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foreverdolly · 1 month

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 4.5k

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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.

The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .

There’s you.

And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.

This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.

If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.

The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?

Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.

The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.

The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.

They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.

No one could save you.

“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.

How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.

“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.

Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.

“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”

You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.

The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.

“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.

He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.

“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.

You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.

“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.

A pause.

“Please.” And then he went back to eating.

So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.

“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.

Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.

“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”

Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.

“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.

For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.

“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.

“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”

He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.

“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.

Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.

“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.

“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”

That awful, ugly, no good-

“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed.

You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things.

‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’

You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics.

You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered.

“Do all women take this long to get ready?”

You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf.

He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring.

He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous.

“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms.

You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited.

You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have.

“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction.

Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away.

The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth.

You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm.

You waited. And waited. And waited.

“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand.

There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?

“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far.

You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket.

You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack.

“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm.

“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce.

“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement.

“No.”

“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.”

Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest.

“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . . spineless.”

You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he.

“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him.

‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you.

“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred.

“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice.

You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together.

“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . .

Aimed at his throat.

He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him.

And then he leaned in closer. And closer.

“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.

You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. . . the natural musk of his skin.

“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin.

He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it.

“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own.

Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in.

“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you.

He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole.

They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with.

When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain.

But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it.

‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’

His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft.

“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair.

Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire.

And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood.

“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now.

“I wanted to.” You conceded.

“Then you should have tried harder.”

Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused.

There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone.

And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably.

There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land.

He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now.

Like the fact that he had almost kissed you.

Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you.

You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now.

Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating.

Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped.

“Atreides.”

The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized.

No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . .

Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger.

‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier.

He had been trying to warn you.

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ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune part 2 #dune #austin butler #austin butler x reader #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #dune fanfiction #feyd rautha fic #austin butler fic

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lincolndjarin · 3 months

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Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary.

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark.

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him.

But you can’t.

So you don’t.

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away.

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle.

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence.

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from.

Lose your leg or starve.

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful.

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge.

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable.

So there’s only one other option for you.

You steal.

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk.

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching.

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day.

You need more.

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea.

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal.

The only problem is your neighbors reputation.

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time.

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty.

So you’d have to be careful.

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area.

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings.

Lucky you.

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process.

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor.

A revolver.

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window?

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear.

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness.

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way.

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you.

No one would look for you.

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner.

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all.

He isn’t a terrible last sight.

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.”

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you.

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes.

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed.

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch.

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit.

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all.

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all.

Fuck.

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh.

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively.

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?”

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself.

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?”

A lot.

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes.

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you.

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising.

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.”

You told him you’d think about it.

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help.

And just like that, it was your idea.

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after.

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did.

But he wanted nothing of the sort.

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning.

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before.

He must like having someone to take care of.

That’s how you explain it to yourself.

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you.

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was.

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that.

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was.

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already.

He had acted unsure.

You know now that it was acting.

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him.

It was your idea.

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you.

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come.

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning.

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment.

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet.

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his.

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed.

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them.

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg.

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing.

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs.

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend.

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go.

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that.

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them.

“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing.

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister.

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other.

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one.

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down.

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall.

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it.

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about.

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules.

You keep Jackson moving.

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms.

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises.

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule.

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans.

“Maria gets to go on patrol.”

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls.

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two.

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work.

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son.

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work.

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing.

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists.

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.”

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.”

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated.

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother.

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone.

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs.

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to.

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.)

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks.

It’s all exactly how it should be.

Until she frowns.

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol.

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow.

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.”

Odd.

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent.

It’s a look of pity.

As if she feels bad for even asking.

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind.

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one.

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed.

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different.

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy.

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light.

God, you're tired.

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday.

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment.

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams.

It works.

Your dreams never feature him.

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays.

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

#lincolndjarin #fic : every now and then #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou joel #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #joel x reader #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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wishesunderthestars · 7 months

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Eunoia // Ch. 26

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 12.1k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence,

Masterlist

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It was the second time Taehyung was in Jungkook’s atelier—only recently had Jungkook started thinking of it like that, before it was the atelier—but he was looking around him like it was a fairytale and everything was made of magic. Jungkook guessed he must have looked a little like that as well the first time you had shown him the room and told him it was his to do as he pleased. Athens and the Parthenon stretching on the wall never failed to inspire wonder and a deep respect in him, regardless of how long it had been since the first time he walked inside.

Everything else in the room was quite different from that first day. The once pristine and unused room was now splattered in paint. It was everywhere, on the floor and the cabinets and on the many newspapers that he used to cover everything. The first time he had stained the floor with paint, he had gone to you with teary eyes, lowered ears, and a hundred apologies on the tip of his tongue. You had simply laughed and told him that the room was his and he could paint the whole floor if he wanted to. The only thing you asked of him was to be careful of the wall painting. Jungkook would have never touched it in the first place.

Finished canvases were leaning against the cabinets and the walls. Most of them were of places Jungkook found beautiful, the Eiffel Tower, the Parthenon, a neighborhood in Amsterdam he had seen in one of your photos. There were also a few paintings of the pack, you and Seokjin cooking in the kitchen, Yoongi playing the piano, Namjoon and Hoseok under the large tree in the garden, Taehyung with Alice at the lake, and Jimin smiling so wide his eyes turned into crescent moons.

Jungkook longed for Jimin with an insatiable hunger. Now that he had gotten a taste of him once and Jimin told him he wanted it, now that there was no guilt and anguish, he couldn’t get enough of him. He wanted to always be touching him, holding him, and scenting him. His scent was like an aphrodisiac to him and he was addicted.

However, when Taehyung had shyly asked about his atelier, he was compelled to show it to him. It wasn’t often that Taehyung asked for anything and although he hadn’t specifically asked to see the room, Jungkook knew he would like it. Taehyung’s smile was also addicting and rare like a precious gem. So, he had left Jimin with Seokjin to cook in the kitchen and had taken Taehyung’s hand and climbed down the stairs. His hand was soft and he could still feel its ghost on his palm.

He was right, Taehyung’s smile was worth it. It was a tiny one, a small curve of his lips, but it was stunning.

His tiger ears twitched when his eyes landed on the painting of him. He approached slowly, taking it in. A hand reached out but he drew it back before it could touch the canvas.

In the painting, Alice was grinning brightly at Taehyung, one of her rainbow butterfly hair-clips clipped on his dark hair. But what Jungkook loved the most about it was Taehyung’s smile. For the first time, with Alice, Taehyung looked genuinely happy. The painting didn’t do the moment justice, he hadn’t managed to capture the tiger hybrid perfectly. He had taken a picture of the two of them and used it as reference but it was difficult, almost impossible, to immortalize Taehyung’s beauty in that moment.

“Do you like it?” Jungkook asked gently.

Taehyung startled as if the painting had enchanted him and Jungkook’s voice broke the spell. He hugged himself with one hand, almost like he wanted to stop himself from touching the painting. “It’s… beautiful.”

“It was a beautiful moment,” Jungkook agreed. “Alice is incredible, right?”

Taehyung nodded slowly. “I… have it. The butterfly. She doesn’t want back… it.”

They both looked at the painting. Jungkook wasn’t sure if they were seeing the same thing but maybe they were.

“Do you want to paint again?” he asked, breaking the silence. He took down the half-finished canvas of a beach from the easel and replaced it with a blank canvas.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to agree this time. They picked up different brushes, chose a few tubes of oil paint and set themselves to work. Jungkook showed him how to paint a sunset—he had perfected the skill through a lot of observation and many YouTube videos. Taehyung seemed to have fun blending the colors and drawing the shapes of semi-transparent clouds.

