people around the shop over the next few minutes, and finally I hear her calling my name.

Walking over to the counter, she tells me my total, and my eyebrows narrow. "Carter, you know that's not right," I tell her with a small laugh.

"Friends and family discount," she shrugs, giving me a smug smile.

I roll my eyes, but I allow her to charge me what she wants - handing my card over. Once everything was settled, we head out of the shop, and I point to my car that's parked across the street. "That's me."

"That's me," she mimics, pointing to her car that was just a little ways down on the same side of the street.

"I'll walk you."

Carter nods, and I rest my hand against the small of her back to keep her on the inner part of the sidewalk as we make our way towards her car. Once there, she turns to face me, a tender look on her face.

"It was nice getting to tattoo you again," her voice is warm as she speaks, and I feel my stomach fluttering with how sincere she sounds. "I haven't tattooed a friend since Kieran, and that was a couple of years ago, so this was wonderful."

"Well, I'm glad it was you that could give me another tattoo after so long," I tell her, reaching out to rub my hand up and down her arm for a moment before dropping it.

"I'll text you, and maybe we can plan on meeting up to do something sometime next week? The weather is getting warmer, so I was hoping to spend some more time outside."

"Yeah, that sounds great. We can definitely figure something out," I respond, biting down on my bottom lip.

"Before I go, I wanted to give you this," Carter says before digging into her bag, much like she did before she walked away from me at the cafe. "Wait to read it until you're in your car but...I think this explains what I felt all those years ago a little better than I did back then, and how I've felt going forward."

Looking down at the postcard, I see that there's now a line illustration of a nightingale instead of a daffodil. "This drawing is beautiful, Carter."

"Thank you," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before clearing her throat. "I'm sorry to dart off so quickly, but I promised my dad I'd come over and make us some dinner tonight."

"Don't apologize, we practically spent the afternoon together."

We step forward to wrap ourselves in another embrace - all while being mindful of my fresh tattoo.

"You smell the same," I hear Carter whisper after a moment, and I look down to see her snuggling her nose into my chest. "I've missed it."

Swallowing harshly, I force away the tears that want to spring in my eyes. "You smell the same too. I've missed it...missed you so, so much."

I take a chance, and I press my lips against the crown of her head. I feel Carter's cheeks round out against my torso before she's looking up at me with a wide smile. "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

We separate, and I stand on the sidewalk to make sure she takes off safely. She waves at me through her window as she drives off, and I make my way over to my car. I'm immediately pulling up google on my phone to look up the symbolism of a nightingale, and the tears I had just wished away come crawling back.

"Found in Persian culture, through poetry and music, the nightingale has been celebrated as a symbol of unrequited love."

I press my tongue against the inside of my cheek as I look out my window, feeling moisture beginning to wet my face. My hand shakes as I continue to hold the postcard, but I can't look back down at it. I'm scared of what the other side, the quote, will bring.

I give myself a moment or two, sniffling softly before I look down - flipping the card over.

"No matter how much you wish you could, you cannot control how another person feels and loves.

Just because someone fails to see your worth, it doesn't make them a bad person, and it doesn't mean you are unlovable. It simply means that they aren't meant for you.

You should never have to spend your days and nights wondering if you are good enough for somebody. You are enough. You are more than enough for the right person.

Always remember that your happiness comes first. Focus on loving yourself, really loving yourself and you will see your value and find the strength to walk away from unrequited love.

Weeks, months, years will pass and you'll look back and wonder why on earth it took you so long to see that all along you deserved everything you always wished you had.

- CHARLOTTE FREEMAN"

⋆★★⋆

It's a Saturday night, and I've been sitting outside of Carter's house for the past fifteen minutes - just staring down at the bundle of daffodils in my hand. My mind is going a mile a minute, and I know I have to calm myself down before I go up and knock on her door. I got here early for this specific reason. I knew that I would probably work myself up, and sure enough, I have.

This was the first time either of us had agreed to meet at one of our houses. Over the past three and a half months, we've been seeing each other only in public spaces.

I was more than okay with us only meeting out in public. We both made the decision to take things slow as we rebuild our relationship with each other, and we both know that this relationship will more than likely be similar to our previous one, but there's no way it could ever be the same.

I think the scariest thing for me was that I found myself falling back in love with Carter easily.

Through therapy I realized that I never really stopped loving her in that way, I had just suppressed my feelings because I thought she didn't feel the same.

Going to therapy made me remember a lot of things I had pushed to the back of my mind when it came to the transition of my feelings for Carter into my feelings for Gwen. I had forgotten about how anytime Carter was out of the house, Gwen was telling me that she was out with a boy. I thought that Carter was hiding a relationship from me, and subconsciously, that's why I hid my relationship with Gwen. It wasn't until years later that I found out that Gwen had been feeding me lies.

Bottom line - Gwen manipulated me our entire relationship.

I know I'm not completely innocent, and that her manipulation isn't a complete excuse for the way that I acted, but it made me realize just how much she lied to me. She did anything she could to keep her hooks in me until she knew she had me fully secured, and then it was already too late with Carter. I had already separated myself from her to keep myself from getting hurt even further, and I had already started to fall in love with Gwen.

I know that I loved Gwen at one point. I know that I was still in love with her even when she hit me, but I know I fell right out of love with her the night she could've caused me irreparable damage.

Fuck, I didn't need to be thinking about all of this right now.

Tucking my chin to my chest, I suck in a deep breath as I lift my hand to pinch at the bridge of my nose. Reminiscing on the past in this very moment wasn't helping me calm down.

Instead I try to focus on the positive. Carter somehow found it in her heart to give me a second chance, and our reconnecting felt different to than I had anticipated. I could tell by the way she looked at me that she felt the same way too. We exchange small intimate touches every now and then, but that's as far as it's gone. I've also noticed that we're a lot more flirty with each other than we used to be. It's almost as if we were a couple that had separated, and now we're trying to figure out if time apart could make it work again. It didn't feel like we were necessarily rebuilding just a friendship.

It wasn't until this past Tuesday when we were sitting on a bench in the park that I asked her to dinner.

Carter had been talking about getting a corn-dog from this street cart for a few days, and I finally suggested to her that we just go and get them together. She was more than ecstatic when I told her that I wanted to go too. She got a regular corn-dog, and I got one with a plant-based hotdog inside. While we sat on the bench, her legs were draped over my lap as she leaned against the arm rest, ankles crossed one over the other.

Her heart shaped sunglasses were perched on her nose as I traced my fingertips up down one of her legs as we ate.

"I'm so happy right now," she said, using her hand to cover her mouth full of food as she spoke - as if she couldn't wait to tell me. "Thank you for coming with me, Harry. We picked such a good day too. It's beautiful out."

I swallowed the bite I was chewing before responding to her. "Of course I was going to come with you. I had to see the look on your face once you finally got your corndog."

The giggle that left her warmed my heart as her nose scrunched up, and I gave her thigh a squeeze. Humming, she let her free hand travel down to wrap around my fingers, and we remained like that for the rest of the time that we ate.

We stayed at the park for about an hour total, and it wasn't until we were about to get up and leave that I finally grew the balls to ask her what I had been wanting to ask her for a few weeks at that point.

That's when I asked her about grabbing dinner together, something we hadn't done yet.

"Yeah, of course we can grab dinner sometime. That would be fun!"

I remember my palms immediately going clammy, and Carter could instantly tell that something was wrong.

"Hey, are you okay?" Her palm found my back, and she began to move in circles.

"Well...I just-" I stumbled over my words like an idiot, finally clearing my throat when I felt like I had myself somewhat together. "How would you feel about considering it a date?"

Even though Carter had her sunglasses on, the lenses were pretty transparent, and I watched as her eyes went wide - her pink lips parting in surprise. I immediately had to look away from her, and I looked down at my hands as I nervously rubbed them together.

"Sorry...I'm sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes tight as if that was going to just make what I had asked disappear. "Forget it. We don't have to. I just ruined this whole fucking thing."

It was a few seconds later that I felt Carter's hand leave my back, and soon her palm was cradling one of my cheeks. She turned my face so I was looking at her - causing me to reluctantly open my eyes.

"It can be a date, Harry," she told me, and I instantly felt a knot form in my stomach. It wasn't out of anxiousness though, it was out of excitement. "I'm a little nervous given the past, but I'd like for it to be a date too."

When we separated that day, she let me give her a kiss on the cheek, and it made me tingle all over when I saw her face flush.

We haven't really spoken about our feelings at all, and we haven't discussed any expectations of each other either. I have a feeling that both of those things are bound to come up tonight. That's probably another reason why I'm so incredibly nervous.

My eyes glance over at the clock, and I see that it's now the time that I told her I would pick her up.

I suck in a deep breath as I get out of the car, my hands shaking as I keep a grip on the daffodils, and I head up to her door. Lifting my finger, I ring her doorbell before taking a small step back so that I'm not crowding her immediately.

The door opens after a moment, and once Carter's eyes connect with mine, a large smile takes over her features. "Hi, H," she says. She looks me over for a moment before looking back at my face. "You look so handsome."

It's as if my breath was sucked from my lungs when she opened that door. The dress she has on fits her perfectly, and she has her hair slightly curled so that it bounces a bit as she moves. I couldn't help but internally laugh out in adoration when I saw she had all black Vans old skools platforms on her feet.

Some things never change.

"Wow, Carter," I breathe, shaking my head. "You look gorgeous."

Carter's face flushes just like it did the other day. "I'm in protest against heels at the moment, so I hope Vans are okay," she says before her eyes drop to the flowers in my hand.

"Oh!" I exclaim with a chuckle, extending them out to her. "These are for you. I was trying to figure out what flowers to get, but these seemed rather fitting."

"Hmm," she hums, giving me a playful grin. "I wonder why."

She peeks over her shoulder for a moment before looking back to me. "I'm just going to put these in some water and then we can go. I'd invite you in, but I know Ichabod's hair is going to cling to you if you come inside and he rubs on you."

"That's alright, take your time," I tell her with a nod.

She shuts the door, and it's only a minute or so later that she's stepping back out. A thin black cardigan is now on her arms, and she has a purse draped over her shoulder. She locks up her door before facing me. "Ready?"

"Ready," I say, placing my hand on her lower back as we make our way to my car.

I open the passenger door for her, which she thanks me for, and I make sure she's in securely before I shut her in. My hands continue to shake as I head over to the driver's side, and I get in before starting the car up.

I can see Carter looking over at me out of the corner of my eye, and she almost instantly reaches out to take one of my hands off the wheel.

"Why are you shaking so bad?" She holds my one hand in both of hers - lazily intertwining one set of her fingers with mine while the fingertips on the other trace over the back of my hand. "We don't have to go anymore if it's going to make you so nervous, Harry. I don't want you to be-"

"No," I shake my head quickly, squeezing my fingers around hers. "I mean, yes, I'm nervous, but I don't want to not do this because of that. I've just...I'm really bad about getting in my head these days, and I just overthink things. I've been overthinking all day."

Carter frowns, and she brings my hand up - pressing her lips against my knuckles. "If it helps at all, I'm really glad that we're doing this. I've been looking forward to it since you asked on Tuesday."

"Yeah?" I ask, feeling her confession ease my nerves some.

"Yeah," she nods, biting down on her bottom lip.

"I can never thank you enough for agreeing."

Carter's eyes wander over my face for a moment before settling back on my own. "I told you...I've missed you. It's been long enough that I'm okay to let myself be open with you again, and I'm sure we'll touch on that more later, but I just know I'm ready for this. Whatever this ends up being after we talk everything out. Okay?"

"Okay," I bring her hand up to my mouth just like she did to me earlier - mimicking her same actions.

I let my lips rest against her skin a little longer than she did mine before I lower our hands back down. I go to pull my hand away so that I can place both hands on the wheel, but Carter tightens her grip. "Can I keep holding it?"

My heart palpitates in the best way at her question, and I feel warmth in my face. "Yeah, of course."

"Okay, good," she giggles before dropping my hand into her lap.

I bite back a larger smile as I put my car in drive, and I start heading towards the restaurant where I had made us reservations for tonight.

Music plays quietly in the car as we make our way down the road, and Carter and I keep stealing glances at each other as we do so. Eventually she moves her other hand down to completely encompass the one she had already been holding once again, alternating between smoothing her fingertips over my knuckles, and then the back of my hand.

I haven't had contact like this from someone in so long, and it feels nice. The tenderness of her touches makes me feel wanted and comforted all at the same time - two feelings that Carter used to bring me previously before everything went to shit.

Our conversation on the way there was light, just asking how our work week went, and she was telling me about a large back piece she had just finished up on a client.

Once we arrive at the restaurant, I open the passenger side of the car for Carter. Instead of letting me just place my hand on her back, she takes my hand in hers - lacing our fingers together. I stroke my thumb along the back of her hand as we head inside, and I can see that Carter is a bit shocked at the place I've picked out.

"Harry," she says, looking up at me with worry. "This place is so nice, and I'm wearing Vans. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you wanted to wear Vans," I respond, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Besides, they look cute on you, and if they want to say something about them, then I don't want to give them my business anyway."

Carter shakes her head briskly at me as we approach the host stand. "Two for Styles."

The host nods and grabs a couple of menus before we're guided to our table. I smile when I see they've remembered to set it up the way I wanted, with two candles lit in the middle, and two glasses of red wine already poured.

I can hear Carter gasp behind me, but she doesn't say anything yet as I pull her chair out for her to sit.

The host places the menus down as I sit as well, and I thank them before they walk away. I keep my eyes down on the menu that was placed in front of me, but I can feel Carter's on me.

"Harry," she speaks up after a moment, sweetness laced throughout her tone. "Did you have them do this for us?"

I nibble on my bottom lip before nodding. "Yeah, I did. I just wanted tonight to be special. For you...for us."

Carter reaches out across the table, curling her hand around mine. "Thank you so much. This was a nice surprise, and this restaurant is beautiful."

She gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away, and we begin to properly look over our menus.

"What are you thinking?" Carter asks, and I tilt my head to the side.

"I'm eying the pasta pescatore, how about you?"

"I think I'll do the lobster and mushroom risotto," I look up as she twirls a curl around her finger - lips pursed to the side.

I'm completely captivated by the way the candlelight hits her face, capturing her beauty in a way that has my stomach swirling.

After a moment, a waiter comes over with a couple of waters to accompany our wine, and he asks if we're ready to order.

"You first," I say, gesturing my hand towards, and Carter smiles.

We each order our food, and the waiter heads off as we grab our glasses of wine. I clear my throat, my other hand gripping to my knee as Carter's round eyes stare at me.

"This might seem silly, but I just wanted to say a couple of things," I chuckle nervously.

Carter gives me a reassuring nod before sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

"First off, I want to thank you again for saying 'yes' to dinner, and especially having it be a date. I'm really trying to be more straightforward with my feelings in general, but especially when it comes to you now that we've reconnected," I start off, my fingers curling tighter to my glass as I feel I could drop it at any moment. "I also wanted you to know that these past few weeks of getting to see you again have been the best weeks I've had in the past two years or so.

"Like you said before, I know there's still a lot that's left unsaid on both of our parts, but I really don't know what I would do if I lost you again, Carter. Losing you the first time completely changed me as a person, even though I didn't see it at the time. But with that being said, if you realize that this isn't going to work out, and this isn't what you want, then you walk away whenever you want. Put yourself first - always."

Carter blinks at me, and I can tell that I've caught her off guard with my words, but telling her that the ball was in her court when it came to us was something I needed her to know. I didn't want her to let the guilt of knowing I'd be upset to lose her again be the cause of her putting herself into something she didn't want.

"Wow, Harry," she opens and closes her mouth a couple times - clearly trying to figure out how to respond. "These few weeks have been really great for me too, and like I told you, I've missed you. I allowed for this to be a date just as much as you did, so I hope you don't feel like you forced me to label it as that.

As of right now, I'm more than happy with how things are going, but I can't lie to you and say that may change after we really talk things out. I don't think it will, but I just want you to know that's a possibility, okay?"

I move my head in agreement with her words. "Of course, Carter - of course."

I watch her shoulders deflate, as if she's let out a sigh of relief before we're both extending our glasses forward - clinking them together.

"To us," she speaks up first, a large smile back on her face.

"To us."

We each sip our wine, and she hums out in appreciation. "Oh my god, Harry," she licks over her bottom lip. "This wine is delicious."

"Yeah? I went over their selection online, and I tried to pick out what I remembered you liking."

"It's perfect. Thank you."

I watch as she looks around the restaurant a bit before looking back over to me. "Well, I guess now is as good of a time as any to start, huh?"

"If you're ready, then absolutely," I reassure her.

"I should probably start with me figuring things out about my mom and Gwen since that all ties in to how everything happened, especially with us," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before continuing. "One of the first things my therapist had me focus on was my emotions towards them, but most importantly their emotions towards me.

"She had me write down times throughout my life where my mom yelled at me, which wasn't often, but I came to the conclusion that she only ever did when it involved something with Gwen. Whether it be me trying to play with one of her toys, or if Gwen and I were fighting about her borrowing something of mine when Gwen knew that I would be needing it, my mother always took Gwen's side - even when she was clearly wrong."

Reaching forward, she takes a large sip of wine before she continues. "I also realized that my mom and Gwen have extremely jealous tendencies. So, when the wedding came around, it was such a big thing for Gwen, and the way they treated me just magnified. They wanted it to go perfectly for her, and they didn't want me to ruin it. That's when I became their pin cushion."

I grimace at her use of words, but I know she's not wrong.

"Also, I don't know if Gwen ever told you, but she caught me leaving the groom's suite that day," she places her hands on the table, and I can see they're slightly trembling. "She told me she knew of my feelings for you, that she always did, and she couldn't believe I told you on your wedding day of all days. That's when she said she never wanted to see me again, and for me to stay away from you both. I listened to her because I knew you loved her, and I knew she made you happy, and I didn't want to take that away from you."

My heart aches at her words. Gwen never told me she had seen her after her confession to me. I didn't know that she ever knew that Carter had feelings for me.

"She didn't tell me," I whispered, shaking my head.

"I also need to apologize to you, Harry. I need to tell you sorry for never telling you my feelings sooner, and I also need to tell you I'm sorry for when I chose to tell you about them," I can see tears are now gathering in Carter's eyes, and she takes a minute to collect herself before she's blinking them away.

"I never wanted to tell you about my feelings because I didn't want to ruin what we had, but it seems that's exactly what I did because I waited so long. Maybe if I had just kept my mouth shut, none of this would've ever happened, and I-"

"Carter, I'm going to stop you right there," I butt in, not being able to listen to her blaming herself in this way. "Do not apologize to me for that. I won't let you blame yourself for what happened. There's only one person to blame for our friendship falling apart, and that's me."

Carter keeps quiet as I continue. "I should've never let Gwen keep me from you like she did, and I should've never let her treat you the way she did. Things would've been different if I had put my foot down. If I had refused to let her wedge her way between us, but I didn't do that.

"She fed me lies our entire relationship when it came to you. She knew I liked you, she revealed that to me during our divorce process. Whenever you were out of the house hanging out with Kieran, she told me you were seeing different guys, and I don't know why I believed her. Then she started dropping hints that she liked me. One thing led to another, and it just happened. The last thing she really lied to me about was her trying to contact you after the wedding. She led me to believe that she was trying just as hard as I was to reach you, and in our last big fight, I found out that wasn't the case."

Now I'm the one reaching for my glass of wine, taking two large sips. "I realized in therapy that I never truly lost my feelings for you, Carter. I just shoved them down, and I suppressed them once I started having feelings for Gwen. I convinced myself that they were gone because how could I love two people at once? But, my love for you was never like my love for Gwen. The love I had for you..."

I swallow harshly before I look down at my lap, shaking my head. It's only a second later that I feel the tips of Carter's fingers brushing over my knuckles.

"Tell me, please."

Looking back up, I meet her eyes, and I can tell she's pleading with me to be honest. It was hard to act like I was talking about the past. My love for has only grown more since being around her again.

"It was everything. Even if I didn't think it was reciprocated, and even though I didn't even tell you about it."

Carter opens her mouth to speak, but we're interrupted by the waiter setting out dishes down in front of us. We each thank him, placing our napkins into our laps as we grab our silverware.

"Let's just enjoy our meals for now," I reach out to grab her hand, and I kiss the back of it quickly. "And if we want to talk more later, we can."

"Okay," Carter breathes, and we both begin to dig into our food.

The rest of our time at the restaurant consists of us talking about much lighter topics while stealing bites of each other's food.

Now we're sitting outside of her house in my car, my hand placed on the inside of Carter's knee as she twists my rings around my fingers.

