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#I AM SCREAMING THAT SCENE DID NOT HAVE TO BE THAT SAD
glamiers · 6 months
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A redraw of that one scene, makes me tear up every time
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twinsarekeepers · 4 months
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“This isn’t the Arch, seaweed brain. You’re not pushing me into the stairwell again.”
First of all, LINE DELIVERY?? Leah Sava Jeffries is an ACTRESS because ‘seaweed brain’ is actually so corny and it would simply feel like fan-service if they included it earlier or in another context but this was so natural and I was so swept up by all the other amazing things happening that I was excited about it but also keyed into the rest of the scene.
But the way this perfectly displays her fatal flaw. She will not let this boy trick her again (spoiler: he does). She was caught off guard at the Arch because she wasn’t familiar with his game but now she’s ready. She WILL die for him and that is final.
“Yes, I am.”
This was CRAZY?? Percy Jackson #1 mentally unstable man because how is he determined to win every ‘sacrifice myself’ off with her? And he says it to her face too. He does not care for the games anymore, he’s fully telling her that he needs her to live.
“I’m not going to let you this time. It doesn’t work that way!”
This made me so incredibly sad. Annabeth is still thinking in transactions. She’s thinking about how he made a sacrifice in the Arch so it’s her turn now. This is how relationships work. This is how every relationship she’s had works. She literally can’t comprehend how he doesn’t see it that way. How he could be selfless enough to sacrifice himself for her TWICE. How he could care about her enough to believe she deserves it even after she was the reason they were in the Arch in the first place (my baby my baby say it with me now you’re my baby).
“It’s why you’re here!”
“Excuse me?”
This was so soft like I just *screaming crying gif*. The last time she said ‘excuse me’ to him she was pissed off about him bringing up Athena but now she’s just confused and sad. Like, she trying to figure out what he means by this. Does he think she’s so heartless and robotic that she’d just let him die for her own gain?
I also love how they don’t have her say ‘what?’ because it just adds this extra layer of how Annabeth has trained herself to be more mature in everything she does, even her language, because she believes that if she’s not perfect, she’s not worthy of love and affection and maybe even existing (literally sobbing wtf).
“When I was choosing my team, I told Chiron I needed someone who wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice me if the quest required it. He agreed. That was you.”
I was confused at first about this because I thought Annabeth knew Percy thought this about her until I went back and watched the choosing ceremony again. He’s definitely keeping his voice lower as he speaks to Chiron and both Chiron and him are raising their voice as they address the other campers so makes sense that she wouldn’t have heard him.
But also, this just adds so much to literally everything. Because, in the beginning, Percy didn’t think him and Annabeth would become friends. He genuinely did think that she would sacrifice him if she had to and he thought he’d be able to curb it. He thought he’d be able to fight Annabeth if it came to it because she might choose the quest over his mom and he couldn’t allow that.
But now here he is, after getting to know her, and seeing her vulnerability and bravery and strength and courage and wisdom and passion and everything that makes her so beautiful and wonderful and amazing and his friend. She’s his friend and she’d never betray him. She’d never sacrifice him. She’d rather sacrifice herself before she ever did anything to harm him.
And he’s apologizing to her. Listen to the way Walker says the last line (again, THE ACTING). It’s literally a confession because he feels so bad that he ever believed that about her. And now he’s making her do it. He’s making her do this thing that he once thought she’d have done without hesitation. He’s thinking about the Fates cutting that string and he’s thinking about his own words to Chiron and how Chiron agreed and he’s thinking about how Annabeth said that prophecies aren’t always clear and he fully believes that he’s figured it out. This is fate. Annabeth would sacrifice him and complete the prophecy. She’ll be the friend that betrays him but not because she wanted to and he will fail to save what matters most, his own life.
This entire exchange was very insane. It’s my Roman Empire. I can’t stop thinking about it because it shows their motivations and their viewpoints and their internal struggles so so so well like I can’t even … I’m having a malfunction.
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holdmytesseract · 7 months
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Illusions
°☆• Dream or Nightmare? (Part 2) •☆°
Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader
Summary: When the TVA throws Loki on a journey through his past and future, it turns out to be a cruel rollercoaster ride for the god...
Warnings: angst & sadness, tiny bit fluff, a smol suggestive scene, angst, bit of pregnancy stuff, oh and did I mention angst?
Let me know if I forgot something!
Word Count: 4,1k
a/n: Well... I listened to music - those two songs to be exactly...
... and they inspired me to write this. I am already apologising, because... It's quite sad and angsty. 👀 Or to say it in Mika's words: 'This is the hardest story that I've ever told' - perhaps.
I hope y'all like it! 💚
Tagging: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @chennqingg @jennyggggrrr @theaudacitytowrite @alexakeyloveloki @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @valencia-rou @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @glitchquake @goblingirlsarah @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins (Continuing in the comments!)
Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist
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The grip of the Minutemen tightened painfully around Loki's arms, as the god tried to break free from their grasp - in vain. He didn't stand a chance against four of them; dragging him down one of the seemingly endless corridors of the TVA.
"Where are they taking me?!" Loki screamed over his shoulder, trying to reach the man in the brown suit with grey-blonde hair and moustache. "Mobius, where are you taking me!" The god received no answer. Not even as the Minutemen hauled him into a big room. It looked familiar, yet different.
While Loki still struggled against the men's harsh grip, he saw Mobius tapping away on his TemPad - until a well known orange 'door' opened. The TVA agent nodded at the Minutemen, who started to move once more - straight towards the portal. "Mobius! Please!" Again, no answer; causing Loki's patience to wear thin. "I demand to know what this is!"
Shortly before the god's body could touch the orange barrier, they stopped - and Mobius appeared in Loki's field of view. "That happens when you break a friend's trust, Loki," he said; stepping closer. His face was stern, but his eyes were filled with a mixture of disappointment and hurt. "I don't want to do this, but you leave me no other choice."
With those words and a last gaze at the 'variant', Mobius turned around and walked away. Loki's jaw dropped. "Mobius! Mobius! Wait! You know the truth! Nothing here is real! You are a mere puppet on a string and you know it! Please!" Loki's plead fell on deaf ears. Again. And before he could say another word, the Minutemen pushed him through the portal.
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Loki stumbled; the force of the unmerciful shove took him down. He landed on his knees - already waiting for the incoming pain of the impact; but there was none. At least no strong pain. He had landed rather softly. Nevertheless, slipped a soft groan past the god's lips as he straightened his back; raven curls whipping through the air. Loki looked around; scanning his surroundings - eyes widened instantly.
Underneath his knees was green grass. The air smelt deliciously of a trillion different flowers. A soft breeze rustled the trees nearby, and the moon stood high in the night sky; shining down on him and illuminating the world around him - just like the countless fireflies. He didn't even have to look further to know where he was...
Home.
He was in Asgard, and that was clearly his mother's garden. Why would Mobius send me here? Loki frowned; was confused. Slowly, he got up; brought himself back on his feet. His rather ragged and worn out TVA suit was looking even dirtier now; the green stains of the grass on his knees adding to the demolition.
Everything was quiet. Perhaps too quiet. But that was the last thing Loki cared about, honestly... "Mobius!" He called out once again. "What is this foolery?! Why did you take me home?! Is this real?! What-" The god cut off his own sentence as he suddenly heard something. Laughter... Child's laughter. It was getting closer and closer - until... A young boy with green robes and short black hair ran past him, followed by a young girl in a beautifully bright blue dress; her hair billowing in the wind. They were clearly chasing each other; running light-hearted through Frigga's garden.
Loki watched for a few seconds, before it hit him; eyes widening to the size of plates. His breath hitched in his throat as the two children came running straight towards him; his eyes settling on the little girl's face.
"Y/N..."
Loki breathed out your name; eyes still stuck on your youthful self. It send a jolt through his whole body - and especially through his heart. He remembered. This very night. Your parents and Loki's parents had to speak to the high council - and since your father was Odin's advisor, he needed to join. Frigga had sent you up to Loki's room in order to play, but the two of you chose to go outside instead. He remembered... Every second.
The laughter echoed in his ears as you and his younger self ran straight through him as if he was nothing but a mere projection. "What-" But before Loki could think further about it, the world suddenly started to spin around him. Faster and faster and faster. It took the god to the ground with a loud scream.
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Like a few minutes ago, Loki landed soft. This time, though, it wasn't grass... He looked beneath himself. It was straw. Still a bit dizzy from whatever just had happened to him, he shook his head gently and brushed a few loose raven curls out of his face. Chest heaving with the deep breaths he took, he looked up - and immediately recognised this place as well... The royal stables.
"What... What is happening here? What is this?" Loki asked, but of course nobody answered his question.
Then he heard steps. Quick steps - and only a few seconds later, you appeared in the huge door frame of the stable. Now though, you weren't a child anymore. You had grown into a young woman. His heart skipped another beat at the sight of you.
Loki witnessed how you quickly ran barefoot into the stable and hid yourself behind against the wall beside the door; giggling. The next thing he noticed was a voice. His voice.
"Y/N? Y/N! Where did you go?!"
You giggled again; rolling your eyes with a smile. "Come find me, Lokes!" You called out - and Loki remembered. It was again something he had experienced. Years and years ago, of course; in his youth - but nevertheless...
Steps were heard again as a younger Loki, dressed in his armour ran around the corner. Before he could pass you by, you jumped out of your hiding place; straight into the god's arms. He was caught by surprise of course, but then a joyful laugh left his lips, before his palms found your hips and he pulled you into a passionate kiss.
Loki was still standing in the middle of the straw like frozen; watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. His nerve ends tingled; butterflies running wild inside his belly and by the Norns, he could swear that he still felt your lips on his. How soft and kissable they were. You had been his best friend, but on that very day, you had become his lover. His princess.
Loki wanted to relive this wonderful moment in his life longer, but then he felt again that pull and the stable started to spin around him - just as he witnessed how you and him stumbled backwards into the pile of straw; lips still entangled.
"No, no, no, not agaiiiiin!"
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Loki felt like falling, before he landed with a thud on a soft but also not soft underground. The smell of pine, moss and earth hit him the second Loki reopened his eyes. Different trees and plants were everywhere around him - but they were painted black. It was dark outside. Again. Looks like the Asgardian forest, the god thought; running a hand through his hair. I must be in the woods.
Loki looked around; eyes searching for you, and after taking a few steps, he found you - and himself. This time, he dared to step closer, giving the fact that he couldn’t be seen anyway. Twigs snapped underneath his feet as he approached you.
You and Loki were on a small glade; a picnic blanket keeping your clothes from getting dirty. You had an arm underneath your neck to support your head - just like Loki, while your free hand was intertwined with his. Both of you were gazing into the night sky; pointing at different stars.
Loki came to stand directly beside you and himself; watching. He swallowed hard; knew exactly where the TVA had taken him. The god had figured out quickly that he was obviously 'travelling' through his memories. And that 'journey' or by Odin's sake whatever this was seemed to have one thing in common... You. No wonder, though. You had always been the key element in Loki's life. You were the one who kept him grounded. His anchor in the raging storms he had to face. Be it his father, brother, Warriors Three or heritage. You had been always there for him, until... Well, until Thanos and New York happened. He always wanted to find his way back to you, but then the TVA ripped him out of his timeline.
Loki swallowed hard in order to suppress the upcoming tears in his eyes; the full force of the realisation hitting him, that he was probably never ever going to see you again. Feel you again. Taste you again. His heart yearned for you - more than ever now, and all he wanted was to go back.
The god got ripped out of his thoughts, as he watched it happen before him. He had been so nervous back then. Afraid of rejection.
"Y/N, I... I know that this might come out of the blue and way too soon, but... I-I can't wait any longer. I-I want to finally make you entirely mine. I can't imagine a life without you anymore. I need you. My heart needs you. It belongs to you already anyway, so..." Loki reached in the pocket of his trousers. With a shaky hand he presented a silvery ring, which was literally shining in the pale blue moonlight. You gasped; hands flying up to cover your mouth, "Would you do me the honour and become my wife?" and then tears started to fall quickly. "N-Norns, L-Loki, I-" You had to take a deep breath to calm your racing heart - something Loki misinterpreted slightly. Fear struck him. "I-I know I can't afford you what my brother could. No title of being Asgard's queen. No throne. No-" You immediately interrupted him with your lips on his.
"Loki, stop that nonsense right now. I don't want Thor. I never did. And I definitely don't need or want the throne or being called the queen. All I need..." You cupped his chiselled cheek; gazing deeply into his blue eyes. "... is you, my prince. Always have been. Always will be. I love you. So, yes. Yes. I want to marry you."
A relieved, light-hearted laugh escaped his lips, before he smiled brightly and slipped the ring on your finger.
Loki, who still stood on the sideline, watching, found himself smiling. He loved that memory; held it close to his heart. It was such a special day for him - and you.
Before he could reminisce for too long, he got pulled out again. This time, though, the world faded entirely to black around him...
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Once Loki woke up and slowly came to his senses, he felt pain shoot through his whole body. Perhaps because he had landed full force on a stony underground - unlike before. Nevertheless, he quickly felt a change. Something was different. It was not like the last three times.
Groaning, the god lifted himself off the ground - and immediately recognised what exactly had changed. He was still on Asgard; on the balcony of his chambers, to be exactly, but... He frowned, as he saw you standing underneath the sinking sun; gazing aimlessly into distance with the engagement ring he had given you twinkling in the red-orange rays. He couldn't remember. This time, he couldn't remember. Even though he tried hard to. This was not one of his memories...
Loki stepped closer towards you; eyes never leaving your frame. You were sad. He could tell. Not just because at the look on your face. He could feel it.
Silent tears were running down your cheeks, causing Loki's heart to cry out in pain. He had always hated to see you cry. That hadn't changed. It never would. "Y/N..." Loki whispered. "What is wrong, my love?" You didn't answer; just kept on crying quietly. He wanted to speak up again - but you spoke first.
"Oh Loki..." You cried softly; wiping away some stray tears. "Where are you?" You asked; gaze still directed up into the sky. "I hope you find your way back to me, my beloved... Someday..." His eyes widened; and he immediately started to run the last few meters separating you from him. Loki wanted to comfort you; wrap you up in his arms and wipe away your tears - but he never reached you. His feet stuck suddenly to the ground, as the world slowly started to spin around him. "No, no, no..." Loki mumbled in slight panic; desperately trying to free himself - but his feet wouldn't budge. It was almost like they suddenly acted on their own will.
"Y/N!"
He decided to use his voice instead. "Y/N! I'm here! I'm right here, darling!" Loki reached out his hand - but it was too late. Darkness overcame him as got sucked in the next dark hole, before he got spit out somewhere else.
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The ground beneath him was familiar. As if he had been here before - and he was. Loki felt the soft grass of the royal gardens underneath his fingertips, as he heaved his tired body off the grassy ground.
Yes, he was right back to where he was in the beginning - but this time, his mother's garden looked different. Everything was beautifully decorated. Countless white chairs were lined up in front of him; each of them looking neat and elegantly - just like the people sitting on them. White rose petals were everywhere. It was beautiful. The god swallowed hard. He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly that he must've landed at a wedding. His gaze drifted to the archway at the end of the passageway; formed by the chairs. It was as well beautifully decorated with white curtains and roses. And underneath the archway... Loki's heart stopped to beat for a moment.
It was you.
You were standing there, wearing the most beautiful wedding dress he had ever seen. Your hair was braided into a stunning plait; speckled with daisies. His heart skipped another beat; pumping pure love through his veins.
But the problem was the same. He couldn’t remember. This never happened. He never had the chance to finally marry-
Loki couldn't believe his eyes. All the people on the chairs, his family standing beside the archway, you... Suddenly everybody turned to face him. Suddenly, every pair of eyes was on him; leaving the god even more confused. Can they see me? Can she see me? Is this real?
Loki felt how the emotions got stuck in his throat. This moment... He had waited for this to happen such a long time. And all of a sudden, it was within reach.
Tears clouded his eyes, as he found himself running again towards you - towards his future; towards everything he ever desired and wanted.
This time, he actually managed to reach you - and for a moment, Loki believed that this was truly happening. That he was going to finally marry you right here, right now. You stretched out your arm towards him. Loki breathed out a teary laugh; reaching for you. He wanted to take your smaller hand into his bigger one; feeling your warm, soft skin finally against his - but he couldn't. His hand just slipped through yours, as if you were a ghost. He tried again - with the same result.
"Take my hand. Come on, Lokes..." You suddenly spoke up; smiling brightly. Your bright Y/E/C eyes were literally shining. "What are you waiting for?"
Loki felt like crying. His happiness washed away like sand on a beach - within a few seconds.
Frantically, he tried to reach for you again. "I-I want to, my love! I want to, b-but... I can't... I-" Loki's body froze once more; signalling him exactly what was about to happen. "No! Please!" He was powerless. He couldn't do anything against it as he got pulled away from you - again.
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Another familiar setting, but no familiar memory. It felt like everything happened faster and faster; draining his physical and emotional energy. Whatever this was... Whatever Mobius had thrown him into... It was cruel. Torture.
Loki's body hit the very soft ground with a thud. It was softer than ever before. His palms glided over the surface; realising that he had landed undoubtedly on his bed - and the furniture around him belonged to his chambers.
He would've loved to just stay there and close his eyes to make it all stop, but when he heard the sound of bare feet touching the floor, he got up. Loki's head turned to follow the steps and when his eyes found you, did they widen immediately.
You were standing in the doorway; leading towards his bathing chambers. Nothing but a flimsy satin robe covered your body - which glided off your shoulders and fell to the floor, just in the moment when Loki's eyes settled on you.
The god swallowed hard; jaw slacking. You wore nothing underneath. He just stared. Stared at the holy temple which was your body. Memories flooded his head of endless nights (and days) he spent with you beneath the sheets; worshipping this temple - like you deserved. Like the goddess you were. It shot a warm feeling throughout his whole body; nerve ends tingling with desire - but it also left another gaping hole in his already bruised and battered heart.
He'd be never able to touch you again. To feel your beautiful curves underneath his fingertips; to touch your warm skin with his lips and kiss every square inch of your body.
"Are you finally joining me, my prince?" The sound of your angelic voice grabbed his attention; eyes focusing on your face - which was directed at him now. You were looking over your shoulder; hands working on freeing your hair from the plait.
"Time to consummate our marriage, husband."
It was the last thing you said, before you vanished inside the god's bathing chambers. Loki's feet and hands twitched. He desperately wanted to rip his clothes off his body and follow you, but he wasn't even able to finish that thought.
Darkness swallowed him whole once more.
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Loki found himself kneeling on the stony surface of his balcony once again; exhausted. He couldn't take this anymore. His heart couldn't take this anymore. He just wanted it to stop. Unless he was going to break - and little did he know that what was coming now really did break him. The straw that broke the camel's back.
Sure, Loki could've just kept his eyes glued to the ground and not look up, in order to spare himself some pain - but being the fool in love he was, he couldn't. No matter how much it hurt... Seeing you was just too tempting. So, he somehow managed to stand on both feet again and looked up.
You were leaning against the beautifully crafted railing. You hair was flying in the warm summer breeze. You were clearly enjoying the warm rays of sunshine on your face and the naked skin which wasn't wrapped in the beautiful emerald green dress you were wearing.
A goddess. You looked like a goddess.
Loki's eyes wandered over your body - but suddenly froze in place. He felt his heart drop for the millionth time; but this time it shattered into a trillion pieces. The god's knees buckled; legs almost giving in. Pregnant. You were visibly pregnant. There was no doubt - and with the next blink of his eyes, the tears started to mercilessly fall; wetting his ragged shirt.
"N-No, please... Please..." He didn't even know what he was begging for. For his eyes to betray him? For this to end? For you to finally be able to notice him? For the illusion to fall?
The smile on your face was brighter than the sun itself, as you ran your palms absent-mindedly over your swollen stomach - until it dropped and your eyes widened for a moment; looking shocked. Loki's heart was jumping over the cliff alongside your smile - but then you breathed out a laugh.
"Loki, I... I can feel her!" Her? "She's kicking! Come, feel!"
Your words caused even more tears to roll down the god's cheeks, as he began to shake his head. "I-I can't, Y/N, I-I can't..." Loki whispered; voice filled with despair and sadness.
But you couldn't hear him - and perhaps didn't even see him. That hadn't changed. But it didn't stop you from doing something you hadn't done the last three times the TVA had tortured him with your presence. You walked over to Loki; stopping mere inches in front of him. To feel you so close almost caused his heart to explode. He inhaled a shaky breath; swearing that he was able to smell you.
"Feel, my love," you repeated - and without blinking grabbed his hand to press it against the side of your stomach. Loki gasped; his whole body shivering. Your warm, clothed skin suddenly on his; the soft fabric of the dress underneath his fingertips; the clearly noticeable kicks against his palm. It was overwhelming. So overwhelming, he didn't even question why you were able to actually touch him.
It was a small moment of bliss, before he broke entirely...
In this moment of bliss and blinding love, he wanted to reach for your hand and bury his head against your baby bump to feel more - but like before, he couldn't. His hand slipped through yours, as if he was trying to capture air. This realisation dragged him back down to earth, reminding him that this was nothing but a cruel game the TVA played. It wasn't real.
Loki broke. His legs gave in as he sunk to his knees; palm slipping from your body. His vision went blurry.
"Mobius, please... D-Don't do this to me, please... I can't anymore. I can't. I-I know this isn't real. I know it isn't. Please stop it. I can't have that w-with her - I-I never will. She is n-not truly here. Please. Have mercy. I can't take this any longer." He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. It was all too much.
All of a sudden, everything got quiet around him. All Loki could hear were his own muffled cries and sobs. The god had curled himself up into a ball - nothing more than a picture of misery.
He didn't know how long he was half kneeling, half laying on the cold ground. Perhaps only a few seconds; perhaps a few hours - but at some point he could hear quiet steps approaching. Brown dress shoes came into his field of few. Definitely not you.
"Loki, I... I didn't know, I... I am sorry." A soft, familiar voice urged to Loki's ears. "I didn't know that Ravonna would send you through this..." Mobius.
The god lifted his head; looked straight into the sorrowful, compassionate face of his 'friend'. The agent offered him his hand, which Loki took to lift his exhausted body off the ground. "W-What... What was that? Torture, I assume." The man opposite him swallowed visibly. "It... It was a glimpse into the future, but also an illusion." Loki's eyebrows slanted into a frown, causing Mobius to explain further.
"What you saw was everything that happened... and could've happened."
Now he understood; a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You showed me something I'd die for to have but never could. She's out of reach - and she'll forever be. Just like what you showed me. Am I right?" Mobius swallowed again; didn't dare to say something. So, he just nodded carefully.
Loki's heart broke all over again; another bitter laugh finding its way past his lips. It truly hurt Mobius to see him this way.
"I am sorry. I didn't know that Y/N-" The god shook his head, interrupting him immediately. "Don't. Just stop, please."
Defeated, the TVA agent nodded.
A few beats of silence passed, before a small whirring sound announced the opening of a portal. "Come on. Let's get you out of here and talk, huh?" Loki nodded; wordlessly following Mobius.
There was no point in arguing or stepping up against him. Loki's glorious purpose was gone. He had lost - everything which ever meant something to him. His brother. His mother. His life. But especially, he had lost you - and the life he could've had with you. Love. A happy marriage. A child. Everything was gone within the blink of an eye; and only now did he realise, that he already had lost all of it the second he made that one wrong step which got him here.
There was no point in fighting anymore. He had nothing left to fight for. All that was left, was a gaping hole in his broken heart.
No hope. No love. No happy ending.
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alwaysmicado · 19 days
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Sink or swim
12.3k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 8
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WARNINGS: 18+, no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, flashbacks (toxic relationship, bad mental health), mention of miscarriage & surgery, smut (nothing too graphic), Tommy Miller x f!reader SUMMARY: You reminisce about the late-night conversation that changed your life forever. Joel shares a secret. A/N: Guys, it’s finally here!! This part was hard for me to write, but I’m beyond happy with how it turned out. We learn so much about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to share it with you. Have fun reading (even though it’s a bit sad) and please let me know what you think! I wanna know all your thoughts!! 🤍 Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics.
series masterlist | main masterlist
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The ocean stretches before you like a vast expanse of liquid silk, its rhythmic waves kissing the shore with a gentle insistence. The sun, now in its descent towards the horizon, casts a warm glow, painting the water and sand in hues of amber and gold.
You’re perched on a weathered bench, sneakers softly tapping against the sand, lost in thought as you watch the waves roll in.
Dressed in yoga shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with an ice cream cone in hand and sunglasses shielding your eyes from the brilliant rays of the setting sun, you blend seamlessly into the serene scene before you.
You appear inconspicuous, just another person soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air. No one can see the anguish gnawing at your heart, the tumult in your head, or the pain in your hand that makes you want to scream.
No, no, you look far too calm for that, too composed, too happy.
Besides, what would someone like you possibly have to feel bad about? Seriously. You just love to wallow in your own sadness, don’t you? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still your insecure, annoying, unlovable self. God, even your inner voice is irritating. Do you hear how pathetic you sound? Of course he wouldn’t lov–
Shut up. 
You focus on the waves as they dance and sway, their melodic rhythm a soothing balm to the cruel thoughts echoing relentlessly in your mind.
The ocean’s song, a symphony of calming whispers and gentle sighs you’ve loved ever since you were a little girl, envelops you in its embrace, drawing you deeper into a state of quiet reflection. The cool breeze dancing through the air brushes against your sun-kissed skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the promise of new beginnings. 
With a gentle tilt of your head, you take another lick of the strawberry soft serve you bought at the ice cream stand near the boardwalk, feeling the familiar comfort of the cool creaminess dance across your taste buds. It’s been a few months since you last indulged in this particular treat, sharing it with Joel after a rough day at work.
As the cold sweetness melts on your tongue, bittersweet memories of that afternoon flood back with vivid clarity. You can almost hear Joel’s infectious laughter as you scarfed down the icy treat a little too eagerly, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your inevitable brain freeze. But it wasn’t just the shared laughter and playful banter that made this memory so special. 
It was Joel’s genuine interest in hearing about your day, about you, his calming presence grounding you and making you momentarily forget all your troubles. He provided you with a warmth that seeped into your bones, a connection that felt effortless yet profound. Like it could be more.
Reflecting on it now, perhaps that should have been a hint that things were more serious than you wanted to admit right from the beginning. Oh well, dwelling on it is futile now. Because you did finally admit it, didn’t you? And not only that, you basically shouted your feelings from the rooftops last night, laying your soul bare.
Fucking embarrassing.
How are you supposed to come back from that? How are you supposed to ever look into Joel’s eyes again? 
There’s a reason why you stopped psychotherapy after a few months, there’s a reason why you don’t have any close friends beside Tommy, there’s a reason why your dating life has consisted of a series of superficial hookups over the past couple of years.
“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”
You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.
Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.
It’s an uncomfortable truth.
There’s nothing in the world you fear more than people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.
And last night, that fear came true.
Your innermost thoughts and feelings were on display for Joel to see, leaving you exposed and raw. The memory of your outburst, of his shocked face, weighs heavily on your mind and heart, filling you with a deep sense of shame and regret.
For a moment in that bathroom, you felt yourself transported back to all the times you’d scream at Simon for whatever he did to fuck with your feelings that day, just for him to laugh in your face or call you manipulative when you’d inevitably start crying tears of hurt and frustration. 
Does Joel see you differently now, knowing the depths of your insecurities? Will he even want to look you in the eye after witnessing what the real you is like? Have you lost your chance with him, and, did you ever even have one?
You sigh deeply and lick around the top of the ice cream cone to catch the drops threatening to run down, humming at the deliciousness.
You haven’t eaten anything else today, too nauseous from your meds and the knot in the pit of your stomach to find food appetizing. You haven’t slept for more than two consecutive hours, too agitated to find any real peace. You also couldn’t stay home this morning, as your apartment suddenly felt like a cage threatening to suffocate you.
Instead, you’ve spent your day off window shopping, aimlessly wandering from one coffee shop to another, your hands now jittery from too much caffeine on an empty stomach. You’ve ambled down the boardwalk, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding you, before finding yourself drawn to the familiar comfort of the ocean.
From the corner of your eye, you catch the display on your phone lighting up with Joel’s name, the device resting on the bench beside you alongside your bag.
You know you’ll have to take his calls and talk to him like an adult at some point. And you will. But this moment, this moment right here, belongs to you and your thoughts alone.