They stayed in the atelier for a few hours until they were called for dinner by Hoseok, whose heart-shaped smile at seeing them together in their paint-splattered clothes rivaled the beauty of the sunset. After the meal, Jungkook asked if Taehyung would like to take the painting of him and Alice to his room. They hung it on the wall with Yoongi’s help and went back to the garden together.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were filming at Monmouth Manufacturing for the day. They were the last couple of scenes you would be filming there for Season 1. Hopefully—and most probably—, you would see it again next year, or the year after that, filming for Season 2. First, you would have to finish Crooked Kingdom and then towards the end of the year, maybe you could work on the Raven Cycle. Your schedule was already crazy and you were troubled about what that meant for the next year.

A headache was brewing behind your temples and you were trying very hard to ignore it. You had been at the studios since 6 o’clock in the morning and you were going crazy. It would be one of those 15-16 hour days. You could see it coming. The executive producer of Paper Hearts had called to tell you that you were desperately needed for a board meeting for the next season. They had changed the time of the meeting to later in the afternoon to fit your schedule, which proved that it was important. You dreaded the drive to the other side of Los Angeles and what was sure to be a very long discussion.

During your lunch break, you texted Namjoon that you would be late again. He didn’t say anything but you knew he was disappointed. He had to be. You had barely spent any time with them in the past few days. There were also matters you still had to discuss. You hadn’t told the other hybrids about the thing between the three of you and they deserved to know. Your headache got worse just thinking about it.

You flipped through the script during a small break, sipping on your third cup of coffee of the day. It was making you jittery but the other option was falling asleep in your chair.

“Okay, I think we are good to move on to the next scene,” you told Will. “And then we’re done for the day.”

“Should I get someone to call the actors?”

“Yeah, see if they are done with makeup and send them in.” You rolled your neck and let out a heavy sigh. “All things considered it’s going pretty well.”

Will chuckled as he motioned for someone from the staff to come closer. “For someone who’s been here since six, you’re doing remarkably well.”

You waited for him to send the man to fetch the actors before speaking again. “We’ll see about that when we’re done with this scene. If I’m on my feet and awake by then, I deserve an award.”

Will shrugged, leaning back on his chair. “I’ve seen you do worse. Do you remember when we were filming ‘The Grand Masquerade’ in Prague? You were running on three hours of sleep a night for a week. I thought you would fall asleep during filming and wouldn’t wake up for a couple of days.”

“I was younger then,” you shrugged it off. You eyed the script again, focusing on your notes. “ I don’t have the same energy.”

“It was three years ago.”

“Three years can be a long time.”

You could understand that better than anyone, considering that this year sometimes seemed like a decade to you. In a year, your whole life had changed. You were different, everything was different from last year. Three years could be a very long time, indeed. But also the blink of an eye.

One of the actors arrived and you both greeted him. Soon, he was swept away by the movement director.

“I think you need another break,” Will declared in all of his dramatic glory.

You tapped your long nails on your plastic cup, the action was strangely soothing. “I think I need another coffee.”

“You certainly need a break,” Will insisted. “And you certainly don’t need another coffee.”

He had noticed your restlessness, then. “We just came back from a break. And there is no time for another one. After we are done here, promotions for Six of Crows begin then there is the premiere and the tour and they are getting everything ready to begin filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts. And Crooked Kingdom is next year and I am very behind on that.”

Will’s face did that thing he did whenever he was done with you, his features slacking like he was bored and a little irritated. “You can’t be behind on something that hasn’t even started yet. Be serious.”

“I am. Deadly.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Break. You need a break.”

The rest of the actors arrived then and the subject was dropped in favor of going over the details of the scene with them. They took their places and filming began. There was a place where the scene kept being snagged and you had to go over it four times to get it right and five more to perfect it.

By the end, you were running like you were being hunted to find John and drive to the company building. The meeting as you had expected was long and tiring. At least, it was a productive one. You discussed the script, the new additions, and the schedule. You shared a few worries and disagreements you had and you mostly managed to find the middle ground. Another meeting would be held in a week before filming would officially start in a few weeks.

It was past eleven when you opened the door of the Castle. No one was in the living room, which was to be expected.

“I’m back!” you shouted, even though no one would hear you if they were in the garden. The night was warm and your skin felt stifling. Sweat dotted your forehead and the change of temperature, when you walked inside the air-conditioned Castle, sent a shock through your system. Your legs had turned to stones and you struggled to take off your shoes.

All you wanted was to fall asleep. You opened the balcony door and shouted again that you were back and that you would be in your room. You closed it before you could hear any replies.

In your room, you had to force yourself to change into your pajamas instead of falling face-first onto your bed in your dirty clothes. You didn’t have the energy to take a shower like you usually did at the end of the day. Your appetite had also disappeared. You hadn’t eaten dinner but you weren’t hungry. You were taking off your makeup in the bathroom when there was a knock on your door.

For a moment, you debated not answering but you dismissed the thought instantly.

“Come in,” you called. “I’m in the bathroom.”

You heard the door open and close again. You dragged the cotton pad roughly across your face, you didn’t have the patience to be gentle and it left your skin red. Some days it was just too sensitive.

“Are you alright?” The care in Seokjin’s voice tugged at the tight knot in your chest, loosened it. You glanced at the door but he wasn’t there.

Most of the makeup was gone from your face and you looked like a mess. You threw the cotton pads in the bin and washed your face quickly to get rid of the mascara under your eyes and any stubborn residues of makeup.

Seokjin was standing by your vanity, waiting for you. It wasn’t often that he came to your room. You weren’t used to seeing him there but it felt right.

“For someone who has been running around for more than sixteen hours, I am peachy,” you tried to joke but the delivery was lacking. It was confirmed by Seokjin’s frown.

“That’s too much, even for you. That isn’t healthy.”

“It is what it is,” you said, trying not to sound defensive. “It isn’t something I haven’t done before. And tomorrow’s schedule is easier so it’s alright.”

That didn’t seem to do anything to ease his mind. “Because you did it before, it doesn’t mean you should keep doing that.”

You rubbed your temples, your headache was getting worse. “There are things that need to get done. I can’t just stop because I’m tired. I get calls all day and my inbox is full of emails I haven’t answered yet. I have a million things on my plate, I can’t ignore them.”

“I know,” Seokjin said, his tone softer. He came closer to you and took your hand in his. The touch was grounding. You hadn’t realized you were spiraling until your feet were planted on the earth again. “We know how important your work is and how much effort you have put in to be where we are. It’s admirable and it’s incredible that you’ve managed to do all this. But your health is important too. You can’t keep running with an empty tank. You need to rest too.”

You heaved a sigh and let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. Your nose wasn’t as sensitive as a hybrid’s but breathing in the familiar sweetness calmed you. He hugged you and drew you closer to him, his hand kneading the tense muscles of your shoulders and the back of your neck.

“We missed you,” he said almost in a whisper.

“You always miss me.”

Seokjin stayed quiet but you both knew. They always missed you because you were always gone.

“You should eat something before you fall asleep. Yoongi and I made gnocchi with prosciutto and parmesan and garlic bread with mozzarella. I can bring it here but I think it would be best if you ate in the kitchen. Everyone wants to see you but they don’t want to bother you.”

The simple act of going to the kitchen sounded like climbing a mountain. Your bed looked too attractive, only a meter away and very very soft. Your eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep and yet…

“I’ll come to the kitchen,” you said. Having woken up at five, you hadn’t seen anyone before leaving. The thought of not seeing them at all today left a sour taste in your mouth. “But can we stay here? For a bit?”

Seokjin placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head. “Of course. For as long as you want.”

You lost track of time in his arms but no more than five minutes must have passed by the time you pulled back with a heavy heart. A temporary balm had been applied to the ailments of the day. You could hold yourself up for a few more minutes to eat a little, you had been doing it all day.