"Is there anything else you wanted to talk about before I head in?" Carter rests her head back against the headrest, looking over at me.

I know that what I'm about to bring up is serious, but it's something that's eaten away at me for too long.

"I didn't want to ask in the restaurant, and you can decline to answer if it's too personal, but it's something that's been weighing on me. Did...did Gwen ever get physical with you when you guys would argue?"

I'm hesitant to look at her, but I'm met with narrowed brows on her face. "I mean, we used to wrestle as little kids, but when we got older, no," she shakes her head. "Why? Did she get physical with you?"

I stay silent as I look down to stare at my steering wheel, and I can hear Carter inhale sharply when I don't answer after a moment.

It's not even a second later that I feel her arms around me, and she's pulling my face into her neck. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I feel tears welling in my eyes as I lift a hand to wrap around her wrist. I feel her nails scraping against my scalp to comfort me as her other hand caresses my back.

"You didn't deserve that. You'll never deserve that."

We stay in the same position for a while as she continues to comfort me silently before she speaks again. "You know that right? That you didn't deserve that?"

I nod, sniffling as I lift my hand up - pushing the tears off my cheeks with the heel of my palm as I sit back. "I know. I know I didn't deserve it."

"Good," Carter says softly, and I can see the worry behind her eyes as she stares at me.

Biting down on her bottom lip, she grabs her purse that was on the floorboard, and she shuffles through it. She looks back over to me, and that's when I see she has another postcard in her hand. "I had two of these in my bag tonight. I figured this whole thing could've gone one way or the other. "

She extends the card out to me, and I take it from her. I look down to see a line illustration of a butterfly on the front. I know that she did this on purpose because we each have butterfly tattoos, and it has me feeling hopeful.

"Will this quote tell me which way it went?" I ask her with a soft chuckle, and it causes her to giggle as well while she shrugs.

"Flip it over and find out."

Taking in a deep breath, I flip the postcard over, and I read over the quote a few times to really take it in.

"Rewinding time is not possible, but "do-over's" are. Sometimes we get another chance to do something right the second time that we got wrong the first time." - UNKNOWN

I look back over to her after a moment, and her expression is one filled with such kindness that I feel like I could cry again. "In case that wasn't enough to tell you...would you like to come in?"

My eyebrows raise, as I'm a bit shocked that she was asking me to do so, but I didn't give her any time to think that I was hesitating. "Yeah, yes, please," I laugh nervously, and she tilts her head.

"Come on then."

We both get out of the car, and we head up to the door which she unlocks. As we walk inside, she flips on some lights, and I instantly hear small thumps coming from her hallway while we take off our shoes.

"Hello, Mr. Crane," Carter coos as she lowers herself down to pet the petite black cat that's come to greet her. "This is Ichabod."

The image in front of me has my heart completely bursting from how sweet it is, and I follow Carter's actions - bending down to be closer to them both. "Hello Ichabod, I'm Harry."

I hold my hand out, and Ichabod sniffs it for a bit before rubbing back across the front of Carter's legs for a while, but he keeps his eyes on me.

"He's really nice, I promise," Carter says as she continues to rub over his back, and eventually Ichabod makes his way over to me.

I begin to scratch underneath his chin, and behind his ears as Carter stands.

"Do you want some more wine?"

Glancing over, I watch as she walks into her kitchen - loose red curls bouncing as she goes.

"Yeah, I'll have another glass," I tell her, giving Ichabod a few more pets before standing up myself. "Just one is probably good though considering I have to drive."

"What do you think I'm trying to do? Get you drunk so you have to stay over?" Carter looks at me over her shoulder with a shiteating smirk, and I shake my head at her. Knowing that the atmosphere around us has turned playful, I decide to feed into it as well.

"I don't know," I shrug before crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against one of her counters. "Are you?"

Carter hums as she turns back around to grab a bottle of wine out of her wine fridge, and then she walks over to the cabinet housing her wine glasses. "I mean, would you staying be the absolute worst thing in the world?"

My adrenaline perks up slightly at her words, and I quickly clear my throat. "No, I-I don't think that, I just didn't know-"

"Harry," Carter walks over to the counter next to the one I was leaning against - setting the glasses down. "I was just kidding. You didn't think I was that easy, did you?"

Groaning, I look up to the ceiling as I smile.

She's really busting my balls here.

"I'm not used to being one step ahead of you when it comes to picking on each other," she bumps her hip against mine to have me looking down at her again. "I guess I'm making up for all those years you had me blushing like an idiot."

"Yeah, now that's me," I laugh, leaning down to pinch at her waist - causing her to yelp.

Carter eventually uncorks the bottle, and she pours us each a glass of wine as we move over to sit on the couch. Ichabod makes his way over to the cat tree in the corner of the living room, and he makes his way to the top tier - quickly curling into himself and falling asleep.

"He's so cute," I compliment her. "How old is he?"

"Just a little over a year old," she says, looking over to the cat tree for a moment before looking over to me. "I actually found him outside of the shop I was working at while I was gone."

"You're kidding."

Carter shakes her head, swallowing down her sip of wine before continuing. "It was early spring, and it was raining so bad outside. It was chilly, and windy on top of that. I was closing up the shop, and I went around back to throw the trash into the dumpster before getting in my car, and I could hear him crying underneath it after I threw the bag inside.

"I pulled my phone out so I could use my flashlight, and I looked under, and there he was. He was by himself, and shaking, and I knew I couldn't leave him. To be honest, I didn't think I'd have the time to take on a kitten, so I had every intention of keeping him for a few days to get him better before taking him to the shelter. As you can see, I got way too attached and that didn't happen. It worked out for the both of us though. I don't know what I would do without him. He's my little buddy."

"You know it's funny, I had been contemplating getting a cat myself before I ran into you," I tell her. "Now you've kind of convinced me that I need one. The house is so quiet by myself."

"I definitely get what you mean. I've lived alone since I first moved away, and now I couldn't imagine not hearing his little paws on the floors, or hearing him eating his food in the kitchen while I'm sketching at my dining table. You should get one, H," she says, tapping her foot against my thigh. "They're a lot of fun."

"Yeah, I think I might," I say, dropping my hand to wrap it around her foot, running the pad of my thumb over the arch of it. "Would you come to the shelter with me?"

"Of course! I'd love to. Plus, I think I should have a say considering they're going to be around Mr. Crane. I need to make sure they're a suitable candidate for his friendship," she smirks, taking another sip of wine.

"That's fair enough."

It's quiet for a moment before she makes a small noise as she swallows her sip - as if she's remembered something. "Hold on, I'll be right back."

Carter sets her wine glass down on the table, and she slips down the hallway for a moment. I can't help but smile to myself as she's gone - not believing that I'm in her home with her right now, us sharing wine together and talking as if nothing has changed.

This is all I've wanted for so long.

I hear her coming back after a minute or so, and she sits down while passing me a piece of paper. As I study the piece of paper, I see she picks her wine glass back up, and she moves to drape her legs over my lap like she did in the park the other day.

"I drew that while I was in therapy," she said, tapping her fingertips against her glass. "She told me to draw something that provided me comfort in the past, and I came up with this. While I was drawing it, I was thinking of how you used to always hold my hand when we were out with friends if you could tell I wasn't having a good time, or if something was making me anxious. I've been meaning to bring it to show you when we've been hanging out, I just kept forgetting."

My eyes study the drawing, and I wait to ask what immediately comes to mind. "Do you think you could tattoo this on me?"

Carter's eyes look like they're about to bulge out of her head once I look back to her. "What?"

"I really like it, and you drew it perfectly. It reminds me of us too," I nod. "I'd really like for you to tattoo it on me, if you're comfortable with that."

"Harry, you know I'm always more than happy to ink you up. I'm just a little shocked - that's all. I'm more than comfortable with you getting it."

"Maybe in a couple months? I'm thinking on the back of my arm," I tilt my head to the side as I continue to stare at the drawing of two hands holding.

"I think that will look really good, H."

I only intended on staying at Carter's for maybe an hour at the most, but as she indulged in another glass of wine, I decided to stay so she could tell me all about the city she had been living in before moving back home. It was interesting to hear about the life she had without me in it, and I was actually able to listen to her talk about it without feeling a sadness in my chest.

I have her back now, and that's what matters.

Looking over to the clock, I can see it's nearing midnight, and I know it's time to go home.

"Well, I should probably get going," I sigh as I finish up my glass of wine. Only having the one glass at dinner, and then the two glasses here, I was more than fine to drive - especially with pasta sitting in my stomach.

"Oh, only if you're sure," Carter says, setting her almost finished wine down on the coffee table as I stand up. "You're not keeping me up or anything."

"I know, but I don't want to overstay my welcome," I chuckle, walking to set my empty wine glass in the sink in her kitchen.

When I walk back over Ichabod hops off his cat tree and follows me towards the door, circling my feet as he looks up at me.

"I think somebody doesn't want you to leave," Carter giggles as she walks closer to me, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.

"I'm sure I'll see you again soon, bud," I kneel down to give Ichabod a few head scratches before I stand up and look over at Carter. "Do you think that we could do this again?"

"Harry," Carter closes all space between us as she drops her hands to the side. "Have I not made it obvious enough that I more than enjoyed myself tonight? I would absolutely love to do this again."

I let out a small laugh of relief, scratching the back of my neck for a moment while looking down at my feet. Pursing my lips to the side, I look back up at Carter. "Can I kiss you?"

I can tell my request takes Carter by surprise, and I immediately feel like an idiot. "Shit, I'm sorry," I apologize. "I didn't mean to be so forward. You just look so beautiful, and I had such a good time that I thought maybe-"

I'm cut off when I feel Carter's hands cupping my cheeks as she pushes herself on her tiptoes, her taking the complete initiative to have her lips meet mine.

After a moment, I hum in satisfaction, and I drop my arms to wrap them around her. One of them wraps around her waist, while the other curls to the middle of her torso - my hand pressing against her shoulder blades to keep her flush against me. Carter is much shorter than me, and I can tell she's struggling to stay on her toes, so I gently lift her off the floor just a bit using the strength in my arm around her waist - causing her to squeal against my lips.

"Stay," Carter whispers, as she pulls away, her eyes dancing over my face. "Please stay."

My mouth runs dry when I realize exactly what she's saying, and I don't hesitate to give her a nod. "Okay, I'll stay."

Carter smiles, and I reach down to have both arms around her waist before I'm pulling her up higher. She wraps her arms around my neck, and her legs around my hips, as she leans down to reconnect our lips. "Bedroom is at the end of the hall," she mumbles against them.

I follow her orders, carrying her with ease down the hallway until we're in her room. After a few more moments of letting our lips mold against one another, I lower her down so that she's standing in front of me again.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"I'm sure," Carter says as she takes a step back, peeling her cardigan off her shoulders. "Take your clothes off."

My cock twitches in my pants at her words, and it takes a minute for my body to catch up with my mind. I pull my vest off and toss it to the side before I start to undo the buttons of my dress shirt. I watch as she reaches up to undo the ribbon tied at the top of her dress, pulling it so that it loosens, and she's able to slip her arms out of the material. She pauses for a minute with her hand pressed against her chest to still keep her dress up, watching me with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

I shrug my shirt off before I reach down to my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them - leaving me in just my briefs.

Carter drops her dress, and my breath catches in the back of my throat when I see that her top is completely bare - only a black lace long left on her body. "This...this isn't weird for you, is it?"

I shake my head as I walk forward, my eyes shamelessly roaming over her. I'm taking her all in, as if she could disappear, or like I could wake at any moment - like this was all a dream.

"It's not weird at all," I tell her honestly, and Carter reaches out to wrap her hands around my wrists.

Her head tilts to the side as she moves me around until my hands are on her full breasts, and I sigh as I run the pads of my thumbs over her pebbled nipples. She gasps while throwing her head back - her eyes slipping shut.

Hearing that sound leave her, and seeing that just the smallest touch was bringing her such pleasure, it's like something in me snaps. I walk forward to where she's back against her dresser, and her eyes shoot open.

Carter watches me as I begin to lower myself down her body, pressing kisses to her neck and over her sternum. Once I reach her breasts, I rest the undersides of them in my palms before closing my lips around one of her nipples. She lets out a breathy moan, but we don't sever eye contact. Her hands wrap around the edge of her dresser, her elbows slightly pointed up to her ceiling as I pay the same amount of attention to her other nipple.

"Harry," my name leaving her mouth has me humming against her skin, and she rolls her head on her shoulders for just a moment before her eyes are right back on mine.

Abandoning her chest, I slip all the way down so I'm kneeling in front of her as I kiss over her stomach - hooking my fingers into the sides of her thong. I still hold her eyes, silently asking for permission, and she gives me a nod. I continue to sponge kisses down her body, all while pulling her underwear down at the same time. She's squirming underneath me, and I can tell she's aching for more now.

Once her underwear hit the floor, Carter lifts one leg to step out, but when she lifts the other, I quickly wrap my hand around her ankle - throwing her leg over my shoulder as I toss her underwear to the side.

"Can I taste you, Carter?" I ask, my eyes slipping shut for the first time since I've had my hands on her - the smell of her arousal filling my nose while I latch my lips to the inside of her thigh.

"Please," she whines, and my mouth finds its way between her legs before I can even process. “Oh, god."

One of Carter's hands leaves the dresser to make its home on the back of my head as she arches into me. My tongue is immediately met with her wetness, and I groan at just how much had accrued in such a short amount of time. I lick my way back up until I'm sucking her clit between my lips, and I open my eyes to look up at her.

Her head is back as she pants into the air, her face displaying absolute pleasure as I lift my hand to massage her thigh that's resting beside my head. My touch alerts her, and she looks down at me with pink cheeks.

"Good. 'S so good," she moans deliriously before she tilts her head to the side to rest her cheek on her shoulder - eyes slipping shut again.

I move back down to lap at her dripping entrance before I plunge my tongue inside - teeth scraping over her swollen clit. A strangled, but loud "uh" leaves her as she now curls forward, and the hand on the back of my head is pushing me even further into her core while her other hand drops to grip at my shoulder not cradling her thigh.

Everything about this is causing me to leak profusely into my briefs, and I know that I'm the hardest I've been in a long time. I creep my hand up from her thigh to grip one of the rounds of her ass - feeling her skin pushing through the gaps between my fingers.

"Wait, w-wait," I hear Carter gasp, and I pull away immediately. She sees the look of worry on my face, causing her to laugh breathlessly. "You didn't do anything wrong, don't worry. I just want to make you come twice."

I close my eyes and drop a hand to my briefs to apply pressure to my throbbing bulge at her words - willing away the urge to come right then. After a moment, I feel her slip her leg off my shoulder, pulling my cheek to rest against her stomach as she runs her fingers through the top of my hair.

"Can I do that for you, Harry? Can I have you come in my mouth, and then while you recuperate, you can make me come?" She slides one hand down my back - nails grazing against my skin. "And then when I come, I'll need you inside me, and I hope you'll be hard again. I want you so bad."

I turn my face to kiss along her stomach much like I did before. I'm riddled speechless by her want for me. It had been so long since anyone had talked about me in such a way, and it was causing me to feel so many different emotions.

"Please, baby," Carter whispers, and I slowly feel her lowering her body. I blink my eyes open to see her kneeling in front of me - moving her hands to cradle my face. "Let me make you feel good."

The pet name she uses ignites a fire in me, and I wrap my arms around her to pull her forward - having her thighs straddle one of my own as I press my lips against hers. Her thumbs swipe over my cheek as we kiss, and I tangle one of my hands into the back of her hair. Our lips part to have our tongues rolling against one another which causes goosebumps to coat my skin. We make our way off the ground, but we don't let our lips disconnect as she lays me down on the bed.

My hands wander all over her body as our tongues ebb and flow, and I give her plush hips a squeeze before she's pulling away from me. She runs her lips down my body, and just like I did earlier to her, she starts pulling on the waistband of my briefs.

"Lift your hips," she tells me, and I blindly obey.

Once my briefs are down to the tops of my thighs, my prick springs out and slaps against my stomach - smearing precome onto my skin.

"Shit," Carter's mouth gapes as she stares at me, and I feel myself twitch under her gaze.

She makes quick work of getting my briefs the rest of the way down before pushing herself between my legs. She's knelt down, back arched to have her plump ass in the air - right in my line of vision.

"Fuck, Carter," I whisper, feeling myself leaking even more at the sight. "You're so sexy. I don't think I've ever been this hard."

Carter licks over her bottom lip as she wraps her hand around my dripping cock, her other hand snaking up my chest to rest over one of my pecs - her palm grazing over my taut nipple. She works the hand on my prick up to gather my precome onto her hand before she slicks it down my length. Beginning to pump me, she nuzzles her nose into the trimmed hairs framing my base.

"I can't tell you how long I've wanted this," she tells me, planting kisses all around me.

I try to keep my eyes on her for as long as possible, but the pleasure is overwhelming. If she didn't get her mouth on me in the next few seconds, I was going to end up coming all over my stomach and her hand.

"I can't believe you're even more toned than before," she plants a kiss against my balls, causing my stomach to clench. "So pretty. Everything about you is pretty. You have a pretty face, a pretty body, and a pretty cock."

Her words have me moaning as my toes curl into the fabric of her comforter. I never once would've guessed that Carter was so vocal in the bedroom, and it's causing my head to spin. She was a true vision, and I found myself so lucky to be underneath her at this very moment.

I can't help but slip my eyes shut once her mouth is on my tip, and she lowers herself halfway down my shaft before pulling back up. I find myself biting down on the insides of my cheeks as she kitten licks at my slit - resulting in more precome pouring out of me.

"Carter," I gasp, one hand gripping to the pillow case my head was resting on while the other reached out to wrap her hair around my palm. "I'm not going to last very long right now."

She kisses my tip before I feel her nudge the side of her nose against it. "That's okay. This is about you right now. If you come in five seconds, I don't care."

Carter's mouth closes against me once again, and this time she lowers herself almost all the way down. I feel the tip of her nose against my happy trail as she zig zags her tongue along the underside of my shaft, and I can feel the ball of her tongue piercing pressing against every vein in her wake.

She bobs her head up and down before she presses all the way down, and I feel her swallow around me.

"Fuck," I choke on a moan, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I try to make this last as long as possible. "You're so fucking good at this."

Carter hums in response, causing a vibration up my shaft which has my abs jumping. I now feel my orgasm truly building in my lower abdomen. She pulls up to where just my tip is in her mouth, and I flutter my eyes open to see her looking at me - wiggling her ass in the air. She keeps me stable with one hand, and she parts her lips to show me that my tip is just resting against her tongue.

She shakes her head from side to side for a moment before she focuses on rolling the ball of her piercing over the prominent vein right underneath my tip again and again.

"I'm gonna come," I strangle out, my hand tightening in her hair. "I can't hold it."

Carter holds my eyes as she closes her mouth around me again, and she uses the hand that was holding me in place to start pumping me once more. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I feel myself releasing onto her tongue, groaning out as I buck my hips up subconsciously. It causes a small squeal to leave her, and if I was in the right stand of mind I'd immediately be apologizing, but my brain has gone completely fuzzy. She guides me through my orgasm fully, and I wince in sensitivity as I feel how tight she has her lips against me to make sure none spills out.

My eyes blink open just in time to see her popping off me entirely, and I watch as she swallows - the smallest bit of my come seeping from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darts out to collect it while she begins to rub her hands up and down the tops of my thighs.

"You okay?" She asks, moving her way up my body so that she's hovering over me.

"I'm more than okay," I laugh, causing one to leave Carter as well. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck. "Come here."

I pull her down to meet my mouth again, and I hum as I taste myself on her tongue. As we kiss, I turn us over to where she's now underneath me. She hikes one of her knees up against my hip while resting her hands on the sides of my neck. Using one hand to hold up the crease of her leg, I dance my other one down between her legs.

I cup her cunt in my hand and give it a squeeze, causing her to gasp against my mouth. Smirking softly, I curl my middle and ring fingers to slip the tips of them through her drenched slit, and I'm almost certain I could already get hard again when she immediately coats my fingers in her arousal.

"You got so wet, Carter," I lick at her top lip before bumping the tip of my nose against hers. "Did getting me off turn you on that much?"

She nods, her hands beginning to roam all over my torso. "Sexiest thing I've ever seen was your face when you came just now."

"You're giving me an ego," I tell her, nipping my teeth against her jawline.

"You deserve to have one," she breathes as I feel her nails digging into my skin.