And to the hermit crab making its way through the sand just a few feet away from you. Your lips curl into a smile as you watch the determined little creature, impressed by its resilience in such an unforgiving world. Maybe you would’ve been happier if you’d been born as a hermit crab. Who knows.
As you swallow the last bit of your cone and lean back, feeling the sun’s gentle warmth on your skin, you can’t help but think of the first time you found yourself on this bench, watching the sunset. It feels like that was an entire lifetime ago, and yet, you vividly remember the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed you down, the sense of loneliness that engulfed you—how utterly lost you felt.
You allow your thoughts to drift, captivated by the soothing cadence of the waves lapping against the shore.
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Three years earlier
The sun is down.
Staring into the void, you’re consumed by solitude, the cool breeze coming from the water a thin barrier against the weight pressing on your shoulders. The world seems distant, the murmur of the ocean a mere backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your troubled mind and the beat of your empty heart.
This is it. This is where you were always supposed to be.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes, quietly drifting through the corners of your memory. With each passing moment, you meticulously comb through the fragments of the past few months. They offer no solace, only a stark reminder of how you reached this point.
In the stillness of the evening, you find a strange sense of calm, a numbness that dulls the edges of your emotions. Tears refuse to come, leaving only the echo of relief at the resolution of it all.
You open your eyes again, fixating on the endless mirror of the sky before you. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart. The salty tang in the air, the rhythmic melody of the waves, the laughter of birds mingling with the gentle lull of the breeze—everything.
You dig your naked toes into the sand, relishing the connection to the earth beneath you. The sensation is grounding, peaceful, almost–
“Hey there, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”
A man’s voice, rugged yet gentle, breaks through the silence, interrupting your thoughts. His words dance in the air, pulling you reluctantly back to the present.
Are you kidding me?
With a slow and deliberate movement, you lift your gaze from the horizon, meeting the eyes of the stranger who has disrupted the sanctuary of your thoughts. You rest your elbows on your knees and sigh deeply.
“Oh my fucking god,” you murmur, rubbing your temples in annoyance and disbelief. “The sun’s been down for two minutes, and the first creep’s already here.”
“Wha–” 
You look up at him. “Do you have like a radar or something where you get a notification every time a woman sits alone on a bench somewhere?”
The dark-haired man blinks in surprise, his expression caught between confusion and amusement. His brow furrows, his mouth slightly agape as he processes your words. After a moment of absorbing your outlandish accusation, his lips curve into a wry smile.
“Darlin’, I’m just–”
“Look, dude. If you’re here to murder me, could you at least spare me the whole blah blah you’ve got planned and just do it? Thank you.”
You look at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s not entirely sure if you’re joking, but your sarcastic tone tells him you’re at least not scared of him.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I assure you I got no such plans. Just thought I’d check in on a fellow soul contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”
You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, I prefer to contemplate in peace.”
When he doesn’t budge and just…stares at you with those big, dark eyes of his, you take a moment to size him up. 
Your gaze drifts down from his eyes, tracing the contours of his muscular chest visible beneath a fitted white t-shirt. It lingers briefly on the obnoxiously large belt buckle adorning his waist, then travels down the length of his denim-clad legs to his cowboy boots. Despite the surreal encounter, you can’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he is. 
God, what’s wrong with you?
“Look, sweetheart,” he says calmly, his voice a blend of warmth and reassurance. “I’m not trying to get into your business or anything, but it’s gonna get pretty chilly out here soon.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks. “We could go grab a bite to eat if you want, and my place is right arou–”
“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”
“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”
His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.
Okay, world. Hint taken. 
“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out. 
“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?” 
Your eyes narrow, fixing on him with a challenging glare, daring him to justify his intrusion into your solitude.
“No,” he responds calmly, his furrowed brow adding gravity to his words. “It’s because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to recognize when someone’s in need.”
The sincerity in his gaze catches you off guard, rendering you momentarily speechless. It’s as if this…stranger is peering into the depths of your soul, seeing past the walls you’ve erected to protect yourself. 
His face softens, the lines around his eyes relaxing as he meets yours. “Mind if I take a seat?”
You shrug indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity dances behind your eyes. “Suit yourself.”
He smiles warmly as he settles beside you. “I’m Tommy, by the way,” he offers, extending a hand. You hesitate for a moment, but eventually, you decide to reciprocate by telling him your name and shaking his hand with a soft sigh.
As his hand envelops yours, there’s a brief surge of something unspoken deep inside you, a connection allowing two disparate souls to briefly intertwine before returning to their separate paths again as soon as he lets go.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, his mustache curling slightly as he smiles at you.
The faint scent of his cologne drifts towards you, mixing with the salty aroma of the sea air. As you gaze at him, your eyes trace the lines etched around his eyes and mouth, evidence of a life fully lived. Strangely, there’s something comforting about his presence, something that makes you feel a little less alone. 
You give him a subtle smile before turning your head back towards the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy watches you silently, noticing the vacant look in your eyes and the way your gaze seems to be fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. He furrows his brow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he contemplates how lost you appear in that moment.
“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Tommy’s voice breaks the silence, his tone casual yet curious, as if striking up conversations with strange women on the beach is a regular occurrence for him.
Well, it probably is, you think to yourself.
“I, uh, wanted to watch the sunset,” you answer softly.
“Hm. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Should’ve been here and seen it too instead of wasting my time at that damn bar.”
“Oh? How did you waste your time? Can’t have been that bad, judging by the lipstick stains on your face,” you murmur.
“What? Where?” Tommy blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise as he hastily rubs at his lips and cheeks, searching for any traces of lipstick on his fingers.
You stifle a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you,” you deadpan, shooting him a quick glance. 
He stares at you in mock offense for a moment before his lips curl into a wide grin. “Touché,” he says, thoroughly entertained by your dry humor. “But yeah, things didn’t go the way I would’ve liked them to.” 
“What, she didn’t wanna go home with you either?”
“Very funny. But no, things were going well.” He sighs dramatically and rubs his forehead. “But then her husband showed up and kinda threw a giant monkey wrench into our plans.” 
“Wow, tough break,” you scoff, shaking your head in mock sympathy, “not getting to fuck a married woman. I hate it when that happens.”
Tommy chuckles. “Alright, alright, I didn’t know she was married, for the record. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything.”
“Sure,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you cast a skeptical glance in his direction.
“What are you up to, then, darlin’? Hm?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Besides not making out with married women?” You hear Tommy’s laugh beside you and wiggle your toes in the sand. “Just enjoying the ocean, I guess. I’ve missed it.” 
“You’re not from here?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”
“Hm. You’re gonna love it. There’s lots of cool things to see and do, especially for young people like you.”
You furrow your brow. “Why are you talking like you’re ninety years old and I’m your estranged grandkid?”
“I dunno,” he sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess…turning forty did something to me.”
“Married women apparently still throw themselves at you. You’re gonna be fine.”
He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that seems to echo across the beach. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”
You’re both quiet for a moment, punctuated by the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional cry of seagulls wheeling overhead. 
“What brings you here, then?” Tommy asks, observing your profile. You look tired.
“I told you, watching the sunset.” 
“No, I mean what brings you into town? Vacation or family or something?”
You turn to look at him, tilting your head slightly as you study his expression. “Why do you care?”
“Just making conversation,” he says with a smile, a glint of genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you want.”
“Like what?”
“Like did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”
Your bewildered look amuses him. 
“It’s true. You’re required, by law, to get your guinea pig a little guinea pig friend. They won’t sell you just one. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”
You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. “What kind of women do you pull if this is how you flirt?”
Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m flirting?”
“Uh-huh,” you say with a smirk, then turn your head back towards the water. “But what if they want to be alone?”
“Hm?”
“What if you get a guinea pig in Switzerland and you have to buy a second one to keep it company but the first guinea pig actually just wants to be alone on a bench and then some other guinea pig with a mustache shows up and asks weird questions? What then?”
“Well,” Tommy starts, happy that you’re seemingly warming up a bit. “I think the first guinea pig would quickly realize that the other, dashingly handsome guinea pig isn’t that bad and just wants to be friends. And then they’d be friends and run around together and eat hay or whatever.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and you know, I think us humans aren’t that different from them. I don’t think we’re meant to be alone either.”
You look at him. “Is that why you came to talk to me? Because you don’t want me to be alone?”
“Would that be so bad?”
“I guess not,” you murmur softly, your gaze drifting to the patch of dry skin on the back of your right hand. “And I’m, uh, not here for any special reason. I just…needed a break from home, I suppose.”
“And you have a place to stay, darlin’?” Tommy’s voice carries a gentle concern as he leans slightly closer, trying to see your eyes. 
“Yeah, I booked a hotel room a few minutes from here,” you lie smoothly. “With sea-view and everything. Just haven’t checked in yet.”
“Where did you put all your stuff?” 
“My stuff?”
“Yeah, your clothes and teddy bears and whatnot.” 
You nudge the backpack sitting on the ground next to you with your naked foot. “This is my stuff.”
“Oh.” You must have really wanted to get away if you traveled this lightly, Tommy contemplates silently.
He used to do the same, packing a bag and escaping, seeking solace in the open road. But he learned the hard way that you can’t outrun your problems. They always find a way to catch up with you, no matter how far you go.
He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Have you had dinner already?”
“I had a bagel at the airport this morning,” you say nonchalantly.
Tommy’s brows furrow slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Yup.” If you had even the slightest bit of energy left inside of you, you’d find his shocked face amusing.
“Okay, that’s just unacceptable. Wait.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens a food delivery app. “What kind of pizza do you want?”
You shake your head. “I don’t want pi–”
“Yes, you do. I’m not gonna have you starving on my watch.”
You raise an eyebrow. “On your watch?” 
“Yeah, on my watch. Now, what kind of topping–”
“Pineapple.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pine. Apple.”
“Oh, but I’m the weirdo,” he mutters, shaking his head and giving you the side-eye as he reluctantly adds pineapple as a topping to your pizza. “Anything else? Anchovies? Corn? My tears?”
“Jesus, don’t have a heart attack. Are you Italian or something?”
“No, just not a complete monster.”
You can’t help but chuckle, your smile lighting up your face for the first time in what feels like ages. Tommy’s eyes linger on you a moment too long, captivated by your sudden radiance, before he tears his gaze away as your smile fades once more.
Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to his task, fingers tapping away as he types the description of your location for the delivery.
“Should arrive in twenty minutes, the app says.” 
You nod and lean back, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you watch the waves again. 
“When did you decide to fly out here?”
“Last night.” 
“How? Why?”
“Simple. I took out a map, closed my eyes, and this is where my finger landed. And as for the why…well, home just didn’t feel like home anymore, you know?”
“Hm. I know that feeling.”
You turn your head and look into his warm eyes. “You do?”
“Oh yeah. It took me almost a decade after retiring from active duty to feel home again, or like I was safe, or like I belonged. It’s, uh, not easy to get that feeling back once you’ve lost it. I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Tommy says with a somber tone. He really is sorry. 
You look at him for a moment and give him a tired smile. “It’s okay,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “It wasn’t home to begin with. Not really.”
“Whatever your reasons are, you’re brave for leaving.”
You scoff. “Yeah, sure, I’m brave for running away.”
“Sweetheart…”
“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to try and make me feel better ‘cause I’m not sad. But I’m also not gonna act like I’m not a coward who accepted far too much shit for far too long ‘cause I’m very much not brave.”
You sigh deeply. “I should’ve gotten the fuck out of that miserable town and relationship years ago. But now it’s too late.” 
Tommy furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.
“Are you married?”
“No, darlin’, I’m not married.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No girlfriend.” 
“So there’s no one special in your life right now?”
“Nothing serious, no. No attachments for me.”
“Hm. No attachments,” you murmur. “That sounds nice.” 
Tommy nods. “It is, most of the time at least. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in love.” 
“You’ve been in love before?” You tilt your head and look at him with genuine curiosity. 
“A few times, yeah.”
“And the women you were with…they loved you?”
“Yeah, they did.” The soft smile lighting up his face tells you he has pleasant memories of his former partners. How nice that must be. 
“Do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out?”
Tommy’s expression turns introspective, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for answers in the distant waves.
“I have,” he admits after a pause, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. People drift apart, circumstances change, life changes...”
“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone you love?”
Your question catches him off guard, and the look in your eyes concerns him. “Well,” he says calmly, carefully choosing his words, “I can’t say I’ve ever had that experience, but I could imagine that’s how my brother felt about me back when I was spiraling and he had to watch me make bad decision after bad decision. He loved me, I know he always has, but he also hated me for what I was doing.” 
“Sounds like a good brother,” you say, mustering a smile. 
“He really is. Do you have any siblings?”
“Yeah, but I don’t talk to them,” you say, your tone betraying a hint of sadness before you quickly mask it with indifference. “My, uh…best friend was like my sister though.”
“Was?”
“Yeah, you know,” you murmur, the smile on your lips not matching the bitterness in your tone, “that friendship kinda ended after I saw her sitting on my boyfriend’s lap, shoving her tongue down his throat.”
“What the hell? When was that?” 
“Hmm, about a month ago. And you wanna know the real kicker? They’ve been fucking for like half a year. My best friend and my boyfriend. Laughing their asses off behind my back. Hilarious, isn’t it?”
“I’m so sorry, darlin’. They’re shitty people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve any–”
“How do you know that?”
“Know what?”
“How do you know that I didn’t deserve it? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.”
“I may not know you,” Tommy says gently, “but I know that no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by the people they trust. It’s hard sometimes to see things objectively because we’re our own worst enemies, but I’m telling you, you didn’t deserve that.” 
“I’m not sure that’s true.” 
“What makes you say that?”
You look into his eyes, and the pain he can see in yours breaks his heart.
“Because, I fucking loved it. Everything he did to me, all these years. I loved it. I could’ve left him after he cheated on me for the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, but no. I loved how he came crawling back to me time and time again, promising me the world, telling me he only loved me.”
You pull away, hands resting on his chest as you try to find your words. Simon’s intense gaze has your mind swirling with conflicting emotions, and your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your body trembling as he presses you against the wall with his body. “You–you say you’ll change, you say you’ll never do it again, you say you regret hurting me. And I forgive you. Every time. But nothing ever changes. You do it again and again, not caring how much you hurt me.” He places a hand on the wall next to your head, pushing your shirt up around your waist with the other, his touch on your naked skin sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, a devious smirk appearing on his face as he searches your pleading eyes. “I’m serious, Simon,” you insist, unsuccessfully trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. “I’m done.” Leaning in, he traces your neck with his nose, your heavy breathing and the way your tits press against his chest making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Is that so?” he murmurs against your skin before softly sucking and kissing on your flesh. “Why are you doing this?” you breathe, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you draw him closer. His leg between yours presses against your core, and you can’t help but whimper desperately at the feeling. “I love you,” he whispers, his warm breath gently caressing the curve of your ear, his words piercing your heart like a poisonous dart. “No, you don’t,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sadness, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within you. Despite the ache in your heart, a part of you still yearns for the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his presence, the illusion of affection he gives you. You need him, need to feel him, need him to love you—even if it kills you. In this moment of vulnerability, you surrender to the torrent of emotions flooding your senses, pressing your lips against his in a desperate attempt to drown out the pain, to silence the screams that plague your mind—eagerly drinking his poison straight from the source. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, offering yourself up to him with each rough tug, fervent kiss, and harsh bite to his lips. He matches your energy, gripping the back of your neck with a bruising hold as he hastily opens his jeans to free his cock. “I hate you,” you choke out, the words laced with bitterness and the raw intensity of your need for him as your heart races and your vision blurs. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, baby,” Simon murmurs with a smirk, his words a cruel reminder of the tangled web of emotions that binds you to him, even as you struggle to break free. With a deft movement, he pulls aside your panties, sliding his hard cock through your wet folds as he holds your leg up around his waist. “Oh fuck,” you moan as he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust, your fingernails reflexively digging into his scalp. Overwhelming pleasure mingles with the anguish of your body betraying you, even as your mind screams in protest. Your walls clench around Simon with fierce intensity, his repeated thrusts against your G-spot having you close to orgasm within a minute. “Tell me, baby,” he pants, his eyes gleaming with triumph and satisfaction as he watches in real time how his poison travels through your entire body, your mind, intoxicating your very being with his essence. “Tell me how much you hate me while you come on my cock.”
You tilt your head and give Tommy a tired smile. “Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?” 
“No, sweetheart, you’re not pathetic for wanting to be loved. You’re human and our feelings can be…complicated, irrational, dangerous. But you got yourself away from a toxic situation despite your feelings and that takes a lot of strength.”
“Hm.” You draw shapes into the sand with your toes, your heart heavy in your chest.
“Is he…why you left? You had to get away from him?”
“Surprisingly, no,” you say pensively, lost in thought as you fold one leg beneath you on the bench. “Things weren’t that bad after I decided not to care anymore. You know you can just wake up one day and realize it hurts a lot less to just not care about anything? Amazing. So yeah, that’s what I did.” You shrug and rub your left thumb with your right one.
“Of course, he didn’t like that at all, not being able to emotionally drain me anymore. He even told me I was depressed or some shit, acting like he cared, when all he actually missed was me giving him the reactions he wanted,” you scoff, bitterness dripping from your lips. “Coincidentally, that’s when he and my best friend started fucking.”
“I’m so sorry, darlin’, that’s beyond fucked up. Do you, uh, have someone to talk to about all this?”
You raise an eyebrow. “You mean apart from handsome cowboys in too-tight jeans late at night?”
“Did you just call me handsome?”
“Don’t think so,” you give him a playful smile, then turn your head to watch the waves doing their mesmerizing dance. Despite the light-hearted banter, a hint of sadness flickers across your face. “But no, I don’t have anyone left.”
Tommy’s expression softens, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern as he listens to your words. He reaches out, but catches himself before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder.
“Why did you leave?” he asks gently.
“I saw her.”
“Who?”
“Laura. My best friend,” you say, shuddering at her name. “I came out of the hospital yesterday, stood at a red light, and then I saw her. Looking right at me from the other side of the street. We hadn’t talked since before I almost died a month ago, ‘cause she never bothered to answer any of my calls or texts…and there she was. Daring to look at me with those fake-ass tears in her eyes like she isn’t a fucking sociopath.”
“What did you do?”
“I just…looked at her, knowing I could never see her again. I walked away, went to mine and Simon’s apartment, grabbed a few things, and went to the airport.”
“And now you’re here.”
“And now I’m here.”
The weight of your experience hangs heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the conversation. Tommy nods thoughtfully as he absorbs your words, until he suddenly shakes his head, chastising himself for his own stupidity.
“Okay wait, I’m sorry, but did you just say you almost died? What the hell happened?”
“Oh,” you scoff, a wide smile spreading across your face, its brightness contrasting sharply with the dullness in your eyes, “it’s nothing. One of my fallopian tubes burst ‘cause my dumbass gynecologist failed to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy, so I was hemorrhaging and had to have emergency surgery to get it removed.”
Tommy’s reaction is visceral: his eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as the gravity of your words, spoken with horrifying casualness, hits him like a punch to the gut.
“Jesus Christ, darlin’...”
“But hey, the doctor said I’m completely fine at the check-up yesterday, so I guess that’s what I am.” You shrug and smile at him, but your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat.
“Darlin’, I’m so sor–”
“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “My ex told me to have an abortion when I told him I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t have been a good mom anyway, so it’s best for the baby that it wasn’t born into the shitshow that is my life.”
“Dar–”
“I swear to God, Tommy, if you say ‘darlin’’ in that stupid, sexy accent of yours one more time,” you cut him off with a playful glare. 
He smiles at you, though worry lingers in his eyes and tugs at his heart.
“I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean,” you muse, welcoming the breeze cooling your hot face down. “It’s kind of poetic that my journey ends here.”
“It really is beautiful here, I’m sure you’d love livi–” Tommy starts, but you’re not hearing him.
“You know, I have this recurring dream where I drown, but instead of feeling panicked or scared I just feel peaceful, light. Like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I don’t thrash or struggle, I just…let the water take me under and I can finally breathe.”
Concern flashes in Tommy’s eyes, but he quickly masks it with a calm expression, not wanting to alarm you.
“That sounds intense,” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully. “Dreams can be strange sometimes, but that one sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s your mind’s way of processing all the heavy things that’ve been weighing on you."
He shifts slightly closer to you, his tone soft and reassuring. “But you know, maybe it’s worth exploring with a therapist or someone who can help you unpack it. Sometimes talking about these things can bring some clarity and relief.”
“Yeah, maybe,” you say absentmindedly. 
“Darlin’, please look at me,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, his gaze penetrating through the fog of your mind. If you had any tears left to cry, the sincerity in his eyes would surely coax them out right about now. 
“About what you said earlier…you–you don’t deserve people treating you badly, or any of the bad things that happen to you. You never did, you hear me? You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for, but you weren’t, and that’s not fair, and most certainly not your fault.”
You tilt your head, studying his face intently. Why does he care? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? But hey, he’s trying to be nice, and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again. So, you’re trying to be nice back. 
“Thanks,” you say softly, mustering a smile. “But enough about me and my dumpster fire of a life.” You shift in your seat, untucking your leg and stretching it out in front of you. 
“I’d rather hear about you and how you get your hair to be this healthy. I can never get mine to look that good. Do you think it’s because I just eat garbage, don’t drink enough water and don’t get enough sunlight?”
Tommy chuckles and nods understandingly, recognizing your attempt to shift gears, and decides to play along until you both hear the pizza guy calling for you.
Your insistence to pay for your own pizza and drink falls on deaf ears, so you begrudgingly accept Tommy’s invitation and thank him for ordering food. Surprisingly, you find yourself ravenously hungry after taking the first few bites of your pineapple pizza—that you originally only wanted to mess with Tommy. But even he has to admit it isn’t half bad after you make him eat a slice.
As you’re eating together and the night deepens around you, the street lamps along the boardwalk spending enough light, you ask Tommy about his life. 
He shares his journey of enlisting in the army as a teenager, grappling with PTSD upon his return, and navigating through troubled times. He tells you about the unwavering support of his brother and how therapy helped him cope with his demons. You delve deeper, asking him about his wishes for the future, about his hopes and dreams.
You enjoy hearing about his life, about his experiences that are so different from yours. It’s comforting to get lost in someone else’s story for a bit. It’s a refuge, a welcome escape from your own tiring existence. 
Pizzas devoured, you sit side by side, enveloped in the soothing melody of the ocean’s whispers. Time seems to lose its grip as you share both laughter and quiet, the minutes and hours slipping away unnoticed like grains of sand carried by the tide.
As tranquility settles between you, the world around you seemingly forgotten, a question gnaws at your insides, its weight palpable in the silence. It’s a question you’re reluctant to voice aloud, knowing it will rupture the delicate bubble you and Tommy have found yourselves in. Yet, it persists, demanding acknowledgment, refusing to be ignored.
You take a deep breath.
“Tommy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
He gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course, darlin’.”
“Why won’t you go home?”
Oh. Tommy looks deeply into your eyes, his own filled with turmoil, and finds that he can’t lie to you. 
“I can’t,” he admits softly, turning his gaze towards the distant horizon.
You nod slowly, turning your head towards the water as well. “You know why I’m here.”
“Yes,” he says simply, his acknowledgment laden with a quiet understanding.
You steal a glance at him, your eyes searching for comfort in the weary lines on his face. With a tentative gesture, you place your hand on the bench between you, a subtle invitation for connection.
Tommy, sensing your unspoken plea, catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze meets yours as you turn your head, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, he understands. Without a word, he responds, reaching out to cover your hand with his own. 
His touch is protective, a silent promise that you’re not alone. 
“Do you…do you think that makes me a bad person?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you lay bare the depths of your fears.
“No,” he responds softly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “You’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”
For the first time since your miscarriage, tears glisten in your eyes, shimmering like fragments of shattered dreams under the moonlight. Tommy’s words offer a glimmer of solace, touching your broken heart. 
Silence settles between you two, heavy with shared pain. You sit like that for a while, two strangers finding kinship in the gentle embrace of this summer night.
Gently squeezing your hand, Tommy turns to look at you after a few minutes. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his voice tinged with urgency. You look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence.
“Please stay with me tonight,” he pleads, his fingers tightening around yours, anchoring you to the present moment as if afraid you might slip away into the night. 
“We can stay here, we can go for drinks, we can go dancing, we can break into the zoo—whatever you want, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about anything, and I promise I won’t bother you anymore if tomorrow you decide that’s what you want, but please give me a chance to show you that I ca–”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” 
“Okay.”
As the gentle breeze around you whispers secrets of hope and renewal, you find yourself nodding in agreement, a silent promise to give him the chance he so earnestly seeks—to let him show you the light that flickers within the darkness. 
Tommy is momentarily stunned as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. But there’s none to be found—only a quiet resolve that speaks volumes. A wave of relief washes over him, and he can’t hold back the wide grin spreading across his face.
“So, there’s a place a few minutes from here where we could dance, or there’s the bar I went to earlier, or we could–”
“Tommy?”
“Yes, darlin’?”
“I’m tired. Could we maybe…could we go home?”
Tommy’s face lights up even more. “Yes, yes, of course, darlin’. My place is right around the corner.”
“Great,” you say with a small smile. 
You put your socks and sneakers back on, your movements slow and unsteady after hours of sitting. As you stand up for the first time, your legs wobble beneath you, but Tommy is quick to react, reaching out to steady you with his hands on your waist.
“Sorry,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you realize your hands are gripping his shoulders for support.
“That’s alright, darlin’. I got you.”
“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” you say with a playful roll of your eyes before removing your hands and taking a step back. 
“Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not working,” he teases back with a smirk.
“Whatever. Can we go?” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“After you, my lady,” Tommy says with a gallant flourish, gesturing for you to go first. You shake your head with a theatrical sigh, but play along and start walking.
He falls into step beside you, eager to lift your spirits with an array of random animal facts he’s accumulated over the years, and, much to your amusement, with some particularly funny stories about failed hookups, like the one from tonight.
As you draw closer to his apartment, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath and comes to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” you ask. 
“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask if you need anything.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, tampons, make-up wipes, solution for your contacts, hair conditioner, lotion—I don’t think I have any of that at home, but there’s a convenience sto–”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, touched by his consideration. “I got all my essentials in my backpack and really don’t need anything fancy. Thank you, though.”
“Are you–”
“Yes, I’m sure,” you interrupt softly. “Thank you.”
Arriving at Tommy’s apartment, you’re struck by its elegant yet welcoming nature. It’s spacious and tastefully furnished, with a modern aesthetic that speaks to Tommy’s discerning taste. You can’t help but wonder if his job as a contractor affords him such a nice living space or if he’s secretly a trust fund kid—or a very successful drug dealer.
“Must be nice,” you think to yourself.
As Tommy ushers you inside, you’re enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort as the space feels distinctly homey, with its wooden furnishings and cozy accents that evoke a rustic charm. The polished hardwood floors gleam under soft lamplight, casting a warm glow throughout the living room.
Tommy assures you that you’re welcome to make yourself at home as he heads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.
Despite its hominess, the apartment remains impeccably clean and organized—a testament, perhaps, to Tommy’s meticulous nature. Every surface is spotless, every item in its proper place, reflecting a discipline that may well stem from his army training.
As you explore further, you do notice small touches that hint at Tommy’s personality—framed photos of him and his friends, a worn but well-loved armchair and couch positioned opposite the TV, horse figurines on the sideboard, and a few potted plants scattered throughout, adding a touch of life to the space.
Your eyes are eventually drawn to the record player nestled in one corner, surrounded by a collection of vinyl records. The sight brings a smile to your face, appreciating the nostalgic feeling it gives you. You’re pretty sure you used to have the same model in your childhood home.  
“Here you go, sweetheart,” you hear Tommy’s voice behind you as he hands you the glass of water with a knowing smile. “You like Jazz?”
“Thanks. And yeah, I guess?” 
“Okay, wait a sec.” He moves with practiced ease, flipping through his collection of vinyl records until he finds the one he’s looking for. With a gentle touch, he carefully removes the chosen record from its sleeve, handling it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.
You sip on your water and watch in fascination as he places the record onto the turntable, the soft click of the needle finding its groove. As the first notes of a smooth jazz melody fill the air, you can’t help but smile, the music enveloping you in its warm embrace.
Tommy catches your eye and grins, nodding in approval as if to say, “See, I knew you’d like it.”
You roll your eyes and nudge his arm with your elbow. 
“Want me to show you around?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, so this is the bedroom,” he says, leading you down the hallway and into the room where you’ll be sleeping. The bed sits neatly made, its dark sheets promising a restful night ahead. “I’ll change the sheets for you in a bit, okay? And I’ll be sleeping in the living room on the couch.” 