Your legs were as heavy as concrete walking to the kitchen. You had to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, otherwise, you might just collapse. There was noise coming from the kitchen but your tired mind couldn’t register what they were saying.

You were surprised to see that everyone was there waiting for you, even Taehyung. Yoongi placed the plates in front of your seat and Jimin added the cutlery. Everyone else was sitting around the table in their usual stools.

Their greetings were quieter than usual and you guessed that they were conscious of how tired you were. You gave them the warmest smile you could master and patted Hoseok’s hair as you passed by to take your seat. The aroma of the food made your stomach growl, you hadn’t realized how hungry you had been before. Your appetite was back. Everything looked incredible as always and you couldn’t wait to dig in.

“Are you all just going to look at me while I eat?” you asked, picking up your fork.

The hybrids looked sheepish at your question.

“We just wanted to see you,” Jungkook said. “You left too early in the morning.”

You had to compose yourself to pierce a couple of gnocchi with your fork and not sigh out loud. Yoongi’s eyes were heavy on you, they were the ones you could detect with the most ease. You were the most aware of him.

“I had too much to do today. They have been bugging me from the studios for days. If I didn’t start early, I would have never finished. And I prefer an early morning to a late night. I tend to work better in the morning.”

You forced the fork to your mouth. You were ravenous but the conversation stalled your appetite.

“I would think that this was considered a late night,” Namjoon pointed out.

The taste, as expected, was heavenly. The creaminess of the parmesan sauce was tied perfectly with the savory crispy prosciutto. In your condition, you felt like it was wasted on you. As hungry as you were, you just wanted to put your fork down and go to sleep. But you couldn’t do that. You were better than that, you could eat something and then you could go to sleep. You could do that, you had done this before. Hadn’t you?

“This isn’t a late night,” you said after you swallowed the delicious bite. You had to eat another one. And another one. “Late nights can be anything from three a.m. to the next morning. This doesn’t happen often but I really had too many things to do. This is just for a few weeks because we’re moving very fast with the Raven Boys and filming for Season 6 of Paper Hearts will start soon. There are a lot of meetings and things they need my opinion on, it will actually be better once filming starts. They don’t need me as much then.”

You pushed the gnocchi around and you could tell they didn’t believe you without looking at them. It was true that your workload was heavier these days but you couldn’t exactly guarantee that it would get better soon. Filming for the Raven Cycle had been going exceptionally well and it was moving faster than you had originally planned. It would be wrapping up by the end of September or by early October at the latest. Wrapping up was a lot of work, the beginning and the end were the busiest parts.

The rest of autumn was going to be very difficult too. There was the premier as well, which added to your workload greatly. It would take up all of November and the work for it would start from October. Maybe December would be calmer. Maybe.

You ate the rest of your meal in relative silence. They didn’t talk more about you leaving early and coming back late although you knew they wanted to. Their voices were quiet as they talked about anything from witches in cartoons to color theory. You let their words play in the background like the sound from a TV as you tried to eat as much as you could.

The result was a half-finished plate of gnocchi and one less garlic bread with mozzarella. Your eyes were closing involuntarily by then, staying closed for longer periods each time. If you didn’t go to sleep now, you would fall face-first into the gnocchi.

You slid off your seat and balanced yourself on numb legs. “Thank you for this, it was delicious. But I really need to go to sleep now.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin said, glancing at half of the food still on the plate. “You should rest.”

“At what time do you start work tomorrow?” Yoongi asked. He had been silent during your dinner and his voice rang louder than the rest to your ears.

It must have taken a few seconds to navigate the fog in your mind before you could answer. “Filming starts around nine, so I should be there by eight. Half past eight at most.”

“That’s still too early,” Hoseok said, frowning.

You waved their worries off. They had better things to worry about than the job you had been doing for half of your life. “It isn’t too early. I can sleep for a decent number of hours before I have to get ready. It’s alright, really. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams.”

With effort, you dragged your body to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning on the lights and stumbled to your bed guided only by the moonlight. There wasn’t a point in closing the blinds when you would wake up around the time the sun was rising. The light of your phone was too bright in the darkness and it made your eyes sting as you set an alarm.

A few messages caught your attention but a knock stopped you before you could open them.

“Come in,” you called, setting your phone aside. The door opened and the light from the hallway slipped in, outlining the silhouettes of the two hybrids. “Is everything okay?”

They both nodded and Jimin took a few steps into the room. “Can we sleep here tonight?”

“Both of you?” you asked, half-suppressing a yawn. Unlike Jimin, Jungkook hadn’t slept in your room before and the only time you had shared a bed was in Virginia.

Jungkook’s bunny ears drooped. “I can go, I don’t mind. I just missed you.”

“Sorry, that isn’t how I meant it.” Your surroundings were a bit blurry, the minutes stretched but were also impossibly short. It felt a little like life was a dream when you were tired like this. “Come in, both of you. And close the door behind you. It is blinding me a bit.”

They hurried inside and did as you told them. You couldn’t see them well as they moved through the darkness. They surrounded you, lying on different sides. Jimin didn’t hesitate to draw closer, throwing an arm over your stomach. Jungkook was a little stiffer on your left like he didn’t know how to situate himself. You found his hand, intertwining your fingers, and a quiet sigh escaped his lips.

It felt right, lying between them. Like that was how it was meant to be. But maybe that was the exhaustion talking, the dream realm slipping into the waking world.

“I missed you too,” you whispered. “Now sleep. I have an alarm set for the morning.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Summer bled seamlessly into autumn. The change wasn’t apparent in the Castle, autumn had only arrived in name. The heat was still there and would remain for some time. During the days, it still made sweat drip down your temples the few times you filmed outside the studios but the nights were comfortable and moon-bright.

You had a couple of hours free between takes and nothing to do so you got into your car (John had taken the day off to spend some time with Alice) and started the engine. “Nothing to do” was a relative term of course. There were many things you could be doing, countless extra little tasks that crowded your thoughts, but you disregarded all of them. You had been spending whole days away from home and you were beginning to feel guilty about it.

On your way back, you stopped by your favorite homemade gelato shop. In San Diego, you had gone for gelato the first day and the hybrids had loved it. You had made it a habit to get gelato at the beginning of each day during ComicCon, it was your little ritual. You had ordered gelato a couple of times to the Castle as well but with eight people, it didn’t last more than a day.

There were dozens of flavors behind the display case, all of them looking delectable. You got a wide variety, remembering the flavors they liked the most. You picked hazelnut, tiramisu, chocolate chip cookie, almond, caramel, coconut, cream and sour cherry, nutella, and vanilla and asked for 1 kilo of each to be delivered to your house. It was too hot and your house was too far to transport them in your car.

You didn’t have to wait more than a few minutes outside the gate before the delivery boy arrived. You got the bags full of gelato containers from him and sent him off with a hefty tip. The Castle was a long way from the heart of the city and anyone willing to make deliveries there deserved a nice tip.

Unlocking and opening the door was a struggle but you managed. You shouted you were back and fast-walked down the stairs, the plastic bags digging into your hands. On the second level, you were faced with Jungkook, who was also climbing the stairs to reach you. He looked as if he was ready to attack you with a hug before noticing the bags.

“A little help?” you asked, raising the bags a little higher. Your arms protested loudly.

Jungkook quickly took most of the bags from you and if you hadn’t been the one carrying them before, you would have believed they were light as a feather with the way he was holding them. “What are all these?” he asked, peeking into the bags. His eyes sparkled and his smile widened in realization when he spotted the containers. “Is that–?”

“Gelato,” you said, a little proud of yourself for thinking of making the stop on your way back.

Jungkook’s steps turned into little hops. “You are the best! How much did you get? Are these all different flavors?”

“You will see…”

Jungkook made a sound close to a petulant whine. “Come on,” he said, dragging the vowels. “What are they? Did you get hazelnut?”