Swirling my fingertips around her entrance, I let her get accustomed to the feeling before I'm easily gliding them inside of her due to how open she already is for me. She mewls while automatically lifting her hips to meet my fingers, and I help satisfy her even more by tapping against her spongy spot.

"Yes," she whines, her chest now flush against mine - hard nipples grazing my skin. "Please, Harry, don't stop."

"I'm not going to, baby," I assure her, sucking on the junction where her neck and shoulder meet. "Not stopping until your come is covering my fingers, understood?"

"Mhmm," she lets out a high pitched hum as I begin to thrust my fingers in and out of her, making sure to continue curling them every now and again. "I understand."

Carter's heavy breathing fills the room once more as writhes underneath me. I can feel her clenching around me in what seems like intervals, and I know she's probably just as close as I was once she got her mouth on me.

"God, I can't believe I get to have you like this right now," I tell her, testing the waters to see if talking turns her on like it does for me. "Never thought this would be a reality for me. I thought I fucked up so bad that you'd never speak to me again, and now I've got you naked and open for me. I'm the luckiest man in the whole world to be here with you."

She cries out as I drop my hand from her leg to slip between our chests so I can roll one of her nipples between my index finger and my thumb. I can see a sheen of sweat forming on her hairline, and I slip a third finger into her to try to get her to her climax faster - not wanting her to feel like I was teasing too much.

"Harry," she whimpers, opening her eyes to look up at me.

"You're right there, hm?" I ask, tilting my head to the side, and I watch as he nods in response to me. "Come on, flower. Let go for me."

The old nickname I used to call her seems to be what sends her over the edge.

Carter's head tilts slightly back, and I watch as her lips part. A lewd moan starts to escape her as I feel her completely clamp down on my fingers, but I don't take my eyes off her face. She keeps her eyes on me as she comes, her orgasm coating me just like I asked as I continue to ride her through it. She wiggles her hips, as if she's trying to move away from, and that's when I remove my fingers - knowing that she's coming back down.

Her eyes watch my every move as I bring my fingers up to my mouth, sealing my lips around them as I suck them clean. I close my eyes once I have her taste on my tongue again, swallowing down a moan so I don't look absolutely pathetic.

I open my eyes to look down at Carter, and I see her smiling up at me. "Thank you," her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath. "That felt so good."

Looking down at the same time, we both see that my cock is about half hard, but I know it won't take much longer for me to get fully there when I know where this is going next. I lower myself down to kiss her body like I had before, and I take the time to really examine her skin.

"You got a lot of new tattoos," I say, giving one of her breasts a small squeeze.

"Mhmm," she hums, wrapping one hand around my forearm that was connected to the hand on her chest - rubbing her palm up and down my skin. "A pretty good amount, I'd say."

Lowering myself down onto her, I begin to press my lips over the ones that I know I haven't seen, whispering 'new' as I do so. It causes Carter to giggle as I locate each one, and she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches me closely, but her smile still shines through.

"I have another," she tells me, tapping me to lift up a bit before she flips over onto her stomach.

I look down and see ink right under the crease between one of her ass cheeks and her thigh. "Also new."

Smirking, I lean down to press my lips against that one as well as she looks at me over her shoulder. I trail my lips up just slightly, biting down playfully on her ass cheek - causing a laughter filled squeal to leave her, and I feel her lightly kicking her feet.

I lift up onto my knees, grasping her hips to flip her over once more, and I feel that I've grown fully hard again.

"You're really sure, Carter?" I ask her, and she nods.

"I've never been so sure about something before. I want you, Harry. Fuck, I need you. I think I'll cry if you're not in me in the next few minutes."

That causes me to chuckle softly. "I'm going to put on some music, is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

I stand up from the bed and grab my phone that's in my pants pocket. Flipping through my apps, I locate Spotify and quickly search the song I had in mind. Once I find it, I place my phone on her nightstand before crawling back over her. The intro starts, and my eyes wander over Carter's face before the vocals kick in.

"I get so lost, sometimes. Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart. When I want to run away I drive off in my car, but whichever way I go I come back to the place you are."

"Harry," she whispers as she trails her fingertips down my biceps, and I see tears filling her eyes.

"Don't cry, please," I lean down to press a kiss against each of her cheeks. "It's how I've pictured this moment for so long."

"You mean to this song?"

"To this song," I nod, reaching down to massage her hips in each of my hands. "This is how I felt about you then, and I haven't been completely honest with you because...this is also how I feel about you now too. I meant what I said earlier. You mean everything to me, Carter Adams."

"How are you going to tell me not to cry, and then say something like that?" Carter laughs, but I can hear the tears filling it.

"Sorry, I just needed to let you know," I lean down to press my lips gently against hers before pulling back just slightly. "Do you have a condom?"

"I do, but...are you okay if we don't use one? I have an IUD, and I'm clean. I got checked after my break up, and I haven't been with anyone since," she cradles my jaw in her palms, the pad of her thumb brushing over my lips. "I just really want to feel you."

"I'm clean as well," I nod, running my hands down from her hips to the outside of her thighs to pull her knees up against me once more. "I'd really like to feel you completely too, Carter."

Reaching out, I grab a pillow from the other side of the bed that she wasn't lying on, and I slip it underneath her hips to have her angled up slightly. "Good?"

"Good," she responds, and I can tell that we're both a bit nervous now that we know this is actually going to happen.

With one hand cupping her waist, I wrap my other hand around my length to guide myself to her. I allow my tip to run through her folds to collect her arousal for a moment before I'm pushing inside. My jaw goes slack, and I choke on a groan when I feel just how tight she is around me with me barely being inside.

"Oh," she moans, grasping to the creases of my arms.

I look up from where we're connected to check on Carter, and she gives me a nod - telling me silently to keep going. I'm slow as I continue to push forward, and once I'm completely inside, I hear a flooded whine leave her.

"H-Harry," she says, and she's immediately demanding my attention when I hear how much emotion is behind my name. "I love you."

Those three words that I never thought I'd hear her say to me again, at least not in context, have me crumbling.

My bottom lip trembles as I cup her cheek in my hand. "I love you too, Carter. I love you so much."

Leaning down, I connect our lips in a passionate kiss, neither of us caring as we feel our tears smearing over each other's cheeks. We stay still for a while, hands caressing each other's bodies while our tongues melt together. It was incredible how perfectly we fit together, and my heart was pounding against my chest due to the intimacy that was surrounding us in every way imaginable.

Our mouths separate with a large 'smack' bouncing off the walls, and smiles are immediately pulling at the corners of our lips.

"I'm gonna start moving, okay?"

"Okay," Carter gives my arms a squeeze, and I draw my hips back halfway before allowing myself to fill her to the brim again.

She sighs out, leaning her head to the side to press her lips against my heart tattoo. My eyes catch hers, and she sends me another soft smile. "New," she mumbles against my skin.

That small gesture has a knot forming in my throat again, but I power through. The only thing I want right now is to give her even more pleasure than I did before. I want to show her how much I love her now, and how much I loved her even before.

After a few more moments of letting her adjust, I begin to fall into a rhythm of plunging my slick cock in and out of her weeping cunt. Carter's walls flutter around me every time I'm fully sheathed back inside, and I look down to see her clit all puffy and inviting. I push one of her legs down onto the bed, and then drape the knee of her other leg over the crease of my arm. Moving onto my knees just a bit more, I begin to thrust at a new angle, and her muscles clamp down the hardest they have.

"That it, baby?" I ask, dropping my free hand to rub the pad of my thumb against her clit. I can feel it pulsing, and I know that she's close to another orgasm already.

"Jesus Christ, Harry," she groans, nails digging into my skin as I keep up my pace. "Splitting me open."

Her words have my prick twitching inside of her, and I know that I'm not going to be able to hold out as long as I want to.

I'll just have to make a promise to make it up to her in the morning.

"Yeah? Got you feeling full?"

"So full," Carter shakes her head from side to side, and her eyes are droopy. I can tell she's trying her hardest to keep them open, and on me.

"You feel so good around me, flower," I compliment, licking over my bottom lip. "Prettiest, and sweetest little pussy squeezing me. Can't get enough can you, hm?"

I watch as her body trembles underneath me, and she opens her mouth to say something, but I feel her walls tightening. Looking down, I can see her second orgasm coating my length, and that causes me to start slipping in and out of her even easier than before.

"That's a good girl," I lean down to press my lips to the corner of hers. "You're 's good for me, Carter."

Carter clutches to me, and I allow her to lift her knees to my hips again so that I can be closer to her. I pant against the side of her neck as my feel my own orgasm festering at the bottom of my spine.

"Where do you want me to come?" I ask, and she's quick to press her heels against the small of my back - forcing me to barely move in and out of her now.

"Inside, please," she begs me, and that's all it takes for me to find my second release.

I can't help but bite down on her shoulder as I pump everything I have inside of her sensitive cunt, and I hear her letting out small mewls and whimpers each time I thrust back in. Once I know she's taken everything from me, I collapse on top of her, but I'm mindful not to bare all my weight.

We cling to each other, sharing small kisses and caresses as we come down from our highs. When I finally find the strength, I push myself up onto one of my palms, my other hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Carter's ear.

"I love you," I tell her, and she smiles up at me - corners of her eyes squinting.

"I love you too."

As I hover over the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, I wonder how I could have ever been so stupid to let her slip away the first time, but I have to remind myself that's in the past. Tonight truly marks the new beginning of this relationship, and I know that it'll bring us both nothing but happiness.

I look at her, and I see not only my future, but also my soulmate. Regardless of what happened before, I know one thing is absolutely true - Carter Adams has always been the love of my life.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles ff #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles short story #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #Spotify

[strawberrynull]

──౨ৎ ˙💌 ̟ hallway crush (Ep.1)

엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki

──Pairing: idol!niki x afab!idol!reader

──Genre: fluff, angst

──Synopsis: Hybe is home to many idol groups including Enhypen and Jung Y/n's group, Star Stride. Most of the idols are friends from being a part of the same company. Suddenly, Nishimura Riki is enamored by the beauty of a girl who has never even thought about him.

──Warnings: cursing

──A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I know this was meant to be a oneshot but I had too many ideas and now it's being turned into a series. Whoops... FOLLOW FOR CHAPTER 2 !!!

masterlist

Nishimura Riki strode through the halls of the Hybe building. The sounds of footsteps and typing coming from the big open staff room. An exhausted sigh fell from his lips. He had just gotten finished with his private dance lessons and was on his way back to his dorm. The other Enhypen members had been waiting to serve dinner. It was already 8:46pm. Before Riki had started taking extra dance lessons, the members would eat together at 8. Despite telling them to just eat without him, they decided against it and stated that they would all wait for him to get home every weekday. Now Riki was rushing down the hallway to get home so him and everyone else could eat.

The boy quickened his steps. He didn't want the other members to wait for him for too long. Looking down at his phone, he almost didn't notice the girl he was about to run straight into. As soon as he lifted his head, he was face to face with the girl, only a few inches away from colliding. Riki quickly weaved to get out of her way. The gaze of her big pretty eyes flickered to him only for a split second as they both stepped to the side to avoid running into each other. In the passing moment he had seen her, he got a glimpse of just how gorgeous she was. She bowed quickly before running off. Her hair bounced slightly with each lively step she took. She was absolutely breathtaking.

Then it hit him that he had never even seen that girl before. His mind began racing with the endless possibilities. Could she be a staff member? She was way too pretty and fashionable to be a staff member. So then was she an idol? If so, he had never even noticed her up until now. He was so sure that he knew all the other Hybe idols. After a lot of thought, he decided to safely assume that she was from the new group that had debuted a few months ago.

In a hurry, he made his way back to the dorm where the other members had been waiting. Though he was no longer concerned with how long he had made them wait. All he wanted to do was figure out who that girl was. As soon as the door slammed open, Riki was already yelling to his band mates from the doorway.

"What's that new girl group that debuted this year?" He asked, throwing off his shoes.

"Star Stride. We literally have a show with them in two weeks." Jake yelled back, telling him to pay better attention. The others laughed at his ignorance.

"Star Stride... great. Thanks." He said quickly.

"Dinner is on the counter. I just took it back out of the oven because it-" Without another word, Riki made his way to his dorm room. He cut Heeseung off, shutting the door behind him. "...got cold. God damn it Riki." The rest of the members gave acrimonious groans, and sighs as he left them there to eat alone after they had waited for him for an hour.

In his room, Riki plopped down onto his bed, already searching for Star Stride on his phone. He opened Spotify and pressed play on their most recent album. While the music played, he began looking up the members, hoping to find the girl from the hallway. Of course he had to find out who you were. Star Stride had 5 members since a star has 5 points. Finally, after looking up 4 other members, he had looked up Star Strides main rapper. The girl was identical to the girl he had seen in the hallway. Riki quickly sat up in his bed, eyes wide as he scrolled through pictures of her.

"Jung Y/n. She's even the main rapper?" he muttered to himself, cupping a hand to his face to hide the smile creeping onto his lips. He was already flustered by the similarities the two of them shared. With his heart racing in his chest, he couldn't help but stare at the beautiful pictures of her from Star Strides most recent album. He was so focused on her that nobody could get him to leave his dorm room for the rest of the night. Not even to eat the dinner that they had all waited to eat.

For the next few days, Riki would roam the hall he had last seen Jung Y/n in. He would patrol that one hallway from 8:30pm until 9 o'clock in hopes to see her again. While pacing the halls, he would plan what he would say to the girl the next time he saw her strolling down the same hallway. The other members were already mad at him for skipping dinner last night. Now they were even more frustrated when he had started coming home even later than he had promised. Riki had better plans than sitting and eating dinner at a reasonable time. His infatuation had become a concern when he had skipped dinner for the third day in a row. He just had to see Y/n again. There was no way he could calmly eat without seeing her again.

It had been around a week since he had seen y/n for the first time. He hadn't seen her again yet but Riki wasn't giving up hope. In the past week, he had come up with a whole script for what he would say to her. He had even planned out how to look cool so maybe she would think he was handsome. What a sly boy.

Then he saw the same beautiful girl round the corner. There she was. Walking in the same direction she had been walking the last time Riki saw her. She was stunning. Her hair was now in a high ponytail that swayed behind her as she strode down the hallway. Her pretty eyes were focused on the stack of papers in her arms. She was quickly getting closer to Riki. This was his chance to talk to her. She was only a mere 10 feet away from him. Then 5. Then 2. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He was completely frozen in place. He could only mutter a small "ah-". Y/n saw Riki and bowed, giving a quick hello before walking off just like the last time.

Fuck

He had screwed up his one chance to talk to her. Riki had waited a whole week for this moment and of course he had to choke up and let the chance slip through his fingers. Giving a heavy sigh, Riki slapped a palm to his forehead. Going after her would be weird and calling out to her would disrupt the staff room. He was at a dead end. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he shoved his hands into his pockets, walking back to the dorms in defeat.

About to round the corner to the staircase, he huffed in frustration before he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a timid Y/n staring up at him through thick dark lashes. His mouth went dry and all the moisture had gone to his palms which were sweating profusely. He gulped almost comically and he worried that she had noticed his nervousness. It was really her, Jung Y/n, and she was right in front of him. She had purposefully stopped him to talk to him! Riki felt like he was dreaming. She cleared her throat before speaking, breaking Riki from his trance.

"Uh.. You're Nishimura Riki from Enhypen, right?" She asked formally. Her voice was small and shy. The complete opposite of what he had expected from the main rapper of Star Stride. She was also insanely cute and petite compared to his height. He expected a rapper to be more mature in looks. But this girl looked sweet and fragile. When he didn't answer, she tilted her head slightly, awaiting a response.

"O-oh yeah. Just call me Riki. You don't have to speak formally." he chuckled nervously, looking anywhere but at the girl in front of him. If he gave in and looked at her, he feared he might get lost staring at her features once again.

"I just wanted to tell you that it's an honor to be on a show with Enhypen next week." She explained, bowing deeply. Rikis eyes widened at how kind and pure-hearted she was. But before he could even respond, Y/n was off in the direction she had been going before.

Suddenly he was overjoyed to have Enhypen featured on a show with Star Stride.

(Riki talks about speaking formally because, even though this is written in english, they are speaking korean. In korea, you are expected to speak formally to everyone unless you are extremely close. Of course Y/n and Riki aren't close so Y/n uses formal speech. Riki tells her to speak casually but until stated otherwise, she will continue to speak formally with honorifics.)

© strawberrynull, 2024. Do not copy my work. Please DM for permission before translating or reuploading. Thank You

#enhypen #enha #kpop #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhypen angst #enha angst #enhypen niki #niki enhypen #niki #niki x reader #niki fluff #niki imagines #niki angst #nishimura riki #riki #enhypen riki #riki x reader #riki imagines #riki fluff #riki angst #enhablr #strawberrynull #sim jaeyun #sim jake #jake sim

[kivino]

OUT OF THE SHADOWS I || SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X SHADOW!GN!READER

Word counter – ~6.9k words

Tags/Warnings – Gn!Reader, Shadow!Reader (it’s not for long lol, don’t get your hopes up), murder of civilians/corpses/blood mentioned, physical fights, reader likes to throw fists, Reader’s callsign is Bug to pay tribute to my original idea.

Summary – After the betrayal of Task Force 141 and the slaughter of civilians in Las Almas you decide to leave Shadow Company on the spot, which works out sideways, leaving you with simmering hate towards the man whom you used to look up to and new interesting figures in your life. 

also available on my ao3!

a/n after the fic because they’re too long. but just know that this is the first chapter of the series, feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part. enjoy!

Everything was calm. The sound of rain covering up the murmur of trucks helped you wind down after the adrenaline rush, and a sense of accomplishment for a job well done swelled in your chest. You already anticipated a long sleep and maybe a night out with your friends when you’re back home from the job. Maybe you’d even get a bonus from Graves and buy something nice for yourself. 

In all honesty, you didn’t even mind being crammed into the backseat along with those 141 guys. Working with them was a pleasure and they seemed like an interesting sort of crowd. Especially that man with the skull mask. Ghost, was it? He certainly attracted your attention the most, with his huge size, booming voice, and undeniable skill in what he did. You were willing to admit that the way he took out the enemies with ease and swiftness was mesmerizing.  And…your train of thought that consisted of pure fascination was interrupted by the abrupt stop of the convoy in front of the base gate. 

Everything was calm until you were surrounded by shouting and then eventual gunshots, along with muffled screams of your brothers in arms. You didn’t understand how it all escalated so fast. One moment you were sure about Shadow Company and Task Force 141 being on the same side, but now you didn’t know what to think of it all. And from Graves' words, it was apparent that Shepherd was behind this too. So naturally you, and many other shadows, the lower ranks, had no fucking clue what all of this was about. One would care to tell a mindless weapon where to shoot, but not why. Blood rushed through your veins and pulsed in your ears, turning the pleasant buzz in your body into strained sharpness. You hurriedly pulled up the rear sight to your eye level. Two bodies dropped to the wet asphalt with soft thuds right in front of you. You felt your heart sink right down to your feet. Instead of firing your shots, you hesitated, backing out to hide behind the bumper of the truck, while hearing agitated, aggressive shouts. You weren’t able to tell who was shouting. So, you leaned out and felt yourself freeze in place. 

And there he is. Ghost, eyes locked right on you. He sure has a…strong presence. And instead of shooting you he just…looks. You don’t like the stupid flowery language, but in this split second, it really feels like he is staring right into your soul. Or like someone is sticking metal rods right through your chest, with how hard breathing becomes in an instant. 

You knew that if you were to shoot him right now, you’d never forgive yourself, all because you were kept in the dark about the whole thing Graves had planned. And you were not willing to get blood on your hands because of some “mistake”. If you pull the trigger, there will be one less person who’s able to make a change. One less person who’ll be willing to get their hands dirty and save people. 

So, you lower the muzzle of your rifle and nod to the side, urging him to start his getaway, before other Shadows and Graves decide to check the perimeter. You see his dark eyes blink, or at least you think you do before he disappears into the darkness. Like he was never there in the first place.

In the end, you didn’t get even a single scratch. Three other Shadows were K.I.A.

Your head buzzed with so many different questions you wanted to ask Graves, and more importantly, the guilt you felt from whatever happened in front of the threshold. You had no idea what happened with that Los Vaquero base or what was up with your CO, while you were escorting him and those 141 guys along with several other Shadows for this mission. Why was he taking it? What was he even thinking? You wanted to pull out your hair and claw out your eyes just thinking about all of it. Which, you weren’t paid to do, but that didn’t mean you weren’t concerned with the moral side of things. Unlike the majority of the Shadows, as you came to find out.