“I, uh,” you murmur, but stop yourself, shaking your head. “No, forget it.”
“What is it? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He searches your eyes as you meet his gaze, waiting patiently for you to answer him. 
“Could you maybe…not change the sheets?”
Tommy’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Instead, he nods understandingly and immediately assures you, “Sure, I’ll leave the bed as it is then.”
You offer him a grateful smile and as if sensing your need for comfort, he asks, “Do you need a shirt to sleep?” Without waiting for your response, he retrieves one of his shirts and hands it to you.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, taking the shirt from him and holding it close. It’s soft and smells nice.
“And here’s the bathroom,” Tommy continues, leading you through the space. “Feel free to take a shower if you want. Spare towels are here, and there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet here. Toothpaste is over there. I even got fancy face masks if you wanna try, they’re in here. You think you got everything you need?”
“I think so,” you smile at him before leaving the bathroom to grab your backpack. 
As you’re about to head back, Tommy slips in ahead of you. You watch as he discreetly removes all the razor blades, a silent but clear gesture of concern for your well-being. You understand what he’s doing, and although it stirs a pang of humiliation and shame inside you, you don’t say anything and act like you didn’t see it.
After he leaves the bathroom, you take a moment to compose yourself before closing the door, peeing, taking off your clothes, and catching a glimpse of the small surgery scars on your belly. They appear to be healing well, already looking much better than even a week ago.
With a deep breath, you turn on the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over your body, soothing away some of your tension. As you lather up, enveloped in the steam and the rich scent of Tommy’s body wash, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts.
“Darlin’?” Tommy’s voice sounds through the door.
“Yeah?”
“Just wanted to check if you were okay.”
“I’m okay. But you seriously need to start buying body wash for adults, dude. I’m gonna be smelling like a fourteen-year-old boy now, and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you tease. 
“Ha ha, you brat. Enjoy your shower.”
You smile to yourself and appreciate how clean Tommy’s shower is as, in your experience, that is not something you can count on with men who live alone.
As you lather shampoo into your hair, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of peace amidst the chaos of recent events. It’s all so surreal.
Once rinsed, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of Tommy’s plush towels, the soft fabric hugging your body in a tight embrace. With the steam still lingering in the air, you take your time cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and detangling your wet hair, these simple acts of self-care something you’ve neglected in the weeks prior.
Luckily, your past self decided to pack a fresh pair of panties and a pair of soft yoga pants you can change into now, Tommy’s shirt completing your pajamas for tonight. 
Slowly, you step out of the bathroom, the soft light of the living room floor lamp casting a warm glow on the scene before you. Tommy’s sitting on the couch, bathed in the gentle ambiance of the record player’s music.
With a glass of whiskey in hand, he seems lost in thought, fingers rhythmically tapping against the glass, his eyes focused on the spinning vinyl. As you approach, he looks up, a small smile gracing his lips as he welcomes you to join him.
“Okay yeah, I get it,” he quips, his tone playful as he notices how perfectly his shirt accentuates your eye color. “You look better in my shirt than I ever could. There’s really no need to rub it in.”
Chuckling, you settle into the cushion beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence. It feels oddly comforting to be close to him again, his cologne a familiar scent.
But as you sit beside him now, something shifts in the air, a subtle change that you can’t quite pinpoint. It’s as if a newfound awareness has settled between you, casting a different light on the space you share. And as you steal glances at Tommy, you start to feel restless, your heart rate quickening.
Oh.
The realization dawns on you slowly, creeping in like the first light of dawn, illuminating the depths of your emotions. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the way he sits on the couch, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident. 
Your eyes trail over the breadth of his shoulders, down his strong arms, his sculpted torso, and settle on his spread thighs, the subtle flex of muscles visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Each movement, each shift of his body, only serves to deepen the intensity of your attraction to him.
You’re in trouble. 
His handsome face holds a certain allure, drawing you in with its rugged charm—especially with those warm eyes and the beautiful facial hair. As you look at him, really take him in, you can’t deny the flutter of arousal stirring deep within you.
A flutter that’s enough to urge your scrambled brain to make a move.
Tommy catches your prolonged stare, and his brows furrow slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. You gather the courage to ask for a sip of his whiskey, unwittingly biting your lip as you wait for his answer. 
“Of course, darlin’,” he agrees, leaning in with a broad smile, bringing the glass closer to you.
As your fingers brush against his on the glass, you feel a surge of electricity pass between you. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. You take the glass from him, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.
Raising the glass to your lips, you take a slow sip, relishing the smooth warmth of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you lick your lips, the gesture not lost on Tommy as he watches you intently.
The flicker of desire in his eyes tells you that he’s captivated by your silent invitation, but as Tommy accepts the glass back, a faint frown tugs at his brow, his expression suddenly tense.
“Darlin’, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint.
You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you ask, “Why not?”
“Because,” he breathes out, “it’s making me want to do things I shouldn’t.”
“Hmm, but what if I told you that I want to do those things, too?”
Tommy swallows hard as you scoot closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours. His pulse quickens, evident in the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, unsure of what to do or say next.
When your hand lands gently above his knee, his body tenses at your touch. His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but all he manages is a heavy breath.
“Tell me to stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean in slowly, searching his eyes. You can see the conflict raging within him, desire warring with restraint, and you wait for his response.
With a shaky exhale, his gaze drops down to your lips, his entire being filled with longing and uncertainty. But as your palm wanders up his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his growing erection, his resolve begins to crumble like sand underfoot. 
Unable to resist any longer, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. His hand instinctively finds the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your wet hair as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet urgency.
Feeling you so close, feeling your soft lips against his, he surrenders to the moment, to the sweet sensation of your embrace, letting himself be consumed by the taste of you.
And yet, in the back of his mind, he’s painfully aware of the circumstances of your meeting.
“I don’t think…this…is a good idea,” Tommy mumbles breathlessly against your lips as you whine needily for more.
“I don’t care,” you breathe, pulling back for a moment to hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. His cock twitches in his jeans as you scoot forward, your warm core putting delicious pressure on it. Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and lean in to kiss him again. He cups your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply before nudging your nose with his. 
You open your eyes and meet his gaze, his pupils so dilated his brown eyes are almost completely black. 
“Let me look at you, baby” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. With a smile, you straighten up and place your hands behind you on his thighs, giving him a great  view of your spread thighs and torso.
“Is this okay?” Tommy asks softly as he traces your thighs with his palms, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body.
You nod your head yes, and his lips curve into a smile as his eyes roam your body and face with adoration. His hands wander over your hips, under the shirt you’re wearing, along your waist and further up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing yours as his hands come to rest on your waist. 
“I’m sure you say that to every girl willing to sit on your lap,” you tease with a smirk, putting your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm. 
“Yeah, but with you I mean it.” His words carry a weight of sincerity as one hand reaches out to tenderly caress your cheek, while the other glides over the soft skin of your back. “C’mere baby.”
As you lean in, his lips capture yours with an almost desperate hunger, his kiss rough and deep, as if he fears you might vanish if he doesn’t hold onto you tightly enough. His hands glide to your lower back, hovering just above your ass, hesitant to go further yet craving to pull you closer, to feel every inch of you pressed against him, to consume you whole. 
“You don’t have to be so gentle. I won’t break,” you say softly, leading his hands down to your ass. You hum in satisfaction as he grabs it, feeling the strain of his arousal against your aching pussy.
“Tommy,” you whine quietly against his lips, begging him to understand how desperately you need him.
Lost in the moment, you both sink deeper into the kiss, the world around you fading away until there’s only the heat of each other’s bodies and the rhythm of your shared desire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam your back, igniting sparks of pleasure with every touch.
But as the intensity of your kiss grows, so does the weight of uncertainty. Tommy pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he searches your eyes for reassurance.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. “We don’t have to…”
“I want you, Tommy,” you purr, your eyes glazed. 
Your hips rock against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between your thighs, eliciting a deep groan from him. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind against him. 
“Oh shit,” he pants, reveling in the needy moans leaving your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he admits with a soft shake of his head, looking at you with wide eyes, still moving you against the bulge in his jeans.
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss and suck at his sensitive neck, leaving purple marks behind. You feel his grip tighten, his restraint slipping as he responds to your touch with a low groan.
Lost in the overload of sensations—feeling your warm body, your soft lips and wet tongue, your urgent movements on him, hearing your moans and whispered pleas—Tommy is ready to give you what you both want.
But right as he’s opening his belt with deft fingers, he inadvertently turns his head and catches his reflection in the window. Watching you writhe on top of him, clutching his shirt, his own face twisted in ecstasy, a sharp pang of guilt shoots through him.
This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.
You move to kiss his lips again, but as you do so, you catch the concern in his eyes, and your heart sinks. “Hey,” you whisper, your brow furrowed, an anxious smile on your lips. 
Your fingers trail gently through his hair, seeking reassurance, but when his movements cease and his touch withdraws, panic floods your senses.
“No, no please don’t stop,” you beg, your desperation evident in every word. You press against him, your hips moving with urgency, aching for the connection you crave so deeply. “I need you.”
Your hands gently cup his cheeks, your pleading eyes flitting between his. 
“Please? Tommy?”
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Feeling something bump against your leg, you’re called back to the present.
“Oh, hi there, buddy,” you coo, looking down at the toddler who just faceplanted in front of you. You lean down and offer your hand to help him up. “What are you up to, hm? Just running around?”
He looks up at you with wide eyes, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “You wanna sit up here and wait for your mommy?” You lift him up, putting more pressure on your bandaged hand than you should, and set him down beside you. “Great view, huh?”
He babbles something unintelligible, his little arms flailing as his excited laughter fills the air. “You’re so right, buddy,” you agree, following his gaze to the sparkling blue, “the ocean is beautiful.”
“Benji? Oh, there you are,” a lady in a swimsuit calls out, walking towards you with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to you, her tone apologetic. “Benji, how many times have I told you not to run away, hm?”
The toddler giggles in response to his mom’s reproach, his little arms reaching out for her. You can’t help but laugh along with him. 
“Think twice before you decide to have kids,” the lady says with a deep sigh, lifting her son onto her hip. “They’re not always as cute as they look.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.
“Say bye to the nice lady,” she prompts, her voice warm and gentle.
Benji turns to you, his eyes bright with innocence, and waves enthusiastically with his chubby little hand.
“Bye Benji,” you coo, returning his wave with a big smile, your heart warmed by his adorable gesture.
You sigh and look at your phone. You have two new messages from Tommy.
Maria says she can’t wait to see you tomorrow. And that she’ll personally drag you here if you decide not to show up. 
You’re family and there’s nothing you can do to escape us ;)
You swallow hard and can feel your puffy, irritated eyes starting to water behind your black glasses. What the fuck did you ever do in your insignificant life to deserve this kind of love?
Your phone lights up with another text from Tommy. 
just accept it <3
You snort and shake your head. You’re so grateful for his friendship. It has changed a lot over the last couple of years, of course it has, especially after he started dating Maria, and more recently since you started…seeing his brother without telling him. 
But the fact that you’re still honoring your yearly tradition to have your late-night talk on this very bench, is a testament to the depth of your bond. It’s a cherished ritual, marking the anniversary of your first meeting. You meet here, under the evening sky, exchanging stories and laughter, and indulging in pizza after sunset.
Two years ago, Tommy told you he met someone before you left his apartment the next morning. 
“Sweetheart?” “Yeah?” “I, uh, I got something to tell you.” “Shoot.” “I met someone.” Your fingers halt as you’re tying your shoes, the world around you suddenly still as his words sink in. You stare at the floor, tension building in your heart. “We’ve only been on two dates, but I–” “Really like her,” you finish his sentence as you tie the laces into a knot, straighten up and meet his gaze. “Yes.” That’s it, then. You’ve been replaced. “Does that,” you clear your throat that feels incredibly tight now, your voice shaking, “does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?” Tears well up in your eyes as you feel a rush of panic flood through you. You look down and try to blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “Of course not,” Tommy says, his tone gentle yet firm. “Nothing and no one in the world could ever keep me from spending time with you.” “Okay,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as you hastily wipe away a tear with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry for crying, I–I don’t mean to.” “Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Tommy says softly, closing the distance between you two. His hands find their place on your shoulders, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Darlin’, look at me.” You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I mean it,” he says with a comforting smile, looking intently into your eyes and cupping your face with his hands. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. I will always be here for you.” You study his face and tell the nagging voice in your mind to shut the fuck up. This is Tommy. He deserves love, he deserves happiness, he deserves someone who can give him everything he wants.  And that’s not you. You give him a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tommy.”
You did continue spending time together—Tommy kept his word and didn’t abandon you—but as more and more time passed, you would see him less and less as his relationship with Maria deepened.
You expected that to happen, it didn’t hurt any less though.
One year ago, he told you he was going to propose to her, and you spent all night brainstorming ideas on how he could do it. After she’d said yes, they both let you know one day over dinner that they were going to elope, just the two of them, and you were the only person they’d tell beforehand. 
A few weeks ago, Tommy beamed with pride as he shared that they were trying for a baby, the twinkle in his eyes warming your heart. Despite the joyous news, you couldn’t resist teasing him for planting that image in your mind.
After you’d shared your stories, and your pineapple and pepperoni pizzas, he very casually asked you if you were seeing anyone, and you said, “No.” 
“You’re a horrible liar, darlin’.” “I’m not lying. I don’t like anyone except you.” “Stroking my ego’s not gonna get you off the hook, baby.” “Hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s working though.” “The longer you deny it, the more obvious it gets, you know.” “I’m not seeing anybody, Tommy.” “You really wanna play semantics with me?” “Alright, alright. I guess I’m…kinda seeing someone.” “Why just ‘kinda’? Does the guy not realize what a lucky bastard he is?” “It’s not him. It’s, uh…you know me.” “Yeah, and that’s why I know you’ve caught feelings.” “Ew, don’t say that.” “Well, it’s true. It’s written all over your pretty face.” “You suck, you know that?” “Yeah, it’s part of what makes me so charming. Does he know?” “I dunno, probably not.” “Are you gonna tell him?” “Uhh, I don’t think so.” “Why not? All this time I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you in love before. You can’t just…ignore it.” “Tommy…” “Don’t even try it with the puppy eyes, I’m immune to them.” “Liar.” “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t tell him.” “Easy. If I never tell him, it’ll never hurt.” “That’s not how it works.” “You just couldn’t let me live happily in my delusions, hm?”  “Sweetheart. I know you’re scared, and you have all the reason to, but…sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith, you know?” “I’m not sure I can.” “What does your gut say?” “My gut says he’s too good for me and that he wouldn’t like me if he knew who I really am.” “As someone who does know who you really are, I can assure you that it’s a privilege I wouldn’t miss for the world.” “I just…don’t wanna mess things up, Tommy.”  “Look. Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost if you try. Everything changes and everything is alright.” “Wow, that was beautiful…you’re really starting to feel that rum and coke, huh?” “You know I’m right, baby.”
It’s funny, really. 
You actually entertained the idea that Tommy might be onto something, that perhaps opening up to Joel could bring some semblance of peace, that perhaps you could be happy together. Yet here you are, back where you started, the familiar ache of loss settling in your heart, whispering that everything is far from alright.
As the sun dips below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors,  reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, you take your shoes and socks off. You sink your toes into the soft, grainy sand, relishing its comforting texture. 
Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing the rhythmic sound of the waves to soothe your racing thoughts. With each exhale, you remind yourself that you’re safe, embracing the tranquility of the moment as the colors of the sunset dance across your eyelids. 
You feel grounded, peaceful, almost—
“Hi, darlin’.”
“Jesus, you scared me,” you startle with a gasp, snapping back to reality as Joel’s voice unexpectedly breaks the silence.
“I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me,” he says with an apologetic smile on his lips, his big puppy eyes looking puppier than ever.
You sigh exasperatedly and take off your sunglasses. “I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” he begins, his words stumbling over each other, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...I thought I–I mean, I wanted to...”
“Joel,” you interrupt him, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”
His brow furrows slightly and his heart plummets as he sees your bleary eyes, a pang of concern settling heavily in his stomach. “I wanted to see you, darlin’,” he confesses softly.
Your gaze sharpens with curiosity and suspicion as you ask, “But how did you know I was gonna be here? And can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”
Joel hesitates for a moment, then sits down beside you, his movements cautious as if afraid to spook you. With a nervous glance in your direction, he clears his throat, his voice low and hesitant.
“I, uh,” he begins, his words faltering slightly, “I went to your place after work to see if you’d maybe talk to me in person. But you weren’t there. And then I went to your office to see if you were working late, but I saw Kristen and she said it was your day off. You could have been anywhere at that point, so I went to Tommy’s and…told him.”
His eyes flit between yours, anxiously searching for your reaction. 
You blink slowly, processing Joel’s words with a sense of resignation rather than shock. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you realize that, at this point, nothing surprises you anymore. With a tired nod, you acknowledge Joel’s actions, feeling too drained to muster any significant reaction.
“How’d he take it?” you ask quietly.
Joel exhales deeply, a wry smile on his lips. “He isn’t too happy with me right now, but I think he’ll get over it.”
“Hm.”
“Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice wavering with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but after last night, I just…I couldn’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me.”
As Joel speaks, you keep your gaze averted, unable to meet his eyes, your focus fixed on the sand beneath your feet. You hear every word he says, each one echoing in the silence between you, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your reluctance to face him, Joel’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes silently pleading for understanding.
In the midst of the tense silence, a sudden clarity washes over you, and your heart speaks before your mind can catch up. Just as Joel opens his mouth to apologize again and explain further, you interject with your own question, the words tumbling out softly into the stillness.
“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing...like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? And no matter what you do, you’re always gonna be incomplete?” 
You meet Joel’s gaze, your eyes searching his, peering into his soul with a vulnerability that lays bare your deepest feelings. 
“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,” you whisper.
Joel’s brows furrow in a mixture of surprise and tenderness as your words sink in. His lips part slightly, his expression softening with understanding as he processes the weight of your confession.
“Would you, um,” you clear your throat, “would you hold my hand and just sit with me for a bit?”
Joel’s eyes beam with adoration as he gently envelops your hand that’s clutching your shirt, delicately prying it away and intertwining his fingers with yours. With a soft, reassuring smile, he places your entwined hands on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.
As you both gaze out at the vast expanse of the water, the waves lapping against the shore in a mesmerizing dance, you feel a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket.
You still carry the weight of unresolved issues and uncertainties in your heart, acknowledging that they loom on the horizon, demanding attention. But for now, they can wait.
Your hand in Joel’s feels right, and in this shared moment right here, that’s enough.
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Thank you for reading! 🤍
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milaisreading · 14 days
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🌱🩷: So here is one of the first stories I promised to write for my birthday... week? Idk, these are more of a treat for myself 😋 hope u like it!
Warnings: Reader uses a mix of she/her and he/him, since she is crossdressing. Requests are open! It's a yandere story, so be warned. If u don't like yandere stories, please skip this one
⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️
"Hm? What's up with those two?" Hiori's eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at the scene unfolding in front of him. Yukimiya, who was sitting right next to him cleaned his glasses and put them on again, inspecting the two Bastard players in equal shock.
"Did I go completely insane?"
"No, you didn't. Or, all 4 of us went insane along with you." Isagi gulped, his grip around his chopsticks tightening.
"Since when is (Y/n) so friendly with that German guy?" Kurona gulped as the four watched (Y/n) and Gesner laugh over God knows what. They were both speaking in English and were a little bit away from them, so they couldn't quite understand what was so funny.
'Why are you so comfortable with him?! I am literally here!' Yukimiya thought as he fixed his glasses, trying to distract himself. Hiori had a smile and empty look in his eyes as he watched Gesner ruffle (Y/n)'s hair.
'Don't touch him with your dirty hands. Get away. Get away.'Kurona felt a unfamiliar rage take over him, but tried to keep himself calm. He can't lose his cool now.
'Why him? Please get away from him!' Isagi screamed on the inside.
As the 4 kept having their inner turmoil, (Y/n) was obliviously talking with Gesner.
"Thanks for those German lessons, they really helped me when communicating with the rest when we didn't have those translators."
"Nothing to thank me for. So, same thing tonight?" Gesner raised an eyebrow as she nodded her head.
"Sure. Now that NEL is finally over we have a lot more time to study." (Y/n) agreed as Gesner hummed.
"So, will you be picking Bastard as your team or Re Al? Just curious since you are invested in learning the language."
"I still didn't decide. But, knowing basics in a language is a good thing regardless." She answered as Gesner nodded in understanding.
The next day...
Now, Kunigami wasn't someone who felt jealousy often, after the whole Wild card thing he doubted he could feel anything. He was just tired, but surprisingly enough (Y/n) was not turned off by his new attitude. Kunigami was surprised, but a part of him felt happy that someone wanted to be around him, despite his more moody attitude. He, liked it. Along the way, he ended up developing feelings for the other player, and would always be nearby to help her with things or pull her away when Kaiser or Ness were annoying her. Of course, Kunigami never expected (Y/n) to fall for him, but he thought as long as she was his friend, he would be happy. But, today he was proven wrong with the way he viewed things.
'Why is that bastard so casually talking to him?!' Kunigami clenched his fists as he watched Gesner pinch (Y/n)'s cheek while saying something to her. Although he couldn't understand what it was the German was saying, the blush (Y/n) had on her face was enough to piss him off and set him into action. Kunigami quickly walked over to them and grabbed Gesner's wrist, pulling his hand away from (Y/n)'s face.
"Huh? Kunigami?" The girl blinked, but the boy spared her no attention as he kept on glaring at the confused German.
"Piss off."
'Scary!' She shivered and tried to separate the two while speaking.
"He wasn't hurting me, Kunigami. He just gave me back the pillow I forgot last night." Just as she said that, she immediately regretted it, as the look Kunigami gave her was full of anger, confusion, and sadness.
'Why was he sad?' (Y/n) thought as Kunigami cleared his throat.
"Can you let go, man?" Gesner said agitated as he tried to pull his hand away.
"What do you mean by last night?"
"I spent the night with Gesner in the monitor room and forgot it there."
'You... why him?!' Kunigami gulped, looking at (Y/n) in horror as he let go of Gesner's hand.
'Did... did I say something wrong?' She thought as she watched the whole ordeal.
Later that day...
Gagamaru was someone who could be perceived as different than the rest, not weird, just different. He was more of a guy who enjoyed nature, fighting with bears, and eating everything with his hands, even if they left messes afterwards. Gagamaru was aware he received weird looks, but one of the people he could count on to not perceive him weirdly was (Y/n). He always looked at her as a reliable captain, a talented player, and a great friend. Whenever he had issues or wanted someone to talk to, he knew (Y/n) would be there. And she was, and Gagamaru was always greatful for that. Along the way, Gagamaru ended up catching weird feelings, nervousness, happiness, anxiety whenever he was near her. It took him a while to understand he fell in love, to the point that he tried to keep her attention on him all the time.
'I wonder where he is...' Gagamaru sighed as he looked around the hallway. He really needed to talk to her, but the girl was nowhere to be found. Not in her room, not in the dining hall, not even in the monitor room!
Just as he was about to give up, he heard voices from down the hallway.
'(Y/n)...' The goalkeeper excitedly looked in her direction, only for the smile to drop when he saw Gesner next to her. They were way too close for his liking.
'Since when are they on talking terms?' The boy thought, weirded out by this.
"Hm? Gagamaru? Why aren't you asleep? It's pretty late." (Y/n) stopped conversing with Gesner and looked at Gagamaru in worry as they reached him. The goalkeeper stopped for a moment, then finally spoke up as he eyed Gesner weirdly.
"I... I couldn't sleep. So I took a walk. Why... why aren't you asleep?"
'And why are you with him so late?' Gagamaru wanted to add in, but stopped himself.
"I was telling Gesner what we can visit in Tokyo. Since we will have a few days off, he wanted to see some places before going to Germany." Gagamaru's eyes widened for a second, a unfamiliar pain hitting him when he looked between the two. (Y/n) having her usual smile while Gesner looked bored and confused due to him not having the translators.
"But..."
"Hm?"
"It's.... It's nothing." Gagamaru bit back his tongue as (Y/n) tried to question him again, but he completely blocked her out.
'Why him? We are your team! Not him!'
Gagamaru waisted no time to run to Isagi's room after (Y/n) and Gesner left. If there was one person who knew the midfielder well, it was Isagi. They needed to stop whatever was going on. But, to Gagamaru's surprise when he entered the room, he already saw Isagi and the other three deep in their own thoughts while Kunigami looked stressed.
"Isagi! We have an issue!"
The boy jumped up in his spot, then turned to look at the panicked goalkeeper.
"What happened?"
"Gesner... Him and (Y/n) plan on going together to Tokyo... Just the two of them."
Isagi quickly turned to look at Gagamaru, the speed made Gagamaru worry that he broke his neck for a moment.
"You... you are joking, right? (Y/n) wouldn't... Gesner and him-"
"Hiori, please don't say it put loud like that. God abandoned us today." Yukimiya sobbed and fell on his knees as Kurona looked at a pale Kunigami.
"What do we do? What do we do?"
Kunigami kept quiet as the boy kept on tugging on his sleeve, but he couldn't answer anything. The only answer he saw fit was bash Gesner's head into the wall for corrupting their captain, but that wouldn't be appropriate. (Y/n) would hate him of he did that.
"We need to call in the rest. It's an emergency meeting."
The players looked over at Isagi, who looked both annoyed and panicked.
Later...
Now that NEL was over, the other players were free to roam around without having to answer to the coaches. The BM players were more than greatful for that, even if the room was crowded for now. They had to think of a way to keep Gesenr away permanently. They seriously needed to do something about this development.
"Why are we here? I wanted to sleep." Otoya yawned, looking as annoyed as Rin did.
"Yeah, and why are we cramped up in this room?"
"Why are there clothes on the floor?" Barou looked at the discarded pants near one of the beds as Hiori facepalmed.
"That's not important now, Barou-"
"If the maid is so annoyed with it, he should clean it up. But for real, why did you call us here?" Chigiri questioned, ignoring Barou's annoyed yell.
"Calm down you both." Kunigami commented, looking for once worried.
"Huh? Kunigami, what happened to you? You are not moody anymore?" Bachira raised an eyebrow as Reo looked at the former hero in confusion as well.
"Yeah. Must be pretty serious if even you are invested in this. And why isn't (Y/n) here?"
"That's the thing. This is about him-"
"Damn, your beds are so much softer than ours. Can I sleep here instead?" Kurona held himself back as he got interrupted by Nagi, and he was about to say something but Isagi quickly stepped in.
"Please, this is serious. (Y/n)-"
"Couldn't it have waited after my nighttime routine? And you could have at least invited (Y/n) over to make the trip over here worth it." Aryu said, looking in annoyance at the 6 Bastard players while combing his hair.
"Can you let us finish speaking? This is about (Y/n)!" Gagamaru yelled, finally fed up with everyone's yelling and interrupting. The Blue lock team stopped dead in their tracks and looked at the 6.
"What do you mean about that? What happened? Is he sick?" Niko was the first one to speak up, followed by Tokimitsu who looked composed and calm for once.
"Is there something we need to know? Just tell us."
"I swear I will skin you all alive if you let him get hurt-"
"Calm down, king. This one isn't even our fault. Can you let us finish?" Yukimiya glared at the red-eyed boy as Karasu chimed in.
"Let's all calm down and let them finish. This isn't helping anyone." Although the crow boy said it calmly, they all could see he wasn't calm, at all.
"Thank you, as we said (Y/n) is the one we called you all over for." Hiori started, but stopped as he looked at Isagi for some support.
"He... well, Gagamaru saw him earlier and it looks like him and a German player are having a.... a date." Isagi cringed at the word and so did the others, who then looked back at the rest of the team. The reactions were a mix of everything. Otoya and Karasu looked stunned at each other and then back at Isagi, their expressions clearly giving away that they didn't believe them. Others like Bachira and Niko shrieked at the news and immediately jumped on Isagi, shaking the boy to repeat what he said, which caused Yukimiya and Kurona to step in and pull them away from him.
"You... you guys have to be joking. There is no way (Y/n) would date that guy... He isn't his type. Right, Reo?" Nagi said nervously as he quickly sat up on the bed, looking from Kunigami to Reo.
"That's right, I know him. He likes soft spoken people more. I am sure you misunderstood-"
"He told me that himself. You think I would make up such a horror scenario because I have nothing better to do?" Gagamaru interjected, causing Reo to shut his mouth, eyes widening in fear.