“We’re almost there. You’ll see in a minute.” The garden was coming into view as you climbed down to the last level but Jungkook still turned back to pout at you. “Dramatic bunny,” you muttered lowly but not low enough for his enhanced hearing not to pick it up. You didn’t mind, his giggles were cute.

At the bottom of the stairs, Namjoon and Seokjin were waiting for you.

Seokjin squeezed your wrist in greeting before saying, “He is a very dramatic bunny.”

“Hey! You should be on my side!”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows. “And why is that?” And that set off a round of bickering as they walked to the table to set down the bags.

Despite your protests, Namjoon took the last bags from you. “You should accept a little help from time to time,” he said firmly. You knew that he meant it for more than this. You decided to ignore it for now, you would overthink this later.

“Everyone, gather around! I brought gelato!” you called.

In a few minutes, everyone was gathered around the table. Hoseok, upon seeing the many containers of gelato, had done a happy dance, kissed your cheek and ran upstairs with Seokjin to get bowls and spoons. Jimin had wrapped himself around your back and was licking his lips, which was highly distracting. You shouldn’t be thinking about this.

Taehyung was the quietest one, as he usually was. He was sitting next to Yoongi, looking at all the containers with parted lips.

“I got gelato for us,” you told him. “It is really good. I got a lot of flavors so you can try as many as you want.”

“Gelato,” Taehyung repeated softly, gazing at the containers spread over the table.

Hoseok and Seokjin arrived with eight bowls, too many spoons and three ice cream scoops—you didn’t even know you had that many—and set them down around the table. You busied yourself with opening all the containers. You already knew which flavors you wanted so you grabbed one of the scoops and served yourself three scoops of ice cream.

Jimin had hooked his chin over your shoulder and wasn’t making any move to serve himself. That was up to you then.

“Which flavor do you want?” you asked him, dipping the scoop into the cup of water.

He rubbed his cheek against your shoulder lazily. “Hmmm, I think I want to try a few before I decide.”

You decided to indulge him, you liked it when he got playful and joked with you. You preferred when he was confident and asked for what he wanted. It was beautiful to witness how much he had changed through the months. You dipped a spoon into the flavors in your bowl first and brought them to his mouth. He savored each spoonful, humming and licking his full lips. He was so close to you, if you turned completely your noses would touch. How did you always end up in these situations lately?

“I want that too,” Jungkook said, pouting and pointing at your spoon. He was sitting at the bench and he had his own bowl in front of him, filled with four scoops of gelato.

“You want almond?” you asked.

“No, I want to be fed too.”

“You really are a baby,” Seokjin said. “Is that what’s going to be happening now? Whatever one has the other wants too?”

Jungkook looked away, taking his spoon again disappointed. “No, it just looked nice. It felt nice to be cared for when we were at the lake. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I just wanted to ask.”

At the lake, you had been feeding them strawberries dipped in chocolate and your mind had run too wild. You should stop thinking about that. “I want to, you are just a little far. I can’t really reach.”

Jimin was about to say something, probably offer a solution but before he could, Seokjin had picked up Jungkook and plopped him down in his lap.

“Here, I will feed you, you big baby. Is this alright?” he asked, ever caring.

Jungkook squirmed a little but seemed pleased, a light flush settling on his cheeks. “Yes, of course.” He was as tall as Seokjin but in his lap, he looked much smaller. He opened his mouth obediently when Seokjin brought the spoon to his lips.

Your eyes strayed to Taehyung, you were hyper-aware of him whenever you were in the same place. His eyes had that look that you couldn’t understand, it was there every time you interacted with the other hybrids lately. They were telling you that he was opening up more these days but to you, he remained a mystery.

In the end, Jimin ate most of your gelato and you scooped some chocolate chip cookie into your bowl because you knew how much he liked it. Hoseok and Namjoon closed the containers and carried them upstairs, they returned and went to sit by the pool. Yoongi finished quickly and lied down under the shade of the tree closest to them. Jungkook grew sleepy and turned to the side, laying his head on Seokjin’s shoulder. Jimin joined them, hugging Jungkook from the side.

Taehyung stayed at the bench like he wasn’t sure where he should go, his empty bowl in front of him.

“Did you like it?” you asked, gesturing to his bowl. Another reminder of your shortcomings, you didn’t even know how much he had progressed in English.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied. The low timbre of his voice surprised you each time. You heard it so rarely that you didn’t get the chance to get used to it.

You should make an effort to talk to him, avoiding him would only make matters worse. But you couldn’t find anything to say. What exactly could you say to him, who had lived most of his life like a caged animal, who you had bought at an illegal auction?

Suddenly, you had the equivalent of a light bulb lighting up next to your head in a cartoon.

“Hobi told me you liked the painting of the pomegranate in the gallery,” you said then realized that pomegranate was probably a word he couldn’t understand and proceeded to explain the painting. “It has glass around it and a hand is holding it. Am I making sense?”

Seokjin looked at you amused but Taehyung nodded in understanding. “It is beautiful.”

“Right, it is,” you agreed. “The artist, the one who made it, is holding an exhibition in LA. We could go if you would like.”

You had bought the painting from her long before her fame had grown and spread. There was a magic to the way Eliana Velasco painted, everything came alive under her brush strokes. The painting of the pomegranate had enchanted you and given your history, you had to have it.

“Go?” he repeated, clearly confused.

“Yeah, to a place that has many of her paintings. You can see them there. Would you like that?” Talking to him, you were more nervous than at any of the award shows you had attended the past few years, more nervous than during any contract negotiations.

Taehyung’s eyes widened a fraction before he nodded. “Can I… see them?”

“Of course,” you said.

Jungkook stirred against Seokjin’s shoulder. “Are we going to an exhibition?”

“If you want to.”

“Are you going to be there too?” he asked and that was harder to answer. Your schedule was the busiest it had been in months and you were drowning in deadlines and responsibilities. You were saved from answering him by a notification on your phone. The numbers displaying the time showed that you were late to leave. You pocketed your phone and with quick goodbyes, you disappeared.

You were so stupid. You had offered to take Taehyung to an exhibition when work was wrapped around you like a noose. But you had panicked. Eliana had sent you an invitation for the opening night, promising there would be French champagne and hors d’ oeuvres. You had attended plenty of her exhibitions and had many conversations about art and life and their inter-connected philosophy while drinking champagne or wine and staring at paintings.

Although Taehyung’s situation was solved and Amelia had let you know some time ago that legally you were safe, going to the opening night didn’t sound like a good idea. There would be many journalists there who would love to write a piece about you and your sudden decision to adopt so many hybrids. They could go without you another day, that wouldn’t be too bad. Taehyung looked so hopeful and now that you had said it, you couldn’t take it back. You could text Eliana and ask her if she could meet you there one day so you could introduce her to them.

You should try and get some time off.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It was like a curse, to not be able to sleep in the very few hours you could afford to. Your bed was empty and cold and you couldn’t get comfortable regardless of how much you twisted and turned. Your limbs were too long and awkward and nothing felt right. All the wild thoughts you couldn’t be bothered with during the day showed up one after the other to be examined from every angle and set aside to pick up the next one. It was a losing battle and yet you insisted on fighting it every time before giving in, getting up and popping a pill into your mouth.

You returned the bottle to the cabinet and closed it. After Seoul, for some time it had returned to your bedside table but after a couple of weeks had passed it felt like you were admitting defeat by keeping it there. The image in the mirror was a far cry from the celebrity you were supposed to be. The darkness under your eyes formed bruises, getting worse by the day. Your skin had grown pale and your hair was a mess, you hadn’t had enough strength to braid it before attempting to fall asleep.

You considered going back to bed but the pills could take up to an hour to work when your insomnia reached its peak and you were craving a snack. Something small and sweet sounded nice.