Confusion bubbled up inside of your mind, eyes burned by the white synthetic light of the gate when you looked up at it just to feel something aside from sheer distress and bewilderment. You didn’t want to believe that your Commander was the type of person to sell himself out, and you didn’t expect him to be, from all the time spent working with him. The man was nothing short of likable and friendly, with his beaming smile, confident attitude, and outgoing way of communicating… a natural-born leader, that was the first thing that came to mind when you thought about your boss. And with how Graves treated you and all other Shadows like you were more than just his employees, the realization was even more painful. Of course, you didn’t want to think about how he could so easily turn his back on people who trusted him.

It raised many questions in your mind about the price of his word, as well as made your stomach churn with acidic, flesh-eating poison full of doubt and suspicion. If it was so easy for your CO to cut out the men someone he told you all to think of as your brothers, then how long will it be before he sells you and other shadows out for…whatever was offered to him? 

“Find ‘em!” Graves barks and your chest swells with bitter disappointment. You thought you knew him before (as much as a subordinate can know their superior), but how can you even begin to understand him now?

You hear Shadows mutter a quiet “Yup-yup”, more to themselves than to your CO, and you could almost feel the doubt settle over them in a thick, transparent blanket. From the conversations you can pick up on while Graves is out of earshot, you guess that some of them don’t think betraying the 141 guys and trying to hunt the two of them down is the right thing to do. But it didn’t seem like they were going to do anything about it though. You, however, want to help. You know that it’s not right, so…screw it. You can always find another job, and if it comes down to it, 141 seem like an okay sort of people, the type that would have your back if you had theirs. At least, you have hope for it.

So maybe you could hold out until they come back for Los Vaqueros. And you were certain they’d do that, no way they’d abandon all these men. You haven’t seen how the things were on said base that was taken from them, but you were certain you could do more on the inside than if you were to leave right now. Maybe you could break Colonel out of there, or help the Task Force sneak in, you were sure they could use any help from you. 

That was the plan before you saw what Shadow Company did to Las Almas.

The picture that Shadows were painting with innocent blood on the rainy landscape was horrifying, to say the least. The metallic smell hit your nose the moment you jumped out of the truck right onto the flooded pavement. That was the exact moment when you realized you couldn’t stay with Shadows any longer. You were supposed to help these people. It was your job. Instead, you felt filthier than the dirt on your boots. Traitor. Backstabber. You choked on your breath behind the mask each time you noticed the bodies of the victims in every dark corner of the city, nausea coming up your throat when you could see rivers of crimson streaming down the road and right into the sewers. Your Shadow Company patch felt like the mark of a killer, etched into your skin permanently, instead of just being part of your uniform.

Limp bodies that didn’t even have the time to grow cold yet, scattered around warm homes. Some of the killed were probably already in their beds sleeping, coming back from work, watching TV, or cooking dinner when they got dragged out under the rain and massacred…Everything felt like a blur, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of whys, while you were led further into the town, to continue the revolting, disgusting crimes of your brothers-in-arms. You couldn’t stand to spend another minute in here. You need to get out before you do something you’ll never be able to forgive yourself for. You were many things, but you were not willing to go that far. Not here, not anywhere. 

“Hey. Where’s Graves?” You tap another Shadow, your “close colleague” with a callsign Kruk, on the shoulder. He turns to you, while you see several other soldiers passing by, yellow streetlights barely illuminating their swiftly moving figures. You knew why it was hard for you to even look in their direction. Kruk points towards the building to the left of you two and croaks something about “briefing the rookies”. You nod and thank him, stumbling in the general direction he pointed you to. 

“Commander, with all due respect, I think it’s time for you to discharge me.” You only came to your senses when you stood in front of your CO in the cramped space of someone’s living room. Wallpaper, creamy in color, dulled lights, tons of decorative cushions on the couch… Your voice is quiet, but firm, not leaving any space for compromise when you speak up to the blond man, and your politeness is as fake as this copy of “Guernica” you could see hanging on the wall. Blood pulses in your ears. You want to leave, you want out. Out of here.

“Bug, now’s not the time for jokes, I need you on the field now. We’ve got our orders.” Graves barely raises his eyes from tapping something on the tablet, that usual scowl that you got used to present on his face. His actions are as ugly as he is. Him not taking you seriously sure does a number on your confidence. But that only reassures you in your decision. You need out. 

“Do I look like I’m joking? I’m leaving, because I don’t think what we’re doing is right.” You try to stay calm, you really do. But how can you, when out of something so vile he makes a joke? Makes all these people a sick joke.

A crease lies between your brows, and shadows falling over your eyes make your face look similar to a carved statue. Before talking to Graves, you decided to take off the eyewear that obscures your face and pull down the thin mask, the signatures for Shadows who are lower in the chain of command. You’re the faceless sort, after all.  “And I don’t think you know your place.” You’re instantly taken aback by his sudden outburst, but you don’t let it show. “I point and you shoot. I sign your paychecks, Bug, and you take them.” You feel something inside of you flinch at the way he mutters your callsign. “I’m in charge. You don’t have a say in what we do.” With each statement, his gloved finger points from him to you, making the rage and frustration boil inside of your chest. You trusted Graves and he led all of your colleagues, along with you to dragging out unarmed, innocent people in the dead of night out of their houses on their streets and executing them. Hell of a leader he is. 

“Well, I’m stepping down. If that’s what we do, I don’t want to take part in it.” You wanted to tell him a lot more, give Graves a piece of your mind on war crimes and killing people in their own homes. On how drowning Las Almas in blood won’t fix whatever the fuck he was trying to fix right now. Instead, you kept it to yourself, tightening your fists just so you didn’t spit in his face or punch him.

“You’re putting a target on your back. Do you not understand how what you’re saying makes you look?” Graves leans in closer to you, the low volume of his voice making it even more threatening, similar to the hissing of a snake. Give him a minute and he will start spewing real venom right in your face. 

“You know that whatever you’re thinking is not true.” To be completely honest, you didn’t care what he thought right now. Graves’ mind and morals were clearly in the wrong place if he considered all this bloodshed justified. 

“Do I really? A moment ago I was sure that you were my subordinate, now I’m not even sure what to make of you.” You’re barely able to resist rolling your eyes at this. Your heart is picking up the pace with each minute. Getting more and more desperate to leave your body altogether, just so you don’t have to listen to his bullshit any longer. You wish it was that easy.

“I’m not taking orders from you. Not anymore.” Saying this took a lot more out of you than you expected, you felt your chest tremble when you met your CO’s eyes.

“Well, would you just look at that, you happen to be a fan of our local drug lord too?” If eyes could kill, Graves would’ve dropped dead right this moment. He smiles, his sharp canines peeking from under his top lip. He knows he’s making your skin crawl and your stomach flip from this interaction, which, if you’re lucky, would be the last for the two of you. “Helping the cartel and corrupt police won’t look too good on your resume”

“I see you’re just making it up as you go.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in your chest. Shaky. Uneven. Infuriated. Your eyes are drilling Graves’, a deep frown between them as proof of how much you despise him now, for the baseless assumption too. After a moment of silence, you add. “You know what my stance on this is. Whether I get your approval or not, I’m leaving.” Graves finally withdraws from your personal space, sliding the palm over his face with a heavy sigh, as his lips tighten into a thin line. You knew that this combination meant he was trying to calm down. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again. 

“Look, Bug, you’re a smart kid and frankly, I like you.” he makes a short pause, sighing. “So, I’ll give you a fighting chance. Five minutes – if you’re not out of the city, then you’re a target.” He wasn’t that fucking courteous with the civilians that lay dead a few meters away. Shot on sight. Without any questions. You grit your teeth.

What are you supposed to do with that? Those five minutes didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, most likely, you’ll be rotting in the ditch somewhere shortly after your time runs out - too little to get out of the city or find the Task Force you so desperately wanted to help. Graves won’t leave any witnesses. And you are one. He knows it’s not going to be easy for you to just turn on the Shadows like that too, even though you despised what they were doing while following his orders. They still were your family. Dysfunctional and disproportionately big, but family, nonetheless. Even if they deserved it for their lack of action to prevent what was happening now, you don’t turn on your family like that. What he’s doing is forcing your hand.

Regardless, you have no choice but to take Graves up on his last “generous” offer.

“What are you waiting for, hm? Get out of here while you can.” You didn’t need to be told that twice. So, still balancing your rifle on your arm, your free hand reaches for that patch on your shoulder. Tearing it off in a quick motion makes the sound of Velcro strips snapping open almost echo from how quiet it is. It felt like a whole mountain dropped off of your shoulders when you threw the patch on the ground and stormed out of the building right into the pouring rain.

You felt goosebumps and tremors creeping up your spine as you ran through the dark streets, getting more and more soaked with each second. You didn’t feel much better though. The resentment for Graves grew each second, with all the steps that sent ripples on the surface of the deep puddles, and every raindrop that fell from the copper-colored clouds. But now wasn’t the time to wallow in your misery. Although you wanted to. It did feel like the loss of a person you used to know, of someone you looked up to. The only thing is, he was still living and breathing, and the only thing that died was that idealized image of him in your head. 

There was a cold hollowness somewhere in your chest. Gaping with the darkness that, and you were sure of it, will eat you alive soon enough. Even though you backed out of the Shadow company, it won’t bring back all the people who are not here anymore. You won’t fix it, no matter how hard you try. That bitter guilt snaked its way into the back of your mind and it was there to help stay. 

You managed to pull yourself out of this to make things right. But why do you feel so helpless still?

Your footsteps get faster and faster, as you maneuver through the narrow alleyways, staying out of the range your former colleagues were in. It was easy to hear them, gunshots and voices echoed throughout the city in a weird cacophony that your ears got used to after a long time working for the Shadow Company. They were not afraid, probably feeling like masters here. Somebody has to give them a scare, you thought. So they know better in the future. But it wasn’t your job at the moment. Right now, you needed to get out and do it as soon as possible.

Stopping and coming up with any sort of plan that would help you was not an option - hang in somewhere for too long and you’ll be found. And you were sure you wouldn’t be shown any mercy. 

So instead of staying on the street, where you can be easily spotted with the help of the dim light of a flashlight, you decide to alternate between the corridors of empty homes, with doors wide open for anyone seeking shelter, and the maze of alleyways crawling with Shadows. It felt wrong, invading someone’s homes like this, but you knew if they were unlocked and lights beamed around them, giving out a warm glow the inhabitants were most likely not coming back.

You felt that tingle on the nape of your neck, ready to hide or flee in case you heard any sudden movement from any direction. It’s dead quiet, except for occasional radio talk from the shadows, which you tried to listen in on when you could. It didn’t give you much on where 141 could be. You would start losing hope if you had any left after Graves. But you continue your search nonetheless, reflexes instead of thinking, pure determination instead of hope, and fire in your veins, instead of blood.

That is until you quietly step inside another warm hallway, and you’re met with a wide-eyed stare from another Shadow that makes you freeze like a deer in the headlights. Something inside of you starts to churn with terror from the looming understanding – only one of you will walk out of here alive. Your eyes trail down to the raven patch on his tac vest. It’s Kruk. You want to ask what he is doing here, but you already feel his gaze studying you too. And as soon as he sees that the Shadow Company patch is missing from your uniform, the muzzle of his rifle points right at you. Fucking shit.

“Drop your gun, Kruk!” You warn the man, pointing the weapon in his direction too. He only shakes his head, refusing to stand down. With each second air is laced with tension more and more, you were sure that soon enough it’ll be so thick even a knife wouldn’t cut through it.

“You drop yours first.” His voice is shaky and unsure like he can’t believe what he’s doing right now either. “Commander gave us an order. You’re an enemy now too, Bug. Better get used to it.” Kruk started slowly approaching you, while pulling something out of the bag, strapped on his hip.

“Oh, fuck that!” You swing towards Kruk, trying to approach him in your momentary rage, but you’re immediately met with the warning “Don’t” from Kruk, who doesn’t stand down. “You know what they’re doing here. It doesn’t matter to you?” The man is silent. You don’t see his face behind his mask, so you’re left with even more questions instead of answers. Regardless of what he was thinking right now, you didn’t want to hurt him. So, you bend down and put your rifle on the ground with a quiet clack. If he needs a gesture of goodwill, he can have it. “Your turn.” Kruk only shakes his head.

“Turn around.” So, it was a mistake to trust him. Naturally. Your gullibility will be your downfall. You can almost feel the bitter taste spread inside of your mouth when you look at Kruk. Fucking asshole. But you comply, although reluctantly. He grabs you roughly by the wrists with one hand and by the neck with another, leading you toward what looks like a kitchen in the dim lights falling through the doorway. You get lowered on your knees and then pressed into the dirty floor. And it hits right then and there. He’s going to execute you. Oh, shit, shit, shit.

“You know that I don’t want to do this.” He says quietly so that any shadows passing by don’t hear him. You feel your heartbeat shake your whole body and nausea so intense like you are on the verge of throwing up all of your internal organs, but giving up is just not an option right now. So, you try to prevent him from tying your hands together with all the strength you have.

“Then don’t fucking do it!” He does not answer this as you continue squirming in his hold, trying to make it as hard as possible for him to restrain you. He only grunts but keeps a firm grip. Your head was a mess, you thought Shadows were a family. But all it took was one order from Graves, now they’re scouring the town like damn bloodhounds for you too.

“Get…off of me!” You grit through your teeth. You feel a zip tie slide over your hands and turn your head. The rifle he previously held in his hands was gone, probably so he could tie you up properly, so you take your chance and deliver a hard kick to Kruk’s stomach. He chokes out a pained gasp and finally lets go of your hands. You scurry to get up from the floor with wide smears of rainwater and dirt decorating it, but you get grabbed by the leg, which causes you to stumble and fall once again. You turn your head and kick Kruk with all your might, while attempting to take off the zip tie off your wrists, which, thankfully, he didn’t have the time to close.

You manage to shake the man off of you, as you scramble to your feet, knocking over a corner table with some decorations on it. Yet when you see Kruk fumbling with his hip holster you immediately tackle him to the ground, which causes him to drop the handgun. The whole fight is just a mess, nothing but blinding rage is pulsing in your temples, melting your bones and muscles into something no better than an animal. You get up again, while Kruk is on the floor, searching for the handgun in the darkness. You feel the heavy metal press against your boot and you kick it behind you. You hear it slide across the floor and here it is. Kruk’s eyes, are directed right at you. His hands claw at your leg, trying to drag you down to the floor. And then you black out completely. Kicking, punching, pained wheezes and screams are all you hear, a stuffy abyss with little to no specks of light surrounding you.

You come back to your senses when you don’t feel the familiar weight of your handgun pressing against your hip and then you see it again. Kruk managed to grab it while you were in your anger-induced frenzy. Everything around you slows down. His shaky fingers pull on the safety, but you reach out and grab his hands, pulling them up, not letting him aim at you. Kruk grunts and you see his eyes focused on you in fear, and desperation, as he tries to overpower you in the struggle. You see his weakened state, but the self-preservation is stronger than any compassion towards him at the moment. Kruk will take your life if you don’t take his. That’s just the gist of it. You can’t let him walk away.

Your hands tremble when he manages to overpower you momentarily, but it’s all in vain when you press the handgun harder and harder into his frame, feeling his hands start to yield more and more with each second, strength leaving him. The fear in his eyes is directed at you and only you, but you try not to look. The muzzle of your gun is pressed snugly under his chin. Your gaze trails to his eyes once again. They burn you with terror. Your fingers hook around the trigger guard. You hear a faint whisper.

“Please…”

Gunshot rings in your ears for another second, despite the earmuffs in your helmet.

“Fuck! Fuck…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry.” It all came crashing down on you in one moment. You wouldn’t feel guilty if it was the enemy, you wouldn’t care. He was an enemy now, so why do you feel so guilty, why is it starting to corrode and eat you alive even more? Your palms cover the profusely bleeding gunshot wound, going through his neck and cranium, hot blood pouring out with impossible speed, staining your hands, gear, and skin. Staining your whole being. How could you do something like this? Shadows are family. Killing an unarmed man who’s pleading for his life?

You’re no better than Graves.

The gunshot alerts the Shadows and they start scurrying around on the street. You have no time to mourn Kruk or search for your rifle in the dark, so you yank your handgun out of his hands which only started succumbing to rigor mortis, and sprint out the backdoor, desperately attempting to get away. You can feel your heartbeat booming in your ears, wet hair sticking to the nape of your neck, as you hear distant commotion and a chase stirring behind you, as you dart inside another building and run through the hallways, searching for a way out.

Back on the street, rain droplets are so cold that it feels like they’re splitting your skin open, you can barely feel the pain in your ankle from adrenaline pumping through your blood flow. You start slipping on the slick pavement, but you still refuse to stop, diving inside another doorway. Your head hurts, your lungs feel like they are about to explode, and you think you stepped into a puddle of someone’s blood. No time to ram through the locked door, so you jumped out of the second-story window and landed on your foot, twisting it in the process and swallowing the sob that welled up in your throat. You needed to move.

That bought you some time to get up and dip into the dark alleyway before you heard the loud footsteps approaching the window that you used to escape. You let out a heavy exhale, propping your back against the cold stone. You’re not completely safe, but…that’s better than nothing. The commotion of shadows quiets down and you hear it become more and more distant with each second. 

After a moment of silence, you continue moving, albeit slowly, trying to get used to the hot pulsing in your leg, that shot up right through your nerves with each step you tried to take. You wince and whine in pain, dragging your leg behind, grabbing at the moist stone walls, clinging to them for any sort of support. However, it’s not much of a help. 

Your escape is cut short when your legs finally give out, causing you to stumble and fall while crossing the church garden. Although it probably looked magical in the daylight, right now it was far from it, the smell of metal and smoke still lacing the darkness. You already feel your ankle swelling and some bruises forming under all your gear. You see the lights on the exterior of the church blend into the ribbon of lights and shadows and the thought crosses your mind. You can hide there.

You almost fly up the stairs despite the hurting leg, fumbling with the door for a second, before it creaks open. You shuffle inside with light steps and close the door behind you as quietly as you can. Your knees tremble as you slide down the cold wall and crawl further inside the building, barely feeling any strength left in you. God, you are so drained. Strained gasps are ripped out of your throat every second. You want nothing more than to lie down right there in this church and just let the darkness overtake you in a peaceful slumber. That would be so easy.

Your calm moment is interrupted by someone yanking you up on your feet, to which you let out a surprised yelp. You can’t see the person, but you can feel their hands tugging on your gear roughly and dragging you somewhere. It takes you a second to weigh your pretty limited options given the fact it’s so dark that you are barely able to make out your surroundings. So, you decide to take this fight head on and your heavy boot comes down right on their foot, which prompts the person to grunt, revealing a pretty low male voice, and let go of you.

You tear out from his grasp and almost tumble down to the church floor, bunching up dust with your loud, uneven footsteps. Your back is hunched as you look up at the dark figure from under your eyebrows, ready to deflect any blows if he decides to attack first. You stay silent, feeling like a cornered animal in his presence, small, feeble. Weak. Of course, you were at a disadvantage here, taking a beating, running from Shadows, twisting your ankle, and losing your rifle certainly didn’t help your chances to win, but you were ready to claw your way out of here with your bare hands, breaking your nails and skinning your hands if you had to.

But any punches or kicks you try to land the man easily deflects or blocks, not trying to attack or overpower you however, opting to just take up the defensive position in the fight. Which is, admittedly, a lot easier than taking the offensive one. Maybe he was aiming to exhaust you and then, when you are at your lowest point, he would attack. That seemed like a solid tactic, but you don’t want to let that happen. However, before you can think of anything you end up rolling with the man on the floor. You can hear him huff in frustration and exertion, the wood pressing harshly against your ribs and all the bruises on your lower body pulsing with pain.

After some struggle, however, you managed to tackle the man to the ground, pressing him down to the floor with your weight. Your hands snaked their way onto his neck as you glared at him, resisting the urge to bare your teeth akin to a stray, abused, and betrayed dog, crawling with fleas and parasites. Choking him out obviously wasn’t a nice thing to do, but you were trying to send a message here, that if you continue being followed, you will use your strength. If violence was the only language Shadows understood (and that’s who you believe the man was) then you were ready to become fluent.

“I swear, I’ll fucking kill you!” You press him into the floor harder, hands squeezing the man’s throat, your vision going blurry. You feel his hands grasp at your wrists, but he does not resist. Why is he not trying to shake you off? Why is he letting you choke him like this? Why is he not fighting back? 