"This can't be... He wouldn't leave me like that...." The heir murmured as he slowly sat down on the bed. Chigiri and Aryu decided to approach this more rationally, there was no way they lost to that blonde guy.
"There must be something else behind it. Why would he pick some guy he just met when he has us?" Chigiri tried to stay calm as he nervously smiled at Hiori.
"You guys must be joking-" Aryu started but Kunigami interrupted him.
"We are not. And, I do find it believable after what I found out."
"Which is? What did you find out?" Tokimitsu spoke up as an eerie calmness took over the room.
"Him and Gesner spent the night together in the monitoring room. (Y/n) told me so himself." Kunigami finally said, looking as disgusted as he did when her told Isagi and his friends earlier. Yukimiya looked at everyone, as expected, none of them looked well, faces pale and looking at them like they were ghosts. He bit his lips and quickly sprung into action along with Kunigami as they heard Barou and Rin scream.
"That nobody, lukewarm player! I will kill him for trying to take him away from me!"
"Not if I do that first. I will make his death as painful as possible."
Yukimiya and Kunigami quickly ran over to them to hold them back from leaving as Hiori yelled at them, looking at Karasu's calm demeanor suspiciously.
"Wait! We need to watch our next actions. If (Y/n) finds out we even had this meeting, we are done for!"
"Are you stupid?! I am not letting some no-name player take him from me!" Rin glared back at Hiori.
"This is all your fault, Isagi! You should have watched over him!" Barou yelled at the blue-eyed boy, who tried to keep his cool after the whole room went into a panic mode.
"I will break that Gesner guy's bones." Karasu declared as he cracked his knuckles, earning a nod from Otoya.
"I will join you there. Leave some for me."
"Hey! I am in this picture as well. I want to see him suffer as well!" Bachira said in a happy demeanor, so happy that it was creepy.
"I want blood, a lot of it. There is no way I will let him go unpunished for trying to take (Y/n) away." Chigiri cleared his throat.
"Is murder legal, Reo? Please tell me it is." Nagi said as he tugged on the boy's sleeve.
"I will bail you out of jail regardless if it is or isn't."
"I just want (Y/n). Where is he?" Niko asked as he held back a few sobs while Aryu glanced back at Gagamaru.
"Where is his room? I know we can talk him out of this."
"So you don't want that Gesner guy to pay?" Tokimitsu wondered as Aryu raised an eyebrow.
"I never said that."
Isagi looked at the whole chaos in front of him as an idea popped into his head. He knew exactly what they can do! Gesner was just one, while the rest of them were a team. Sure, they might not get along, but the do agree on one thing. (Y/n) was meant for the Blue Lock team, and the Blue Lock team only. And the common enemy will make it a lot easier for all of them to get along.
"I have an idea! For that though, we all have to work together. If we want (Y/n) to just focus on us, that is."
The whole room stopped and looked over at Isagi, who had that same expression he would wear when he finally figured out where he could score the next goal.
"Go on." Rin demanded as the rest kept quiet.
2 days later...
(Y/n) was standing near the Shibuya station, waiting for Gesner for the past 30 minutes. The girl was a little worried, and she would have rather picked him up from the facility than let him come here alone, but her parents were insisting on her coming home because of some family meeting.
'It was absolutely worthless, anyway. Where is he even? Did he get lost?' She thought in a worried manner as she dialed his number again, only for it to go to voice-mail immediately.
"How annoying..." She muttered while fixing up her mask, deciding to scroll through her phone while observing some of the people that were passing by.
'The girls are so lucky they can wear those cute dresses... Meanwhile, I am stuck with a boring shirt and pants.' (Y/n) pouted and looked down at her clothes.
"(Y/n)!" The girl's eyes widened in surprise as she heard three familiar voices yells her name while she got tackled to the ground. The passerbys looked at the group in surprise and whispered as they slowly started recognizing the players. But, Bachira, Kurona and Niko paid them no mind as they looked down at the girl.
"Guys, what are you doing here? And, can you get off of me?" (Y/n) asked calmly as the trio agreed and got off her and then helped her up.
"We were roaming around the place and saw you. Why are you here alone?" Niko explained in an innocent manner, trying not to give away that all three of them knew the answers already.
"Yeah, it's kind of weird to be standing alone here of all places." Bachira giggled.
"You are the one to talk." Kurona said in a more defensive manner as he stood in front of (Y/n), to which the girl chuckled a little.
"It's ok, and I was just waiting for Gesner to arrive. He is pretty late and won't answer any calls." She said in a worried tone, but neither of the boys paid it any mind.
'You don't need him.'
'We are all you need.'
'So stop thinking of him, please.' The trio thought as Bachira cleared his throat.
"Well, if he is leaving you stranded like this, Isagi, Chigiri, Otoya, Yikimiya, and Aryu are outside waiting for us. Join us instead."
"I can't just leave him with no warning, Bachira. That's rude." (Y/n) scolded the boy a little.
"And where is the rest? They didn't want to come?"
"No, they did. They are just looking around some malls and will join us as well." Niko quickly added in as Kurona nodded along. But, before (Y/n) could say anything her phone went off. A message! She quickly looked at the sender, relieved it was Gesner who sent it to her. The trio watched her expression slowly drop, and they felt guilty for assisting in making her upset, but that slowly faded as they remembered they could lose her otherwise.
'Sorry,(Y/n). This was necessary...' Kurona gulped.
"Huh..."
"Everything ok?" Niko asked obliviously as (Y/n) looked up at him.
"Gesner said he won't be able to come. Noa-san called them in for a last minute meeting..."
"That's sad, but you can now join us instead. What do you say?" Bachira said, not even bothering to hide his excitement as (Y/n) sighed and put her phone away.
"I guess. You won't mind if I joined you out of the blue?"
"Absolutely not!" Niko smiledand grabbed one of ther arms while Bachira grabbed the other.
"Come on! We have so many fun activities planned!"
The two started pulling her towards the station's exit while Kurona was behind and pushing her.
"Hey! No need to do all that! I will follow you three." (Y/n) said I an amused manner, used to their demeanor.
'That's right. Just laugh around us.' Bachira thought as he slowly tightened his grip around her hand.
'Just pay attention to us.' Niko thought, glancing at the girl.
'We will keep you safe from outsiders. Like every teammate would.' Kurona mused to himself as they finally exited the station and saw their group of friends eagerly waiting for them.
"Yoo-hoo! We found (Y/n) on our way here!" Bachira yelled as the group smiled excitedly at the captain.
"We didn't expectvyou here. How was meeting up with your family again?" Isagi wondered.
"It was the usual. Nothing notable." (Y/n) shrugged as the three boys finally let go of her.
"Now that we have (Y/n) here, we should go and eat!" Otoya exclaimed as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
"Shouldn't we wait for the others?" (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Yukimiya and Chigiri shook their heads.
"They are taking their time, and I am hungry as well."
"Yeah. The slow pokes will catch up to us, anyway."
"Let's go then." Aryu exclaimed as they finally started walking towards a local restaurant. The initial sadness (Y/n) was feeling slowly faded away, enjoying the company of her friends and teammates now.
'That's right. We are all you need. I am all you need.' Aryu thought as je watched (Y/n) laugh at something Yukimiya said.
'This is how it should be. Just him and us... and no outsiders.' Chigiri hummed.
'I wonder when they will arrive. Hopefully soon.' Isagi thought as he remembered the rest of his team that was missing.
'I wanted to bash his head into the wall in, but noo Karasu had to part us like this.' Otoya thought, still salty that he couldn't take part in the other group.
Meanwhile...
"This is quite a mess. It's a good thing barely anyone is here today." Tokimitsu thought as he looked at all the blood in the shower room. Karasu shrugged his shoulders as he pointed at Barou and Rin.
"Blame them. They went mayhem on Gesner."
"You guys really did the most on him. I can barely recognize his face." Hiori giggled, earning eyerolls from Rin and Barou.
"Of course I will when he tried to steal what's mine." Barou rolled his eyes as Rin sneered at Gesner's body.
"Ours, maid Barou, ours. We said we would share him." Nagi yawned as him and Reo cleaned their hands.
"Reo, for how long will the cameras be defect again?" Kunigami wondered as Gagamaru leaned against one of the walls, staring as Gesner's bloody form with a blank expression.
"You deserved this." The goalkeeper whispered, growing more and more irritated.
"We have still an hour left till the maintenance is done, they will reactivated then. Let's quickly change and leave while nobody is around." The heir smirked as Rin started walking towards the exit of the shower rooms.
'Finally. I have nothing to fear now. He won't leave me for a no name player.' Rin thought, finally letting out a sigh of relief.
"I really wish there was a cleaner way..." Barou groaned as he followed after the younger Itoshi.
"This was as clean as it could get. Now lets hurry up! I want to see (Y/n) again. I didn't see him yesterday or today." Hiori hummed with a smile.
"It was either this or nothing. Intimidating him wouldn't have worked." Kunigami shrugged.
"What's done is done. We just need to make sure (Y/n) doesn't find him like that. I don't  want him to be traumatized by some pest." Reo commented as Gagamaru nodded.
"I am sure someone will find him before he does, and if not, we will keep him away from the shower room."
"You better." Nagi side eyed as Karasu yawned.
"Do you all think they started eating without us?"
"Probably. (Y/n) loves food, so I am sure he is eating at least." Barou nodded his head at Tokimitsu's statement and spoke up again.
"Let's just hurry up now! I miss (Y/n)."
The rest nodded their heads and quickly changed their clothes and packed the dirty one away to get rid of it. After all, they can't have their captain see blood of a no name guy.
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hey maggots PLEASE CALM DOWN ONE MOMENT PRESS CONFERENCE.
Okay. Have we stopped screaming? Okay, nice. *taps mic* Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your--I mean, hi, Good Omens fandom and maggots. I was going to make a new intro post eventually, but after you all flattened my notes with eldritch screeching I think a press conference is more fitting. Especially considering the phrasing of these beauties:
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Maggots I love you but look me in the eyes and tell me you're not journalists reporting straight to the Times, with full honesty. You cannot. The how do you feel about this is only missing several microphones with news outlet names all in my face and that's wonderful. Entirely valid. Press conference time it is.
First, for those of you who do not need a Q and A, a quick note: Um hello maggots, yes I am still grieving, cheers to the people who queued sad Good Omens posts for the exact time I finished watching. That is dedication, truly, to torturing your mascot. A most sincere fuck you to all of those kind folks.
Next, Neil, thank you for showcasing my madness. I barely remember making that updated post. It was 2 am and I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea. So of course I did it anyway and now I am staring in horror at how unhinged I have revealed myself to be. You picked the most perfectly awful time to delve into the fray. I raise my glass to you.
Alright. For everyone else who is utterly confused and/or has just entered this madness, below is the press conference you have instigated, my loves.
You: ASMI WAKE UP NEIL REBLOGGED YOU. Me: I'M AWAKE I PROMISE THANK YOU ALL THE TWENTY ODD PEOPLE WHO SHOUTED FOR ME TO WAKE UP, YES I WAS NAPPING. BUT I AM AWAKE. IT IS DIFFICULT NOT TO BE. You: HOW DOES IT FEEL BEING LESS THAN A MONTH IN THE FANDOM AND-- Me: I was kidnapped, so with the blindfold and all the ropes, I'll be honest, I lost track of time. It could have been less than a month. *stares into distance* It could have been eighty years since Jan 4th 2024. You: YOU'RE AN ADOPTIVE MAGGOT. Me: Now hang on one second y'all you're stealing my term. I coined maggots to describe all the people, in the Good Omens fandom or otherwise, who kidnapped me or followed me or watched me descend into madness. Why? Because I was made the Mascot of the fandom, and Maggot sounded like Mascot. Kind of. I didn't know at that time that there was a bloody maggot scene in Good Omens. I also didn't know that apparently in the Bible, Bildad the Shuite calls mortals 'maggots'. But either way. I'm the adopted mascot. And the adopted child of divorce. You: If people who follow you or watch your descent are maggots, does that make Neil a maggot? Me: Uh okay I've got this question several times. @neil-gaiman, Neil I'm sorry, I'm going to pass this question to you. You are free to reply or not as you choose. *hands one of the mics over* You: ARE YOU OKAY, ASMI? Me: THANK YOU FOR CHECKING IN. *clutches Crowley even closer* NO I AM BLOODY NOT. I'M ON DAY FOUR OF GRIEVING AFTER THE SECOND SEASON. ANY MENTION OF POTTED PLANTS MAKES ME EMOTIONAL. THE GOOD OMENS BOOK IS ARRIVING TODAY IN THE MAIL, THANKS JEFF BEZOS FOR AMAZON. OH WAIT AMAZON IS THE STREAMER FOR GOOD OMENS. THANKS BEZOS AGAIN. IF I HEAR THE WORDS RITZ, EDINBURGH, PLANT, RED, BLACK, DEMON, HELL, STARS, CONSTELLATIONS, ESPRESSO, I WILL START TO UGLY CRY. *SHOVES MICS ASIDE, RUNS THROUGH THE CROWD TO GO SOB IN A CORNER ABOUT CROWLEY IN EDINBURGH NEXT TO ELSPETH AND WEE MORAG UNTIL THE GOOD OMENS BOOK ARRIVES AND I CRY OVER MY BABY ANTICHRIST AS WELL*
Cheers everyone conference over because your poor Good Omens Mascot is currently incapacitated with grief goodbye I'm sure you understand--
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avoxrising · 5 months
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The Feral One • Ch 14
Finnick x Y/N
Series Masterlist Link
A fluffy/angsty chapter for you all :)
Content Warnings - Panic Attack
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“Good morning Fiesty!” Johanna barks as she enters your room. You had just finished the bland breakfast the doctors gave you. “I brought someone for you!”
Finnick shuffles in after Johanna, still avoiding getting close to you.
“Finn!” you exclaim. He looks at you with sad eyes that make you want to cry.
“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” you sniffle. “Please believe me.”
Finnick just stands there, not responding. Johanna on the other hand, walks right up to you and slaps you in the face.
“Ow!” you shout at her. “That hurt!”
“See!” Johanna states proudly. “She’s harmless. She didn’t even fight back.”
“I can scream and she won’t do anything about it!” Johanna states before screaming. You cover your ears, but don’t panic. The doctors enter your room to see what all the noise is and you tell them it’s fine. Johanna just screamed at you to show that you wouldn’t attack anyone.
Johanna’s demonstrations ease Finnick’s nerves a little. Maybe they did fix you.
He slowly approaches your bed and you hold out your hand to him.
“Why would they fix you?” he asked. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
You shrug. “Honestly I don’t know but I don’t really care. All that matters is I’m fixed and we can cuddle without me trying to kill you!” you grin.
“Gross,” Johanna mutters. “I’m out of here. Keep it PG you two.” You laugh as she leaves.
Finnick sighs and crawls into bed with you. Despite still being cuffed to the bed, you’re able to snuggle up into his side quite comfortably.
“I missed you,” you sigh, stifling a yawn. You only woke up an hour ago but your lack of exercise has made you lethargic.
“I missed you too,” he hums, stroking circles onto your arm. You don’t even mind that he’s pressed up against you in his District 13 jumpsuit, while you wear nothing but your underwear and a hospital gown.
“I can’t wait to be free,” you tell him. “No matter where I go I always seem to be locked up in a cage.”
“When the war is over we will both be free,” he replies. “Snow will be dead and we can do whatever we want.”
“What do you want to do?” you ask him.
“I want to go back to four and live in a house on the north end of the district,” he states. “I want to have a big garden that overlooks the ocean, and a big couch I can nap on.”
“Do I get to come with?” you ask, wondering where you fit in to his plans.
“Of course,” he grins. “I still need a roommate. Who else would tell me to pick my dirty clothes up off the floor?”
“Ah,” you sigh. “So I’m the roommate?”
“For now,” he states but he knows exactly what you are hinting at. “Can we just focus on getting out of here for right now and worry about whether or not you are the roommate later?” he asks.
“Of course,” you respond, looking up at him. “I don’t care what I am as long as I get to be with you.”
He smiles as his lips approach yours, leaning in closer until your door opens and a doctor walks in.
“Mr. Odair,” she states, seemingly unenthused about the scene in front of her. “You are not supposed to be in here unsupervised.”
“Right,” he grumbles, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
“Miss Y/L/N has some visitors from command,” the doctor states.
“I’ll come back later,” he states, brushing your fingers with his as he leaves your room.
The moment he leaves, Haymitch and Boggs enter your room.
“Wow Haymitch you look sober,” you tell the victor.
“And you’re speaking!” he chuckles. “Guess we both changed.”
“Miss Y/L/N we need to ask you a favor,” Boggs states.
“Sure, what is it?” you ask.
“Peeta has been having a hard time since we rescued him,” Haymitch explains. “We were wondering if you would go in and speak with him, as a friend.”
“I can do that,” you nod. Haymitch sighs in relief.
“Miss Y/L/N,” Boggs states. “There are a few rules regarding your visit. One, absolutely no mentions of Katniss or anyone close to her. If he starts talking about her, just nod your head and don’t aggravate him. Two, don’t talk to him about what they did in the capital. It might set him off. He’s restrained in his room but we are letting you in unrestrained. If at any point you feel unsafe you can leave.”
The doctors bring you a jumpsuit and you get ready for your visit to Peeta. It feels great to no longer be stuck in your room, even if this is just a quick break.
“Remember, you can leave at any point,” Haymitch reminds you. You nod and step into Peeta’s room.
“Hey Peeta,” you grin. “I missed you.”
“Y/N!” he smiles. “I was so worried about you!”
“How are you feeling?” you ask him.
“Not great,” he sighs. “I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
“Yeah,” you sigh in return.
“Has it happened yet?” he asks you.
“Has what happened?” you ask him, a bit confused.
“Has the timer gone off?” he asks, confusing you even more.
“I’m not quite sure what timer you are referring to,” you tell him, slowly taking a few steps back. Your brain didn’t like this.
“Your timer,” he states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The one the capital gave you.”
At his mention of the capital, you freeze. You couldn’t do this. Your hands start to sweat and your face turns pale as you do your best to back away from him.
Boggs must notice your sudden change of mood as he enters the room and tells Peeta to excuse you two while you went to do your treatment. You hadn’t been receiving any treatment, he just wanted to get you out of there.
“Y/N, what was he talking about?” Haymitch asks.
“I don’t know,” you respond. “I think I need to go lay down for a bit.”
The doctors run every test on you imaginable with the technology they have available to them in 13 but they found nothing. Maybe Peeta was wrong. Maybe he made it up.
After monitoring you for another week, President Coin finally sets your release date for three days from now. They would release you immediately but they weren’t expecting you would ever be released so they need to figure out your living situation and what monitoring you will need first. You asked to live with Finnick but they said no.
“Finn,” you whine, sitting in his compartment. The doctors let you out of your hospital room supervised as long as you returned for meals and to sleep.
“Why won’t they let me move in?” you ask. “You don’t even have a roommate.”
“Because we aren’t married,” he replies. “In District 13 you have to be married if you want to live with someone of a different gender. I already asked if they could make an exception for us because we’ve been living together for years now but they won’t allow it. I think they’re gonna put you with Johanna when she’s released.”
“Well then let’s get married!” you state, catching him off guard. He laughs at this suggestion, causing you to frown.
“Oh,” he states, noticing your reaction. “That was a serious suggestion?”
“Yes,” you respond.
“We aren’t even dating!” he replies. “And you want to just skip to getting married?”
“Uh yeah,” you respond. “I don’t think they’ll let us live together if we’re just dating so marriage it is!”
Finnick groans and puts his head in his hands.
“Y/N marriage is a serious thing,” he states. “People get married because they’re in love, not to become roommates.”
“So you aren’t in love with me?” you frown. Boys are so confusing.
“No that’s not what I’m saying,” Finnick responds. “I’m saying that getting married just so District 13 lets us live together is not a good reason to be getting married.”
“So you are in love with me?” you grin.
“Shut up,” he replies.
“Make me”
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urlocalreadermooni · 11 months
Text
Aizetsu x Reader
Female!Reader ( Hashira reader )
A/n: I am having a difficult time figuring out what to write nowadays 
A bit of spoilers but also a bit not since it's mixed with imagination. 
Part 2
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                                                              Why do I feel this way…
You were sent to go relax in the swordsmith village, along with getting a new sword for yourself.  You were the Moon Hashira, Muichiros older sister. You had been told to go to the swordsmith village with your brother so you were already excited about it! You both were usually very quiet but when together alone, you guys can talk for hours! And I mean hours. One time you went on for 4 hours straight and Sanemi walked in on you two. He never looked at you both the same way. And to inform you reader, You are 18 turning 19 (IN THE FIC).
 You were in a room with Muichiro talking about how you were excited to see how your new swords would be designed since you both got new swordsmiths. But then a demon opened the door and you both turned. You ended up slicing its head as soon as it entered. It was crying when you slashed its head off too. It split into two more demons? ‘Odd.’ you thought and next thing you know, the green eyed clone had a fan that blew your brother through the wall into the forest. You screamed his name as he flew and you stared at the demon in anger. You had charged after him.
A little while later
Now there were 4 demons. One blue eyed, one green eyed that you despised, one red eyed, and one yellow eyed. They were all looking at you. Tanjiro and Genya had made it to the scene, tanjiro got swept away by the yellow clone and Genya fought the red clone. The green one went after Genya as well. The blue clone kept looking at you in a weird way so you decided to fight him. As you approached the Blue clone he backed away. He seemed to have no intention of fighting but you didn’t care, it was a demon! “Please don’t… It makes me sad that you want me dead…” He said softly. 
You let your guard down for a single second. And you get tackled by the yellow clone. You fell to the ground with the Bird? Man? Demon? On you. You got mad and then you heard, “Don’t hurt her Urogi… It makes me sad…” Urogi was his name huh? You felt the yellow clone ‘Urogi’ shift and he spoke. “Aizetsu you can’t be serious! It's a hashira!” He laughed. You heard him speak again. “Besides, It will be fun to rip her to shreds!” Aizetsu clearly did not like the idea by the sound of his tone. “Urogi. It's too upsetting to see someone die like that..” You could feel his talons dig into your back. "you are really hinting that you don’t want to kill this one!”
 You were laying there, listening to this conversation between the two demons. Generally confused mostly, but also a little curious. Why was this demon trying to convince this BIRD BRAIN to not kill you? Odd.. “Let me handle her… It's upsetting that you're hurting her..” You felt Urogi groan and fly off. You got up faster than ever and raised your sword at Aizetsu, the blue clone. You were about to attack until he raised his hands in the air, dropping his spear. Like he is showing you that he surrenders. You heard from behind you. “Aizetsu. What the hell are you doing you coward!” He glared at the red clone. “All of you stay out of this.” He said to the other clones in a harsh tone, but still a bit sad. He started walking closer to you and you were starting to feel uneasy about the situation. 
Why would an UPPERRANK not want to kill a HASHIRA. You were looking at him and he kept stepping closer to you. You wanted to step back but there were other clones watching you, like the red one. You had your sword pointed to his neck and he stood there, close to you. But not attacking you, hands still in the air with his spear behind him. He slowly lowered his hands and offered his hand to you. “I promise I won't hurt you.. That would just be sad..” You didn’t take his hand but you nodded, letting him know that you understood. He had a very small smile on his face after you nodded. You found it a bit cute but quickly shook off that feeling for a freaking DEMON. 
“My name is Aizetsu… What is yours? Please tell me..” Was a demon REALLY asking you for your.. Name? “Why do you want to know my name? Aizetsu.” You heard giggling from behind you, clearly from the one they called ‘Urogi’. Aizetsu looked somewhat annoyed at him laughing. “Because you're different from the others..” Different? How could you be different? Yeah you're a hashira, but in what way were you different? You looked at him confused now and slowly lowered your blade, even though you're not really supposed to. “Different? In what way?” You asked him. He started to get a little more… Excited? It was hard to read him since he looked a bit sad and down all the time. 
“You are more… Cute…?” He sounded a bit confused when he said cute. But you immediately let all your guard down and went bright red. ‘A demon.. Calling me CUTE?!’ you internally panicked. Urogi was laughing so hard in the background. “Aizetsu has feelings… FOR A HASHIRA!” Aizetsu ignored him. Aizetsu, noticing you blushing, felt happy, “So will you tell me your name?” You nodded and spoke, “I-its (Name)...” He smiled a bit more this time. “Cute name for a cute girl.. It almost makes me cry on how cute it is..” You were blushing. HARD. He. Kept. Calling. You. CUTE. “D-Do you even know what cute means..” You said covering your face while dropping your sword. 
Tanjiro slowly made his way back to where you were and yelled your name. Snapping you out of your freak out. You picked up your sword again and Aizetsu grabbed your hand. “Hey hey hey! It's okay! Don’t leave.. That would make me sad..” Tanjiro was confused and fought one of the other clones. You looked at Aizetsu again, he looked cute… And then you started blushing again. He kept holding your hand and you were freaking out internally about it. He pulled you closer to him and knocked the sword out of your hand while you were stunned. “(Name)... Can I keep you?” He asked in a very happy yet sad tone. What. Did. He. Just. Say. “W-what?-” You asked confused, and also very flustered. “You heard me. Can I keep you? If you say no I'll have to kill you..” He said the last part sadly. “If you take him you’re gonna have to take all of us.” Urogi said. 
You sighed and gave in.
“Fine. You can keep me.”
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honeybeefae · 10 months
Note
Revenge Fuck Eris
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Use Me (Eris x Reader)
BINGO: Revenge Fuck
(Okay I am back and I am READY! Also going to apologize for making this so short but i KNOW y’all will want a part two so dont worry. This was hella fun to write and I definitely think Eris would be 100% for a revenge fuck because he would egg you on. I really think this is one of my best-written scenes and I hope you guys enjoy it!)
WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of cheating (both parties), semi-public sex
What. The. Fuck.
Those were the three words your mind was repeatedly screaming when you walked in on Azriel, your boyfriend, your best friend, the man you’ve been with for years, pinning the youngest Archeron sister against the wall with his head buried in her neck. 
There was no explaining away the situation. Nothing innocent about the pose and you felt a dangerous mix of anger and betrayal brewing deep in your soul. You had stood there frozen as Elain’s eyes had met your own, at first widening in surprise and shame before Azriel did something that had her gasping and moaning.
You balled up your fists and heavily contemplated murdering them both before your shoulders sagged and you turned and left the room. It felt like all the rooms were caving in around you, your blood rushing to your ears as you stumbled down the hallway trying to find your room.
“Y/N?” A garbled voice called out, your mind not even registering it until the person physically stopped you and shook your shoulders. “Y/N!”
Your eyes blinked away the tears that were falling down your face as you made out the face of Eris. You had forgotten he was staying in the Night Court for the night, the Solstice party upstairs still in full swing.
“Leave me alone, Eris. I’m not in the mood.” You frowned, pushing his hands off of you and turning around. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrist, stopping you once more. It pissed you off.
“I said leave me alone!”
“Who did this to you?” He asked quietly, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Who made you cry?”
“It doesn’t matter.” You hiccuped, looking at your shoes. When you had found them all you had felt was rage but now that you were alone, you were consumed by sadness and shame. What if’s were running through your mind, wondering if you had done something or if you had become unattractive. It was gnawing at your gut. 
“It does to me,” Eris murmured, putting two fingers under your chin so you were looking at him. “What happened?”
Eris, despite his flaws and the rumors around him, had always treated you well. You were his favorite member of Rhysand’s court if he had to choose though that wasn’t saying much. The two of you had similar fathers and bonded over it. Sometimes you would joke around and it always bothered Azriel. In fact, if you were ever close to Eris with Azriel in the same room he seemed to have a problem with it.
All that being said, could your trust Eris? Would he laugh in your face and confirm your worst fears? Would he use it to hurt you later? There was still so much that you didn’t know about him it was hard to decide if he was who he presented himself as.
But as he watched you, you saw no laughter or judgment in his eyes. Just worry.
“I caught,” You took a shuddering breath, wrapping your arms around yourself as the scene replayed in your head. “I caught Azriel and Elain…they were, he was…”
You couldn’t even finish the sentence. It felt like you were going to be physically sick if you continued speaking so you closed your mouth and closed your eyes, trying to take deep breaths.
His fingers disappeared from your chin and you had thought he had left, too uncomfortable to say anything or perhaps even go gossip, but when you peeked out you saw him still standing there.
Except his eyes were now filled with cold rage, his jaw tense. You saw that his fist was curled up by his side and could physically feel the heat coming off of him. He turned to look behind him, as if contemplating if he should go find the couple, before turning back to you.