Once again, you had returned late and eaten dinner alone. Your appetite was lacking although the food was delicious. Sometimes, it got like that when you were too tired. You had promised yourself to limit early mornings and late nights but that had changed when you had texted Eliana about the exhibition. She had offered to accompany you to the exhibition on one of the days it was closed to the public and you were more than thankful to her but that also meant that you would have to take half the day off.

The TV was on in the living room, subtitles displayed at the bottom of the screen with no sound. Namjoon was sitting on the couch, arms crossed and watching with distracted eyes. Everyone else had departed to their rooms for the night. His ears twitched as you took a few more steps and he turned to look at you.

You waved your hand, trying to offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He sat up straighter. “Hi. Why are you still awake? Do you need something?”

“Just some water. Maybe a snack.”

“You were really tired when you went to bed. Did you not fall asleep?” he asked, frowning.

You shrugged. “I couldn’t. It’s one of those nights. If I eat something, maybe I will fall asleep easier. A full stomach and all that.” You didn’t mention the pill, it was awkward to do that. “Don’t let me disturb you. I’ll just grab something and go back to bed.”

Namjoon got up and in a few strides, he was standing in front of you. He caressed your cheek, searching for something in your eyes. You weren’t sure what he could see there. “I’ll join you. Let’s sit together for a bit. I haven’t seen you properly in a few days.”

“But you must have stayed back to watch that,” you said. A documentary was playing on the TV, something about Egyptian history.

“It doesn’t matter. I would rather spend my time with you. Unless you don’t want to, then I’ll go back to the couch and be very quiet.”

You slid your hand in his, the touch grounding you in a night that felt both like you were wide awake and caught in a blurry dream. “I would like some company. I’ve missed you too. I’m–”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. There is no need for that.”

He leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered for a few moments, warmth spreading inside you. You raised your head and captured his lips in a kiss. The worst part was that you couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had last shared a kiss. His lips were velvet as you remembered them. This was home. Running back and forth, you had forgotten what it felt like.

You pulled back and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go.”

In the kitchen, Namjoon stood next to you as you rummaged through the cupboards for something that looked appetizing to you. The cupboards were full and yet nothing was calling to you until Namjoon remembered that Seokjin had made ice cream sandwiches with the gelato you had bought and various kinds of cookies. That sounded like heaven so you opened the freezer and chose two of them.

You leaned against the counter, shoulder to shoulder with Namjoon, while you devoured them. Gelato might not have been the best idea to put you to sleep but they tasted heavenly. The pill would start working sooner or later.

“Is it worse today?” he asked. He didn’t elaborate further, he didn’t have to.

The ice cream sandwiches were gone and you were left holding the plate. You licked your fingers and placed it in the sink. “I have a lot of things on my mind. I should be too tired to think but apparently, I’m never too tired for that.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Everything, more or less.” You turned to the side, facing him. “There’s too much to think about and not enough time. Never enough time,” you muttered the last sentence to yourself. If you had all the time in the world it would still not be enough, you would find a way to fill it. “I’ve been putting everything off. Everything I don’t want to deal with or I don’t know how to deal with. And the longer I put it off, the worse it gets.”

He was quiet for a few seconds, taking in what you said and pondering how to reply. It was beautiful, how his mind worked and how attentive he was. “If there is any way we can help you, anything I–we can do, we will. Whatever you want to do, we will support you. Sometimes, in our head, we can make things look bigger, more scary than they are. Do you want to talk about them? Maybe if you talk about what you have to do or what you’re worried about, it will be easier to work out the best way to approach them.”

That was something your therapist used to tell you, that while things festered in your head, they would only get more tangled and more daunting. She had suggested writing them down or talking to her about them. She was right, you knew she was right and that it helped and yet you hadn’t stopped to do that.

You took a deep breath, debating if it would be better to find a notebook and figure out your mess on paper instead of dragging Namjoon into it. But there was a part of you that itched to confide in him and give in to the way you felt safe when you were together.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you confessed.

You started slowly, with your usual worries about Taehyung, how he was adjusting and how little time you were spending with him and if that was for the best. It was the same old spiralling, you had poked and prodded at it so many times and Namjoon must have been bored of listening to the same rehashed concerns, yet he didn’t interrupt you. You unravelled steadily, once you started speaking, you couldn’t stop. There was the filming for the Raven Cycle, the final touches of Six of Crows, the premiere and the weeks of promotions and the anticipation for the reviews of the critics and the audiences. The book you hadn’t finished and the deadline you couldn’t meet.

You rubbed your hands over your face. It had been so long since most of those problems had surfaced and you were ashamed that you hadn’t faced them yet. “And we haven’t told anyone about us. We said we would and I know you’re waiting for me but I’m never here. And I don’t know how.”

Namjoon caught your hand and brought it to his lips. Lowering it, his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your skin. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. They will understand and they will be happy for us. You shouldn’t let this keep you awake, everything will be alright. They are our pack, this won’t change anything.”

“But…” The anxiety that persisted. “Yoongi. What if his reaction is… bad. You know what he said.”

“That was before.” He sounded sure but there was a tightness at his jaw. “It is different now. He is different, you can see it. He is softer around the edges, he even helps Jin in the kitchen. He’s settling in.”

“Because he doesn’t know,” you said. “You remember what he said, right? That night? That I adopted you so I could take my pick and now there is Jin and it’s just too much like that, can’t you see it?”

“It’s nothing like that. We both–” Namjoon stiffened, his gaze locking somewhere towards the entrance. “Yoongi?”

Your heart rate sped up, a knot forming in your chest. Yoongi walked in, his socked feet not making a sound. How much had he heard? The last minutes of the conversation replayed in your mind in a panicked mess. What had you said? How long had he been there, listening to you, before Namjoon noticed him? What conclusions would he reach?

Instinctively, you tried to get away from Namjoon but his hold on your hand kept you there.

The panther’s face didn’t give anything away. You couldn’t read him regardless of how much you studied him. You didn’t know his tells, if he had any. His expression was a carefully curated mask of apathy and you couldn’t see past it. Or you didn’t dare to try. Maybe you were too afraid of what you would find.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked, voice missing some of its smoothness.

Namjoon held your hand tighter. “You are the only one who can sneak up on me.”

You swallowed down your anxiety and tried to think of him the way he was the past few months, when he helped you with rearranging your office, him playing the piano in the afternoons, your walk at the lake, the vague memory of him helping you up to your room when you were drunk in Virginia. But they were all pushed back by the memory of his snarl and his sharp teeth that night.

“How much did you hear?” you asked, forcing your voice to be steady. He was going to learn of it at some point and as scared as you were, you had to face this.

“Enough.” His tail curled behind him and stilled. “You are afraid of my reaction to something. Is that it?”

Your eyes locked with Namjoon’s and he nodded. This time you weren’t going to run. This time would be different. “Yes, there is something we wanted to tell you. Something we wanted to tell everyone. I didn’t know how to tell you, that’s all.”

“You can tell me now,” he said and it sounded almost like a dare. You weren’t sure if you were walking into a trap.

Namjoon spoke up before you could. “You remember that the two of us are… We are together, as humans would say, romantically.” Yoongi nodded. You couldn’t imagine how he could forget. “That extends to Jin now. We love him and he loves us.” It was almost like he was challenging him to say anything but Yoongi was quiet.

“We didn’t know how to tell everyone. And you…” You didn’t know how to finish.

He scoffed. “I was an asshole.” One side of his lips was twisted up but something about it hurt. “You didn’t want to tell me because I was an asshole when I found out about you two. Worse than an asshole.” He dropped his gaze to the floor, his shoulders were slumped as if in defeat. For a moment, you wished to reassure him but what he was saying was the truth. “I understand. I’m not– I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry.”