“Let go, Bug.” The man’s voice is strained, but familiar, he whispers through his closed jaw. You can hear the way his throat tenses up, or his Adam’s apple bobs under your thick gloves, the warmth of his skin, and the moisture that seeped into the mask. Mask. More light falls through the window thanks to the momentary flicker of the streetlight. Skull. Eight lines on his chin, two on the forehead. Dark brown eyes.

Your hands shoot up like his neck is on fire. Guilt settles in your gut and your throat, pulling you in like you’re some puppet with no free will. You try to get up from the man’s midsection but tumble down on your side from trying to do it too quickly. It’s Ghost. How the hell did you not recognize Ghost?

“I’m sorry. I’m not…myself right now.” You were now sitting on the floor, palms resting on your face, wet from the rain, skin burning up, either trying to regulate the temperature or from all the exertion. Either way, it didn’t matter right now.

“Yeah, you made it pretty obvious.” Ghost coughs, trying to shake off your attempt to cut off his air circulation just seconds ago, as he gets up from his lying position. “At least now I know you’ve got a good grip.” He lets out a deep chuckle which only earns him an eyebrow raise from you. He was joking at a time like this? Must’ve hit his head pretty hard too.

“I could’ve choked you. Why did you not fight back more?” You were royally confused about that. He could’ve stopped the fight before it even began and avoided some bruises along with the sore neck if he just told you who he was or fought back. But he didn’t.

Ghost wants to say something, but stops himself right after opening his mouth. You see it in the way he looks at you. The pause stretches for an endless amount of time and you feel your skin crawling with anxiety while his eyes study your face.

“I was going easy on ya.” Ghost says in a rather blunt manner, which didn’t answer that many of your questions. Well, if he was going easy, he should’ve been at least going at you, which wasn’t true – you saw him only defending himself and blocking some of your blows. Did he?.. Was he trying not to hurt you? Okay, the more you thought about it, the wilder it sounded. Maybe you should just drop it. “I don’t suppose you came here to wash your sins away.” You want to scoff from the bad taste. “Lil’ birdie told me you ditched the Shadows. Any particular reason why?” The man inquires, turning to you. Sitting like this on the floor with him felt unusual, like some sort of weird church sleepover. Give Ghost a minute and he’ll bring you some ice cream so you two can watch some wacky TV shows together.

“Did your little birdie also tell you that Graves is hunting me down too?” You ask while pulling your drenched mask over your face. It brought some comfort and familiarity that were gone the moment you spoke to your CO in that living room. And, well, it would be awkward if Ghost was the only one in the mask.

“I guessed by the gunshots, some racket, and a horde of Shadows taking a night run through the neighborhood close by.” The man chuckles and you feel your face burn up in embarrassment under your mask. You try not to let it show, however. You knew that it wasn’t a very sleek move that you pulled with Kruk, but you were desperate and you didn’t need motherfucking Ghost telling you it was stupid. 

“You’re just hilarious. Is that how you became a lieutenant, by cracking jokes left and right?” You roll your eyes and hope he won’t notice it in the darkness. This banter was pointless, you knew it but…you needed it. It was not easy losing something familiar, so you desperately wanted to feel that camaraderie you experienced in the Shadows.

“You’ll find out once you’re a lieutenant yourself.” And Ghost indulges you. Which, you are thankful for. Isn’t such a scary guy after all, huh?

“Yeah, if I’m alive long enough.” You scoff at his concealed attempt to comfort and reassure you, but you can’t help that warm feeling in your chest. Weird.

“Well, you’ve already surpassed my expectations by staying alive until now.” The man stands up from the floor with a low grunt, pressing an arm around his midsection, right around where you might’ve pinned him to the floor with your body. “Let’s make sure it lasts, eh?” He extends a gloved hand toward you in an open, inviting gesture. Your eyes trail over his huge figure and land on specks of light in his eyes.

His eye black is all smudged and messy.

You have to shake off the sudden thought, observation too close and intimate for your liking, as you grab him by the forearm, trying to ignore the way your skin burns up when you feel his warmth through his gear. Ghost pulls you up to your feet, but doesn’t let go of your arm once you’re up. You don’t let go either. The silence rings in your ears. God, he’s so warm.

 “Are you like a human furnace or something?” You joke to fill the excruciating silence. Which you immediately regret. You wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see just how his face stretched the fabric of a skull mask, which you clearly heard happen by a small shuffle very close to you. Who knows, maybe he cracked a smile?

“Why? Need someone to warm you up at night?” Okay, this is terrible and stupid, and so damn corny, and why do you feel your cheeks grow hot and breath get stuck in your chest? Maybe that’s just how awful his jokes are. Ghost clears his throat and reluctantly lets go of your forearm, fingers still clinging to your sleeve as he pulls himself away too quickly for it to be something nonchalant or casual.

“So, are you answering my question, or do I have to use torture?” Fucking hell, his jokes are morbid. You almost forgot in those several hours you haven’t interacted with him. Although that would be quite hard, he leaves quite an impression, after all.

“Well, I suppose you’ve seen the…the civilians?” You can’t call them anything besides that. To call them corpses is to take away from their whole being. To call them dead would just be a lie. They were still alive in the walls of their homes, in the memories of their breathing relatives and friends, and in the pictures, their traces are everywhere. Ghost silently nods to your question, prompting you to continue. “Then here’s your reason.” You didn’t want to explain your feelings in great detail. And you didn’t feel the need to; you saw the compassion in his eyes. “Plus, the whole thing with the Los Vaqueros base.” If you saw Ghost’s face now you’d note how the expression darkened in a single moment. However, you do feel the temperature in the room fall several degrees lower, so you decide to joke again. “Pay wasn’t that good anyway, so…”

“Fair enough.” The man chuckles while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll keep an eye on you though. Don’t think you can just waltz in here like this and be completely trusted.” Well, that’s understandable. If you were him you wouldn’t trust yourself either. Although you did hope that the mercy you’ve shown him earlier would influence his decision making. At least a little bit. “And you better toss that thing. Or else.” He points to the radio, still strapped to your tactical vest. You unclasp the device, detaching the small microphone that was holding on by a thread, and hand it to Ghost.

“You’re welcome to get rid of it for me.” And he doesn’t waste any time, dropping the radio on the ground, stomping on it so hard that the sound of it breaking echoes through the church. You assess the scraps of wires and plastic on the floor with a pitiful gaze, coming to a conclusion that you wouldn’t want to end up under Ghost’s boot. Or maybe you would, but under different circumstances. “Well, that’s…effective.”

“You good with the sniper rifle?” The man ignores your previous remark, immediately firing back with the question.  

“Decent.” You were a lot better in close quarters and preferred a more hands-on approach. But a sniper rifle wasn’t that bad. As long as he doesn’t ask you to use it without a scope.

“You’re on the lookout with me then. Don’t screw it up.”

Oh, you’re absolutely not going to.

check out my masterlist or send me a request!

a/n – first of all, thank you for reading this fic, and if you enjoyed it, consider dropping me a comment, i’ll really appreciate it! SECOND OF ALL.  I’M NOT A GRAVES HATER, DON’T COME @ ME. segment with him also was written before the campaign release, so in case there are some inaccuracies with the plot/his character – let me know, so I can fix it. all of this is a huge rework of the series that I started but never posted. Originally, it was supposed to be Graves x Reader, but for multiple reasons, moral mostly, it didn’t quite sit right with me. So instead of letting 6k words first part that I’ve written and abandoned go to waste, I decided to remake it into something else here, based on the idea of @mockerycrow (ily you have such a big brain)! so yeah, that’s it for now!

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #ghost x reader #modern warfare ii #cod #mw2022 #mw2 2022 #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost cod #simon riley x gn!reader #ghost angst #simon riley angst

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 2

Hello! This story is coming along quite nicely. This part originally was part of the first chapter, but it got so long I split it up for Tumblr.

Dustin hyperfixates sooo hard in this. Eddie gets annoyed.

Part 1

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Dustin leapt to his feet and handed the magazine to Eddie. “I do have their first album. It’s really good. My favorite is “Brother”. It’s just so touching.”

Steve bit his bottom lip and nodded, forcing himself not to look at Robin just then.

He came back with his Walkman and a pair of speakers. He got it all set up and pressed play. Then while they were listening to the CD, he dashed back to his room.

“I haven’t gotten their second album yet,” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran back. Moments later he came out with a couple of rolled posters.

“I have more of their posters in my dormroom but I bought these a few months ago and haven’t put them up yet.”

He unrolled one of them and it was the album cover blown up large. It had four men in long hooded coats and masks. There was definitely a color theme for each of the members of the band. The drummer was all in black, the guitarist in red, the bassist in blue, and the lead singer in white.

“What’s with the masks?” Robin asked, leaning over Steve’s shoulder.

Dustin bounced up and down. “That’s part of their personas. They’re fallen angels. Well, and titan. The bassist is named after the titan of the night sky, Astraeus. But all the others are named after angels.”

Eddie winced at the poster. “They’re a little much, don’t you think?”

“Like there aren’t other metal bands wear makeup or masks before them,” Dustin said rolling his eyes.

Eddie wrinkled his nose. He did know. It was actually something that was really prevalent in the genre for awhile. He just thought it was gimmicky and took away from the actual music.

Music that was coming out of Dustin’s Walkman in beautiful waves. That brought Eddie up short. They were good. Like amazingly good. “Whoa.”

Dustin beamed. “I know, right?”

Steve made a twisted kind of frown. “I mean it’s great if you like that sort of thing.”

Dustin whirled on Steve like a viper sensing its dinner. “Just because you don’t like metal, Steve,” he huffed in derision, “doesn’t mean that you can just dismiss it.”

Steve looked over at Eddie and rolled his eyes.

Eddie snorted. “Nobody is dismissing anything, Dusty. In fact I would say that what Steve said was anything but dismissive.”

“I just don’t know why you don’t like metal,” Dustin replied with a heavy sigh. “I know that if you just listened to it, you would like it.”

This time the look Steve shared was with Robin. “I’ve listened to a lot of metal, remember? You’re the one that hacked my radio so that I couldn’t change it off the metal station.”

Dustin snorted. “Well at least Simon and Shane have taste.”

Simon Olsen and Shane Kendrick were two friends of Steve’s that had bonded over Corroded Coffin playing over the speakers of the coffee shop. Another thing that Dustin had insisted on. But Steve wasn’t about to tell Eddie that. Together with Spencer Peters, the four of them were almost as tight as the Corroded Coffin boys.

Eddie himself was conflicted about their relationship, if he was honest. Yeah, it was great that Steve had friends outside of the Party, but at same time, he suspected that at least one of them was gay or bisexual and he worried that they would swoop in and take Steve off the market before Eddie got up the courage.

That was a problem for future Eddie, present Eddie had to redirect Dustin before he began screaming at Steve all the reasons he should join the masses of fans for Corroded Coffin and now apparently The Fallen. Steve had a migraine and Dustin’s ranting would only make it worse.

Eddie smacked his shoulder. “Am I still taking you out with me in June to see your mom when I go visit Uncle Wayne?”

Dustin was happy to change tracks, and Steve mouthed ‘Thank you’ to Eddie.

“Yes! You have to take me,” Dustin insisted. “Ma got me tickets to see The Fallen in Indy while I’m there and I don’t want to miss it.”

“The band is going back on tour again so soon?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side. “I thought they just got off a tour.”

“They did,” Dustin agreed. “But according to the press release, they said that they were trying to get as much hype for their current album as possible because music sales were down all over the place.”

Eddie nodded. He could see that. With a band as new as The Fallen, if they didn’t keep up the momentum they could lose a lot of fans between their first and second album. There was a reason a band’s second album is often called a ‘sophomore slump’ and if these guys wanted to avoid that, that meant touring nonstop for their second album.

He wished them well...provided they didn’t steal Dustin away from him and the guys. He turned to Steve. “So what are you and Robin going to be this summer? Anything fun?”

Robin scoffed. “No. They’ve got us back on tour, too. New management, they want us to shadow this band and basically make sure that everything they want is provided.”

Eddie and Dustin grimaced.

“That sucks!” Dustin huffed. “You guys just got home, why are they making you go so soon? Don’t they believe in breaks? Sheesh!”

Steve hugged him close. “I’m sorry, bud. I talked to your mom, though and she thinks that when you go back for the summer, she’s willing to let you apply for MIT for your masters.”

Dustin’s eyes lit up. “Wait, seriously?” Claudia had always been fearful that he would get into trouble, but she had seen how much work he had put into his school work and how much Steve didn’t need to be looking after the almost twenty year old.

Steve nodded. “Yup. That’s why she got you the tickets as a way to soothe her nerves a bit.”

Eddie looked over Dustin’s shoulder at Steve and they shared a sad smile. They would miss Dustin when he went out to Boston, but they knew he would shine out there. And that was worth more than all the stars in the sky.

Eddie left soon after, stating his own fatigue and even though Steve was sad to see him go, he wanted to sleep for the next three months. Dustin was staying over at his girlfriend’s that night which left him alone with Robin.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost ten and he looked up at Robin with his big puppy dog eyes and pouted.

She let out a long sigh. “Fine. You can go to bed. Provided you actually get a shower and brush your teeth. By that time it should be late enough for you to just crash.”

Steve sighed, but nodded his agreement. He got unsteadily to his feet and ambled over to his bedroom. Robin followed close behind.

She leaned against the door frame, watching Steve gather his things for his shower.

“So Dustin is a Fallen fan, huh,” she muttered.

Steve shrugged. “I guess so. This is the first of me hearing about it, so it must be new.”

She licked her lips. “And you aren’t worried?”

He stopped what he was doing and straightened up. “Why? Do you think there is a reason to be?”

Robin crossed her arms. “I mean his nickname growing up was ‘genius child’. It’s possible he could be a problem.”

Steve scoffed. “He’s also the one that harped on us being a couple for a few years there.”

She winced. She had even told him that she was gay and he still wouldn’t let it go. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

He walked over to the en suite bathroom and turned on the hot water. “I love that kid, but he has a few major blind spots when it comes to actual people.”

“All right,” she said, nodding. “I’ll tighten up the defenses, but I think you’re right.”

“I am right some of the time,” Steve scoffed. “You do know that, don’t you?”

Robin rolled her eyes. “I guess even a broken clock can be right twice a day.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at her and then began to strip. Robin just waved at him and wandered over to her side of the apartment. Well to call it that was an understatement on its sheer size. It would be better described as a penthouse.

It only had three bedrooms, but it had three bathrooms, a full sized kitchen, an actual dinning area, a living room. Steve’s studio was off to the side and always kept locked. It even had a god damned bio lock that only Robin and he could open.

He hated the secrecy and all the cloak and dagger bullshit but it was absolutely imperative.

But the room was massive and no one had clocked that as unusual. Steve sighed deeply. It was what it was and what it was, sucked.

****

To say that Eddie was annoyed was an understatement. The whole flight to Indy and the long drive to Hawkins was filled with nothing but talk about The Fallen and their latest album. It was shooting up the charts faster than Eddie could guess the Metallica song from a few hummed bars. Which was pretty damned fast.

Steve and Robin had already gone, so Eddie didn’t even have his favorite distraction when Dustin got on his latest hyperfixation.

Then the other shoe dropped when he pulled up to the Henderson’s driveway.

“You’re coming with me, right?” the little bastard asked, all pouty lip and puppy dog eyes.

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to go with you?” Eddie huffed, more than little pissed the punk dared to ask.

Dustin rolled his eyes and started counting off on his fingers. “El and Mike won’t get in in time, Max and Lucas already have plans that night, her mom is getting married for the third time that day, and Will doesn’t like metal. He’s still a staunch alt rock fan.”

Eddie winced. And with Steve and Robin off to parts unknown, he really was Dustin’s last greatest hope. But he wasn’t going to give in that easy. He was going to make the butthead work for it. He crossed his arms and pouted.

“I don’t know, man,” Eddie said, wrinkling his nose, “I’m starting to wonder if Corroded Coffin is even on your radar anymore.”

Dustin’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s not true! Corroded Coffin is my number one. How could even suggest that?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to list the reasons alphabetically or chronologically?”

Dustin’s mouth closed with a snap. He ducked his head. “I haven’t stopped talking about The Fallen since you picked me up from Steve’s, huh?”

“Nope!”

He let out a slow breath. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m just so excited for this concert. According to Ma the tickets were really hard to get and now I don’t have anyone to go with me and I–” He sniffled.

“It’s just you know how you get with new things,” Eddie pointed out.

Dustin nodded. “I know. But I promise I still love Corroded Coffin. When are you guys going back into the studio?”

Eddie smiled for the first time that trip. “After I get back from visiting Wayne, I’ve got a couple songs already lined up for it.”

“And how many of those songs are about Steve?” Dustin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie cheeks colored a deep red. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll go to that concert of yours and you don’t mention to anyone that I write songs about Steve, deal?”

Dustin tilted his head to side and looked up, tapping his lips thoughtfully. He stuck out his hand and Eddie shook it.

“Deal.”

****

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @y4r3luv

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #the fallen

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ║ ❝𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐈 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡❞

(A/n) ➳ I would like to apologize with how long this took me to write, I will admit, I was too busy planning out a Series for Striker (Helluva Boss). Also, I added another chapter so it’s gonna end with twelve chapters!

Word Count ➳ mentions of violence, blood, sexual content, groping, pet names (Darlin’), swearing, oral (M), mentions of selling drugs (Adderall), alcohol use…

Content Warnings ➳ 2k

JUDAS MASTERLIST

IT WAS A COUPLE OF HOURS AFTER RICK LEFT YOUR APARTMENT.

Your coffee machine was working overtime with the amount of cups you consumed. You couldn’t sleep with the constant texts from Lori and her mother dragging you over the coals about leaving a perfect man like Shane.

If you couldn’t avoid their words awake, you couldn’t find an escape in your dreams, you couldn’t escape everyone’s goddamn opinions. You paced around your apartment, cleaning and reading, reading and cleaning… And they were getting to you. You were starting to feel like you made a mistake.

You had never seen Lori angry, the last time you recounted would be on her wedding day, you couldn’t remember why but just the furious look on her face. And now, to drag her pregnant self to your doorstep and into your safe place, you couldn’t forget it.

No matter how many cups of coffee or the pages you flipped or the mirrors you wiped down or the batter you mixed. It was all starting to become too much to handle.

And when you heard knocking on your door, you were sure it was her again, ready to scream at you once again. You tried to ignore it, but it seemed to get louder and louder by the second. Whoever was on the other side was persistent.

You sucked it up and was ready to curse them out until you saw Daryl. For a moment, everything fell to relief until you saw the bruise over his left eye, a split lip, and bloody knuckles.

Both of you stared at each other. None knew what to say until he attempted to step forward, his voice was gruff and you couldn’t comprehend what was said. You remembered bringing him inside and sitting him down on your chair, asking all kinds of questions.

“What the hell happened?”

“How did you get this?”

Daryl remained silent, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. His eyes looked empty and he never pulled his hands back when you cleaned them, it was only when you reached to take off his jacket and shirt and stood behind him is when he pulled away.

You didn’t know and he didn’t want you to know. He couldn’t. You took a couple of steps back and turned the other way to let Daryl handle the rest of his injuries. You felt even worse now.

Did you overstep?

It was only until the two of you were in your room, that you still bore the shirt he left behind, more like it was stolen from him. You refused to give it back when he was leaving for work.

He laid his head against your shoulder, taking in your perfume, his cologne, and cigarettes.

“Daryl-”

He hushed you with a kiss, pushing you down onto the bed, his hands sliding under the shirt to grope your breasts.

“Please.” You heard him whisper in your ear. “Help me, would ya?”

And you listened, ripping off his leather jacket but letting him take off his shirt himself. You knew what he wanted, after all, he too fucked you mindless and he made you think about him.

But even if he was able to fog his mind with nothing but you, you couldn’t do the same. Your mind wouldn’t go blank and think about how good he felt inside of you or how he knew what made you click.

It was early in the morning, around seven. You had a freshly brewed cup of coffee as you sat back on your recliner, legs crossed as your eyes were glued to under the sofa. You could see the corner of the paper peeking out. Your nails tapped the mug.

“That guy isn’t who he seems to be.”

You scoffed to yourself. How desperate is Shane that he needed to have a background check on someone because you rejected him?

It was baffling, you never thought a man like Shane could go this far. You always held him in high regard, you had respect for him even if he got around a lot. But all the women you spoke to said that he was kind and caring, a boyfriend everyone would want.

But you never understood why he had so many girlfriends, he too said they were the best, rarely were bad ones. He once said that he planned on proposing but then they broke up, he refused to say anything about it and she ignored all your texts so you stopped contacting her.