“What an ignorant, foolish male,” Eris growled, long strands of red hair falling in front of his face as he shook his head. “To go out and find a star when he had a whole galaxy right in front of him.”
Your head snapped up to look at him when he finished his sentence, confusion evident on your face. What had he just said? 
“What?” You asked quietly.
“You heard me.” He whispered, watching you take in his words. “He’s a fool to go after someone like her when he has you. If you were mine…”
Eris cut his sentence short, tightening his lips to stop whatever confession was about to spill from his mouth. You, however, wanted to hear it and stepped closer to him. The tears on your face were shining in the candlelight of the hallway as you gazed up at him, your heart thrumming.
“If I was yours?” 
“I do not wish to make things harder on you. I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. Let me escort you back to the party.” He ushered, trying to change the topic. However, you planted your feet firmly on the ground to root yourself in place. 
“No, I don’t want to go back to the party.” You said stubbornly, raising your chin. “Finish what you were going to say.”
“If I finish that sentence I am afraid my rocky alliance with this court will come tumbling down. Please.” His voice was tense but you could see how his cheeks flushed, how his breathing was just a little faster, and you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing back once more.
“Oh for goodness sake, Eris, just-” You began frustratedly, gasping when you suddenly found yourself pressed against the cool brick of the hallway with Eris looming over you. His body was pressed fully against you, his hand lightly grasping your face, and you could swear you could feel something grazing your thigh.
“If you were mine I would take care of you properly. I wouldn’t leave you in search of anyone else, I wouldn’t need anyone else.” He breathed into your ear, swallowing thickly. “If you were mine…I would ruin all other men for you. I would teach you so many things, show you how a lady like yourself should properly be bedded and fucked. You would begin every morning and end every night with my name on your lips and your legs wrapped around me.”
His words went straight to your sex and you couldn’t stop the small whimper that escaped you. Eris had always been a distant friend, if that, but you couldn’t deny his beauty. The way he carried himself, his attitude, and even his walk had you staring for longer than you care to admit.
You knew your body wanted this…you knew Eris wanted this…but then your mind flashed back to Azriel. The man who you lived with, the man who made you feel safe and secure. He had always made sure your needs were met, that you never wanted for anything. 
And he also was currently in another room screwing Elain Archeron’s brains out.
It seemed Eris caught your hesitation and while a small part of him wrestled with the morality of what he was intending to do, the bigger part wanted to show you just how better you could be treated. He also liked the fact that he would be taking something from the sulking Illyrian, something he didn’t understand the true value of. 
“Come on, little fox.” Eris purred into your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “Use me. Get revenge. Let me show you what you need.”
Your eyes closed, feeling like you were standing between two doors that led to different fates. All sorts of conflicting feelings were swirling in your soul but when Eris trailed a hand up your leg, hiking it over his hip, the answer became crystal clear.
You wanted him. 
“Yes, yes.” You nodded, raising your hands to tangle in his hair. “Ruin me.”
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he crashed his lips against your own, your teeth gnashing together in carnal need as he easily moved your other leg so that you were now fully wrapped around him. The taste of him had you growing even wetter as he slid his tongue into your mouth, using one of his hands to free himself before shoving your panties to the side.
You cried out and threw your head back when he thrust into you fully, the delicious stretch of his cock feeling better than any man you had had before. He immediately set a hard pace, angling his hips so he reached that spot inside you that had you clenching around him tightly.
“Fuck, Eris, oh my gods…” You whined, your dress bunched up at your hips as your feet bounced with his thrust. Eris was no better, his lips moving to start biting at your neck and shoulder. He was being rough, his teeth catching your skin, but you loved it. It was making you feel a high you didn’t get with Azriel.
“I knew you’d be tight for me, knew you’d take me so well.” He praised as he grabbed both of your asscheeks for better leverage. “Do I fuck you better than that bastard? Hm?”
When you tried to answer he gave a particularly hard thrust that made you see stars, your eyes rolling back into your head as you rested it against the wall. You could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, faster than ever, and you knew you were going to drown in it. 
He knew it too, could see the small o your lips were creating as he licked a long stripe up your neck and to your ear. Your hands moved his hair to grasp his shoulders, your nails digging so hard into his skin that you pierced it. 
“Look at you, Y/N, letting me fuck your pretty cunt in the hallway where anyone could see. But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” He taunted, his balls tightening with the need to release. “You want him to find you, to see you getting split in half by me. You want to be claimed in front of the world.” 
You tried to shake your head but Eris grunted in disapproval, squishing your face in his hand until your eyes were forced open. His pupils were blown wide in lust, matching your own, and you swore it was just the two of you in the whole world. 
“Say it.”
“I want it,” You moaned, right on the cusp of ecstasy. “I want him to see me like this, for him to see how much better you are.”
Eris snarled and kissed you once more, hitting that spot in you one more time and sending you toppling over the edge. It made your entire body shake and you felt like you were floating on air. He followed you into bliss easily, releasing inside of you until you were filled to the brim.
Both of you were sharing breaths when he pulled away, resting his forehead against your own. He still had you pinned which you were thankful for as you weren’t sure if you could walk yet. You came down slowly as you realized what had just happened, what you had just done.
And where you expected guilt to reside you felt…nothing. In fact, more than anything, you felt hungry for more. It was like brushing over a bite that itched. You couldn’t get just a taste, you needed everything. You needed to scratch that itch until you were satisfied.
When your eyes connected with his you knew Eris felt the same way. You smiled, exposing all your teeth, before nodding once. He gave you a small smirk and held you tightly against him before winnowing away to his temporary room in the Night Court.
Both of you missed the pair of vengeful hazel eyes watching you from the end of the hallway. 
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uglypastels · 10 months
Text
Not Wholly Evil |IX| pirate!Eddie au [NSFW]
a/n we are getting so close to the endddd oh my god i am so excited and sad at the same time because i don't want this story to end as much as some of you, but I also cannot wait to share my next lil projects with you 🥰 thank you for all the support on the last chapter!
this chapter will include explicit scenes. Minors DO NOT Interact. 18+. if you have read the previous chapters but do/should not wish to consume this content, please read:
Chapter 9 (safe for work version)
Series Masterlist
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word count: 13k
"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences in water. men are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. [in-dream] non-consensual behaviour. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. small wounds inflicted by fire. blackmail. binds and knifes. SMUT 18+ ONLY, MDNI - p in v sex. oral (f receiving). no condom (this isn't the 18th century. wrap it before you tap it). choking. thigh riding. jealous!eddie.
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Chapter 9: Paragon
“Perhaps the wolf wasn't quite so dangerous as he pretended. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out for sure——give him a little rope and see if he hung himself… And pray that he didn't tie her up with it instead.”
― Sabrina Jeffries, Dance of Seduction
He looked like he saw a ghost. And maybe he had. You didn’t feel like yourself, so who was to say if you were still alive? You had comprehended how you carried yourself back to the Hellfire. Standing in his room felt like you were looking down at yourself. Aware of everything around you but understanding none of it.
‘I thought you had left.’ He stepped into the room, leaving the door wide open. As he walked, you noticed he was clearing the way for you, allowing you to leave if you wanted to. His eyes were intently focused on yours and threaded lightly. Like any wrong move would cause you to disappear.
‘I wanted to,’ you admitted. You still wanted to. Your thoughts had screamed through the night for an escape. Yet, something tied you down to this ship and made you return.
‘Then why didn’t you?’ He came closer, and so did you. That string pulled at your ribs again, pulling you two closer. You had tried long enough to fight it to no avail. Whatever you thought you wanted did not compare to your subconscious need to be next to him. 
‘I don’t know.’ Deep down, you knew the reason, but the time was not there yet to admit it. In your mind, you still despised everything about him, this ship, the crew, and, therefore, yourself for needing his touch as much as you did at this moment. It was weak to give in to him like you did.
The candle’s light fell upon him at angles that brought something new out in him or maybe revealed what had always been there. The signs of the wear and tear of a life at sea. He wasn’t hiding it any more, letting all that pain be visible, and he looked beautiful. You held back from reaching out and tracing the thin scar against his brow or the flawed line of his nose that must have been broken once. The longer you looked at him, the more you realised that you could look at him in this way forever. 
And that scared you. 
Munson walked past you to his desk, occupying himself with whatever he could reach. It would have been good for you to have something to focus on instead of him, but you stood in the middle of the room with nothing but him to clutch onto. Neither of you spoke, stuck in an awkward limbo, tiptoeing around one another to see who would be the first to step over that line. The line that had kept you, your heart, safe until now. You could impossibly predict what was to happen if it was crossed.
The ship creaked as the tide softly bounced off it. For the rest, it was uncharacteristically quiet on board.
‘Is the rest coming as well? Will we be departing soon?’ It was ridiculous to change the topic in this manner, but you simply did not know what else to say, and this barrier between you and him was dreadful. You could sense it in the middle, waiting for that catalyst to burst. And you wanted it to. Just how?
‘No, I doubt they realised I’ve gone.’ He finally turned back to face you, leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes on the ground. If he could just look at you—would that make things easier or that much harder?
‘Why did you? Leave the tavern, I mean.’ With your heart pounding in your throat, tightening your breath, you stepped toward him. 
‘I noticed you were gone. Then I heard you had gone to the harbour with some man and I thought…. I grew worried.’
‘Why?’ You could not imagine him caring for you to go out, away from his crew and his festivities, to look for you. 
‘I know what you’re thinking, and at first, yes, I was thinking about the money,’ he admitted, which took you aback. You took a step closer. ‘But then I—when I realised, or thought, that I had actually lost you, I thought about how I would never see you again, and I realised—’ his words faded as you took your final step towards, letting your chest press against his. He finally let his eyes meet yours. 
‘Realised what?’ Considering your proximity and seclusion, you hadn’t meant to whisper, but it felt right. 
‘That I was scared’ His breath was shaky as his eyes took all of you in. ‘Of loosing you.’
‘I was scared too.’ And maybe that is what kept you from leaving. The idea that if you would go, there was a possibility that you would never see him again, and it was enough to hollow out your entire being with dread. It felt wrong. But that gnawing in your chest stayed there the whole night, even when you had returned to the Hellfire, and it only left once you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. A flutter of a touch at the fingertips.
‘And? Are you still scared?’ He matched your hushed tone with his response. The question was simple on its surface, but only the facade for an obliterating iceberg was the truth. 
‘No.’ Standing in front of him, feeling his breath on you, the warmth that radiated off him, his gentle touch on your skin, seeing the smile hiding in his features, you saw nothing to be scared of anymore. There was nothing to fear anymore. The voice in you that had screamed for help all those days was silenced for a final time when you leaned in to kiss him.
His lips were chapped, cheeks rough with scars and the light shadowy scruff of a beard. His touch was featherlight, as if he was scared to pursue it as if you were to break underneath him. It starkly contrasted the force he had pulled you in with hours before. The intensity had been dizzying, and yet this was what genuinely shut your mind down entirely. But you could tell that he was not there yet wholly. Something kept him guarded. 
You pulled away, but your lips still shared the same breath. When you opened your eyes, you were met with his and how they were shaking with uncertainty as he took all of you in. 
‘Is there something you’re still afraid of?’ you asked.
‘Many things,’ his hand found its place on your waist, ‘but mostly of myself,’ and gently pushed you away. ‘And what I will do to you. I have made so many mistakes, mistakes that hurt you, already in that I will have to live it for my eternity, but I do not know what I will do if I make one again.’ 
There was silence as you took in his words. You understood them, possibly more than anyone could, for they were yours. As your lips met, you thought if what you were doing would lead to your doom, if it would all end in a disaster, but could something that felt so right be so devastating?
He had let his eyes fall to the ground. You reclaimed the one step he had made you take, closing the gap between you once more and letting your hand guide him to look up at you.
‘Do you think that kiss was a mistake?’ Your heart beat faster than it ever had as you waited for an answer, but his lips remained shut, so you continued. ‘If so, do not play with my heartstrings, but tell me, and I will leave. I will return to my cell, and you can lock me up and never see me again until you bring me back home.’ It would only be a couple of days, and it would hurt to mend this extremely fragile piece of you that you had just opened, but like all wounds do, it would heal eventually.
‘Answer me, captain.’ You kept your voice as steady as possible, regaining the confidence you had built up since you got onto the ship. ‘Was that a mistake?’
‘No.’ And with that one final word, you both leaned in for a kiss. Your hand was still on his cheek, his holding you tightly, but you still felt that urge to pull yourself closer to him. As you felt the press of his chest fully against yours, he actually pulled his lips away from yours. He hesitated but finally spoke against the corner of your mouth. ‘But… call me Eddie. Please.’ 
You couldn’t help but smile into your next kiss. Just like that, all that weight of the world fell off both your shoulders, down into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. You didn’t hold back with this newfound freedom when you pushed him up against the desk. The furniture shuffled with a creak over the floor, and you could hear some things topple over at the impact. Still, neither of you cared, too occupied with one another. He could just about manage to extend his hand and begin to push all the loose items off the desk to make space for himself. The papers flew around you, and all the measurement equipment clattered onto the crowd. 
As the kiss intensified, Eddie shrugged and smoothly sat up on the desk, pulling you in with him. As he slowly let himself fall back, you followed, attached by the lips, hands, and hearts, until you practically lay on top, arms keeping you up from falling entirely onto him. Well, one hand, as the other found him and laced your fingers together once more. He had tried to make more space around you, pushing objects aside, when he cursed loudly.
You startled away and saw the clench in his jaw as he took a deep breath. He must have read your panic-stricken face as he showed you his hand. ‘It’s alright,’ his voice was calm, humour peaking through it. ‘I might have just put my hand right into the flame.’ And indeed, the side of his hand was glowing red. 
Hearing this did not put your mind at rest as you tried to grab his hand and inspect the damage more deeply, but he pulled it away from you, instead taking your fingers in his and kissing your knuckles. 
‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ he smiled while kissing your hand, ‘Can barely feel it.’
He had just made direct contact with fire; you doubted it would be alright, but then again, you had seen all the scars on his body. This would just be another small blister among the list of many. But you blinked the thought away. Tried your best to not think about the pain he had endured. You doubted he wanted you to feel pity for him and what had once happened to him. 
The look in his eyes was adamant. He needed you to let it go, so all you could do was sigh.
‘You’ve gone mad.’ 
Eddie chuckled at your comment as he let his lips travel over your wrist, over the length of your arm. ‘As mad as any other sane man.’ His kisses moved over the material of your shirt. The lack of contact that was so clearly there shot sparks of anticipation through you, but he took his time taking you all in until his lips reached your collar. He had practically strained his neck to reach you from his position. Some of you wanted to back away to see how far he would follow you, but your weaker portion gave into his touch and melted over it. 
He had just kissed your neck, sparking a fire through you on the spot, when a noise boomed over the silent ship, bursting you out of the solitary moment of bliss. In an instant, Eddie held you by the hips as he gently pushed you off him and got himself back on the ground. There was an alarm in his features, and so, when he looked at you and told you to “Stay here”, for once, you listened.
He closed the door behind him as he left to see what the noise was, and when minutes later, he had not returned, but there had also not been any more ruckus or signs of danger; you calmed down. Unsure of what to do now, you lay down on the bed. In the past few days, the bed had gotten more comfortable as you got used to it, but it still felt strange. You lay down on your side, facing the wall. The patterns in the wooden planks almost seemed to move in the shadowy light and, unfortunately for you, brought you into a trance of clarity and thoughts.
What were you doing? How could you have let all this happen? Kissing the man that had caused the death of so many people that you had deemed friends. How could you betray their souls by… by falling for him? You had lost control of all your feelings and emotions. 
It was a trick of the sea. You had simply been captured on this ship for so long that you did not know what was wrong or right. How else could you explain the yearning feeling that still circulated through you? Why else did you wish he was still here with you, touching you?
With all these thoughts occupying your mind, you must have missed Eddie walking back into the room, mumbling something about how it had been a few of his crew that stumbled back up to the ship. Too busy with your own mind, you did not hear him calling your name softly, assuming you had fallen asleep and telling you good night. You did not hear how deflated the last words came from his mouth. You only caught the sound of the door closing behind him. 
And soon you managed to turn all these thoughts off and fall asleep. Except then, they came back even stronger and in the form of dreams. You found yourself back on the Red Tail. The hawk flapped its wings on the flag in the wind and every man’s uniform. The sun shone brightly in its last few minutes before hiding behind the horizon. It was a strange illusion as you stared down at the ship and the two figures that stood out looking at the sparkling sea. You watched yourself talking to Admiral Carver.
‘I would have imagined you to have grown tired of the water by now,’ he laughed.
‘I won’t say I will be happy to return home, but I can’t ever see myself becoming tired of this view. It is beautiful.’ You leaned forward onto the balustrade and breathed in the salty air. ‘Besides, you have done this for much longer than I have, and you’re here too, so it can’t be that bad.’ It seemed it was only your first expedition while he had crossed the world several times. If anyone was to grow tired of it, you thought it would be him. 
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he had his arms behind his back, ‘but everything is more bearable when there is something back home to look forward to.’ 
‘I suppose so.’ You would not exactly know what he meant. Of course, you could not wait to see your father again, and your friends, but nothing at home gave you the sense that it genuinely anchored you there or drew your heart in for your return. ‘I am sure you miss your family very much.’
‘Yes, of course,’ He took a step closer to you, ‘but I will miss these moments.’
‘Oh,’ you were startled by his proximity, unsure how to respond. Politely, you smiled and tried to keep the conversation going, ‘I’ve enjoyed them too, uhmm-’, but you were suddenly thrown off-guard when you felt his hands on you. Before he had the chance to do anything, you were quick to push him off. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Taking our last chance before it’s too late.’ He leaned in again, and you stepped back. 
‘What about your–’
‘She does not need to know.’ The sea was a free playing field for most men, so what happened out there was not up to the women at home to know. You had seen adultery but never thought the admiral would participate in such activities. He had been drinking; maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. Before he would make any more mistakes, you attempted to walk away, but he caught you by the arm, putting all his strength into the hold.
‘Admiral, you’re hurting me.’ You tried to pull your arm back, and this is where things began to change. Where the dream made itself apparent. Carver’s handsome features turned into vicious angles as he spoke. 
‘So you’ll kiss Munson, but not me?’ 
‘What- what are you–’ you tried to get away, but it was as if he grew in size. And there were flashes. These flashes of light. Like lightning, there was no thunder, rain, or light. It blinded you, and you tried to regain your sight by blinking, but each time you did so, he seemed to change right in front of you. 
There was him like you knew him, but the next second he turned into this nightmarish version of himself, but there were moments when he wasn’t himself at all. You’d blink, and suddenly you saw Captain Munson. Still in that uniform, however, you would try to make sense of it all. Still, before you could, he would disappear again, and you would be looking into Carver’s blank eyes, and you’d see the blood dripping from his mouth as he spat out his words.
‘Don’t trust him.’
‘What?’ You had tears in your eyes, and your wrist burned from his touch. There was another flash of light. Eddie stood before you again, just as you knew him. 
‘Do not trust him.’
Don’t trust who? Who were you meant to trust, then? The questions rang through you as you woke up, head throbbing with pain, limbs sore and dehydrated. If you did not know any better, you would have blamed the rum you consumed the night before on everything, making you imagine all that had happened. Still, the sensation that Eddie had left on your whole body felt too real to be just a drunken dream or nightmare.
He was not in the cabin when you awoke, but you could hear him outside, yelling commands out. When you looked outside the window, you could tell by how the waves moved that you had departed the Saint Claire harbour and were on your way again.
You sat up in bed but remained still afterwards, uncertain what to do next. Some part of you wanted to go outside and see Eddie, talk to him about whatever it was that had happened that night. Still, a bigger side of you doubted you could ever look him in the eye again. Seeing your reflection from the glass doors of a cabinet in the room, of yourself in his bed, made you feel bad enough. So, staying in the room for the rest of the day was not an option either. You were already at the door, hand on the handle, when it opened, nearly crashing into you. 
‘Sorry,’ his apology was muffled. 
‘I was just on my way out,’ you muttered in the same awkward tone and walked past him. 
‘Wait,’ Eddie reached for you, and the memory of your dream of Carver made you retract away from him, regretting it as soon as you did. Eddie wasn’t him, but you treated him the same because of something your exhausted mind had decided to conjure up. Eddie kept his distance. ‘Can we talk?’
‘Later,’ you pleaded. This was not the right time. You could tell that it would not end well if you stayed there. 
But when would it be right? When would the stars align correctly for you to speak? It certainly wasn’t the next two days, as you kept walking in circles around eachother. You avoided him like the plague, and it was unlikely that he had not noticed yet. 
You kept yourself occupied with anyone else but him, really. Talking to Robin, Steve, and anyone else who seemed to require company as much as you. Almost as much, at least. It shocked you as well as them how smoothly the conversations went. While only a little was exchanged, neither side being too keen on sharing too much of their past, somehow, you still managed to fill hours with polite pleasantries. Some even showed you how to work around the ship, probably more than happy to give you some of their workload now. You didn’t mind. It was alright if it stopped you from overthinking everything that had happened in the past weeks. But it was still hard to do when you felt Eddie’s eyes on you. He’d watch you work the sails or anything else from afar, but when you’d try and catch him, he’d be suddenly occupied with something and walk away. 
The biggest surprise, however, came one evening when everyone had gathered for their final meal of the day. You had gotten your portion and were ready to return to the cabin when Robin pointed to the seat between her and Steve. You wanted to politely decline, feeling like you did not strictly belong in this dynamic—the crew’s meals felt more sacred, a moment for them to spend together, but they all saw your argument coming and shut it down. 
‘Never thought I’d say this,’ Wheeler, one of the lankier crewmates, said at some point, ‘but I might actually miss you.’ There was a cloud of agreeable laughter to which you belonged. It was funny, but what scared you was that you would miss them too when that eventual day of your return home would come. 
And it was coming.
Something about the air around you began to feel more familiar each day. And when you talked to Robin, you could sense that she knew how much time there was left. But each time you asked, she avoided answering straightforwardly. 
‘Not sure. But you know how seatravels are, you can never be sure… I mean, we should have been there days ago and yet,’ she laughed nervously, tying knots in a piece of old rope that someone had cut off once. 
‘I suppose you’re right.’ You had your own piece of rope and were toying with the frayed ends, pulling them apart mindlessly. You could hear Eddie talking to someone somewhere around, and you did your best not to look up. It had been days, but your tension still felt raw and strange. You wanted to simultaneously run into his arms and run away from him as far as possible, and you could not figure out which urge was the right one to follow.
‘It probably won’t take much longer, don’t worry.’ Robin said, her shoulder slumping as she untied another knot to remake it.
‘I’m not worried,’ you admitted. 
‘No, and you don’t need to be,’ Robin panicked, not wanting to give you the wrong impression of what she had intended to say, ‘but I’m sure you’ll be glad to be home.’ To this, you had no response because, very much like in your last days on your old ship, you had been eagerly awaiting your return home but did not feel like you were actually happy to go back. On top of that, you actually had the sense that you would miss this crew. By leaving, you would be leaving something behind, and you had never felt that before.
But it still did not feel right. Like a kink in your neck that you were trying to stretch out until it disappeared.
‘Can I ask you something?’ you said cautiously. 
Robin glanced up from her rope. ‘You always scare me when you say that.’ 
‘I hadn’t noticed I did it often.’ 
‘You’re quite inquisitive. It’s commendable, but dangerous.’
‘Should I be scared?’ You blinked. 
‘Not here, but in other parts of the world they’re not too keen on it, so just beware.’ She had tied a knot she couldn’t loosen anymore. ‘But what was your question?’ 
You took a deep breath. ‘Why did you target the Red Tail? And I know it was targeted, since the captain was aware what ship you were attacking.’ There was that other puzzle piece that was missing in your brain. How would he know if you were supposed to be on that ship or not? 
Robin froze and dropped her rope. You watched it fall to the ground and her reaching to pick it up clumsily. Once she did, she fumbled around even more with it. ‘I’m probably not the best person to ask this; I joined the crew late, I don’t know everything that’s going on around—’ she was getting distracted, losing the point of your question, or so you thought, ‘I had only heard things, but you have to know that people around here, we trust each other and that trust is earned. We might cheat once in a while in a game of cards or dice, but some things you just can’t lie about.
‘So, I didn’t need much convincing from the captain when he said that those— that those were bad men.’
‘He told you that my crew were bad men?’ 
‘They needed to be punished.’ Robin shrugged, but not in the way that made you think she thought indifferent. More so that, there was nothing she could do about it. It was a brief apology to you, not for what they had done, but as if she was sorry for being the bearer of the news. 
‘Punished for what?’ you asked, but Robin shook her head. Right, she wouldn’t be able to know, and you didn’t blame her. Was there anyone around willing to share more of the specifics of this situation? You felt like you had the right to explain what had brought you to their ship, but it would go past some lines of comfort for the men. Could you dare ask Eddie? 
But to ignore him for days just to come up with these questions could not be appreciated; then again, he owed you at least this after being the sole reason for your presence on this ship in the first place. He had caused all this mess. He could at least help you clean it up. 
You finished your conversation with Robin slowly, without any urgency to actually put it to an end. It must have been confusing to Robin, who saw how you tried to tie your sentences up to walk away, just to disentangle them just as she had been doing with her rope and keep pulling it back. Ultimately, she stopped it all and excused herself from the argument she needed back on her lookout post. She walked away, giving you this look that made it clear to you that she knew what you were planning to do and how apprehensive you were to do it. And whatever for? You had fought, punched, slapped and kissed Eddie in the past days without hesitation; why could you not just talk to him now?
Because that would actually mean something to you. It would unblur all the lines that connected you into a clear pattern, and you would have to live with those results, and you just were not ready for that yet. 
You took deep breaths as you walked up to the captain’s quarters. The door creaked as it slid open but was met with a resistant force as you collided with Eddie. He grunted lightly at the impact, and you began to apologise. 
‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, not expecting him to be so close suddenly. You had hoped to catch him at his desk, where the furniture could keep some kind of barrier between you. Still, now he stood mere inches away, towering over you and the heat of his body radiating onto yours. 
‘I was just on my way out.’ He scratched his beard casually, but his eyes said enough about how similarly he felt about your sudden appearance.
‘I hoped we could talk,’ you blurted out, and Eddie blinked.
‘Talk? Now?’ To this, you only nodded shyly. It had been too long. You had made him wait for days, which was simply too long. Why would he want to listen to what you had to say now? Eddie was ready to brush past you, but you were quicker, catching his arm and pulling eachother closer until your lips met in a chaste kiss. The suddenness stunned him, but for a blink of an eye before his muscles melted into position around you. It only confirmed your worst thoughts, how perfectly the two of you fit together, how your bodies simply locked into place with one another. The heat that grew between you could not only be felt by you. It was too strong for that. As much as you did not want to admit it, there was something there that you did not want to lose.
‘I’m sorry, ‘you said breathlessly, ‘for everything I’ve done in the past few days.’
‘You have done nothing to apologise for.’ He sighed.
‘Exactly,’ you jumped back at how loud you sounded. Still, his pull on your waist kept you close, ‘I have done nothing, while I should have stayed here with you, and we should have talked of, of whatever it is that stands between us, but—but I was scared. I thought I hadn’t been, but I was, and that, in turn, scared me even more, so I thought I needed time to think—’ 
‘And did you?’ He looked down at you inquisitively like he was observing a strange, yet highly fascinating, phenomenon in front of him. Something that he should not be enjoying as much as he was. The unwanted smirk appeared on his lips no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It made you aware of just how much you had tried to say in what short of an amount of time.
‘Yes,’ you said with a slow breath to help you calm down. At this, Eddie simply reacted with a gesture telling you to go on, to tell him what kind of discovery you had made. Would it be anything that could help your conundrum? Clear things up in your heads and maybe even hearts? You could not be sure, but it was a start if you just let those parts of you speak freely.
You took one more deep breath. ‘That night you asked me if I was scared, and I said “no”, but…’ you pushed past the shake of your voice. ‘But I realise now that that wasn’t the truth.’ As you announced this, the hand on your waist tightened its grip before leaving your body entirely. The immediate lack of contact made you regret your choice of words. Maybe you should have prepared what to say, but letting it come out unrehearsed and unplanned felt like the right thing to do. It would not cut out any of the emotions you felt. What you wanted him to know that you thought, so you stammered out your following words.