He turned to leave but, through your confusion, you knew you didn’t want him to go.

“Wait,” you called. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Let’s talk. We need to talk.”

Yoongi looked at you over his shoulder. This time, you studied him without your heavy-duty lenses, without the fear of discovery. Like the expression of an actor, you picked apart the tiniest details to paint a picture. When your own barriers were gone, it was easier to see.

“What is there to talk about?” he asked.

“A lot. Things we should have talked about sooner.” Communication was a golden rule in your handbook and you used to be good at it, you tried to be good at it. The misunderstanding trope was overused and useless when the issue could be resolved with a simple conversation.

It was about time you stopped walking on eggshells.

“We never truly talked about it,” you started. “And I didn’t really want to because things were going so well. They are going well. But you are my family now.” His lips parted, only slightly but you caught it. “I can’t know how all of you see it, if it’s the same for you, but that’s the way I feel. And I want to be honest with you. I still think about what you said in the garden and sometimes it affects me more than I would like. However, I would like to put it behind us but I want to know what you think.”

His eyes were sharp but you weren’t fooled this time. “Can we? Can we really put it behind us?”

Namjoon was silent next to you, he was letting you handle it.

“I think we are already beginning to.” You took a deep breath in preparation. There was a question that could make or break this peace between you and you were both dreading and dying to ask. “Do you think that I’m taking advantage of them because I love them romantically?”

His eyes widened. “No,” he denied sharply. “No, of course I don’t.”

It was like a knot unravelling in your heart. Although there was a part of you that had known, the relief was still there. “Then we can move past it. We can try again. We are already trying again.”

“How?” Yoongi asked and he sounded smaller, much smaller than you were used to.

The pills were beginning to act, it was a light drowsiness at first. You had to do this quickly before you fell asleep and crumbled down on the floor.

“The same way we are doing now. By doing our best.”

“I am trying” His hands clenched into fists and loosened again. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You don’t need to be. Not anymore. As long as I know that we are fine.” Your eyes were growing heavier and the fog was slipping in. “I think we should go to bed now,” you said. It was getting more and more difficult to open your eyes.

You must have stumbled or something because you heard Yoongi ask, “Are you alright?” at the same time as Namjoon’s “Do you want help?”

You waved them both off. “I’m fine. It’s the pills.” It was easier to admit when you were almost asleep. One moment your feet were on the floor and the next you were up in the air. “Joon?”

“I’m taking you to your room. It’s time for sleep.” One of his arms was under your knees and the other was holding you close to his body.

“Namjoon, I can walk,” you protested weakly. Namjoon shushed you and you let it go. You were so incredibly sleepy and you were safe there. You relaxed in his arms and finally closed your eyes.

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Most of the flowers were drooping in the garden of the Castle. Namjoon and Jimin were attempting to keep them alive for as long as possible before fall swept them away. They cut off the dead leaves, watered the plants and applied the appropriate fertilisers. There were also varieties that lasted all year and the gardener had taught them how to take care of them too.

“These won’t last much longer,” Jimin said, running his fingers gently over the petals of a slowly wilting flower.

“They will bloom again in spring,” Namjoon reassured him. “Each season has its beauty and these belong to spring and summer. Autumn has its own colors too but they are different.”

Jimin pulled his hand back and grabbed the watering can. “I know, but I will miss them.”

Namjoon patted his head and Jimin preened under his touch, chasing his hand. He was too cute sometimes and Namjoon adored him. “It’s okay to miss it but you can also be happy about the new things that are coming. Miss Roberts said she will bring sunflowers and hydrangeas to plant next week, it will add some color. When something ends, something else begins.”

Jimin giggled, watering the flowers although they would be dead next week. “Nora has told you many times to call her by her name.”

Namjoon rubbed the back of his head. “I forgot. I’m trying.”

Yoongi came out of the house, a book in his hand. He had been visiting the library more lately. Namjoon had been wondering where he had been. The rest of the pack had holed up in the cinema room to watch a comedy and, like the two of them, Yoongi had opted out but they hadn’t seen him since.

“Yoongi!” Jimin called, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding the watering can. “Come here. Sit with us, we are almost done.”

Yoongi paused, glancing at the table and benches on the other side of the garden.

“Come on,” Namjoon called for him as well. That was enough to sway Yoongi’s decision, who made his way to them.

Jimin bounced up to him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the flower bushes they were tending to. Yoongi grumbled about the rough treatment but Namjoon wasn’t fooled, the upturn of his lips was small but unmistakable.

Jimin explained to him what they had been doing so far and Yoongi listened to him attentively.

“They are beautiful. You have been doing a really good job. Both of you,” he said, his eyes darting to Namjoon.

He was tense, it wasn’t obvious but Namjoon could pick it up. He gave him a smile, hoping he would relax. Yoongi confused him but he thought he could understand him a little better now. “Thank you. What are you reading?”

“Oh, this?” Yoongi raised the book a little and shrugged. “I saw it and I thought it was interesting.”

“I haven’t seen that before,” Namjoon said.

The cover was painted in shades of yellow and orange, framing two pyramids. Without saying anything, Yoongi handed him the book. It was called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and it was a relatively short book. He turned it around to look at the synopsis and Jimin peeked at it over his shoulder. Namjoon wondered if you had read it or if it had been sitting there unread on your shelves for years. There were so many books in your library and you had admitted that you hadn’t read most of them, but you had also told them that once upon a time you used to read a hundred books a year.

“It does sound interesting,” Namjoon commented, passing back the book. “You should tell me if it is any good when you finish it.”

Yoongi looked down at the book’s cover. “I will.”

Jimin declared that they were done with gardening for the day and grabbed both of their hands, pulling them to the shade underneath one of the trees. They sat down and he situated himself with his head in Namjoon’s lap and his legs in Yoongi’s. Yoongi cracked open his book and began to read while Jimin talked about flowers.

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“And… CUT!” you called. It was repeated again by Will and the actors relaxed, the expressions of their characters wiped clean. “That will be it for today. Thank you everyone!”

The crew buzzed as the cameras and the sound systems were turned off. People were talking to their earpieces and others were giving pats on the back to each other for another successful day on set. Crew members passed by and offered their congratulations to you.

“What are you rushing for?” Will asked.

You continued throwing everything carelessly into your backpack. “I’m visiting the gallery today, remember?”

“Right, that’s today,” he said, snapping his fingers. Some things stuck with you in entertainment. For example, the overexaggerated gestures. “I thought you had a company meeting dressed like this. A very important one.”

In the morning, you had put more thought into your outfit compared to a simple filming day. You were wearing tan trousers and a form-fitting black top embellished by a crossover belt that wrapped around the body and was tied together with a golden Medusa head emblem. The heels, the golden earrings, bracelets, and rings confirmed that filming wasn’t the only thing on your schedule.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder (you would switch it later with a black Dior bag you had in your car). “No meetings for me today. I really have to go. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Have a good time, boss!”

You greeted any familiar faces on your way to your car and sent a quick message to Namjoon that you would be picking them up soon. The 8-seater car was an impulse purchase at a time when you had a larger friend group. You hadn’t used it much, only for a couple of short trips to private beaches.

You checked your appearance in the visor mirror and reapplied some powder and lipstick. You looked good enough, there wasn’t much more you could do.

The hybrids were waiting by the fountain. They had dressed nicely for the occasion, wearing some of the more formal outfits you had bought for them. You could feel the excitement in the air as they climbed into the car. It had been a long time since you had gone to the city like this. Jimin was quick to slide into the passenger seat, followed by a little happy dance at his success.

The exhibition was taking place in Central Los Angeles, housed in a tall and wide building that appeared to be made up of several cubes that jutted out of the main structure. Jungkook and Hoseok had their phones out, taking photos of the strange building. Distantly, you remembered coming here before but you couldn’t place when or why.