You set the mug on the coffee table and bent down to push the paper back. You then jumped when you felt a hand on your rear, giving it a hard squeeze.

“Dammit Daryl!” you slapped his hand away but smiled when you got back up.

His hair was still wet from the shower, he wore a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. His leather jacket hung over the arm of the sofa. “Somethin’ under there?” He asked you.

You shook your head, grabbing your hot mug. “I was lookin’ for the remote, thought it was there.”

Daryl chuckled, walking to your kitchen. “What’s with the damn coffee?” You heard him say,

You followed him, seeing him pour himself a cup. “If you don’t like it, you can gladly find some other apartment to crash in.” Placing your hands on your hips. “How long you plan on stayin’?”

“Don’ like me ‘ere?” He blew on his coffee a few times before taking a sip, licking his lips.

“You know I do.” You retorted, leaning against your counter. “I’m worried ‘bout you. You show up to my place without a warnin’, all bloody ‘n shit, and you still never told me what happened.”

“Ya really wanna know?”

“I mean… If it’s alright.”

Daryl nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s alright.” He replied. “Shit jus’ got rough at work. Things could’ve gone worse if my brother wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean?”

“I work at a bike shop, the customer wasn’t happy with the cost of fixin’ his shit bike.”

“A bike shop, really? And here I thought you worked at a cafe.” You joked.

Daryl lifted an eyebrow. “Ya screwin’ with me?”

You snorted loudly, giggling at his reaction. “No shit!” He rolled his eyes at you. “So, where is your shop?”

“North, jus’ into the mountains.”

You hummed. “I… I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

“When I was gonna take off your shirt, I-”

“Ya ain’t gotta apologize for shit. Ya were tryin’ to help. Ma fault for not sayin’ anythin’.”

“Well, it ain’t normal for you to come to my place unexpectedly. But I’m glad to see you okay.” You reached over to touch his eyes, grazing over them. “I’d give it a couple of weeks, are you in pain?”

Daryl hummed. “Jus’ some throbbin’.” He set his cup into the sink, his hands coming to your hips. “But I’m sure ya can treat it as well.”

You smirked, that same hand coming down his eye.” Then you gotta tell me what you need.” Your hand trailing down his chest and to cup his semi-hard cock.

“Put yer mouth on it.” He immediately said, keeping eye contact. Even when you got on your knees and slowly pulled down his pants and you grasped his cock.

You could see him getting frustrated, grabbing the back of your head and giving it a push. “Keep your hands to yourself, Daryl.” You told him. “Touch me again and I’ll leave you like this.”

He cursed under his breath, throwing his head back when you jerked him off. “C’mon, darlin’.” He let out a deep breath.

Daryl shuddered when he felt your mouth come around his cock. “Ya sure love playin’ with-”

“(Y/N)! I’m sorry I got-!” Amy burst through the door with Andrea by her side. It was like time froze, her eyes making contact with Daryl’s.

You scrambled to get away, hiding against the counters as Daryl struggled to put his pants back on. “The hell?!” He shouted, tucking himself away as he glared at the intruders. “Who the hell are ya?!” He demanded to know.

Andrea stepped forward, trying to remain calm. “You must be Daryl! We heard so much ‘bout you!” But you could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Y’all couldn’t knock?”

You got up, clearing your throat. “Daryl, this is Andrea and her sister, Amy.” You introduced them yourself. “So guys… What are you doin’ here?”

“...I got your text late.” Amy murmured, looking rather horrified. She did just catch you blowing off Daryl in the middle of your kitchen.

Andrea raised an eyebrow, a playful grin on her lips. “Looks like we interrupted somethin’.” Looking back at Amy, still looking scared. “Care to explain yourselves?”

You glanced at Daryl, who looked angry. “Nothin’. Daryl jus’ stopped by to hang out.”

“Uh-huh… Jus’ hangin’ out… On your knees.” She clicked her tongue. “Totally not traumatized.”

“Stop it.” Andrea whispered in her ear, smacking her shoulder. “So Daryl! Tell us how (Y/n) got on her knees for you.”

“Amy!”

“Hey! I deserve some answers after seeing that!” You argued with Amy, even if the situation was serious, it was still laughable. But you also had to calm the girl down after coming into your apartment like that. The text you sent did sound rather strange, she had never seen you send a message like that.

The two of you were still laughing it off while Andrea attempted to talk to Daryl but refused to look at her, his eyes glanced in your direction but moved off you.

“Daryl?”

“What?” He spoke rather quickly, she didn’t feel like they were intruding… No, she had that familiar suspicion that she had about many others.

“Daryl? As in Daryl fuckin’ Dixon?!”

“The hell y’all be lookin’ for Dixon?”

“If ya do find ‘im, let ‘im know he still owe me my fuckin’ money!”

“Looks like you got us into deep shit.” Any huffed, rubbing her eyes as she sat back in the car seat. “You nearly got us killed over some naggin’ feel you have.”

“Was I ever wrong ‘bout it?”

“No but each time you didn’t us killed!” Any screamed, wanting to pull out her hair. “Dad always told us we shouldn’t go where we aren’t welcomed and we clearly aren’t here.”

It was a couple of days after Andrea and Amy walked in on you and Daryl. Andrea had come to her college and dragged her into her car, not saying a word until they reached the mountains.

Andrea started the car, pulled out of the parking lot of the gas station and drove. “We jus’ ain’t askin’ the right questions!”

“You still wanna ask around? Have some faith in (Y/n). She knows who she’s getting into.”

“C’mon, don’t tell me that Daryl isn’t getting more suspicious by the hour.”

“…You ain’t wrong there either.”

“We’ll try again, jus’ one more.”

Any opened her phone, reading through her texts. “Try the Midnight Rumbling, my friends say it’s a popular spot.”

“Popular as in college popular?”

“Yeah but all sorts of illegal activities. She said that’s where she gets her Adderall.”

“Ain’t that the stuff you guys use to study?”

“Yeah, the campus has been lockin’ down on anyone who sells it. So, they come to this spot to get some of it.”

Andrea chuckled. “And you say I’m a bad influence.”

“Shut up and drive.”

“I gotta admit, at least The Golden Bite has clean floors.” Andrea’s arm was linked with her sisters, the two of them cowering by the loud banter from everyone and how glass was heard breaking.

The drinks were pouring by the second that she had a feeling that the bartender wasn’t even keeping count of each pour.

Amy gasped when she had to dodge two muscular men fighting, a crowd formed around them, shouting cheers and insults along with placing bets on whoever will bite the dust or win.

“I need a shower.” She groaned, following Andrea to the bar. “Feels like somethin’ is crawlin’ under my skin.”

Andrea nodded in agreement, looking over her shoulder. “…I think this might be a lost cause.”

“Now you’re seein’ it?”

“Ain’t you the one who said to come here?”

“It was a recommendation!”

“Bullshit-!”

“If it ain’t Judas! You better have my bike Dixon!”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @yoowhatthefuck , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @devilxbug , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @tremendousstarlighttragedy , @skulliecadaver-blog ,

⊰ Chapter 6 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 8 ⊰

#x reader #x female reader #the walking dead x you #twd daryl #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixon #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead smut #the walking dead x reader #twd Andrea #twd any

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Soundtrack of Life

Plot: Y/n, Joel and Ellie journey to Bill and Frank’s house, where Joel and Y/n are forced into a conversation.

Word Count: 11.2k

Warnings: tlou ep.3 spoilers, language, guns, canon-typical violence, mention of killing (16+)

A/N: You guys blow this thing up more and more each week and I’m blown away each time. I see all your lovely comments, even if I don’t respond. A gentle reminder that this is a 16+ fic and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their name on their page. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

Regarding this chapter, I did NOT intend forit to be this long. I honestly thought because the episode was all about Bill and Frank that it would be the shortest, but here we are. It contains one of my favorite scenes of the entire series, I’ll let you guess which one it os 😉

—————————

May 16th, 2002. Austin, Texas.

Y/n considered herself a fairly confidant person. She kept her fear reserved for things like family emergencies, natural disasters…things out of her control.

Not first dates with men she’d known a week.

She was pacing her kitchen, heels clicking against the linoleum floor and her sundress swishing each time she looped around. Her hands wrung themselves against her abdomen. She had never felt so nervous about a date, not even in high school. She figured it was a warning sign of some type. Either she was making a huge mistake or a fantastic decision. She rested her head against one of the cabinets and prayed it was the latter…

Outside Y/n’s complex, Joel had just parked his truck. Dressed in a long sleeved plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, jeans and dress shoes, he felt constrained. Like his chest had expended three sizes and the shirt was no longer able to accommodate it. Or was he just hot? Hungry?

Joel tightened his grip on the steering wheel and shut his eyes. He was nervous.

It had been at least one, maybe two years since he’d been on a date. A neighbor’s daughter that Joel had felt obligated to go out with so that it would sate his street in their constant attempts at setting him up. It had been much longer since he’d voluntarily sought someone out. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself it wasn’t marriage. They were just going to dinner. If nothing happened, it wasn’t the end of the world…

Joel sighed, but he wanted something to happen…

He picked up the roses from the passenger seat, a nod to the night they’d met, pocketed his keys and stepped out of the truck. He felt dazed as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. 41B, Y/n had told him. When he reached the door, he hesitated to knock. Such a minuscule part of the night, but the mere act of coming to her door felt like the beginning of…everything.

Three raps broke Y/n from her panic party.

She’d put on an old record, hoping it would ease her nerves. It hadn’t done a thing. She stood up straight, drawing a deep and tried to force confidence through her body.

When Y/n opened the door, Joel lost any and all words he’d been thinking over in his head. She was dressed in a simple yellow flowered dress, but it was her wearing it that melted Joel. She looked like sunshine itself.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Hi,” Joel exhaled, “Sorry if I’m late.”

Y/n looked at the clock near the door, “Only a minute. I think I can excuse that.”

Joel huffed a nervous laugh. What came next?

“These are for you,” he stated, holding out the flowers.

Roses. Y/n was shocked that Joel had remembered the tiny detail of their night in the bar. Tommy’s nickname was going to stick so long as she stuck around the Millers, she had a feeling…

“They’re gorgeous,” she giggled, “You’ve got a good memory.”

Joel gave a half shrug, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans after.

Y/n felt like her brain had stopped processing for a split second. She jumped back to reality, “Come on in, I’ll go get these in some water.”

Joel followed her into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It was modest, minimally decorated but the walls had pictures strung all over them. He could already tell she was more sentimental than materialistic. The roses had been a good decision.

Y/n made her way to her kitchen, carefully balancing as she crouched down to dig through her cabinets for a vase. Flowers. He’d brought her flowers. What guy did that on a first date? Was that a Texas gentleman thing? She didn’t particularly care, it was one of the sweetest gestures someone had ever made towards her. And tying it back to the night they’d met made it that much sweeter.

“Nice place,” Joel called from the entry area. The apartment was open so if the front door was one end, the kitchen was stretched twenty feet away from it.

“It’s decent,” Y/n replied, filling the vase with water, “Moving was such a spur of the moment decision, I didn’t think I was going to find anything.”

Joel awkwardly balled his fists at his side, he didn’t want to walk too far and cross a line. It was only then that he realized there was music playing.

“Linda Ronstadt,” he blurted.

“Oh yeah,” Y/n smiled, heading over to turn off her record player, “You like her?”

“Love her,” Joel replied, good taste in music was another box ticked for him.

“Okay,” Y/n announced, more to encourage herself, and crossed the room, “All set.”

She grabbed her purse off the hook and Joel opened the door for her.

“Where are we going?” Y/n asked as she locked the door.

This was the part Joel was dreading most of all. “Yeah,” he began, shoving his hands in his pockets, “There’s a place ‘bout ten minutes away called Tito’s. It’s, uh, it’s not the fanciest place but-“

Feeling a sudden, and most likely brief, wave of confidence wash over her, Y/n turned around and put her hand on Joel’s chest.

“Hey,” she smiled, “I don’t care about any of that. I work in a hardware store, I’m not expecting Seasons 52.”

Weight both lifted and slammed into Joel’s chest. If Y/n’s laugh could warm it, her touch could give it new life.

A corner of his mouth quirked upwards, “Okay.”

With an affirmative nod, Y/n allowed Joel to lead her down the stairs, open the car door for her and take her deep into the Friday night Austin scene…

—————————————

Tito’s had ended up being the perfect place.

There was very little a fancy restaurant could add to a date. Sure, the setting could be romantic, but that didn’t guarantee romance. At the end of the day, whether you went to the biggest hotel in the city or a fast food joint, it all boiled down to feeling that spark.

Joel and Y/n’s spark could have set fire to Austin.

“So wait,” Y/n tried to contain her laughter, they were seated out on the patio, “Tommy seriously nailed his pants…to the wall?”

Joel took a swig of his Budweiser and shrugged, “And tried to blame the nail gun.”

Y/n covered her mouth as she snorted, “So no tequila the night before a job anymore, huh?”

Joel shook his head, pointing off into the distance, “And a mile down the road, he just shot straight up in bed because I told you that story.”

Another round of laughter. “Oh gosh,” Y/n sniffled, “Can’t imagine what you two were like as kids.”

“You have any brothers or sisters?” Joel asked, every time he asked her a question, he got to stare at her. It had made him more chatty than usual.

“Two,” Y/n answered, “Sister and a brother, both older.”

“Baby of the family,” Joel observed.

“Yes, and as the age-old tale goes,” Y/n scrunched her nose and smiled, “I’m the little lost bird. Brother’s an Ivy League english teacher who vacations in Europe every year. My sister’s married to a ridiculously successful doctor and just had a baby.”

Joel listened carefully, coming up confused. “I’m not following,” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin, “What about that makes you lost?”

“They’re both very settled,” Y/n answered, swirling her beer, “They both knew exactly what they wanted in life and they went for it. One of the whole reasons I moved to Austin was to try and find that…thing, you know?”

Joel nodded, “Yeah, I get it,” he decided to lighten the mood, “And the hardware store’s it, huh?”

Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes, “No, the hardware store’s not it. But it makes me happy.”

“That’s a step in the right direction, then,” Joel commented, never taking his eyes off of her.

Y/n could have sat there for the rest of the night just enjoying the warmth of his stare. “So,” she shook herself out of the daze, “What about you? Is construction your thing?”

Joel laughed under his breath, “Pays the bills. Wasn’t originally what I saw myself doin’, but it’s work.”

“What did you want to do?” Y/n asked.

“Music,” Joel answered, “Guitar.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “You play?”

“I used to,” Joel said, knowing the question that would come after. That was the true test…”Still do sometimes, just for myself.”

“What made you stop?”

Joel sighed, staring down at the condensation that his beer had formed on the table. Either he was about to bring the night to a grinding halt or…well, he hadn’t seen the second option yet. From anyone.

“I met someone,” he started, “We had a kid. She ran out on me pretty soon after. Not a lot of time left over to go around playin’ gigs.”

The chatter around them seemed to fade as Y/n took in the reality of Joel’s answer. He was a single father, and had been for a while, it seemed. All of him made complete sense suddenly. The constant worry lines on his face, the responsibility, the work ethic…

“Boy or a girl?” Y/n took a chance and asked.

“Girl,” Joel answered, a small smile coming to his face, “She’s about to turn thirteen.”

Y/n continued, “What’s her name?”

Joel was surprised, more than surprised, that Y/n wasn’t running the other way. There weren’t a lot of women who willingly took on single dads. Here she was wanting to learn about his little family.

“Sarah.”

Y/n nodded, letting the information rest on the table. “Sarah,” she echoed, “What’s she like?”

“She’s…” Joel let out a laugh under his breath, “She’s incredible. Gets straight A’s, plays soccer, got room in her heart for just about everyone she meets…”

Y/n listened enthusiastically as Joel told stories about his stories as a single dad. How Tommy was helping to raise Sarah, how the three of them were extremely tight knit, how he wished his long hours didn’t interfere with getting to spend time with her…not even for a second did she think about leaving.

“You love her so much,” Y/n blurted before she could think it through. She just had to say it.

Joel smiled warmly over his beer bottle, “She’s my world.”

It was a moment so tender, it almost broke your heart. Joel was letting Y/n closer than anyone else had gotten…ever. And she wasn’t pulling away, she was digging in.

Inside the restaurant, there was soft music playing over a dance floor. Joel and Y/n had eyed it all evening, wondering if their night would inevitably end up there. From outside on the patio, they could hear the song change to one they both knew.

“I love this song,” Y/n said in passing.

Joel had been waiting all night for his nerves to calm or for the perfect song to transcend pass the anxiety. This was as good as it was going to get.

“You wanna dance?”

Y/n’s smile spread across her face, “Yeah.”

Joel stood and held out his hand for Y/n to take, their palms tingling at the touch. He kept a loose hold on it as he led her into the building, snaking through the crowd and onto the dance floor. Their were couples packed wall to wall, but they were able to find a pocket of space just for them.

Y/n’s heart did double time as she rested her hand on Joel’s broad shoulder. Joel pulled her towards him, connecting their hands and holding them up. They hadn’t yet been this close and it felt as intoxicating as they thought it might.

Joel’s hand rested on the higher part of Y/n’s hip. He exhaled shakily, hoping she hadn’t noticed. Slowly, they began to sway to the soft guitar.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you….

It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do….

They moved as one, Y/n’s gaze resting over Joel’s shoulder because she knew if she looked in his eyes, she’d be overwhelmed.

Joel’s desires were doing battle with his self-control. He wanted to wrap himself around her entirely, leaving no space between their bodies. He would, of course, leave it up to her. She got to decide where the night went.

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you…

And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you…

Their chests brushed against each other, sending a thrill through their bodies. The second it started to fade, Y/n chased it, inching closer to Joel till their torsos aligned.

Joel’s head instinctively turned towards her just as she looked up. Y/n’s nose grazed his cheek, his beard delightfully scraping her skin. If they had intended to make eye contact, they never made it there. With Joel’s breath fanning her face and the scent of his cologne enveloping her, Y/n didn’t dare move and disturb the perfection.

No, I don't wanna fall in love…

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

Feeling confidant that she wouldn’t pull away, Joel’s arm slid around Y/n’s waist, his hand resting across her lower back. Y/n’s skin felt inflamed, like the building’s walls had fallen and the heat of the night was swallowing her whole. Her cheek fell against Joel’s closing the very last bit of space that laid between them.

No, I don't wanna fall in love…

(This world is only gonna break your heart)

With you…

That was it, it was a done deal. There was nothing left for them to do but let themselves fall. Their hearts hammered in time with one another, their respective anxiety intertwining at the base of their souls and transfiguring. Instead of a storm, raging, crashing, knocking them over, it became a wave, powerful and passionate. Drawing strength from each other, they allowed the full force of their feelings to flood them.

When the night was over, Joel drove Y/n back to her apartment. They’d chatted on the drive over, but the dance had left them both stunned. Where was there to go from there? What were they supposed to say when a whole conversation had been had in each other’s arms?

They walked up the stairs, coming to Y/n’s door and nervously pausing.

“I had a great time,” Y/n said, fiddling with her keys in one hand.

“Me too,” Joel smiled, broader than his usual thin lipped smirk.

The space between them grew tense. Who was supposed to ask who out for a second date? Were they supposed to kiss? What was-

“So…” Joel set aside all his excessive thoughts, “Did I earn a shot at a second date?”

A laugh rippled through Y/n’s body, thankful that he’d been the one to bring it up. Drawing from Joel’s confidence, she closed the space between them and placed a hand on Joel’s shoulder.

“I think your chances are pretty good,” she softly told him.

Joel’s heart throbbed at both Y/n’s touch and her words. His hand found its way to her waist, not wanting to let the closeness go just yet. They only needed to move a few inches, just a few measly inches and then they’d have it all.

Joel’s breath fanned Y/n’s lips as they allowed themselves to be drawn into one another. The delicious space, hanging on the edge of desire and satisfaction, was enough for them. That was how they knew there was something different to what they felt. Just to be close was enough.

“Maybe we should wait,” Y/n whispered in their shared space, pressing her fingers into Joel’s shoulder a little, “Wouldn’t want to rush anything.”

The tip of Joel’s nose rubbed hers, admitting a defeat that didn’t feel like one. “Wouldn’t want you to think you can take advantage of me or somethin’,” Joel smirked, “I have my reputation to think of.”

Y/n’s laugh mingled with Joel’s, her skin tingling as he brushed a stray piece of hair from her face.

“I’ll call you,” Joel assured.

“I hope so,” Y/n smiled before daring to press her lips to his cheek, “Goodnight, Joel.”