‘There is so much that I am scared of. It scares me how and how much I have changed in the past few days, and I am scared that I do not mind it. It scares me how much I enjoy being here and how much I want to be… with you.’ Your last words faded as you had not expected to hear yourself say them out loud. Eddie, who you had watched as he walked around the room in slow paces as he listened, must not have expected them, too, for he stopped to stare at you, dumbfounded.
‘Why?’ was the only thing he said in response. 
‘Because…’ you let out an exasperated sigh, walking up to him. You had somehow managed to find yourselves at his throne, ‘because this is not who I am supposed to be. I shouldn’t be. You are you; I am me, and nothing here is right.’ Yet the puzzle had never fit tighter together than it did now. But at the same time… ‘As much as I want to spend my days with you, I cannot stop thinking about all the chaos you have caused in my life. Whether on purpose or not…There is blood on your hands, Eddie.’ there were tears in your eyes. Eddie looked down at his hands as if you had meant it literally. They were pale and had a shake to them, but he quickly put them down to his sides.
‘And yet you’re still here.’ He said it with a distance, more to himself than anyone else, narrating the events as if putting it all into words could make it make more sense somehow, and maybe to him, it did. However, you were still utterly clueless and running in the dark.
‘I am.’ You nodded your head lightly. ‘And I wish I could explain why. To you and to myself, but I simply do not know.’
‘Let me pose you these two questions then,’ he spoke sternly, and you got the unexpected feeling that this would be a test you had to ace. ‘Are you still scared of me? Do you regret anything that happened between us?
‘Answer yes to either of my questions,’ he held two fingers up, ‘and I will make all of this very easy for you and disappear. You will never have to see me again but be honest.’ Looking into his eyes the way you were, it was difficult to lie, or it would have been if you had any intention of doing so. The word came easier to you than anything else had in your life, but you still needed to know some things before sealing your fate.
‘Before I answer, I need to know your business with the admiral.’
Eddie scoffed, looking out the window, ‘I could not care less about the admiral.’ Something in him tensed up despite his attempt to make his reply come out casually. Everything besides his eyes, which flickered with so many emotions simultaneously, you could not distinguish between them soon enough.
‘But the attack on my ship was deliberate, was it not?’ You did not need this to become another one of your rows and spoke as carefully as you could manage. If one of you began to raise your voice or fill your words with anger, it would take over the other, exploding fatally in the middle, and that is not what you wanted.
‘What do you remember from that day?’ He looked at you, head cocked to the side as he studied your face. He saw you blink slowly, trying to understand what he was implying.
‘I remember everything.’ How could you not? It was one of the most terrifying days of your life. ‘I remember being on the deck and seeing your dark sails and how I hid under that desk as the canons went off–’ 
‘Whose canons?’ He stared at you blankly, and you mirrored him perfectly. 
‘What?’
‘What canons did you hear go off? Who shot first?’ He did not say anything else, just stood still as you tried to reply with confidence that you lost as soon as you gave your answer some thought.
Everything had happened so quickly, and it was so loud. All you had tried was to block it out. But you heard the bangs. They came from all sides, but the first one... the first one was the closest.
Eddie must have seen the recognition on your face. ‘I know that those people were your friends. And I am sorry that that is how things-’
‘But you said I was not meant to be on board. You knew what ship it was.’ You cut him off at the memory. ‘You would have attacked either way, wouldn’t you?’
‘It is not that simple.’ He shook his head.
‘Isn’t it?’ 
‘No, and I wish I could explain, but I fear that whatever I tell you will only make you see the worst in me and them.’ 
‘You could at least try.’ You reached for his hand, and a bit of you leapt in relief when you saw he did not pull away. ‘I want to understand, Eddie. You do not know how horrible it is to live in this realm of uncertainty and oblivion.’
‘Would you rather live with the horrors of the truth?’ He asked genuinely, with the pain that exactly this truth had caused him in his eyes.
‘Is that not a choice I deserve to make by myself?’ You once again found yourself up against him. Funny how it always came back to this and how you would not have wanted it any other way.
‘You’ve said it yourself; I’ve hurt you enough times. I can not risk doing it again. I will not let myself do that.’ He brushed a strand of hair from your face, brushing his fingers over your cheek. ‘Now, will you please answer my questions?’
‘No,’ and with that, you answered both. Whatever tugged at you from the inside to feel such anxiety had nothing to do with Eddie.
On the contrary, you felt a sense of calm whenever you saw him. And you had wanted, really wanted, to regret those kisses, but you still dreamt of them at night, and it was all with a magical wonder that you wished to experience once more. Despite everything in your life that had led to this that would have told you to turn around and run away, you stayed firmly in your place in front of him with no intention of ever running away again.
Eddie leaned in, and you anticipated a kiss that never came as he spoke against the corner of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. ‘I need you to say it, darling.’
‘I’m not scared of you, Eddie.’ The tremble in your voice had nothing to do with fear but all with the way he held you. His hand had moved down your cheek onto your neck, fingers wrapped around your throat, thumb caressing your jaw. His eyes pierced through you. ‘And I do not regret anything.’
You knew Eddie had seen all the far corners of the world. You must have come across the grandest of riches. Yet standing in front of him, you could not help but think how seeing Captain Eddie Munson beam his most genuine smile was the rarest and most beautiful treasure of them all. It was infectious; you could not help but smile at it. 
He let himself come close again, but just as your lips were about to touch, he spoke instead. Right against you, the hot air of his breath pricked at your skin with his light laugh. ‘Before all of this, had you ever imagined yourself here with me?’
As much as you had wished it was not true, ‘I did, actually.’ Your mind flashed to your dreams, the ones you had once thought were conjured up to plague you, but now you realised it was just your heart screaming out your deepest desires.
Like a reward, Eddie kissed your cheek for your reply. ‘Really? The princess had thought of me, a filthy pirate?’
‘I’m not a princess.’ You rolled your eyes playfully.
‘Out of all the things to dispute, you argue my words of affection?’ He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations deep within his chest. 
‘There was nothing else to correct.’ You wanted to laugh but instead froze at the sensation of Eddie lightly putting pressure on your throat as he was still kissing pieces of your face. Just like that, everything in the past minutes disappeared from your mind. When he pulled away, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that once used to bring out fear of the worst in you.
‘Glad to know you haven’t changed too much, darling.’ With his hand around you, he gave you little choice but to look up at him. There was a moment in which both of you took everything of the other in. You tried to soak in all his features from this small distance, for some reason feeling the need to remember them all. Meanwhile, he read your face for any signs of reluctance, which he found none of. ‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you, princess?’ 
A question which brought a lot of enjoyment out of him.
Still taken aback by his actions, you stood there with your lips slightly parted, bewildered, so all you did was nod. And again, your response was rewarded with another kiss, finally letting you meet his lips while tightening his hold on you.  The weak sound that came out of your mouth at the feeling was an instinct. You had never heard yourself make such a sound, and he must have known it somehow as his grin grew wider against you. 
The kiss grew in strength by the fleeting second as you both lost control over your bodies, just letting them speak for themselves. It was messy and heated. The pent-up tension that had been sitting between you was finally finding its release. Eddie’s hands roamed over your body, almost in a hunger-like manner, devouring you with his touch alone. Maybe this hunger felt too real when Eddie’s teeth grazed over your neck, sending an unknown spark through your body at the sensation.
You held onto him tightly, one hand on his shoulder as the other rooted itself in his dark locks—which made you soon realise that the tiniest of motions of you caused a reaction in him as well, in the form of a low hiss as you pulled the hairs on the back of his neck. It had been an accident, as you tried to keep yourself up when the pleasure he brought you made you feel light as a feather.
Eddie hummed at your response as his hands continued their wandering path across your body. The pressure of his palms, combined with the slow and tantalising pace at which he moved, drove you to press your body eagerly against him, which, in turn, only spurred him on to continue down this track of your curves. His movements got rougher as he kept going.
With your urge to keep your bodies close, you quickly caught on Eddie walking backwards. You followed him mindlessly until he found his throne seat and pulled you along with him, right on top of his lap. At this proximity, you could feel all of him underneath you.
‘Tell me,’ he kissed you briefly between words, ‘have you ever been with a man before?’
‘Yes,’ you dared to reply with the truth. Anywhere else, it would have been considered a great shame, a sin of the highest degree, but with Eddie, somehow, you felt like he had wanted that to be your answer. You tried to focus on his face, that smile he shot up at you and the short answer you gave him, instead of how his hands roamed over your thighs. Even with the fabric of your trousers in between, his effect on you was immense. He must have felt how you tensed up when he reached your core. 
‘Did anyone ever touch you like this?’ 
‘Uhm, no, not in this way.’ You struggled with the words as he let his fingers press over your most sensitive parts, everywhere all at once. You could barely keep track of it. Another moan escaped you as his hand moved over your breast. Even with the fabric keeping your modesty intact, he had still found a way for his fingers to move smoothly across your nipples. The feeling lulled you into comfort, brewing the heat inside your chest. And so, you gasped as, with one aggressive pull, Eddie ripped the material of your shirt in two, revealing you to him entirely. Your eyes were wide in shock as his darkened with want.
‘Not scared of me yet, are you, princess?’ His hand was on your ribs, waiting for permission to touch your bare skin. 
‘No,’ your voice sounded like a hushed, airy whisper. Eddie smiled but still hesitated with his subsequent actions. As the shirt sleeve fell off your shoulder, he kissed you again. Except this time, his lips met your breast. The arch in your back, the tug of your hips towards him, was an almost mechanised reaction to it. And with it came the friction of his thigh against you. 
‘Eddie.’ His name sounded shaky coming from you as you could barely inhale a steady breath, too occupied with him.
‘That’s right, princess.’ He groaned as his lips remained on your skin, kissing the valley of your chest. With each kiss, your want for him grew, but your movements over his thigh barely covered the needed friction. You dug your nails into his shoulders, making him groan out in pained pleasure. He cursed before taking you by the hips. ‘Stand up.’
You did as he asked, something that did not go unnoticed by either of you. Eddie chuckled as he looked up at you, chin on your stomach, lips nearly pressing against it, so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice. 
‘So you can be good for me.’
A snide remark was already forming on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie was quicker. Smoothly, he pulled down your trousers and let them pool at your ankles. You stood in front of him in only your torn-up shirt. His large eyes were on you up until the moment his face made contact with your core, and at that moment, everything went black. You could just about make out that you held him close to you, pulling at his hair; as for the rest, the world was turning upside down and around at a speed that made everything seem like a sea full of stars. Your moans filled the room as his tongue licked through your slit. 
You assumed that with how he held you with one hand, his fingers would leave marks for days, but the other was much lower. You could hear the sound of a belt unbuckling. He was clearly struggling to work around his clothes with only one hand, especially with most of him already preoccupied with you and your pleasure. Never before had you seen such kind of ferocity in a man. Not when he pulled himself closer to you and practically fell to his knees from the throne. You surely would have fallen back if it had not been for him and the desk that hit your legs and now acted as an extra grip. It was especially needed when Eddie pulled your leg over his shoulder, gaining even more access to you. 
The desk kept sliding back with the force at which he held you in your place, grazing the floor, but it was all blocked out by your moans. They were filled with curses and the repetition of his name as your vision blurred with ecstasy and your body tightened with need. There was no possible way that the rest could not hear you through the thin walls of the cabin, but you could not care less about them. At this moment, they simply did not exist. 
‘You taste absolutely divine.’ Eddie spoke while kissing your inner thigh, making your legs even weaker. You noticed his lips glistening, never looking more kissable than ever before. 
He had run your mind through a mill; words were hard to come by. All you could muster out was a weak hum as you let your hand brush through his hair. At that, he nuzzled himself between your legs again, this time much gentler, and took his time kissing every inch of skin he had access to, giving you the time to catch your breath while still keeping you on that high edge.
‘I—I never…’ you still struggled to form a sentence.
‘Hmm,’ he kissed your stomach, ‘I know.’ And he slowly rose to his feet, catching your face in one more passionate kiss. You had gotten so used to how he tasted—rum, tobacco, sea air— that your flavour threw you off for a moment, but soon enough, you were sinking into him just as before. And again, you could hear the struggling twinkle of a locked belt buckle. 
‘Would you be a doll,’ he said with his amusement running down your cheek, ‘and help a poor man out.’
You reached for his trousers, undoing the belt and unbuttoning them so they could drop down his thighs. You had felt it before, how aroused he had grown, but seeing it made you take a step back. 
‘Nothing to be afraid of, darling.’ He grinned, placing a hand on your cheek. The other made itself comfortable between your legs, toying with your wetness. 
‘I know.’ You looked into his eyes. The warmth of them had burned up into a dark and hungry desire. Putting a light pressure onto his shoulders, you pushed him back down into the chair. Eddie practically bounced in the seat, taking you all in as much as you took the moment to look at him. Your flicker of confidence in the moment when you thought you knew what you were doing fizzled, but he must have read that off of you, as the next second he was the one pulling you down. 
‘Was this how you expected it to be,’ he murmured against your ear, ‘when you thought about us.’ 
‘No,’ you admitted. It was nothing like you had imagined. All your dreams had been of what you had thought he was; careless, dangerous, feeding off your fear. There had been none of this passion that you felt now. None of the heat, the tenderness or the feeling.
‘Anything you’d still like to change,’ he kissed the soft spot of skin behind your ear that made you shiver. 
‘No,’ you gasped. You could feel him against you, just waiting for the moment to enter you. The two of you were dancing around it, letting other make that next move, the plunge off the cliff, with no return. You shuffled over his thighs. One more kiss would seal the final deal when you moved your hips up and he adjusted himself infront of you.
The moan you let out at the feeling of him inside you, of him stretching your walls and filling you whole, was impossible to miss. Ships from miles away could probably tell what was going on, but again, they were not a part of your universe in this moment. Just you. You concentrated at the pace he was making you keep up with. The roll of your hips against the grind of his. Each thrust went deeper and harder making Eddie more aggressive in the most blissful of ways. There was nothing else to think about, because why would you when this felt so good? Reality went lost on you, until you felt his fingers dig into your side, a pain rushing through you. 
Both of you froze.
‘What’s wrong?’ Eddie immediately looked to where he had held you, pulling the remaining pieces of your shirt up to reveal the scar. The rough skin was a stark contrast to the rest of you. He met your eyes again. ‘Does it still hurt?’
‘It’s just sensitive.’ You wanted to push his hand away, cover the mark up again so neither of you had to be reminded of it. It had been a stupid mistake, that much you knew, and it was not as if you could change the past, so why let it pester you? But Eddie was not the kind to give up easily. He pushed the shirt material back up, keeping your hand away from him, to inspect the damage he had caused. 
‘I’ve done a lot in my life that I will forever regret,’ he kissed your shoulder as his thumb traced over the scarred line, ‘but this will probably haunt me the longest.’ His words and touch, combined with how you sat in his lap, still full of him, got you lost for words. Because, of course, you had hoped that this was his sentiment, you understood and appreciated his words, but what else was there to say? The only thing you could think of replying, which felt silly to do seeing your current position, was ask for some clarification.
‘What happened? I would have thought you had more control over your sword than that.’ You aired the conversation with a bit of laughter, but it only spurred him on to thrust deeper into you.
 ‘I had thought so too,’ he kept moving his hips forcefully, ‘I had hoped so,’ he kissed you sloppily, ‘but I lost it all when I saw you with him.’
‘Who?’ you asked. Maybe under different circumstances, you could have thought more clearly to realise what he was speaking of, but that did not seem possible. 
‘Harrington,’ the name came out of him with a bitter taste. Apparently, the feelings from that day had not disappeared as far as he had thought, but now he could let these frustrations out in a less hazardous manner. It still took a toll on you, but there was no pain to speak of. Just pure pleasure. 
Still, the mention of the crew member had surprised you. ‘Why– why would you—’
‘The way he held you, smiled at you, don’t you think I had wanted to do that? From the moment I saw you—but all I did was drive you away. It was just another reminder of my failure and before I knew it I—’ he stopped himself, still unable to properly speak of what happened. You kissed the bridge of his nose. 
‘For what it’s worth,’ you tugged at the words to come out cohesively, ‘I never thought of him as—’
‘It does not even matter what you think of him,’ he laughed, more so at himself, ‘You could fall for and by happy with any man on this earth and I could make my peace with it. I just don’t want to be the reason for your suffering.’
‘I think—’ a moan burst through your thought with another deep thrust, ‘I think you have managed to pay back any of your wrongdoings.’
‘Oh, darling, I haven’t even started to repay my debts.’ And so, Eddie kissed your neck, over and over, and with those kisses moved down to your brest. Your head rolled back with a soft whine at the attention he gave you, if not with his mouth, than the hand that kneaded your flesh and played with your nipples. 
As he kept going, and as your hips met his and the pleasure burst through you, you could feel everything coming to a close. The tightness in your body swelled while your control over it strayed. There was no possible way you could hold on for much longer and from the looks of it, Eddie had no plans on making you wait. He bucked his hips into you harder and harder, almost impossibly for you to keep it all in. You could explode with this pleasure and that is exactly what he wanted.
‘Mmm c’mon, princess. Feel so good around me,’ he hummed, ‘could anyone make you feel this good?’ 
‘Just you,’ you moaned out, holding tightly on to him as you felt the tension build up in you. 
‘That’s right,’ he had a smug smile across his face that you wished you could wipe off, and you would if you did not need him to keep doing whatever it was he did. Were his fingers back between your legs? Rubbing tight circles, sparking up your sensitivity. ‘Just me.’
‘Just you, Eddie,’ his named squeaked out from between your teeth when he reached the deepest part of you.
‘I’ll never get enough of you saying my name.’ 
‘Eddie,’ you repeated it in in a haze with his final thrusts that finally brought you over the edge. Stars fell over you in pleasure as Eddie slowed down his movements, letting you come down from the high. He held you tightly in his arms as you let your head fall on his shoulder until you fell into a comfortable silence. There was only the rush of the waves and your tired breaths that filled your ears.
Once your heart settled back to a steady pace, you knew it wasn’t safe. As good as this moment felt, it wouldn’t last. Whatever this was, there was no possibility in which it would outlive this voyage. Then, once it was over, it would hurt. That much you knew. Possibly more than anything had hurt before, and you would just have to be on the lookout for that end until then to let yourself become at peace with it. There wasn’t another choice, as this idea always stayed with you in the back of your head from that moment on. When you fell asleep in Eddie’s arms that night, you thought how many more days you got to wake to in such bliss as you did the next morning.
You could not tell if Eddie had these troubles, you could not tell, for he went through his following days much like before. The only difference was that his free minutes were now occupied with you.
It had not been your intention to make it so obvious to the crew, but there was also so little you could hide from them. Nothing could escape the dozens of interested eyes, so why hide your affection towards their captain? He certainly was not making any attempts. Any chance he got, he found himself at your side, holding you, kissing you, then behind closed doors, do all the other unspeakable things to you that made the others turn green of envy. 
Your mornings and afternoons were much the same as they had been before the night of the storm and the Hellfire’s arrival at Saint Claire, as you still spent it in each other's company. The difference was now that instead of being separated by the large oak desk, Eddie would often pull you into his lap to sit in the throne, if not making himself comfortable with you on the bed. The nights began with kisses and limbs tangled with eachother and merged into a joined slumber. Unfortunately, as happy as your days felt, it would not stop the nightmares from coming, but each time you would awake in a cold sweat or with shaking hands, he would be right there to coax you back to peace. What surprised you, however, was that you would do the same to him. 
Somehow, the thought of the notorious captain waking up screaming in the middle of the night, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear, had never occurred to you. You had never imagined him reaching for your thigh to ground himself as his reality spiralled in the dark.
‘Shh,’ you held him tightly, ‘it’s okay.’ 
Neither of you asked what the dreams were about, knowing you could do nothing about them. You could just help the other through it. And then, each time, the dreams that followed were much sweeter. 
Then you’d wake up in each other’s arms long before the rest of the world seemed to. Those few blissful moments where nothing could disturb you and the time you could spend in that bed was endless. 
Except it very much was not. And you realised it exactly through what you thought would be your escape. 
It was a sunny morning. The golden sunrays illuminated the cabin as you reached for Eddie, just to find the side of the bed to be empty. Only his impression in the covers, the faint temperature his body had radiated onto them, was still there. It could not have been long since he had gotten up, and indeed, you caught him standing at the window—leaning against it, more like. His trousers were loose on his hips, and his shirt was still on the ground around you. 
Grabbing that shirt and throwing it over your naked body, you walked over to him, and he looked in your direction as soon as he heard your footsteps. The smile in his eyes was genuine but weak. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into an embrace, twirling you around so your back would hit his chest and you could look out at the sea. With how the sunrays sparkled across the waves, it all felt like a dream, too good to be true, but you did not know yet that the dream was at the end of its tether.
‘I really am sorry,’ he mumbled, having his face already nuzzled in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where it met your shoulder.
‘What for?’ Apologies had become a frequent appearance in his vocabulary, showing up in almost every conversation, if not sentence.
‘You know.’ Yes, you did know. For everything. He held a moment of silence, enjoying your presence in his arms for a little longer, before speaking again. ‘I just keep thinking about how everything between us happened, and if it had not been for me, we could have had more.’
‘I’m just as guilty.’ You had been stubborn, aggressive, and just as blind to your feelings. 
‘Highly doubtful statement.’ He laughed, and his breath tickled the hairs on your neck.
‘I don’t think so.’ You shrugged in his hold.
‘Still just as stubborn, aren’t you, princess.’ He squeezed you tighter. 
‘Is that not one of my most desirable attributes?’ You spun yourself around in his hold and quickly wrapped your arms around him. Doing so, hearing his tone and joy in his  voice, you had expected to see him smiling, but he looked just as sombre as when you had walked up to him. ‘What’s wrong?’ Your hand mindlessly began to trace over the scars on his chest, knowing it brought comfort to both you and him by now.
Eddie shook his head, holding back a laugh. ‘You know…’ he kissed your forehead,  ‘when I woke up, I saw you lying there, with the sun shining on your face, and you looked so peaceful, I had honesty considered just locking you away and keeping you forever, but I am a man of my word, am I not?’
‘I…don’t understand.’ You tried to see the meaning behind his words in his eyes, but there was nothing, and it only got harder to figure out when he held his forehead against yours, keeping you close. You still tried to make sense of what he said when you saw it. There, in the far back corner of your eye. So far, it could have been a play of light, and yet it was more real than anything. So undeniably real it crushed everything around you without question. 
From the angle the ship stood at, that was as much as you could envision through the windows, and thus you ran out of the room. As much as you did not want to leave Eddie behind, knowing it could be one of the last moments the two of you had, you ran out onto the deck to meet the silhouette of mountains against the rising sun. The longer you looked at it, the clearer the details became. The ridges of the mountains, the forests, the watch towers and houses. The uniformed ships that stood in the harbour.  
You knew this day was coming, you had been waiting for it, and yet, now that it was right there in front of you, you wished to be as far from it as possible. In what must have been shock, you took a couple of steps back just to collide with something—someone. You turned around to see Eddie and his soft but sad smile.
‘Welcome home,’ he announced.
Home, sweet home.
Your head turned between him and the land in the too-near distance, waiting for one of them to disappear, maybe even both. Why was this so difficult for your mind to comprehend? Why were the first words to come from your mouth, ‘Can we turn back?’ 
‘As much as I would want to,’ he sighed, ‘I’m sure they’ve noticed us by now.’ They must have. The watchers in those towers had the eyes of hawks, one of the reasons why your town was named after the bird.
‘So, what do we do?’ This is not how someone who is to be returning to their family after months spent with criminals was meant to respond. Everything about this was so wrong.
‘Go put your dress on.’ Eddie cocked his head back to the cabin. ‘I doubt they will appreciate you wearing this, as much as I adore it on you.’ That is when you realised you stood out on the main deck wearing only his shirt. ‘I’ll meet you in a few minutes.’ And with that, he gave you that look he had given you all those times before when you had been too headstrong in your own actions. Please, listen to me. It will be alright.
You walked back, feeling like you were floating, but not anywhere near the same way that you had the previous few days. It did not feel like you were weightless, on a cloud, free of worry or from the world. You were drifting. Far out into the abyss with nothing to hold on to. In this same state, you walked over to the wardrobe, where you had hung your dress, removed the item of clothing you had on and put on the old and tethered garment. It had once fit you like a glove, but you were far from the person it was measured for.
Just as you finished putting it on, the door opened, and Eddie walked in. 
You didn’t want to look at him. Not because of anger, you had, after all, no reason to be angry at him at that moment, but because you were sure that if you looked into those brown irises again, you would break down. He must have had the same idea as you as he walked past you, only grabbing the nearest shirt off the rack, and making a headway to the desk.
‘What are you going to do now?’ After all, that had been what pulled you two together, the money your father would offer for your return. That is what kept you on this ship safe for as long as it did… although, in retrospect, you doubted that Eddie would have ever done anything to you. Maybe he had always intended to bring you home before even speaking to you. Perhaps the money made no difference. But funnily enough, you wanted him to get it. Something in you, a deep instinct, told you that it was what he deserved.
‘Write a random note,’ he said, and you could see he was doing his best not to laugh. ‘Then we’ll send the note out, hope it reaches your dearest, and we’ll make the exchange.’ His words were quick and emotionless, but you noted the hint of novice apprehension in his plan.
‘You’ve never done this before, have you?’ you asked as you made your way up to the chair across from him.
‘Try not to sound too disappointed over my lack of experience in selling beautiful maidens back to their prosperous fathers.’
‘Not at all,’ you shook your head, grabbing the piece of parchment and quill from him. ‘But let me. It will be proof of life, and besides, your handwriting is unrecognisable. He won’t be able to read any of it.’ 
Eddie stared at you blankly as you began writing. 
Dear father, 
But what were you to write? The ink dripped off the quill as you pondered on the words. For a message that was quite clear, it was hard to actually phrase it and write it out. By the time you had signed your name at the bottom of the page, the Hellfire had almost reached the coast. You read it through once more: 
Dear Father, 
I know it has been a long time since you last heard from me. The Red Tail is no more; I was the only survivor, to my knowledge, saved by a crew of rogue sailors. They have kept me locked away but are willing to free me for the price of 5.000 pounds. Please meet me at noon at the Star Port for the exchange.
Love, 
Your daughter, 
You had decided against the mention of piracy or anything specific about the ship’s sinking, knowing that it would only drive your father away from pain the ransom. Eddie had been unable to keep still while you wrote your drafts but now stood behind you, hands on the backrest of your chair, reading the note along with you, over your shoulder.
‘Who would have thought, my darling extorting her own father.’
‘I am doing no such thing!’ You looked up at him, ‘I am simply… aiding you in extorting my father.’ when it came to this, you had little sympathy for your father. He had plenty of money to spare and often spent it on ridiculous causes. A faux rescue of his only daughter could surely fit in between those other purchases.
There was a knock on the door, which Eddie welcomed, and Harrington walked in. 
‘Got any mail for me to deliver, cap?’ it had been unanimously agreed that Harrington was the most inconspicuous of the whole crew and would be able to walk through the city unbothered to deliver the message. 
You had just been in the middle of folding the parchment. The last thing left was to let the wax melt to keep the corners together. With the seal done, you handed Steve the letter. He smiled at you with thanks, but his face hid an expression of loss, almost. A farewell. But before he left, you clutched him in an embrace, almost knocking Steve over.
When the door closed behind him, it was only a matter of waiting. After your fifth round of pacing through the room, Eddie walked up in front of you, blocking your already quite well-outlined route. He had met you right in the middle. 
‘I would prefer if you did not spend our last moments together walking holes into my carpet.’ 
‘You do not have a carpet,’ you quipped. 
‘Must you be so difficult now?’ He laughed that laugh you cherished so much before he placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you the way you adored even more. The sun was almost at its peak, and so was your heart, and you had no idea what to do when it would finally fall. Either way, you would find out in a few minutes.
‘Do you think—’ 
‘Highly doubtful,’ Eddie said somberly before you could even finish your thought. ‘You had said it yourself, darling; you are you, I am me. This is not meant to work.’ But what if it could, you wanted to shout, shocking yourself for the millionth time on board this ship.
‘Well, then it had been an honour being your captive, captain.’ You said with a deep breath to keep your composure up.
‘Oh, don’t look so sad just yet, princess, the real fun is only about to begin.’ At this statement, you blinked slowly. ‘Or did you think you were done aiding me?’
‘What else do you need me to do?’ 
‘Since you mentioned it, I think we need to make you look the part of my sweet captive. Make your father believe we really had kept you all good and locked up, hmm?’ He grinned. ‘I really did not do a good job at this, did I? Got you all spoiled up here.’