Eliana was waiting for you inside wearing a simple flowing blue dress and a large smile. You greeted each other with a hug and proceeded to introduce the boys to her. She shook their hands enthusiastically and in a few seconds she had already engaged them in a conversation about art. Usually, she talked quickly like she was rushing to get everything out before she forgot but she was talking slowly now, using simpler words and waiting for Hoseok to translate whenever he deemed he should.

She guided you through the gallery, floating ahead of you. She gave explanations of some of her works while she let others speak for themselves. Taehyung’s eyes were sparkling while she talked, in a way you had never seen before. His smile stayed on during your whole visit, big and boxy, and you finally felt like you were doing something right.

The other hybrids seemed to be enjoying themselves as well. Namjoon was asking plenty of questions about the meaning behind the paintings and her inspiration and Jungkook was very interested in the more technical aspect of her work. She readily answered all of their questions and when you pointed out that Jungkook spent a lot of his time painting, she encouraged him to show her some of his work. Although he was shy, hiding behind his floppy ears at first, Eliana managed to convince him to show her a few of the paintings he had on his phone. She was stunned when you told her he had only been painting for a few months and Jungkook grew even shier when she showered him in compliments.

At the end of the tour, she let you wander the gallery by yourselves for some time and then suggested going to the gallery’s gardens to hang out. The gardens were of considerable size, about as large as the inside of the gallery. Neatly trimmed flower bushes lined the pathways and plenty of modern sculptures decorated the space. A large fountain stood proudly in the middle and there was an artfully made gazebo raised on a platform at a far corner, overlooking the gardens.

You offered to go get some coffee and some baked goods from a nearby bakery/coffee shop you had found on the internet. Eliana protested at first but she gave in quickly at the promise of an iced Spanish latte and muffins. Namjoon volunteered to accompany you, although what surprised you was Yoongi offering to come along.

“You need more than two people to carry everything,” was the only explanation you got. You couldn’t deny that he was right.

He hadn’t been acting any different towards you since you had let him know about the nature of your relationship with Seokjin, so you acted the same way you always did too. His quiet acceptance was more than enough for you and it was a great weight off your shoulders.

You were talking about the exhibition, not surprised that Yoongi had been paying close attention to the paintings as he recalled his favorites, when a call of your name surprised you. The voice was familiar and, for a few seconds, you couldn’t place it. Until you could. And the peace froze over.

You turned around to find Jacob waving at you in the quiet street. His hair was cut much shorter than the last time you had seen him and his white loose pants and half-unbuttoned shirt made him look like he had just stepped off a yacht party. Maybe he had. His thousand-watt smile, reminiscent of a politician, was fixed firmly on his face.

“Hey, I knew it was you,” he said when he caught up with you, like he had won a prize. He pulled you into a quick hug and you didn’t know what to do with your hands until he let you go. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

You wiped invisible dust from your trousers. ��Yeah, I’ve been very busy.”

“You were never one for rest, right? The woman always running, always working, never has time for anything else,” he joked and it shouldn’t bother you the way it did. He gestured to Yoongi and Namjoon, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Namjoon looked politely curious and Yoongi downright uninterested.

“Right,” you said. “This is Yoongi and Namjoon. And this is Jacob.”

Their eyes sharpened the moment you uttered the name.

“I’m just Jacob now?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “After three years? Not even a friend?”

“I don’t know. It isn’t like we’ve spoken since last year.”

Initially after your breakup, you used to imagine how your next meeting would go and how the two of you would act around each other. Three years was a long time to share your life with someone to then go back to being strangers. You hadn’t entertained the idea much since then, you had found yourself thinking about him less and less. Still, whenever you thought about meeting him, you hadn’t anticipated the bitterness that grazed your insides.

Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “Well, you said you were busy. I have been busy as well, I’m working with a few very big names, you know. I got my hands on some of the best songs of the year.”

“I’m sure they’re great.”

“Haven’t you listened to any of them? You must have heard a few of them. They were everywhere.” Jacob was talented enough and well-connected and he sure liked to brag about it. “I asked Zayn and he said you were doing well, working of course. And you got yourself some company too.”

You clenched your jaw to bite back the harshness burning on the tip of your tongue. You hated the way he said it and the way it reminded you of your mother.

“It was a bit of a surprise, I’ll admit. I don’t remember you ever talking about adopting, you didn’t seem a big fan of the idea. No offense of course,” he directed the last part to Namjoon and Yoongi.

“Things change,” you said dismissively. “We have to go. There are people waiting for us.”

Jacob’s smile didn’t falter but his eyes narrowed a fraction for only a second. He may only be part of your past but you could still read him well. Was it the same for him? Had he ever been able to read you in the first place?

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sure.”

You turned around and started walking, Namjoon and Yoongi following you. Last year you loved him enough to move in with him and this year you couldn’t stand to be in his presence. You thought you would feel nothing when you’d see him again but the truth was that everything about him irritated you. His poised smile, his bragging, his nonchalance.

Why was he able to get under your skin like this? You were over him, you didn’t want anything to do with him. But you were supposed to be civil, uninterested like the heroines who didn’t raise more than an eyebrow in the direction of their exes. It irked you and the way he looked at Namjoon and Yoongi irked you more. You had defended him to everyone, he wasn’t a bad guy, he didn’t treat you badly but as time passed you were starting to realize some things you couldn’t see clearly before.

Yoongi was the first one to speak up when you had almost reached the coffee shop, “What an asshole.”

“He isn’t–” You stopped yourself and laughed. “You know what? He is, a little bit.”

“A little bit?” he repeated, doubtfully.

“I don’t want to judge but…” The way Namjoon paused told you everything you needed to know. “I had to try very hard to stop myself from growling at him.”

Yoongi smirked. “Down, wolf.” Namjoon ignored him.

“Thank you for not doing that, that wouldn’t have ended well. Please, don’t growl at people.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that.”

Well, you couldn’t say that you minded that much. You could admit to yourself that Namjoon growling was kind of hot. And if the situation called for it…

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you,” Namjoon said. “It was weird. There was something about it that was wrong, almost demeaning.”

“He can be like that sometimes. Like he is above almost everyone else, like some things are beneath him. He would make those stupid comments and I would always try to ignore them,” He was always supportive of your career and proud of your success but he had never shown interest in any of your other hobbies and likes. Reading was boring, paintings were overrated and overpriced, drinking tea was pretentious. “I never thought I would be one of those shit-talking their exes unless they did something really bad.”

“I support this shit-talking,” Namjoon said.

“I do too,” Yoongi agreed.

It made a strangely pleasant feeling run up your spine. “We’re here,” you said, instead of continuing the conversation. According to Google Maps, you had arrived at the coffee shop.

As you walked inside, you might have heard Yoongi saying lowly to Namjoon, “I kind of wanted to punch him.”

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You were sitting on the chair in front of your vanity, braiding your hair and stuck thinking of the same scene. Before going to his room for the night, Taehyung had approached you and thanked you for taking him to the exhibition. His expression was sincere and you finally felt like you were moving in the right direction.

When there was a knock at your door, you already knew who it was before you called for them to come in.

“Can we sleep here tonight?” Jimin asked, Jungkook draped over his back.

“When have I ever told you no?” you asked, finishing your braid and securing it in place with a silky scrunchy. “Go on.”

They both hopped on the bed, bouncing a little and sharing delightful smiles. You watched them through the mirror as they rolled around, holding each other.

Jimin looked up from where he was tangled with Jungkook, holding your gaze through his reflection. “Are you coming?”

“I am, I am,” you said, putting your brush back in the drawer.

You joined them on the bed, their hands quickly reaching for you and situating you between them like the last time. Jimin purred in contentment, rubbing his face in your collarbones. Jungkook held onto your arm and you could feel his breath caressing your neck with how close he was lying.