“Goodnight,” Joel choked out, the touch of her kiss paralyzing him.

She unlocked her front door and headed in, Joel stood on the welcome mat until the lock clicked. Alone in the concrete hall, he boyishly kicked his foot and grinned.

Y/n rested her forehead against the front door, shaking her head and grinning.

Joel got down to his truck, started it up and fell back in his seat.

Y/n laughed against the door, playing the night back in her head.

Joel smiled and slapped the steering wheel.

They felt weightless.

—————————

2023. Outside Boston.

Grief hung like a storm cloud over the group.

Y/n had left Joel and Ellie to make a lavatory out of nature, and was walking back. They’d camped overnight in a forest, a few miles outside of Boston. Joel had instructed they were leaving as soon as the sun came up.

When she got back to their camp, she found Ellie sitting up against her tree near the creek, Joel’s jacket draped over her legs.

“He’s still not back?” Y/n asked.

“Nope,” Ellie popped her lips.

Y/n rolled her eyes, if Joel was going to boss them around, he needed to comply with his own demands. She set off into the forest, going the same way he had.

The sound of the larger creek welcomed her. She scanned the area, looking for Joel’s tall frame and finding nothing. She slapped her hands against her legs in a shrug, if anything had happened to him, they’d be dead too. Where was-

The scrape of stones caught her ear.

Y/n gazed down to see Joel, hunched over on the river’s bed of rocks. With a fair bit of distance between them, Y/n could see him stacking stones. He was building a cairn.

He was building Tess a grave.

Y/n’s feelings contradicted themselves. Joel’s loss of the woman he cared for felt karmic, in a way, and yet the sight of him, so broken and empty, reminded her that bitterness had no place commingling with loss.

She didn’t disturb his memorial, she simply leaned against a nearby tree. Tess’ last wish hadn’t been selfish, she had begged for protection for Joel. They were, perhaps, the most heartbreaking final words Y/n had ever heard. She’d promised Tess, what else was she supposed to do? She couldn’t let Tess die in a horrific sacrifice thinking that Joel would meet her soon after.

Y/n sighed, letting her head hit the tree. The day was already exhausting her.

She decided to let Joel have a few extra minutes, walking back to their campsite. Ellie was in the exact same position as when she left. All of this trauma was being rehashed for one girl, but Y/n still believed she was worth it.

Footsteps behind her signaled that Joel was back from his solitary service. He didn’t look in either Y/n or Ellie’s direction, only trudging to his backpack and squatting beside it. It had been a near silent walk from Boston, Ellie asking Y/n an occasional question or Joel giving directions. They were all avoiding each other for different reasons.

Joel blamed Ellie.

Y/n blamed Joel.

And Ellie blamed no one, but could sense tension when she saw it.

“You want your jacket back?” Ellie asked Joel, testing the waters.

Joel continued digging through his backpack, responding with a small shake of the head. He still refused to look at her. The only gesture he made was after digging out and taking a bite of food, he threw the remainders to Ellie.

“I’ve never been in the woods,” the girl continued talking, “More bugs than I thought.”

Y/n leaned up against a tree, waiting and watching how the interaction played out.

“Look, I’ve been thinking about-“ Ellie started.

Joel rose to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder, “I don’t want your sorries.”

Ellie sat forward, “I wasn’t gonna say I’m sorry. I was gonna say that I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you or Tess take me. Nobody made you go along with this plan. You needed a truck battery or whatever, and you made a choice. So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.”

Joel’s eyes scanned Ellie before looking to Y/n, who simply raised an eyebrow at him. She was in total agreement. And the truth was, Joel didn’t have a reason to put any of what happened on Ellie. But he wanted someone to be angry with, someone to fling his grief at so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it any longer.

The rational side of him won out. He gave Ellie a small nod, mentally collected himself and picked up his rifle. It was time to hit the road.

Ellie got up and handed Joel his jacket, “How much longer?”

“Five-hour hike,” he answered.

Y/n collected her backpack, tied her jacket around her waist and came to stand with Ellie.

“We can manage that,” the girl shrugged, she was the most confidant out of all three of them.

Joel glanced over at Y/n again, the two of them communicating their indifference wordlessly, before turning on his heel.

Y/n put a hand on Ellie’s head and waited for Joel to be out of earshot, “Attagirl.”

Ellie smiled up at the woman and they fell in step a few feet behind their guide.

Joel got them out of the woods and onto a dirt path, leading their party silently and expecting the same in return. Y/n was perfectly content not to utter a word, but Joel was quickly learning something she already knew; Ellie didn’t do “quiet.”

“You’ve gone this way a lot? No infected?”

“Not often, no,” Joel answered.

“What are you looking out for?” Ellie asked.

“People.”

“Oh,” she rested a beat, “Are Bill and Frank nice?”

“Frank is.”

Y/n stepped forward to walk alongside them, keeping to Ellie’s side. “You haven’t told us anything about them,” she spoke up.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Joel answered.

“I’m entrusting two strangers with our lives,” Y/n scoffed, “There’s a lot to tell.”

“They’re good,” Joel said with finality to his tone.

“Oh, well…” Y/n mumbled under her breath, she was over the whole What-I-Say-Goes front.

Ellie was undeterred by their bickering. “How’d you get that scar on your head?”

Joel sighed, already exasperated and it was barely morning.

“What? Is it something lame?” Ellie inquired excitedly, “Like, you fell down the stairs or something?”

“I didn’t fall down any stairs,” Joel answered.

“Okay, so what then?”

Joel paused before speaking, “Someone shot at me and missed.”

Y/n hated the jolt of concern that shot through her chest. Old habits and all that.

“See, that’s cool,” Ellie insisted, “You shoot back?”

“Yeah,” Joel said.

“You get him?”

“No, I missed too. It happens more often than you think.”

Ellie thought it over, “‘Cause you suck at shooting or, like, in general?”

Joel glanced at her, vaguely insulted, “In general.”

Ellie fell back a step to get a look at Y/n. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Y/n echoed.

“How’d you get this scar?” Ellie poked the white mark on her bare shoulder. She didn’t feel comfortable touching Joel, but she was comfortable with Y/n.

By now, Y/n had scars littered all across her body. Ellie could have pointed to almost any one of them and she would have had to think about where it came from. But the one in the rivet nestled between her scapula and her clavicle was one she could never forget.

“A bullet ricocheted off a wall,” she answered, “Hit me instead.”

“That’s slightly less cool than his,” Ellie commented.

Joel caught himself before he hung back a step to get a look at the mark. It was instinct to worry about her.

“You know, seeing as it’s just the three of us,” Ellie began, “I was thinking I should prob-“

“No,” Joel cut her off, already knowing what she was after.

“Yeah, well, Y/n might feel different,” Ellie said, looking to her only ally.

“She doesn’t,” Y/n answered, smirking slightly at her blind enthusiasm.

They walked a few more feet before coming up on a once-white building.

“Cumberland Farms,” Ellie read the sign.

“Hang back a minute,” Joel instructed them both, though he knew it was useless, “I gotta grab some stuff I stashed.”

“Stashed?” Ellie questioned as she followed, “Why do you have stuff stashed here?”

“You ask a lot of damn questions,” Joel complained.

“Yes,” Ellie smiled, owning every bit of her personality, “I do.”

Joel forced open the door to the old storefront and they entered. It looked just about the same as how he and Tess had left it a few years back.

“So are you gonna answer me or what?” Ellie continued.

Joel relented, “We hide supplies on routes, in case we find ourselves short on gear, which I currently am ‘cause-“

“No way,” Ellie zipped over to the other side of the room, honing in on an old arcade game.

Joel ignored her, Y/n simply smiled to herself.

“You ever play this one?” Ellie asked without really seeking an answer, “Oh, I had a friend who knew everything about this game. There’s this one character named Mileena, who takes off her mask and she has monster teeth-“

While Ellie continued chattering, Joel was pacing the floor, trying to remember where his hiding place had been. Y/n crossed her arms and watched amusedly.

“You forgot where you put your stuff,” Ellie stated.

Joel was quick to defend himself, “No, I’m just zeroing in on it. It’s been a couple of years.”

Ellie and Y/n peered over at one another, sharing a knowing smirk.

“Go see if you can find anything in back,” Y/n instructed, Ellie would have gone even without the prompting, “Practical.”

“Trust me, it’s all been picked over already,” Joel grunted, shaking a wall display.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ellie replied in a sing-song tone, “Is there anything bad in here?”

“Just you,” Joel called out.

“Ah,” Ellie rolled her eyes, “Getting funnier…”

Y/n set down her backpack, deciding to help speed up the process so they could get back on the road. She walked over to a section of floor that Joel hadn’t searched yet and started kicking around.

“I don’t need help,” Joel muttered.

“If we leave it to you and your shitty memory,” Y/n strained as she shoved a shelving unit with her shoulder, “We’ll be here till dark.”

Joel didn’t want to get drawn into an argument, he also couldn’t resist the person starting it. “My memory’s fine.”

“Oh, really?” Y/n waved a hand across the floor, “Point to the treasure.”

Joel’s lips thinned in frustration, mostly with himself for not being able to find the stash before she latched onto it.

“It’s somewhere on this aisle,” he begrudgingly told her.

“This aisle,” she repeated, the two of them going in opposite directions.

After a minute or two, there was a sound from the back room. “You all right back there?” Joel called.

“Yep!” Ellie replied.

“How likely is it that she’s doing something she shouldn’t be?” Joel asked Y/n, who had weeks more experience curbing Ellie.

Y/n jumped in place on a loose piece of the floor, “100%.”

Joel exhaled and continued searching, eventually feeling a slight raise in one of the tiles. He kicked a few old newspapers aside to discover his hiding spot. And better yet, he’d found it before Y/n did, taking away the opportunity for gloating.

He knelt down and flipped open his pocketknife, cutting open the cover and removing it.

Y/n stopped her hunt and came to crouch down next to him, visually sifting through the supplies. There wasn’t much.

It went against Joel’s natural programming to not be concerned when the back room went silent. Ellie had been gone long enough to have picked through everything at least twice. “Ellie?”

No response.

Now Y/n was on edge as well, rising with Joel. She raised her voice a little louder than him, “Ellie?”

They both unholstered their guns, walking in rhythm together towards the back room. Joel stuck a hand out to form a barrier between whatever unknown threat might have been lurking and Y/n. She annoyedly shoved it away and aimed her gun at the doorway.

They unclenched when Ellie walked out, touting a box of tampons. “Picked over, my ass,” she commented.

Y/n and Joel returned to the stash, Joel unloading his assault rifle and Y/n picking through a tin of first aid supplies.

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked Joel.

“There’s not much ammo out there for this thing,” he replied, bringing the lid back down over the supplies, “Makes it mostly useless.”

Ellie saw an opportunity, “Well, if you’re just gonna leave it there…”

Joel stood to his feet and made direct eye contact, “No.”

Y/n stood up, slung her backpack over her shoulder and lightly pushed Ellie ahead of her. Tess was no longer there to keep occupy Joel and she wanted to put as much space between the two of them as possible.

They were on the dirt road for another hour or two, time didn’t seem to matter in the middle of nowhere. Ellie barely complained, content to take in all that nature had left to offer. At some point, Y/n and Joel had fallen in step with one another. Even sworn enemies would have cracked under pressure and started hurling insults at one another. Their ability to stay silent with one another was unmatched.

“So,” Ellie eventually killed the quiet, “Are you ever going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Y/n replied.

“Why you two broke up.”

Joel scrunched his eyes shut, the darkness of his lids a more preferable place to be.

Y/n took the hit and answered, “We never said we dated.”

“You didn’t have to. You knew each other in Texas but you don’t talk,” Ellie began to list off her reasons, “And when you do talk, it’s only to fight.”

“Friends fight too,” Y/n suggested.

Ellie scoffed, “Not like you two.”

There was passion that bled through Joel and Y/n’s arguments that was only born from love. It was one thing they’d never be able to change.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Ellie continued, “I’ll just know that I’m right.”

Joel stopped short, putting a hand up to Ellie and trying to stay calm. “You do not need to say every fuckin’ thing that pops into your head,” he said, driving certain syllables harder than others.

Ellie was unfazed by him, turning her gaze to Y/n. “Was he always this grumpy?”

Y/n sighed, her time in Austin was a piece of her past she didn’t want anyone having. The obviousness of her and Joel’s fractured connection bothered her, it made it that much harder to sever it entirely. She picked up the pace again, getting ahead of Joel and Ellie.

Joel’s eyes followed her, something inside of him twinging against his will. He spared a glance at Ellie and continued on the path.

“Yeah,” Ellie smiled to herself, “They dated.”

They walked a little further before Ellie got distracted by something in a field. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed.

Up on a hilltop lay the rusted remains of a plane crash. The three of them stopped, it was getting harder for Joel and Y/n to remember a world where things like airplanes had existed.

“You fly in one of those?” Ellie asked,

“A few times, sure,” Joel answered.

“Yeah,” Y/n said.

Ellie’s excited eyes scanned the wreck, “So lucky.”

“Didn’t feel like it at the time,” Joel recalled, “Get shoved into a middle seat, pay twelve bucks for a sandwich…”

“Or hit turbulence,” Y/n remembered.

“You got to go up in the sky,” Ellie stated, her voice filled with wonder. Another simple pleasure stolen from her…

Joel had always been more of a realist than Y/n, who wanted Ellie to hold on to whatever pieces of happiness she could. “Yeah, well, so did they,” he added, killing the levity of the moment.

“Grim…” Ellie commented as they continued walking. “So everything came crashing down in one day?”

“Pretty much,” Joel answered, giving Y/n space to interject. She’d gone silent again.

“How?” Ellie asked, “I mean, no one was infected with Cordyceps, everybody’s fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then all at once? How did it even start? If you have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? Was it a monkey? I bet it was a monkey.”

Y/n almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Almost.

“It wasn’t a monkey,” Joel answered, “I thought you went to school.”

“FEDRA school,” Ellie replied quickly, “They don’t teach us how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.”

Joel sighed, he couldn’t fault her for wanting to know how her world was destroyed before she’d even gotten there.

“No one knows for sure, but, best guess,” he began, “Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, all across the world. Bread, cereal…”

Joel and Y/n didn’t have to look at one another to know they were having the same thought.

“Pancake mix,” Joel continued, “You eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time, Thursday. People bought it, ate some Thrusday night or Friday morning. Day goes on…they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse,” Joel paused, a flash of blood coming to his mind, “Then they started bitin’.”

Y/n shut her eyes, as if it was all playing out in front of her again.

“Friday night,” Joel was able to push out, “September 26th, 2003. And by Monday, everything was gone.”

Y/n didn’t know whether to scream or stay quiet. Her entire world had come crashing down in a span of 72 hours.

“It makes more sense than monkeys,” Ellie said, then looked at Joel, “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he replied. Joel still wasn’t sure what to do with her, but he was trying. He only had to try for a few more hours, anyway.

Y/n kept her eyes down as she walked, only stopping when Ellie and Joel fell out of step. Joel had his arm stretched over Ellie’s chest to keep her in place.

“What now?” Y/n asked, nearing her breaking point with patience.

“We’ll cut across the woods here,” Joel directed.

“Isn’t the road easier?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah, it’s just,” Joel took a breath, looking ahead to Y/n, “There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see.”

Y/n chortled, she couldn’t take any more of his mood swings. One minute he didn’t care, the next he was watching out for their sensitive eyes?

“Well, now I have to see,” Ellie sang, walking ahead to join Y/n.

“I don’t want you to,” Joel pushed.

“Newsflash, Joel,” Y/n announced, “It’s the fucking apocalypse. We’ve all seen things we don’t want to see.”

Joel paced after them, chasing Ellie more than his ex, “I’m not kidding. Ellie!”

“Can it hurt us?” Ellie asked as Y/n fell behind her.

“No,” Joel answered truthfully.

She spun around to face him as she strolled, “You’re too honest, man, Should’ve said axe murderer.”

While Ellie walked ahead, Joel sped up to match Y/n’s pace. “I’m serious, she shouldn’t see it.”

“You know what,” Y/n didn’t break stride, “I’m sure our delicate little sensibilities can handle whatever it is.”

Anger is intoxicating, but it can also be all-encompassing. It can numb all other senses, blinding all other emotions until the red is staining every part of someone’s perspective. Y/n’s rage with Joel was deceiving her into thinking everything that came out of his mouth was either an insult or an overreaction. Joel knew that the second she found what he was trying to shield her and Ellie from, she’d regret it instantly. But it was futile to fight her.

“Uh, whatever it was,” Ellie called from the front of the group, “Think it’s gone.”

Y/n felt sure of herself as she trudged on, until the details of Ellie’s expression came into view and she followed the girl’s eyes. There in a ditch, lay skeletal remains. If you reconstructed them, they probably made up about a dozen people.

“About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers…” Joel started to explain to Ellie, “Went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were…if there was room…if there wasn’t…”

“These people weren’t sick?” Ellie inquired.

“No,” Joel replied, “Probably not.”

“Why kill them?” Ellie continued, “Why not just leave ‘em be?”

“It was their fucked up way of trying to contain the infection,” Y/n spoke up, trying to hide her trembling breath. It wasn’t the first open grave she’d seen, this was one of the easier ones to stomach. This was all bones.

Y/n turned on her heel, eager to get as far away from the hellish memories as she could.

————————————

Eventually, they made it to where Joel told them Bill and Frank lived. It was a small chunk of a town completely gated by a tall fence.

“Stay here,” Joel instructed Y/n and Ellie before punching in the entry code on the gate’s keypad. He let them go through first, it was the only place safe enough to do so.

Y/n’s breath caught in her chest, it was the first time she’d seen an actual town in…she’d lost count of the years. The white picket fences, the boutique shops, the houses. Actual houses. It nearly brought tears to her eyes, it reminded her so much of Austin.

The three of them walked to Bill and Frank’s house, the nicest looking one on the block. Joel took notice, however, that the flowers decorating the front porch were dead. Scorched by the sun. Bill would never let that happen.

He opened the front door, taking cautious steps into the entryway. Y/n and Ellie followed close behind.

“What the fuck,” Ellie elongated, it was probably her first time inside an actual house.

“Bill?” Joel called out. No answer. “Frank?” Nothing.

Shit.

“You stay there,” Joel directed Ellie, not looking Y/n’s way since she was going to do what she wanted anyway, “Ya hear anything, you see anything…yell.”

Joel and Y/n didn’t make it more than one step before Ellie spoke up, “What if they’re gone?”

No. Joel couldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to grieve over one more person.

Y/n set off down the hallway, keeping her pistol drawn at her side. Joel had gone through the kitchen, but the two rooms were connected. They made it to the bedroom door at the same time, Joel knocking and jiggling the knob. Nothing.

“Would they leave?” Y/n asked.

“No,” Joel shook his head.

The back porch door shutting got their attention.

“Ellie?” Y/n called, getting nothing in return. She set off back to the dining room where they’d left her, Joel just a step behind.

She was sitting at the table holding a piece of paper. Her expression was undeterminable, like she was between emotions and deciding which one to land on.

“It’s from Bill,” she finally told them.

Y/n sighed, holstering her gun, taking off her backpack and settling into a chair between Joel and Ellie. Joel put away his weapon too, neither of them needed to pretend there was any hope.

Ellie scanned the envelope the letter had come from, “‘To whomever…but probably Joel,’” she tossed it back onto the table, “I figured I fell under “whomever.” It came with this.”

She slid a single car key across the table.

Joel shrugged his backpack off next to Y/n’s, but wouldn’t sit. “So they’re dead?”

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie hummed.

Joel turned away, the very little emotion he let himself feel coming to the surface.

“You-you wanna?” Ellie offered.

He shook his head, “Go ahead. You do it.”

Y/n leaned against her knees, holding her hands to her lips, bracing herself.

“August 29th, 2023,” Ellie began to read, “If you find this…please do not come into the bedroom. We left a window open so the house wouldn’t smell, but it will probably be a sight. I’m guessing you found this, Joel, because anyone else would’ve been electrocuted or blown up by one of my traps. Hehehehehehe-“

Ellie looked up in confusion, Y/n gave a small nod for her to continue.

“Take anything you need,” she kept going, “The bunker code is the gate code but in reverse. Anyway…I never liked you, but still, it’s like we’re friends, almost…And I respect you. So, I’m gonna tell you something because you’re probably the only person who will understand. I used to hate the world and I was happy when everyone died. But I was wrong, because there was one person worth saving. That’s what I did. I saved him. Then I protected him. That’s why men like you and me are here. We have a job to do, and God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way. I leave you all of my weapons and equipment. Use them to keep-“

Ellie sucked her bottom lip, not knowing how to proceed. None of them had to ask what the next two words were.