‘It was much appreciated.’ You giggled, incapable of keeping a straight face when Eddie got like this. Looking back, you could barely imagine the cold and dark exterior that he had once posed in front of you since he had been an entirely different person underneath that. Then again, so were you. ‘So, what did you have in mind?’
‘A lot,’ he licked his lips, ‘but I don’t think we have the time for that. We’ll probably have to do with tying you up like a pretty gift—just your hands, of course,’ he quickly added as he saw your eyes widen. ‘And I’ll be sure to not make it too tight.
‘Alright,’ you nodded. After all, you trusted him. You watched him look through the room for something to wrap around your hands. In the end, he found a piece of rope hanging among the many items on his wall. It was a bit too long for even the intricate, but relatively weak, knot he tied over your wrists—enough to give the impression of captivity, but in reality, barely grazed your wrists. He made sure to check. 
And then it was time. You walked out of the cabin for the final time. The room in which you had spent so many tumultuous days and nights. A silly part of you wanted to actually run down the ladder into the lower deck to see the holding cell one last time. For what reason, you could not fathom. 
Eddie guided you with a hand on your back, down the gangplank, which wobbled with every step you took. You tried to keep your breathing under control, but then again, if this had been a real threat to your life, you would probably feel similarly. The walk down the harbour was the longest of your life. There just came no end to it, and you could not, frustratingly enough, make your mind up if you wanted that or not. After all, each step closer to the port was one step further away from him… and when had you become so dependent on him? Weeks ago, you had thought up visions of killing him in his sleep; now, you could not think of life without him. 
Your thoughts were still fighting for some kind of cohesion when you saw him walk down the street. Accompanied by his usual entourage of guards. Two of them carried a large trunk between them, which must have been filled with gold or other treasures to meet the demand.
‘Papa!’ You screamed out; an incautious urge to run towards him propelled you forward, just to be pulled back by Eddie. You glanced his way, and your breath hitched at what you saw. In the short amount of time that might have felt like an eternity that it took you to walk down the harbour, he had turned into what you could only describe as his old self. The same version of him that you had seen when you were “welcomed’ aboard the Hellfire. The Eddie that terrorised your nightmares. His eyes were pointed like daggers at your father. 
He, in turn, stood aback at the sight of who had been holding you. Most of the men around him did, in fact. It caused a bit of a stir, the murmur of his name travelled in disbelief, but Eddie was the first to speak up in full volume.
‘Governor. I see we meet again.’
‘Munson.’ Your father always had the skill to look unimpressed at the sight of any man, always seeming to be above them, and even now, he did a good job hiding any other emotion, but you could see the crack of fear breaking him on the edges. It was, however, quickly replaced as he spoke in his usual tone of business.
‘Munson. What are you doing here?’
‘Why, returning your precious jewel, of course.’ He grinned, pulling you closer to him. Some of the guards leapt forward but were stopped by your father and Eddie, who reached for the knife at his side. All eyes were on you and him as he let the blade slowly track over your arm. ‘Don’t wanna do that, gents. It will only cost us more trouble.’ 
‘You got the gold, Munson, now let her go!’ There were still several feet between the two sides of the deal. Eddie looked around theatrically. 
‘Do I?’ He cocked his head in his own direction. The two men in charge of the trunk hauled it over to you. You had no idea how Eddie was meant to carry it back to the ship. As they brought the gold over, your father spoke again. 
‘Is she well? Unharmed?’ 
You nodded, but Eddie nudged you with the hilt of his knife, his lips against your ear, ‘C’mon, darling, the man’s asked you a question.’
‘I am fine, father.’ You spoke. By that point, the men reached you and, with a final kiss to your temple, Eddie let you go. You were immediately pulled out of his reach by the guards. They must have thought they were holding you up as your legs objected to moving. You were unable to look away from him. All up until you felt your face pressed against your father’s jacket. 
‘There, there, it is alright,’ he hushed, and it took you a moment to realise why. You were crying. And if only he, or anyone else, understood that it was for all the opposite reasons. No fear or relief was escaping you through those tears. It was a loss as you saw Eddie standing there, bowing down at the end of his performance, blowing you a kiss goodbye.
It was the panic when you saw the rest of the people in the harbour. All of their eyes on you. On him. None of them were simple bystanders or civilians. 
Your dream had been crumbling into ruin all these days, but this was the final blow. All of it came down, all at once, and it started with your father’s call.
‘Guards!’, and suddenly the tenfold of guards appeared out of all possible directions. They had him surrounded, weapons at the ready. Eddie had nowhere to run. Your father spoke clearly, cutting the silence with the blade of his words. ‘Munson, I arrest you on charges of murder and high treason!’ 
Chapter 10
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yelshin · 1 year
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NEW KITTEN?! | MLIST | ♡
An: Rethinking my life decisions rn
Tw/Cw: Scarameow being insecure
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It was a normal day for you and Kuni well not really after he heard a shocking news.
You're gonna adopt another kitten. He was sad because he thinks that you might replace him soon.
If it wasn't for your friends stupid idea you wouldn't have to feel bad be guilty while looking at the sight of your kitten sulking at the corner. 'if i need to take a punishment for hurting his feelings ill gladly take it because i deserve it.' you thought while eyeing his movements.
He rolls on the ground and hit the wall. You immediately stand up and start rubbing circles at his head while he keeps sulking; still thinking about the new kitten that you're gonna adopt "god are you okay? Do you want food? Toys? Anything to cheer you up?" You bombarded Kuni who still didn't answer you nor look at you. But your heart wasn't prepared for what will he pull.
Kuni look at you with those big eyes with his pupil becoming big as if he was begging you to not do something 'OH MY GOD I'M GONNA DIE' You eternally screamed. Trying to avoid his tempting pleading eyes "I swear you're gonna be the death of me..." You grumble, picking him up and grabbed your (empty) wallet.
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"I'm sorry but pets are not allowed-" "Do i look like i CARE?" You glared at the guard who's trying to stop you from bringing Kuni inside the mall "but ma'am im just following the rules-" he keeps on insisting and then you decided to gave up... Well actually the opposite of that. "Fine then." You walked away from the mall and hid beside the building.
"if they don't allow pets, then how about this huh.." you smirked at your silly idea; putting him inside a plastic bag and put some unnecessary light weight items inside and pretend its full of your groceries. "God why am i so smart"
You walked at the building again but this time the guard doesn't care about people entering in the mall 'WOW LATELY HE'S MAKING A SCENE ABOUT BRINGING MY ANGEL IN AND NOW HE DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK IF SOME PEOPLE ENTER WITH THEIR PETS' you glared at the guard before entering the mall; ready to spend everything
"now then for the new kitten, maybe a same treatment with Kuni will do" hearing the word "new kitten" Kuni's head pop out of the plastic bag while looking at you, but you didn't seem to notice the poor kitten.
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Now here you are, standing Infront of the ATM; staring at your bank accounts amount of money. Seeing a low number made you laugh at yourself nervously "haha... Did i spend too much? hahaha..." You scratch your cheek while looking around if thr coast is clear enough for you to pull your black card
'just once...' you thought but you knew that "just once" will turn into amounts of spending. Clearly not just once. "Let's just pray this shit still have money inside after what i did last month"
You checked the plastic bag thinking that Kuni was still inside,but to your horror he wasn't there. You immediately panicked and search the whole bag but still no sight of Kuni 'How am i gonna find him with this big ass mall...' you went for 10 minutes breakdown beside the ATM before gathering all of your energy and find your small kitten while praying that no one will adopt him.
Meanwhile your Kuni...
A young man with indigo hair that covers his ears, as well as indigo eyes look around the mall trying to find a glimpse of teal hair but he didn't noticed someone bump to him.
While you are busy finding your kitten you suddenly bump into someone; you apologize and the man who you bumped with reminds you of you Kuni but you quickly shook off the thoughts and apologize again "im sorry!" Before running away.
Scaramouche froze in his spot... Not only you didn't recognize him nor know about his secret (that he can turn into a human) you didn't recognize him. He muttered something before going to a empty place; transforming back into a kitten once again, on his way to find you.
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You were going insane. You searched every corner, every store and even asked every person in the mall if they found your kitten. You were close to give up but not until you felt a soft fur rubbish on your feet, you looked down and almost screamed when your beloved kitten finally appeared "Thank goddess! I thought you got kidnapped!(kittennap)" You hugged your cat; promising yourself not to let him go. "Now lets head home, i heard the new kitten is already in our house!" You exclaimed and run out of the mall.
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Opening the door of your house, you gently dropped kuni to the ground and immediately search for the new kitten. While you're busy roaming around your house Kuni was staring at something under the couch. He hiss at whoever or whatever creature is there hiding under the couch. Kuni stared at the glowing yellow eyes of the new kitten while displaying his sharp nails as a sign of threat.
"ah! There you are!"
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An: if y'all guessed whos the new kitten i would continue this fic🤭
@thetwinkims @sunsethw4 @etherisy @kunikuzushicandegrademefr @Heiijoxz, @eliciana @naritecs @kkazuyass @itztaki @makilovescofi @louise-rosita-leroux @w9vyy @lystaaa @midoriapologist @lilithticalx @red-chester @yushiu @raideneiari @scaraapologist @kxr0mi @sakiimeo @shizunxie @yanfeimainn @just-simping-over-genshin @thenightsflower @eunchaeluvr @ohmyfinggod @misomiis @spookyqueenduck @chalksdreams
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keravnous · 10 months
Text
the hunter! ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)
read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 3 here
Tangerine expected someone else - but he'll do just fine with you, too.
(Based on that one scene from the Kraven The Hunter trailer where he turns around in that chair with the loaded crossbow)
warnings: kids, this is dark; this is like the darkest version of tangerine my brain has cooked up thus far; he is a sociopath by source sooo: manipulation; dub-con/non-con, coercion, gun kink, anger issues, crying, blood, murder/injuries, daddy kink, masturbation, slight dumbification, name-calling, pet names, corruption kink, spit kink
SO I SAW THE KRAVEN THE HUNTER TRAILER AND I REALLY COULDNT HELP MYSELF
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"You fucking asshole!", you scream at the top of your lungs, bursting through the large door of your husband's office. It slams back into the lock just as you come to a halt on the expensive fur carpet in the middle of the spacious room.
His chair is facing the wall, a lit cigarette slowly glimming away in the ashtray. It lights up your rage like a match to gasoline.
"I am fucking speaking to you, you fucking dickhead! Can't you keep your dirty-ass dick out of that disgusting bitch you call a secretary for one day?", you are fuming, heart racing as you stomp down with your left heel, throwing your expensive and ridiculously small purse at him, missing the chair by nearly a whole foot. It crashes into the massive painting hanging behind the desk, where it leaves a nasty cut before falling to ground uselessly.
Your husband does not react and that, oh that, that get's you going alright, makes your blood race through your veins so hard you can hear it in your ears.
"I am fucking speaking to you -- turn the fuck around you coward!", you yell, hands clutched to tight fists, your jewellery cutting into the flesh.
Slowly, comedically slowly even, the chair turns. The man sitting in it puts his feet up on the table, legs clad in an expensive navy pin-stripe as he crosses them. And that --
That is not your husband.
The man, sitting in a chair that clearly isn't his, in an office that surely doesn't belong to him, is lean and a lot more handsome than the man you so reluctantly married a few years ago. His face is expressionless, bland like piece of paper, except for the anger pooling around his eyes. He is wearing an expensive looking pin-stripe suit and his hair is neatly combed back, 70s porn stache trimmed just as carefully - the only thing that looks out of place is the blood splattered on his face like freckles, one large splatter on his left cheek.
He is also pointing a gun at you. An actual fucking gun.
"And who the fuck are you, Lady?", he says, casually, but a little irritated nonetheless.
You choke on your own tongue, backing up a little. This is not good. It has your fight or flight kicking in, muscles in your back and legs tensing up and brain going numb, fingers starting to tingle.
"Don't ya move an inch", he growls, his gun following your movement. You freeze. You wonder if he will actually shoot you. You wonder what he is doing here.
"I-, I--"
The man rolls his eyes at you - pretty, pretty eyes; blue like the sea - and huffs out an exasperated sigh.
"Fuckin' answer me." His tone sends shivers down your spine and, if you did not already do so by his gun, you now know for sure that he is not playing around.
"I-", you take a deep breath, voice shaking and thin, "I- I am Markov's wife?"
It comes out more like a question, than an answer, really. You hope it will do; you hope he is happy with what is the - for you, rather sad - truth.
Tangerine cocks an eyebrow, leans back in the leather chair, gun still pointing at you. "'S that so?"
"Y-yes", you gulp.
"Didn't know he had a wife", he mutters, more to himself, really.
Tangerine can feel how the wheels in his head start to turn - the intel didn't suggest a marriage. It genuinely surprises him - not only because people in this profession rarely have spouses - but also because the young lady in front of him is way too pretty. Angelic, even. Too good for a boastful, careless cockroach of a criminal like Markov is. And he wants her, wants to own her. Wants to take take take. He wonders just how quickly she will break.
You, in the meantime, sense an opening.
"W-what do you want? I can g-give you money", you hastily stumble over the words, anxiety crawling up your spine, "A-all of it!"
The man raises his eyebrows, snorts amused. "No, love, I don't need your money."
"A-anything, p-please - just, just", and the dam breaks, eyes tearing up as your eyes zero in on the gun, "Just please d-don't kill me."
Something in his eyes changes, a dark shadow dancing over his face, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and then he pulls back the hammer of his revolver with his thumb. Your knees buckle a little as you hear the bullet snapping in place.
"Care to say that again, eh?" - Anything for your life, really.
"P-please don't kill me", you nearly sob, voice small and quiet, and you are ready, willing to put it all in there, "Please, I am begging you, Mister. I- I don't know why you're here, this - this is one big misunderstanding, I don't know anything about my husband's business. J-just let me go, please."
He does not move. You don't want to die, you are young, you still have a life to live. Maybe you will finally file for divorce. Maybe you will buy a house in Europe. Maybe, maybe, maybe -- You don't want to die.
"Please."
Tangerine says nothing for a moment, then his lips tilt up. "Tell me, love, d'ya beg for him that prettily, too? Or 's that just f'me?"
You blink. "What?", you blurt out.
"Jus' lemme hear it again, sugar - sounded so sweet, that."
You do not know what game he is playing but you really aren't ready to die yet either, so you give in.
"Please", you beg, looking at him with big, teary eyes - the barrel of the revolver stares back, a small black hole of ultimate death -, "Please, let me live." His lips tilt up and you decide to make a move on it, catch him off-guard.
"I-I'd do anything, I give you whatever you want!", you are growing desperate now, your brain trying its hardest to come up with something that will safe your ass. And that, that has his eyebrows knotting together.
The man seems to mull it over for a short while, eyes you up and down. Your skin tingles with it, feels numb and like it is on fire at the same time. "Did ya just say Anything, love?"
"I-I did, y-yes", and your voice grows desperate, "I'd do anything - just don't kill me, please, what do you want, I'll do --"
You ramble on and Tangerine rolls his eyes at you, exhales annoyed.
"Fuckin' shut up", he growls and you do, chin quivering a little with the tears still pooling in the corners of your eyes. You blink them away, sniffling a little.
"Here's what we're gonna do, love", he smiles cooly, shows his teeth like a predator, eyes drilling into you, "We're gonna have a little fun. And once we're done, I'll let ya go. How does that sound? Agreed?"
You have a suspicion what fun means, both, painfully clear and enforced by the way his gaze wanders over your body and you gulp. You really don't have a choice now, do you?
So you can hear yourself say: "Y-yes."
"Yes --?", he lifts his gun a little, gestures with it, "C'mon be a good girl."
Your eyes widen. You are not stupid; you know what he most likely wants to hear - you have met men like him before your marriage - and despite it making your stomach tingle a little it also makes painfully clear what he is imagining as A little fun.
Your voice is small, fingers fumbling with the hem of your tweed blazer. "Y-yes, Daddy", shivers run down your spine as his eyes turn dark dark dark, gaze transfixed by you and then he barks out a mean laugh.
"Fuckin' hell", what?, "I wanted you to thank me, you dumb fuckin' thing, not be a complete 'n utter slut about it."
Shame burns on your cheeks and you scramble for words - anything to say, to excuse or justify yourself - as mortification swallows you whole, crawls up your spine and mingles with your fear, has your head swimming.
"What a poor lil' airhead ya are", he grins at you meanly, "But I like it, go 'head, keep callin' me that. Probably gets you all wet, dunnit?"
You shake your head wildly - "N-no" - bottom lip quivering a little and he knows you are lying.
And Tangerine starts to grow bored. He has been feeling quite bored for a good while - since he blew Markov's lights out to be exact. He wishes he had not done it so soon, would have rather tied him up and let him watch how he has his way with his wife. Tangerine sighs, puffs his cheeks and let’s go off a breath dramatically, looks you straight in the eye.
"Alright, listen. I just don't have all day, so ya better get going, before I pop ya too", he waves his revolver at you, "Get undressed. 'n do it slowly."
You nod - I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die - fingers brush over the first button of your blazer, as he interrupts you: "Ah ah ah, what d'ya say?"
Your eyelids flutter and your knees feel like giving in. "Y-yes, Daddy."
Tangerine hums deep in his throat. "Atta girl - now keep going."
With shaking hands, cold sweat pooling between your fingers, you start to slowly unbutton the first few buttons of your costume's blazer. It's a Chanel tweed set, since you had just been out with some friends for lunch, before one of them told you about what had she'd seen yesterday. Part of you wishes you had never left the restaurant, just shrugged it off and ordered another drink instead. You don't even know why you fight for this marriage - you never really spoke to him; he never touched you or even really looked at you - not that you minded that much. But it's losing your status, the money he brings in, that you'd miss and thus, you had grown a nice pair of manicured claws over time.
See where that got you.
Your blazer falls to the ground with a thud and Tangerine licks his lips. And that is when another part of you, very quietly at the back of your mind, is a little glad you came here. It's in his eyes mostly, a strange and unknown hunger, like an animal gone wild. And it ignites something in you, shoots pleasure straight down your loins and has your breath hitching.
No one, no one has ever looked at you like that, like he is close to dashing over the desk and swallowing you whole, eating you up and ripping you apart with razor-sharp teeth.
Your blouse follows next, as you pop open the first few buttons, pulling the thin fabric out of your short tweed skirt. It flows to the ground shortly after, leaves you in your bra, skirt, and heels. Tangerine does not give you as much as a few seconds to accommodate to being partially exposed to him, his eyes gleaming dangerously.
"Skirt's next, darlin'."
You inhale audibly through your lips and Tangerine chuckles quietly at that as you unhook the clasp on your skirt, slooowly pulling down the zipper at the side. You feel ridiculous, like a very bad caricature of a housewife stripping for her husband. It's nothing like you imagined it to be, fingers buried deep inside of you, imagining your husband to be someone else, someone prettier, someone who valued you - someone who you'd love to get dirty for. You don't feel sexy or tempting - but to him you certainly do look the part, the way your body quivers and shakes, all shy by avoiding his gaze.
The expensive tweed falls to the floor and you step out of the fabric of your clothing, pooling around your feet. You gulp, carefully looking up at him. You wonder if he likes what he sees, if it's enough for him to spare your life, to --
Tangerine's heart skips a beat, a sharp noise erupting in his ears. The lingerie you are wearing, a stunning pale-pink lace set, hugs your curves nicely and leaves nothing to the imagination - with the way your nipples poke through the bra, the string cupping your cunt, dipping a little into the cleft of your folds.
He can also see the damp patch on your lacey string and it makes his dick rock-hard, pressing against his slacks. He lifts an eyebrow, as he looks at you. "Who would've thought", and you blush, swallowing, "He married a common whore."
The humiliation burns on your cheeks, turns them red and your mouth goes dry, but there's also fresh wetness pooling between your legs at his words. Oh, you are fucked.
He reads you like an opened book, watches you shifting uncomfortably. "Say it", he whispers softly.
You swallow, licking your lips, before replying quietly: "I am a common whore - Daddy."
"That you are, darlin', aren't ya", Tangerine grins, "Get that bra off, show me what ya got."
You reach back and unclasp the soft lace, pulling the strings over your shoulders and down your arms, carelessly throwing the fabric to the side. Tangerine tilts his head a little, his eyes assessing your tits. He seems satisfied, waves his revolver at you.
"Touch yourself, I wanna see those pretty tits movin'", swallowing, your hands come up, damp with cold sweat and cup your tits, bouncing and squeezing them a little, pressing them together. You do not dare looking at him, gaze focussed on the desk instead, hands brushing over your breasts.
You just started rolling your left nipple between your index finger and thumb, gasping quietly, the slight pain and pleasure running straight between your legs as he suddenly moves. You flinch, arms immediately clutching around your exposed chest while he gets up, deliberately strolls over to you.
Maybe he is not satisfied, he surely isn't, it must've been too little, not enough he's gonna kill you, kill you, kill you --
"Such perfect fuckin' tits", he weighs his revolver in his hands, the metal of it clinking against his rings, and closes in on you. "Have ya been touched often?", the barrel of the gun hooks underneath your chin and your lift your head with it obediently, looking up at him. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your eyes big and teary again. You don't think he's one to slip on the trigger but it still has anxiety crawling up your spine - don't kill me, don't kill me, don't kill me --
"Answer me, ya stupid twat."
You just wish he would take that fucking gun away from your face.
"N-no", you answer truthfully. The last time you had sex was literal ages ago, in your time at Harvard. Since your parents had married you off you haven't been touched by another fucking human being, assured so by the constant observation of your husband's men. He was allowed to cheat, but God forbid you had some fun. So, you had retreated to fucking yourself, lacking any physical contact, making every single time you masturbated feel shallow and incomplete. Tangerine watches the way your face changes as you reminisce.
"Oh, ya poor thing", he coos, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and you look up at him, "Bet that felt horrible, didn't it?"
And you nod, his thumb caressing your cheek and you get a first good look at him. He is really pretty. The blood looks good on him, bright red in a glooming contrast to his blue eyes. Your head swims with it a little. "How did that make ya feel, eh?"
"Lonely", you croak, before you can stop yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks, pooling between his fingers and rings.
He hums in his throat. "Bet it did", something dances across his eyes, "D'ya want someone to take care of ya? D'ya want to stop feeling so bloody lonely all the time?"
The truth behind his words runs you over like a freight train, barely leaves you wondering with how he got that about you so fast, brain erupting in a static noise.
You do. You feel lonely, locked up in a golden cage of money and bodyguards, with no one opening its door to spend some time with the little bird inside.
"Y-yeah", you whisper, blinking away the tears.
"Wanna know something, love?", and you nod, carefully, not to spook him into shooting, "I could be that person. How's that sound, eh? I could keep ya safe -"
Tangerine's hand leaves your cheek and touches your waist instead, a feather-light touch that has goosebumps spreading all over your body.
"I could touch ya -", his hand sprawls over your lower back, "'N keep you happy, get ya lots'n lots of pretty, sparkly things."
Your breath hitches, brain slowly growing mushy because - because, despite the gun underneath your chin, that does sound heavenly. It sounds easy. Painless. Better. A little exciting even.
"C'mon, how's that sound?", he coos, hand running over your back, to your side again, thumb toying with the hem of your string.
"Sounds so good, Daddy", you sigh, images of a new life, a different life flashing by.
"Mh, I know it does. I could take you with me, make ya mine. You'd love that, wouldn't ya?", his fingers dance over your abdomen, dipping lower and between your legs. His thumb presses down on the damp patch, rubs over your clit, his bracelet rustling.
And it is like your brain has completely given up, surrendering yourself to this very handsome man. But you just can't since - "I-I am married", you croak, a little helplessly, like you don't quite know what to make out of that either.
He does, anger flickering behind his eyes like someone pulled a lighter out and ignited his gaze.
Tangerine growls, the barrel of his revolver pressing against your temple roughly, thumb rubbing smaller circles over your clit through your dampened string, "You belong to me now, d'ya understand? There's nothing he can do about it, y'hear me?"
"Y-yes Daddy, I do", you whine, eyelids fluttering and small tears running down your cheeks.
"Oh, stop fuckin' crying - I can feel how wet ya little cunt's gotten, fuckin' slut", and you blink up at him, a small gasp escaping your mouth as your gazes meet through teary eyes.
You just look so fucking hot to him. Adrenaline from his kill still pumps through his veins and it makes him so so mad, his ears ringing. He feels like he is about to fucking burst and your tears only spurr him on, making something in his stomach growl, stretching its claws out.
Tangerine is too far gone already, everything tinted red red red and he just wants to lash at you, bury his teeth in your throat and end your life like that, bury his dick deep inside of you and feel you twitch around him while blood spurts from your open wound, flows from your mouth. He wants.
But you are also so very very pretty to him, tears running down your cheeks, lips plush and quivering a little and nipples hard like glass, testing his patience with the way they poke out at him.
"Or actually, don't", his lips curl up into a cold smile, "I like to see you cry, hm? Y'real pretty like this."
And you sob heavily, his words making your head swim. Pretty pretty pretty - when was the last time someone called you pretty?
"Oh, darlin'", Tangerine whispers, gun grazing your temple, thumb rubbing small and hard circles on your clit, "Don't be hurt by Daddy, hm? I don't mean to hurt ya, now do I?"
"N-no", you shake your head a little, "Di-didn't hurt m-me."
"Mhm, you are such a good girl, aren't ya? Never hurt by your new Daddy, eh?"
You shake your head again but this time, his face grows stern. "Ah ah ah, words, love. Use your words."
"N-no, y-you could never hurt me."
"Yeah, I couldn't, how could I? I can say anything to you, call you whatever I like and you would never be hurt, would ya?"
And you do not want him to be angry, do not want him to think that he could hurt you - so that he doesn't accidentally slip and does just that - and you notice that fresh tears stream down your cheeks.
"I-I wouldn't, no", you blink away the tears and Tangerine smiles at you.
"That's right. I can call you whatever I like", his thumb speeds up and you moan sweetly, "What d'ya think? Doesn't slut fit you well?"
He says it with such adoration that you cannot help but sigh, nodding. "Y-yeah, it does", you reply quietly, ready to wear it with pride.
"Alright then, slut - take that sorry excuse of a panty off."
You follow his command, shaking fingers hooking underneath the hem of your string, pulling it down slowly.
"Faster, you dumb fuckin' slut."
"Uh-huh", you mumble, nodding, and hastily shoving your string down your legs until it falls down and pools at your feet - a pretty pink on a bright fur carpet. Now, with being fully naked, you feel incredibly vulnerable.
You still wonder if he really won't hurt you. You decide that if you stick by rules, he most likely won't.
Tangerine slowly walks around you, like a predator surrounding its prey, then comes to a halt behind you. The barrel of his revolver presses against the nape of your neck and then glides over your body - down down down - cold metal against warm skin, and then he reaches around your waist. The gun grazes your abdomen and slips between your legs, barrel running cooly through your folds. And you can't hold back the moan crawling up your throat, parting your lips, has you inhaling sharply.
"Yeah, that's more like it, innit?", he rubs the cold metal along your folds, "I can fuckin' smell how wet your cunt is."
And you can hear it, too - the way your pussy squelches obscenely around the barrel, wetness dripping down your thighs. Your knees buckle as the metal rubs along your clit, has you moaning shyly.
Tangerine wraps one arm around you, holds you upright with your back pressed flush against his chest and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, hotly through his slacks.
"Lift your leg, love", he whispers, moustache brushing over the shell of your ear and you comply like you are a fucking robot, and his large hand wraps around the back of your knee, holds your leg up. You mewl as the gun wanders further, barrel brushing against your hole and then dips in with barely any effort, so so slick by your juices and your breath hitches, whole body trembling as the cold metal enters you.
"O-oh", you gasp dumbly, your body sacking back against him. The barrel isn't too big, barely larger than a finger, and rather short but it still feels - good? Tangerine starts to fuck you with it slowly, moves the gun in and out of you and your head swims with the thought, that he could just pull the trigger and blow your lights out, could leave you here bleeding to death.
Your legs start to shake, anxiety and lust mingling dangerously, and in a desperate attempt for any leverage your hand shoots up, reaches back and finds the back of his neck, clutches onto it, fists the pristine white banker's collar of his shirt.
"Yeah, that feels fuckin' good, dunnit?"
"Uh-huh", you breathe, the cold metal pumping in and out of you has lust pooling your stomach and you look down to where his tattooed arm wraps around your waist, where the black sparrow and the golden bracelet vanish along your pussy - watching the way you can see the grip and trigger moving against your folds.
You should be scared, afraid of him and afraid of the gun fucking into you - but you just aren't. Lust washes over your brain, makes everything go just a little hazy, wraps you in cotton candy - hot and syrupy, sweet.
"My god - shit", you breathe, your cunt aching to be touched and you wish for the barrel to just be a bit longer, able to fuck you properly, reach the parts only his cock could - the one that's pressing against your ass hotly, pulsing through his slacks. Instead, you roll your hips once, best you can with his iron grip on your thigh, meeting the thrusts of his gun.
It has you whining, the way the cold metal presses against your hot and slick skin, throwing your head back, resting on his shoulder. Tangerine moves in, like a hungry animal, lips and stache brushing over your exposed shoulder, tickling the naked skin while his eyes wander down your body - taking in your desperate thrusts, bouncing tits and hard nipples. You are fucking hot, maybe the hottest thing he has seen in a while, hotter than the tarts he fucks sometimes.
You seem clean - innocent and virginal and it nearly makes him bust a nut thinking about you: on all fours crawling towards him, sucking his cock until your throat bruises and you are a crying mess, tied to the bedposts taking him like a good fucking personal sex doll would. He groans against your skin, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your leg.
The sound has you vibrating. It leaves you wanting, wanting to feel more, to feel full; to hear more of him, more of where that came from. You can't hold yourself back. "D-daddy", you moan, the feeling of his hard dick pressing against you and the warmth that his firm chest radiates leaving you a little dizzy, "N-need your cock."
Tangerine chuckles against your shoulders. "Oh, now you're wantin' something, eh? What about me, love? What about our little deal?"
"'S for y-you, too", you whine helplessly.
"Oh no no no", he sounds genuinely amused, presses the gun snugly against your aching cunt and your legs tremble, "Don't ya try to get me all soft 'n shit, hm? You'll lose, love, you'll lose."
His tongue darts out, licks a fat stripe over your neck, testing your sweat mingling with your expensive perfume. It takes all his willpower not bury his teeth into your soft flesh until he draws blood and life fades from your eyes.
"N-need m-more", you gasp, hole clenching around the short barrel, cunt needy and aching and squirting against his fingers and the gun in anticipation.
"Well, then -- Why don't ya show me how you got yourself off all those years, hm? Show me how to work that sweet cunt of yours", his lips brush over the nape of your neck and your knees buckle at the soft touch, "Show Daddy how to do it."
Tangerine pulls the gun out of you and you gasp, eyelids fluttering, hole clenching around nothing at the loss, wanting the friction back and he slowly puts your leg back down. His hand brushes up your thigh and waist, rests on your shoulder, presses down a little. And you turn to puddy in his hands, knees giving in and you sink down, landing on your knees with a soft thud.
The fur feels soft around your knees and you lay your head back obediently, looking up at him through hazy eyes. You can see him swallowing, licking his lips. His revolver drips with your juices.
His hand grabs your chin, slight pressure on your throat and then he moves in, rubs his crotch over the back of your head. You can feel his hard, big dick against your skull and you can't help your mind from wandering there, wondering how might he taste.
"Feel that? That's what ya fuckin' slutty behaviour does t'Daddy", he bows down, grins at you and then, without warning, spits.
You flinch as his saliva hits your face, lands across your forehead and you cheeks. His thumb spreads it out, rubs it into your skin and you moan, humiliation pooling in your stomach and shooting down between your legs.
Tangerine chuckles, straightens back up and the hand leaves your face, your throat. "Spread ya legs, I wanna see what's gonna be mine."
You comply, sitting down on your ass and planting your feet in front of you, heels digging into the soft fur. He strolls around you, makes is way back to the desk.
"'N you fuckin' whore better put on a fuckin' good show for me, too", he growls, "It's what ya want, innit? Be a good girl f'me?"
It kind of is. The part of your brain that just doesn't want to die is oddly silent. There is something else, something that buries its claws deep deep in your mind and tears and tears and tears until everything is a little mushy and your brain complies - good girl good girl good girl.
Tangerine leans against the table, crosses his feet and places his hands on the edges, gun dangling from his slender fingers. "C'mon love, ya better don't wanna keep me waiting."
You look down at yourself and a surprised gasp leaves you mouth - you are incredibly wet, thighs sticky with your own juices. You run your fingers through your folds in awe, feeling your own slick, and you moan as you brush by your clit. You need more, body and cunt aching for it and your index finger starts to rub over your clit.
Squelching sounds erupt between your legs and you mewl at the sensation, your cunt so responsive, hole fluttering and your free hand darts out, grabs the fur beneath you.
"Such a pretty fuckin' cunt ya got", and your gaze darts up at him, stomach doing a funny little flip as your eyes meet his, breath hitching in your throat.
Tangerine licks his lips, gestures with his gun. "Rub faster, I wanna hear more of ya sweet moans, slut."
You comply immediately, rubbing your clit faster and you do moan for him, gasping with the pleasure shooting through your body, igniting your nerves. You throw your head back, not waiting for his next instruction, adding a second finger, rubbing large and quick circles around your clit, hips bucking and rolling against them, heightening the sensation.
Arching your back you moan and gasp, lust swallowing you whole and taking over your brain - eradicating anything and everything despite the need to feel more more more.
"C'mon, I know you wan'it, push one in and finger yourself", and your other hand flies to your wanton pussy; index finger briefly, impatiently circling your hole before eagerly dipping in, burying itself deep in one quick thrust. You hiss, quickly exchanged by a sweet gasp as you bottom your finger out.
You start to move it in and out of you, rubbing it along your walls and you can't help but sink onto your back, mewling as it enters you deeper, slips back in more easily. You feel so so dirty, naked in nothing but your jewellery and heels with his spit across your face, but you have never felt better either.
"O-one more, please", you beg, "Please, let me have one more."
Don't you just beg so prettily? He wonders if you will beg like that when he will shove a plug up your ass and fuck your throat, stuffing your cunt with a vibrator. He wonders if you will ask for another one to fuck your ass.
Oh, he will ruin you alright. "Since you ask so nicely", he coos, "Go ahead, slut. Whatever ya need."
Pushing a second finger in, the circles you rub on your clit become smaller and faster. You moan in rhythm with your fingers thrusting into you, curling them a little. Your legs go a little limp, knees darting away from each other, giving him an even better view of your assault on your pussy, the way your slick spreads up to your thighs. Your cunt gushes around your fingers as you force them in deeper, squirts against your hand.
Tangerine watches you coming apart smugly, weighs his revolver in his hands. Who would've thought a simple gun was enough to get you to buckle, give in and surrender yourself to him?
You are his now, he will never let you got. He will keep you and train you and make you needy and dumb for no one else but him.
The thought nearly makes his chest burst with the power trip it sends him on, and he spreads his legs a little, feels his hard cock pressing against his slacks. He can't fucking wait to get in that sweet sweet cunt of yours - show you how a real man fucks his wife, fucks what belongs to him. Tangerine can see, even from where he is standing, that you are fucking tight - the way your hole stretches around your delicate fingers has him licking his lips.
He can't fucking wait to claim you.
"Yeah, I can see he never fucked you properly", Tangerine rasps, shakes his head in silent disapproval as you mewl, arching your back, "I'd take care of you, y'know? Y'want that, don't ya?"
You nod nod nod, moaning as your fingers brush over your walls, stretching you out as you scissor yourself open - thinking about how good his huge fucking dick would feel inside of you instead - your hole fluttering around your digits.
"Bet ya do, lil' slut. Daddy's gonna take real good care of ya, ya'd never ever have to think again. Jus' lemme do the thinking."
"Shit, please, yes", you moan, rocking down on your fingers, pushing a third one in. You are so so full, juices squelching around your hole and wetting your hand and the fur underneath you but it's not enough. You start to pump the in and out of you quicker, deep thrusts hitting the spot inside of you just right.
"Yeah, I'd tell you exactly what to do", Tangerine hums, "I'd be coming home and tell my little slut to bend over the fuckin' kitchen table, stuff her tight 'n needy holes, 'n what would she say?"
"I-I'd thank y-you", you nearly cry out, your whole body feeling light and shuddering at the thought.
"Mhm, atta girl - and if I put ya pretty throat on a leash? Drag ya through the house and stuff ya full of toys? What would ya say to Daddy?"
"T-thank you, Daddy", you huff, chest heaving with your rapidly approaching orgasm, legs tensing up and toes curling.
"And what would ya say when I let ya cum, slut?"
"Thank you!", you sob, the two fingers on your clit rubbing mercilessly, your other hand fucking you hard and fast.
"That's a good girl. Lemme hear it then, cum you fuckin' whore."
Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, your cunt pushing your fingers out as you convulse around them - a high pitched chant Thank you thank you thank you falling from your lips. Your arms fall to the side uselessly as you ride your orgasm out, wave after wave of warm squirt wetting the fur, as you moan and roll your hips, leaving you breathless.
Your eyes flutter open as you hear footsteps, see him approaching. He is still holding his revolver, the outline of where his large cock is pressing angrily against his expensive trousers.
"Too sad your husband couldn't just see that, eh?", there is genuine joy marking Tangerine's features, making his bright eyes gleam.
Oh shit - that reminds you of something.
"W-where is he?", you croak, legs still shaking with your recent orgasm, body sinking into the fur.
"Oh, love", he seems to smile at you, but his eyes don't join in on his lips tilting up, "He's right 'ere, ain't he?"
He points his revolver away from you, to the side and your eyes warily follow the movement. There is nothing there except the locked closet and --
And a dark pool of something on the ground, a trail of it slooowly creeping your way over the polished floor boards. It looks like-
You stretch your arm out, fingers darting out and the index finger dipping into the liquid. It's still warm and sticky.
And red. It does not take a genius to get what it is.
Tangerine licks his lips as he watches you, how realization creeps in, changes your facial expression. You look horrified and his dick twitches at the sight.
He closes in on you, bows down over your exposed body and grabs your hand roughly, pulls it in. "Would'ya mind cleaning that up f'me, love?", and your eyelids flutter and you do, like you are on autopilot, licking your dead husband's blood from your finger.
"Mhm", Tangerine hums and you gag a little around the metallic taste, which makes his face light up. He pulls his finger from your mouth, unbuckles his belt instead. "I think, I really might just keep ya."
"Y-you said you'd let me go", you gasp as his hand dips between your legs.
"Well, love - change of plans, innit?"
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harrystylesfan2686 · 4 months
Text
Pieces Part 4
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Meeting new people
A/N: hehehe. (Unedited again sorry!)
Pieces Masterlist
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"Boo! Next!" Mor boos on my yellow dress and Feyre's face screams 'not good'. I groan out and go back to my stall, closing the certain and taking off the dress.
My friends forcefully brought me to a boutique to buy something new, stating that at the occasion on me surviving a whole month alone and not getting fired from the library is an occasion to be celebrated. They're taking me out to Rita's tonight and want me to wear something 'nice'. Despite my whines of not needing a new outfit, they picked out a bunch of dresses for me to try and show them for they're approval.
I wear the pink princess cut dress next and get out to show them. They make a face and Feyre comments,"too formal." I sigh and get back in.
"You know I feel like Rhys has been too tired lately." Mor says, probably to Feyre from outside the stall as I try to tie the threads on the back of my next dress. "Yes, he has been. He also stays in his office so much lately because he's trying to do all the work alone." Feyre responds.
"Oh why is that?" Mor again asks. "You know because he's given Azriel a leave." My ears perk up at the name. "Oh yes! I met with Az earlier this week actually, to coax him into coming to eat with us but he only opened the door for one minute and slamed it again after saying no to my face. Gods he looked so thin." I freeze. "And the bags under his eyes! I am so worried about him. I fear he'll rot himself in that very room."
They probably didn't wanted me to hear but I did. I imagine him with dark circles around his eyes, sucked in body and covered in shadows. With his head, stting on the floor, silently as his shadows hide him from the world. I can imagine the scene perfectly, having found him like that in our house many times. I frown at the though of my husband being depressed.
I shake the thought out of my mind and focus on properly wearing my dress.
I smooth out the creases of my dress and stand still in the mirror. Looking at myself, trying out a burgundy flowy dress, a heart neckline with line stapes, that's tighten around my middle and then let lose until the end. I look beautiful. I smile to myself and turn a bit to see the back, it's perfect.
I yank the certain aside and show my outfit to my apparent judges. They're conversation abrutly stops as they look at me and smile. "Perfect." Mor's grin widens and Feyre nods while giving a thumbs up.
"I think so too." I giggle and look down at myself swaying a little to see my dress move with me. I get into the stall and close the certain again to get out of the dress and buy it.
But I can't stop thinking about what Feyre said though. My imagine of him stays in my mind the whole day, making a sad, knowing how much he's suffering. It's not that he doesn't deserve it but, I mean, he's still my mate. I still love him. How can I not be sad for him?
Maybe it's time I give azriel a chance.
-☆-
"Y/N!" I startle hearing a sudden yell of my name, droping the books I was holding from my hands. I curse under my breath and crouch down to pick it up, someone kneels down in front of me, helping me by collecting the rest of the books.
We both stand up together and as I look up to thank the person, my words die in my mouth seeing a gorgeous male in front of me with emerald green eyes. His chocolate brown hair, wavy shoulder cut length seem a little greasy which juat adds to the handsome look.
"Here you go." My eyes widen listening to his deep voice and focusing on his dashing smile. My hands blinding taking the books from his and our fingers graze each other. My eyes snap to his hands, taking in the large fingers, following up to the veiny arms and big muscles.
I breath out.
"Thank you." I finally manage to say. His smile widens. He nods and steps back, turning around and disappearing behind the aisle. I find myself hoping to see him again when a tap to my shoulder brings me back to earth.
I turn around and let out a small shriek, stepping back when seeing Layla's face too close to mine. "What are you doing?!" I manage not to let the books fall again.
"What are you doing? We have to get back to work, there are a lot of customers today and I do not want to mess up when Hilda left me in charge. Now get back to work!" She turns around and goes back to the counter. I pout at her yelling, I can't blame her though, there truly are a lot of customers today. I should probably listen to her and try not to add on her stress.
I sigh and get back to work.
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Tag list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @wallacewillow0773638 @cat-or-kitten @pricklepearbloom @peachcontour-blog @bxm-1012 @fxckmiup @ohthemisssery
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alicerosejensen · 19 days
Note
I love your page so much omg. I‘m literally obsessed with your work😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
Also I have this imagination in my mind going on about how Leon would try to help his girlfriend from recovering from her mental health issues since she’s always helping him. I was recently thinking about how he would react finding her not moving on the bathroom floor and trying to bring her back! I rewatched American horror stories and the scene with tate and violet in the first season episode 6 (ig?) is always in my head. I‘m still recovering from my past and my unhealthy habits and tbh recovery never felt better.
If this is too much for you or triggering please ignore this.🫶🏼❤️
I had a terrible period in my life when I was a few steps away from doing something like this in my life and unfortunately this shit often comes out. I'm not sure that such texts help me work through my psychological traumas, which were, in fact, inflicted on me and continue to be inflicted by close people who do not consider me a person, but at least such works help me to vent my pain, which I cannot permanently bury in myself.
I have been postponing this request for a long time because I was probably waiting for the right moment to write this text.
There are mentions of suicide, psychological trauma, severe self-doubt and anxiety, so if this is not acceptable to you, then please just block it.
Perhaps there is a similarity with my previous texts, but I am writing this with strong emotions now that I am trying to cope with it again.
the text is chaotic, I repeat, written while I was under the influence of strong heavy emotions. Maybe I'll delete it later, when my brain gets back to normal a little bit.
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If a songbird doesn't sing well, they wring its neck.
Maybe it was the costs of Leon's profession and the result of his constant missions, after which something human is gradually dying in him despite the constant struggle to save everyone. Raccoon City was supposed to teach, if not to survive, then make him begin to understand that some are doomed to die.
Leon Kennedy was taught not to offend, but to protect the weak, especially weak women. But it is difficult to calm the flow of disordered thoughts and put aside the fear that has seized him in order to clamp bloody wrists and apply something to them to stop the blood. Leon knew many strong women: Ada was perhaps the first among them, he did not know either her past or her real name, only the present that pushed their foreheads against each other; Claire, a fighting friend of misfortune that he met in that ill-fated city; Ashley, who turned from a baby eagle into a proud eagle; Angela Miller and others…
Your strength dissolves in the water, coloring it scarlet while your heart stubbornly still beats, let the rhythm noticeably shorten.
In truth, over the past few months it became clear that this was the only way out. When even your loved ones considered you an expired product and did not hesitate to remember this and remind you every time. In the end, their words turned into an obsessive worm that settled in your head, slowly day after day, month after month, devouring you and the circumstances seemed to be not in your favor. Instead of support, you somehow faced reproach, as if the universe was screaming that you were an wrong person, nature's mistake who had no right to live.
Escape attempts were doomed to failure. At first you tried to suppress it in yourself, helping Leon, because, in your opinion, he was the only one who had the right to complain about life, although he did not do this in front of you, because everyone said that you had no problems: you have everything limbs, there are no fatal diseases, all loved ones are healthy and there is a roof over your head, as if this is enough to not fall for nonsense and not walk around forever with a sad face.
This was the last time you shared your experiences. You didn’t even bother telling Leon, but everything inside was torn from constant pain. The feeling was as if you were being beaten by two extremes that led you to the edge of an abyss where you ultimately voluntarily jumped.
no, you really loved him, it was just other people’s words and your own speculation that convinced you, despite your strong relationship with him, that Leon would find someone better, someone more confident in himself, someone who would not be you because you had already missed the chance for a good life because it moved too slowly. Ultimately, a couple of sips of alcohol with sleeping pills and a sharp blade in his hands simply promised to correct the mistake in the form of you with your own hands.
You didn't have the courage to do it any other way.
But you really didn’t think that if you could try to open up to your loved one, you would meet support and not condemnation. Perhaps in a mad world he would be the only one who would heal your wounds as you healed him in your time. Leon clenched his teeth, feeling tears flowing down cheeks, seeing these crimson stains, when he pulled your body out of the bath, holding you close to him, repeating “I’m holding you. It's allright"
He so carefully laid you on his lap, managing to pull out a first aid kit and then bandages to tightly, albeit carelessly, wrap them around your wrist in order to somehow stop the bleeding. At least you were still breathing, thereby giving him hope that everything could still be fixed. the darkness and emptiness came to life, calling in a whisper to dissolve into eternal silence where there is no pain or condemnation. Your body will be in a grave under a gray stone, while the remains of your soul will float like a small grain of sand in infinity.
For Leon, everything happens in a fog; he tried more than once to save people, but he had no right to lose in this battle, even if you yourself surrendered to death. Shaking his head, brushing away the tears, he wrapped your body in a large terry towel, kissed your temple and picked you up, trying to somehow warm you, pressing you closer to him. the ability to provide first aid in the field and pull suicides out of the other world is not the same thing. Leon would have thanked God if he had believed in him, convinced that blood loss was the least of the evils that you had caused yourself, until he saw the remains of some substance at the bottom of the glass that stood on the table along with an almost full bottle of alcohol.
You really didn't give him a chance.
The ambulance took several minutes, which seemed like an eternity. In fact, Leon wasn't sure if it was worth trying to make you vomit when you'd already lost so much blood that it was already seeping through the bandages. Surely you would need a transfusion and Leon is ready to give you all his blood if only you would wake up. Holding his breath, he carefully looked at your chest, watching whether you were breathing and fortunately, your heart was still beating, slowly, but it was still fighting for life.
He stroked you on the head, kissed you, promised that he would take you somewhere else, quiet, where no one would dare to offend you, even if it was your family. You could have just asked him for help, just cuddled up to him and he would have protected you from other people’s attacks, but you preferred to remain silent. Kennedy was tired of waiting for the medical staff to let him in, although relatives should be allowed to see the patient first, but the position of a government agent sometimes had its advantages, and they concerned not only the high salary. When he was let in to you, it seemed to him that you had become half your size while you were lying on the bed, curled up under the blanket. It didn’t work out to pull off a beautiful suicide, which meant that soon angry relatives would come here with new sweat of bile especially for you. They won’t care about your feelings, but Leon sat down next to you, trying not to intrude too much into the space in which you imprisoned yourself, as if this blanket cocoon could be a separate world where you could hide. He spoke to you carefully, hating himself for not being able to understand in time what was wrong with your behavior; perhaps if he had been more attentive to you, the incident could have been avoided. You would see a psychotherapist, take a course of medication, and your environment would definitely be taken care of.
You cry, not letting him come to you, hating how you weren't just left to die and how much you hate this world. Hysteria after hysteria, nervous breakdown after nervous breakdown, in the hospital you repeatedly tried to commit suicide, but the attentive staff managed to prevent this before you inflicted fatal injuries on yourself, and if after some time Leon still managed to carefully break through your armor, then your loved ones This did not concern relatives in principle. You only allowed one person to visit you while you were undergoing psychological treatment and you behaved calmer and calmer, listening to the velvety words that soon all this would be behind you.
“We’ll go home soon,” Leon smiled, gently holding your hand and kissing your forehead, just glad that you’re alive, that you’re breathing and that your psycho-emotional state is slowly but improving. “You know, I have a surprise for you, I think you’ll like it when we get home.”
Soon what happened will become another nightmare in his life, a blessing with a good ending, but for the sake of this happy ending, Kennedy is ready to descend into hell at least every day.
You nod at him and smile a little, fearing that the gift is some kind of party on the occasion of your discharge. In fact, the last thing you want is to see someone’s faces, especially those who diligently hammered into your head how insignificant you are. Why do you even hope that the doctor will postpone your discharge, but the plans for your further treatment were completely different.
On the other hand, after taking antidepressants and psychological help in a special medical institution, how many men are ready to stay with their girlfriends who have been there for several months? For Leon, it seems this was not a significant problem, or he simply carefully did not show it. However, there were no parties, no calls, you simply returned now to his home where there were new interior items. it became somehow more comfortable... but something else surprised you.
Puppy. A small puppy of a couple of months old ran towards you and Leon to meet both of them, but stopped and began sniffing your shoes, while something thawed in your heart.
“Animals seem to help us well, They feel when we feel bad, it seems to me a good idea to get us a little companion,” Leon said quietly, stroking your back while you were busy with the puppy, rejoicing at the little living soul who will love you with the same pure and devoted love.
Ultimately it should have a happy ending too. Leon is ready to go to great lengths so that his beloved songbird starts smiling and singing happy songs again, even if it is necessary to remove other birds from her family who sleep and see how to pluck all her wings again.
You and he also have a chance for a happy ending.
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roo-bastmoon · 6 days
Text
Off My Chest
Rant about Hybe under the cut. I give you my word I will try to post a majority of positive content, because the world (and my mental health) doesn't need more negativity, but sometimes you just gotta vent.
Folks, if you've known me for a hot second, you've realized I am a Jimin-biased Jikooker... but I am OT7, and I sincerely love and support BTS.
I believe Jimin is a grown man who can advocate for himself and I believe Jungkook absolutely supports and adores him, whatever their relationship status is.
I always try to accentuate the positive and avoid online drama and negativity as much as possible, but I need to get this off my chest.
I will never be gas-lit into believing that the way Jimin was treated in solo era was fair, or equitable, or even made any kind of business-sense. I've genuinely tried to entertain other people's points of view and listen to people who claim to have industry expertise, but...
I will never forget his mail being tampered with four times, his leaked insurance information, denial of more music videos, overlapped solo release, only 9 days of promotion, split title tracks, no radio or play-listing, no bio for his Spotify for months, no restock of his single CD for months, hundreds of thousands of frozen and deleted sales, millions of culled streams, shady articles in WeVerse and Billboard, insulting dialogue in In the Seom, failure to submit to RIAA certification for months, only a paywall documentary on WeVerse, zero official acknowledgement of his Hot 100 #1, 1 billion streams on Spotify, or wins for The Fact, MAMA, and two Webbys, plus broken in-ears, anemic little balloons and a sad background tarp as decorations for his fan events… and the company telling him how doing more would just be impossible.
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I compare all that to the push that other members and other groups got, and I know it just isn't true. It wasn't impossible.
Hell, Jeon Jungkook put in more effort to promote Jimin’s work and showed more respect for Jimin as an artist during his at-home lives than that whole company did, which honestly makes no sense from a profit standpoint.
I will never forget it, and I will not entertain arguments that say I’m a solo or an anti or jealous about it. I have eyes.
I am not out to shade any other members nor put forth any conspiracy theories. I simply want all our boys to get everything they justly deserve.
And yes, other members have suffered mishaps and neglect, but nothing of this scale, this consistently. It baffles me, I cannot understand it, and I'm done trying. Something strange was going on behind the scenes and we may never be privy to the details.
In trying to put this awful feeling behind me, I will say I am elated that Jikook are serving together and can support each other. I am glad there will be a Jikook travel show. I'm continually impressed with all of Jimin's success (in the military and professionally) despite all odds. I will always love and support all of BTS with my full heart.
And I sincerely hope the company has been taking notes and course-corrects for PJM2, even if it rubs some higher ups the wrong way if they had a different vision. Considering Jimin’s unique talents and his amazing star power—even his ability to bring Paris and New York to a screaming standstill just for the opportunity to see him exit a car—I would hope the company will “do their best to promote all labels and artists without discrimination” going forward.
But what happened truly sucked, and I needed to get that off my chest. I am not interested in further discussion or debate. I am now going to do my best to shift my focus and energy on to the things I want to manifest, instead of the things that enrage me.
So let me end on a positive and hopeful note: I put all my trust in Jimin, who signed a new contract with Hybe and who unfailingly adores all his members. There can be no love without trust. I will always do my best to trust BTS.
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But I'm watching carefully. For Jimin and all our boys.
Love, Roo
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morganas-pendragons · 5 months
Text
untitled | fourteen
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everyone loves when David Tennant does his sad boy screaming scenes. light spoilers for the second of the sixtieth specials. I am telling you what... I haven't felt like I was on an acid trip watching doctor who since 2014 LOL
this is one of two doctor who fics I'm gonna be putting out before Christmas!
***
When you find him, he's screaming. He's screaming loud and bold and raw and you wonder how his toes don't break from how hard he's kicking the tunnel walls.
You wonder what he saw. What the ganger said to him.
The Doctor had found you not long after he'd found Donna. It had been ten years since you had last seen him. Ten long years since you'd agonized over unrequited love and left him with nothing but a passing glance over your shoulder as you parted from the TARDIS.
Now he's come back, and that love you had buried for so long has come bubbling back to the surface.
You hate yourself for loving him.
You can't help it though.
It isn't until the screams fades into uneasy, tense silence that you dare to lift your eyes to meet his. There's a lot of turmoil in those eyes. He hasn't told you what happened in the ten years you've been apart. Not yet. You wonder if he ever will.
It's very clear that whatever he did, whoever he lost... wounded him. The Doctor may appear to be this cold, unyielding being of infinite wisdom and live. They may have called him The Oncoming Storm. The Valeyard.
He is not. Underneath that exterior is an ancient being longing for companionship. For somewhere safe to land when so often people use him as their safe place to land. Him. The hero.
But where do heroes go when the universe becomes too much for them to handle singlehandedly?
"Hey," You reach for his hand and hold it to your chest. His whole aspects softens at the gesture. This version of The Doctor is so much more open than the last time you saw him. So much more honest, vulnerable, so much more loving. "Are you... you?"
His gaze is questioning as you look at each other before he averts his gaze to the floor. You're getting closer. He's apprehensive, clearly, but The Doctor really wants you to take your fingers idle at your side and card them through his hair. "The last time I saw you," The Doctor murmurs. "You were leaving the TARDIS with the Smiths. Sarah Jane, it was. Said you were going to go make the world a better place-"
"In your honor," You admit. You don't miss how the hand pressed to your chest trembles at the remark, and something catches in his throat as you lift your idle hand to card your fingers through his hair. "Because you were the most remarkable man who'd ever come into my life. And I loved it. I loved you."
You're close enough now that you can feel him. All of him.
The Doctor exhales softly against your face as you lift his chin with your thumb so he'll finally meet your eyes. You're aching to know what has cut him so deeply. What he'll let you do in mending the damage to those ancient, broken hearts of his that have only ever been partially stitched.
Because every time a companion left, or they died, the stitches broke.
"Loved?" The Doctor asked.
Lifting yourself to your tiptoes, you tangle your fingers in the short hair and his nape and whisper, "Love."
And when you come together, he kisses you like a man who's been deprived of air for too long. You are what he needs to breathe.
And he is your safe spot to land.
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