Joel stepped forward robotically and took the letter, reading the rest over silently. Tess’ name struck a blow to his body, he wanted to curl in on himself.

“Stay here,” he mumbled, striding towards the front door with barely contained hurry.

Y/n shut her eyes, keeping her hands in a praying position. It was the first time in twenty years she couldn’t tap into the anger that lived inside her. She felt pure sorrow that Joel had to lose someone else he loved, regardless of whether he’d ever admit to loving Tess.

Outside, Joel took deep breaths that at one time would have been described as cleansing. But he felt no better when he inhaled than he had before. Bill’s letter weren’t just his last wishes, it was a call to action. He couldn’t have known the situation Joel was in when he wrote it, but he supernaturally addressed every part of it. He lifted up a silent apology to Tess, for not being able to save her.

Joel crumpled the letter in his palms and let it drop to the grass. He held up the key Bill had left him, forcing himself to move to the garage doors and open them.

Y/n and Ellie sat up straighter upon hearing the noise. “Stay here,” Y/n echoed Joel, rising up and heading out to see what he was doing.

She walked around to the open garage doors to see Joel hunched over the front of a truck. The hood was open and he was investigating its internal organs. Y/n had barely caught a glance at the empty spot where the battery should have been before Joel slammed it shut. There went that happy thought…

Joel’s eye caught the refrigerator nearby, a couple cans of oil and other auto supplies sitting on top of it. Bill had been a survivalist, it was his nature to prepare for every possible outcome. He crossed the space and opened the fridge, spotting the materials needed to construct a car battery from scratch

He smirked, maybe they had been friends…

Y/n joined him at the door, she was no mechanic but the men throughout her life, Joel and Tommy included, had taught her enough about car repair to know they were battery parts. A spark of hope lit inside her.

It dwindled in both her and Joel when the reality of what it meant hit them.

Y/n suddenly felt too close to him, she moved away and crossed her arms, going to stand on the furthest side of the truck. Joel didn’t move until she stopped, coming to stand on the other side of the vehicle. They wanted a proper barricade between them.

Y/n had made a promise to Tess that she would protect both Ellie and Joel. In the moment, it had seemed like the only honorable thing to do. Now, staring down the task itself, she wanted to admit her selfishness and run. Run back to the QZ, back to the Fireflies, back to the only semblance of safety she had. And with every turn she made in her mind, Ellie was waiting for her. Ellie was at the center of this all. She was the job. Everything else came second.

“If we do this,” Y/n started, her words slowly and cautiously calculated, “You are going to have to start treating me like an equal. I am not some delicate flower that you need to protect and I’m not some child in need of protection. We’ve already got one of those. I live in the same world you do. I didn’t hesitate to kill that Clicker,” she pointed behind them as if the monster’s carcass was present, “And I won’t hesitate going forward.”

Joel looked up at her out his eyebrows, “Can you blame me, last time I knew you?”

“We don’t need to keep bringing us up,” Y/n shook her head, a joyless smile on her face, “We are completely different people. Matter of fact, think of us as strangers. We only know each other from this point forward.”

Joel thought it over a second, accepting the truth of it. “Okay,” he said, “But you have to trust me that I know the best way to get to Wyoming-“

“I don’t trust you,” Y/n retorted.

“I don’t trust you either,” he echoed, bitterness rising to both their surfaces.

Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, if this was going to work, they needed to put away all of their past. Not just the good parts.

“We have to put this on ice,” she said, “What matters…is her. That is all that matters. Not us, not what happened…her.”

Joel’s thumb twitched against the hood of the truck. There were many questions he’d been wanting to ask Y/n, but there was one that was non-negotiable if he was going to take on this task with her

“Do you actually believe that she’s the answer to this?”

Y/n’s face softened, only slightly, but enough for Joel to see the gleam hope in her eyes. “I do,” she replied, earnestly.

Joel breathed a heavy sigh, looking down at the truck. He glanced back up at Y/n, scanning her up and down as if to take full stock of the woman she was now. “Okay.”

Y/n nodded, her body alight with apprehension. “Okay.”

A ceasefire had been called.

“I’ll start on the battery,” Joel announced, eager to get away from the conversation as quick as he could, “Can you do a once over on this thing?”

“Yeah,” she answered, forcing past the hurdle that was doing something Joel asked of her.

They worked in silence, Y/n checking that the car was in working condition and Joel constructing their battery. It was the first time they’d been able to tolerate each other’s presence in the last two days.

After a half hour, when Y/n was long past done, Joel stepped back and examined his work. “It’s gotta charge for a while,” he announced, “But it’ll work.”

“Okay,” Y/n sighed, glancing over at him before heading back out the garage. Joel was close behind.

They came back into the house, finding Ellie waiting for them at the table still.

“Show me your arm,” Joel ordered, he needed to be 100% certain that she was safe to transport.

Ellie stood and rolled up her sleeve, the second bite still had blood caked around it, but it was clearly healing. They had no reason to doubt it would continue that way.

“I just finished makin’ a truck battery,” Joel said, “It’s charging right now.”

“Okay,” Ellie replied, her face showing a hint of hope.

“And I have a brother in Wyoming,” Joel continued, “He’s in some kinda trouble, and I’m heading out there to find him. He used to be a Firefly. And my guess is he knows where some of ‘em are out there. Maybe they can get you two to wherever this lab is.”

Ellie’s eyes bounced between Y/n and Joel, “All right. Uh,” she began to fiddle with her hand, “Listen, about Tess-“

Joel held up a hand, he took a second to collect himself before speaking. “If I’m takin’ you with me, there’s some rules you gotta follow. Rule one, you don’t bring up Tess. Ever. Matter of fact, we can just keep our histories to ourselves.”

Y/n made a mental note of where Joel was emotionally.

“Rule two, you don’t tell anyone about your…condition,” Joel focused his eyes on Ellie, trying to drive the point home, “They see that bite mark, they won’t think it through. They’ll just shoot you. Rule three,” he pointed between him and Y/n, “You do what we say, when we say it. We clear?”

“Yes,” Ellie answered.

“Repeat it,” Joel demanded.

Ellie took a breath, “What you say goes,” she looked between the two adults once more, “Are you two gonna be able to get along?”

Joel glanced over his shoulder at Y/n, who was leaned up against the door frame. She had her hands tucked behind her as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. They communicated their truce with their eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” Y/n said to Ellie, maybe saying it would make it so…

Joel sighed, it felt like he was signing on a metaphorical dotted line. “Okay,” he finally said.

The three of them stood in the dining room, all with their own separate reservations but with no choice in the matter. They needed each other, even if no one dared to admit it.

“So what now?” Ellie broke the silence.

“We grab what we can,” Joel responded, “Let’s check the bunker first.”

He brushed past Y/n, who followed with Ellie in tow, and located the hidden entrance to Bill’s bunker. Joel climbed down the ladder first into the pitch black room. Flipping on the lights revealed walls of canned goods, guns, supplies, various tools and first aid kits. In the middle lay a desk setup with a laptop playing music and monitor screens showing footage of outside the house.

“Ho-ly shit,” Ellie said for both her and Y/n, “This guy was a genius.”

“Little bit,” Y/n added, scanning the walls, “Back then, everyone called people like him crazy. I’m guessing he was okay with it.”

Joel went to work at the computer, switching off the song.

“Why was the music on?” Ellie asked.

“If he didn’t reset the countdown every few weeks,” Joel explained, “This playlist would run over the radio.”

Ellie glanced over the screen, assured now of her theory from the day before about Joel’s radio codes. “‘80s.”

Joel didn’t really care anymore, “Grab some cans from over there. Nothin’ dented or swollen.”

Ellie wasn’t so easily distracted, she was still gazing at the guns. “Dude,” she started to draft another pitch.

“No,” he replied without even looking up at her.

“There’s a whole wall of them,” she declared, as if that made a difference.

Joel shot her a glare, signaling there was no discussion to be had. Searching Y/n out again and receiving a frown in response, Ellie backed off and went to collect the canned goods.

Y/n traced her fingers across the wall of guns. She doubted her pistol was going to get them very far. It had taken an assault rifle and an axe just to kill the Clicker that had attacked them.

She loathed to ask Joel for help, but she was good at shooting, not specs. “Which one takes the most basic ammo?”

Joel peered up from the monitor screens, the sight of her standing amongst so many weapons was still a little shocking. “That beige and black one,” he nodded in her direction, “Standard shotgun.”

Y/n nodded once in awkward thanks and removed the gun from the wall, testing the weight and feel of it. She crossed the room to one of Bill’s work tables and took a box of bullets, stuffing it in her jacket pocket.

“I’m gonna start upstairs,” she announced, strapping the shotgun over her back and climbing up the ladder.

The three of them worked around the house, collecting any and all supplies they could possibly need. Ellie found toilet paper, Y/n found some unopened dry goods, Joel found clothes for them. It was strange to think that once upon a time, desires had felt like essentials. A new TV, concert tickets, expensive wine…Y/n felt like she was seeing heaven when Joel pulled out a box of women’s t-shirts.

Joel monitored the battery closely, it wasn’t charging as fast as he wanted it to. “Needs another hour,” he told them.

“They have hot water!” Ellie exclaimed, soaking her hand under the garage’s running faucet, “I’m takin’ a shower. And then you’re showering, because seriously,” she turned to Joel and scowled as he headed back to the house.

Joel stopped what he was doing, unsure of how to respond. “I smell that bad?”

Y/n was sorting through some shelves, collecting a few tools they could take with them for the truck. “I’m not even answering that,” she replied.

Joel took what he could from her answer. “You take the next one,” he offered, trying to put his money where he mouth was and bench their grudge.

“Should I be offended?” Y/n fired back, raising one eyebrow. “Thank you,” she finally said.

Joel gave a nod in reply before getting back to work.

Y/n eventually headed inside to wait for Ellie to be done. The girl emerged with wet hair in fresh clothes.

“That felt so good,” she groaned in happiness as she passed Y/n in the hall.

“I bet,” Y/n smiled, “There extra towels in there?”

“Yep,” Ellie called, she was already halfway down the stairs, passing Joel as she descended.

If Y/n and Joel had dodged any awkwardness in the past 48 hours, it had boomeranged back around and slammed into them. They stood in the hall, keeping three feet of space between them and struggled for words.

“I’ll be quick,” Y/n said finally, heading into the bedroom that connected to the bathroom.

“Sure,” Joel replied, fiddling with his fist at his side.

Showers were one thing that no one ever took for granted anymore. Water supply in the QZ wasn’t consistent, one day you could have warm water and the next it’d be ice cold. You couldn’t count on anything to stay the same. So when Y/n had complete control of the temperature and made it burning hot, she felt like she could cry from pure joy.

Joel stood outside the bedroom door, leaned up against the wall. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. Sweet images of early mornings with Y/n stormed past his defenses, flooding his brain. How she looked with wet hair, the smell of her skin after using some soap he couldn’t remember the name of…he tried to ignore the fact that it was all on the other side of the door.

Y/n emerged from the shower a few minutes later, having gotten all the dirt out of her hair and nails, and wrapped a threadbare towel around her torso. She quickly dried off and changed into the new clothes Joel had found them. It was a plain t-shirt, a men’s button up to go over it and a plain pair of jeans. Gone were the days of dressing up because you felt like it. It was a stupid thing to miss, but Y/n felt the loss regardless.

Dressed, she opened the bathroom door. The sound signaled that Joel could come in.

He came around the corner, having just put his memories to bed when he saw her. Pruny, barefaced and natural…the way he’d always loved her.

“All yours,” Y/n muttered, unable to break the eye contact they held.

Joel cleared his throat and his mind, “Thanks.”

“I’m just gonna be here,” Y/n gestured to the dresser and the attached mirror, “Try and get a comb through my hair.”

“Okay,” Joel nodded.

He walked past her, their shoulders brushing as he did, and closed the bathroom door behind him. It was the first time they’d touched in twenty years.

Now anger was rarely ever born from just anger. No one hated someone just to hate them. There was always something deeper beneath it. More often than not, anger found a companion in heartbreak. They’d collide, morphing together to make something so complicated, you couldn’t tell one apart from the other.

Y/n reached for a spare comb, her trembling hands causing her hair to catch in the teeth. Harboring the anger had been effortless, it was a fire that stoked itself. It was the pain, the flame that started the blaze, that was causing her to feel like she was burning, from the inside out.

The tears welled in her eyes, she refused to let them fall until her reflection was nothing but a blur. She dropped the comb on the dresser, and fell back onto the bed. It could no longer be contained.

Joel had broken her, destroyed her. The loss of him was a hurt that had refused to fade with time. She could feel her heart splitting back open just being around him, the same way it had the day that they’d parted. She wanted to scream, to cry, to break the way she had after he’d left. With the simple act of calling a truce and playing nice, she had reopened the wound she had spent twenty years trying to heal with her unbridled bitterness. She was bleeding out.

On the other side of the door, Joel was propped up against the shower with one hand. Rivulets of the stream dripped down his hair and face. He stared down at the drain, his emotions mixing and swirling much like the water at his feet. Joel had never considered himself particularly favored by the world. There were only two times when he’d felt like there was some higher power bestowing happiness upon his unworthy head.

The first was when Sarah was born, when he got to hold her for the first time.

The second was when Y/n entered his life.

Now her mere presence felt like a punishment. A reminder of what he’d done to her, a child’s taunt of a love he could never go back to. Knowing she was on the other side of the wall caused every muscle in his body to tense. Joel was still himself, regardless of what the pandemic had turned him into. The guilt he’d long tried to drown was rising to the surface, threatening to rebel and throw him underwater. Mixed with the fresh loss of Tess, he was overwhelmed. If he didn’t keep repeating the same three things to himself, she lied, she’s a liar, she’ll lie again, he would collapse entirely.

Y/n sniffled, rubbing her fingers under her eyes in a desperate attempt to stop her tears. She was so tired of crying over Joel. She wished for blind hatred, not the memory of his smile. Bitter regret, not the ghost of his lips. She couldn’t take another time of looking into his eyes and seeing the man she had loved with her whole heart.

Had they known that with a mere twelve feet of space and one shoddy door between them, it still wouldn’t have changed anything. Their chapter was over.

Needing distance, Y/n got off the bed and combed her hair as she walked down the stairs. She found Ellie seated in the front room at the piano.

Ellie turned to her and smiled, “Well, that’s an improvement.”

Y/n bristled, “Be nice to me. I am keeping you alive, after all.”

Ellie hummed as if that was up for debate and turned back to the piano, “You ever learn to play one of these?”

“A little,” Y/n replied, coming to join her, “I played as a kid, not as much when I was an adult.”

“You wanna play something?” Ellie suggested, it didn’t feel like it was for Y/n’s benefit so much as her own.

Y/n motioned for Ellie to make room and settled in next to the girl. It had been over twenty years since she’d felt ivory beneath her fingers, and this one was a beautiful model. She wracked her brain for songs where all the chords were still intact.

She placed her hands accordingly, pressing down on the first keys.

“Slow down, you crazy child,” she softly sang, “You’re so ambitious for a juvenile. But then if you’re so smart, tell me, why are you still so afraid?”

“You can fucking sing?” Ellie cried excitedly.

“Where's the fire, what's the hurry about,” Y/n kept going, “You'd better cool it off before you burn it out. You've got so much to do and only so many hours in a day.”

Ellie swayed a little, taking in the curiosity of the person she hardly knew, yet liked better than anyone. She couldn’t help herself from sneaking a finger onto a key and quickly pressing down.

“Don’t mess me up,” Y/n laughed as she continued to play, “But you know that when the truth is told, that you can get what you want, or you can just get old.”

Joel had just pushed his wet hair back and buttoned up his shirt he’d found. Renewed by the hot water, he grabbed the stick of deodorant he’d used and left the bathroom. The music and it’s sweet accompaniment drifted through the bedroom door, hitting Joel and rendering him breathless for a moment. All he could feel was her, wrapping her arms around him with each word.

Ellie continued to hit random keys at inopportune times, Y/n’s knocked her shoulder against hers.

“You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through,” Y/n crooned, her grin causing her to enunciate differently.

Joel quietly made his way down the stairs, feeling his body unnaturally relax with each note Y/n sang. Her voice hadn’t changed at all.

“When will you realize,” Y/n did a little flourish with the keys, leaving Ellie no room to mess with the melody, “Vienna waits for you.”

When she removed her hands, Ellie clapped and whooped. The mood had been so dark since the day of the shootout, it felt like a single ray of light was shining down on them.

Joel watched her sing the last line from the hall, it was like his memories had come to life right in front of him. How hard was it to bury the past when it was everywhere you looked?

Ellie turned around and saw Joel, “Well, don’t you look pretty.”

Y/n rotated on the bench and faced Joel. It was unfair that he seemed to be getting more handsome with age. With his hair slicked back and his plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows, it stirred up a singular butterfly in her stomach. She was quick to put it down.

Joel’s eyes flashed to Y/n before catching himself and looking back to Ellie, “Shut up.”

He tossed her the deodorant. “Nice,” she commented, swiping it on before handing it to Y/n. “Hey,” she trailed after Joel, “Did you know Y/n can sing?”

Y/n snorted as she used the antiperspirant. Ellie was the only thing keeping her spirits up on the trip. Everything else hurt, but the young girl’s joy acted as a balm.

Joel went back out to the garage to confirm the battery was charged up. He installed it quickly and headed back into the house. “We’re good to go,” he announced, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Ellie and Y/n grabbed their jackets and bags, the three of them filed out of the house in hopeful silence. They shoved their things in the back seat of the truck, leaving one side clutter-free.

“Why don’t you take the front?” Y/n suggested to Ellie, already climbing in the back.

Ellie jumped into the passenger side, a toothy grin spread across her face as she started fiddling with the foldout mirror.

“It’s your first time in a car?” Joel asked from beside her, not the slightest bit amused.

“It’s like a spaceship,” Ellie said wondrously.

“No, it’s like a shit piece of Chevy S10,” Joel grumbled, “But it’ll get us there…I think. Seatbelt.”

Ellie glanced up from playing with the radio dials, confused.

Undeniably in sync with each other, Y/n reached through the gap between Ellie’s seat and the window as Joel reached over the girl and pulled the belt over her body. “Seatbelt,” Joel repeated.

Ellie took it from him and clicked it into place, “So cool…”

Y/n watched from over their shoulders. It wasn’t lost on her how it had taken no time for Joel to start acting like a parent again.

Joel started up the car as Ellie dug through the glove compartment. She held something up to Joel that Y/n couldn’t see.

“Put it back…” Joel directed, “Ellie…”

Ellie ignored him, popping in the cassette tape and hitting play. Soft guitar rang through the truck’s speaker system. Ellie was about to skip the song when Joel and Y/n piped up at the same time.

“No, no, wait-“

“No, leave it.”

Their words collided, surprising them both. It was the first thing they’d agreed on.

“This is good,” Joel said as he made a turn, “This is Linda Ronstadt. Do you know who Linda Ronstadt is?”

“You know I don’t know who Linda Ronstadt is,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

Y/n smirked from the back seat before the nostalgia washed over her again. The song had been a favorite of hers for decades, but there was one night in particular she distinctly remembered playing it on.

Joel drove down the path that led to the gate, letting the song fill the cracks of him left by all the beauty disappearing from the world. There was still a musician living inside him. “Oh, man…” he muttered.

In the rear view mirror, Y/n and Joel’s eyes flickered to one another. The second their gazes connected, they diverted them back to the road. In their minds, they were back in Y/n’s shitty apartment, leaving for their first date.

“Eh,” Ellie remarked, “It’s better than nothing.”

Y/n couldn’t contain the chuckle that bubbled from her lips, nor could Joel hide his flash of a smile. She was going to make them both feel ancient before their journey was over.

Joel pressed the gate code on the remote Bill had left in the garage, the gate opening for them like the parting of the Red Sea. Even he, in all his jadedness, felt some sort of hope.

Y/n settled against the window, taking one last look at the town Bill and Frank had kept up over the years. Their legacy was one not of sadness, but of renewal. They had supplied her, Joel and Ellie with the resources to go forward with their journey. They were helping them in their mission to change the world. It was a kindness she’d never get to thank them for, but she’d certainly never forget.

They drove into the sunset, golden hour embracing them and welcoming them onto the open road. Maybe, just maybe, this was the turning point for them…

————

A/N: Just an FYI, we hit the 50 mentions limit so the taglist will be split between the post and the comments :)

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