An unwanted echo of what Jacob had said entered your mind. Always working, never having time for anything else or anyone else, even the ones most important to you. You were gone most of the days and it made sense that they wanted to be close to you at least at night.

“Did you have fun today?” you asked them to distract yourself.

“I loved it! Eliana was so nice and her paintings were incredible,” Jimin said. “I took so many photos, my phone must be full of them.”

Jungkook nuzzled up closer to you. “I took many photos too. Can we print the one we took of us all together? I want to put it in our room.”

“Yes, please,” Jimin added cutely.

“Of course. You should print a couple more too, if you want, and choose some pretty frames for them. There is a lot of free space in your room.”

They cheered a little. You lied there in comfortable silence but you could detect a nervous energy in the air. It was in the way Jimin was fidgeting with the hem of your silk night shirt and how tightly Jungkook was gripping your arm. You waited until they were ready.

“We actually… we have something to tell you,” Jimin said.

“Anything you want, kitten,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. You could see how the use of the nickname affected him, squirming a little as his smile grew sweeter. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I just–” He looked at Jungkook, who gave him an encouraging nod. “I kissed him, we kissed. And… it makes me very happy.”

Jungkook caught Jimin’s hand that was pulling at your shirt and intertwined their fingers, laying their joint hands on your stomach. “He makes me very happy too,” he said in a small voice.

The new knowledge was like a puzzle piece sliding into place. It felt natural to you that their relationship would progress like that. The way they looked at each other, the way they touched each other, was evidence of a deeply intimate connection. If the image your mind conjured of them kissing lit a spark in your chest, you hid it even from yourself.

“Thank you for telling me. If it makes you happy, then I am happy too. All I want for you is to be happy and know how loved you are. Come here.” You pulled them closer and placed lingering kisses on their foreheads. “I will always support you. Always.” You took a decision then. You couldn’t put it off any longer. “I have something to tell you too. Jimin already knows but Jungkook, I would like for you to know too. I don’t know how to say this exactly and I’m sorry we’ve kept this from you but I, Namjoon and Jin have been romantically involved. All of us. We have been kissing too.”

“Oh.” Jungkook paused. “That makes sense.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, Jimin joining you. “I mean you’re very close and it just makes sense. We’re pack and I think that most packs are a little in love with each other, in one way or another,” he said. His cheeks felt hot against your shoulder.

In one way or another. He was right, it was such a special bond and you could imagine that for hybrids who felt the sense of pack deeper, the lines were easily blurred. A door opened in your mind but you closed it again forcefully.

Jimin fit his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you. I love you so much, all of you. Our pack. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you. I don’t know if I deserve this.” His voice was wet.

“You do,” you stated. “You deserve everything and more. And we love you so much. So much.”

Jungkook squeezed his hand. “We love you, Jiminie. Our pack wouldn’t be complete without you. We need you to be whole. We need everyone.”

Their hands remained linked over your abdomen as you fell asleep.

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#bts #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #taehyung x reader #bts angst #poly!bts x reader #bts poly #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts hurt/comfort #fluff

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anki-of-beleriand · 4 months

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Bad Liar ch. 13

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers

Warnings: Slow burn - slightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - idiots in love - homophobia - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: Reader and Wanda had started building up a life together, Billy and Tommy are getting to terms with the relationshp, and darkness lurks around them without noticing.

Guys I hope you have an amazing Happy New Year! That all your wishes, needs, and dreams become a reality on this 2024.

As always, English is no my mother tongue, so please forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 13

Building up a family

There was not a single sound inside the room.

At some point during the night, Wanda had turned around nuzzling her face on the crook of your neck relaxing into your scent and the warmth your body provided her. The morning had progressed slowly right outside the window, with a heavy snowstorm lashing against the house while the twins slept peacefully on their bed, with you still being out cold to the world.

The young woman mapped out your jawline, down to your ears and your nose, her lips breaking into a soft smile when you crunched up your nose letting out a snore. She chuckled letting her fingertips travelled down your arm to your hips, closing her eyes while enjoying the memory of the night before.

She couldn’t quite shake the taste of your lips, or the softness behind your caresses, or how perfect she fit in your arms. Wanda was not used to the level of attention, or to the loving care in which she was being treated the night before; romance was something she had stopped believing in, never thinking that she deserved to be happy or to be treated with such tenderness. Last night, her soul trembled under your attention, and she wished this would never end.

“Too early to think so much,” you didn't open your eyes, your voice drowsy dragging the words while your hand sneaked inside her tee caressing the skin of her back.

“I can't help it.” Wanda sighed leaning into you, she was about to kiss you when she put a hand on her mouth, her eyes going wide before she jerked around almost leaving the bed.

After such a sudden movement, it was almost impossible for you to be sleepy. You too sat down with your eyes wide open and your heart rate increasing looking around trying to identify the source of such a sudden scared. Wanda put a hand on her mouth, her cheeks completely red while she looked everywhere but at you.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You knitted your brows together, concern flashing in your eyes.

“Yes, I just thought, we woke up and my breath…” as she said this out loud, Wanda winced with her hand firmly in place right in front of her mouth.

You gaped at her, your eyes going from her hand to her eyes then back to her hand before you dropped back in the bed laughing. Wanda huffed never losing her blush while you put a hand on your stomach laughing as if she just said the most amusing joke ever.

“Are you joking?” It was a rhetoric question, by the way she had reacted you knew she had taken this as a serious business. Your eyes twinkle resting on your right side your wandering hand placed on her knee.

“You mean to tell me, after we spent the night together you're not going to greet me with a kiss until you brush your teeth?”

Wanda stiffened her eyes lowering to your hand, she bit her lower lip while dropping the hand on her mouth.

“No?” She could see her resolution crumbling under your intense stare.

You raised an eyebrow lifting your weight on one arm before grabbing her by the pj's short and pulling her to you. Without meaning to, Wanda let out a whimper her hands soon falling on your shoulders which made you lose your equilibrium falling back on the bed with Wanda on top of you. You smirked kissing her back pressing her body to yours, the bad breath totally forgotten and Wanda completely enchanted by the kiss.

Everything was perfect, her lips against yours and the trembling of her hands exploring your arms and the sides of your body. Her weight on yours accommodating to this new position. Wanda cupped your face deepening the kiss, your tongue brushing against hers teasingly…

“Mommy?”

The knock on the door accompanied by the soft voice of a boy stopped the kiss. Wanda was completely flustered with a hint of disbelief in her eyes and her hands still on your face. You and her were breathing hard, unable to look away from one another; there was a hint of regret in Wanda's eyes when another knock on her door shook her away from you. You merely smiled sitting up while pecking her in the lips.

“Mom?”

The door opened revealing Tommy right in front of his mother's room, he was holding a blue blanket with sleep still visible on his eyes and a big yawn a sign that he had just woken up. His eyes took into his mother's form and then went to the figure behind her, his head tilting with curiosity just as a tiny smile show on his lips.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hey, Tommy, are you okay?” You stepped past Wanda kneeling down in front of Tommy, the boy nodded still trying to process your precense in his mother's room.

“I'm hungry.”

“You and me, pal.” You picked him up in your arms turning to Wanda who was still flustered thinking about the kiss.

You glanced into those green eyes, your features softening as they glance reassuringly to the other woman.

“What do you say if we make pancakes, eggs, toasts and orange juice while mommy goes to see how Billy is doing?”

“Okay.” Tommy agreed brightly leaning forward until his head was resting in your shoulder.

“Thank you, I will be down as soon as I can to help…” Wanda trailed off almost stepping back when you close the distance between the both of you, she lifted her face parting her lips ready for another kiss but you brushed your lips on her forehead.

“Take your time, Wands, Tommy and I have breakfast covered and Billy needs your attention.” You then winked at her, your hand sliding slowly down her arm, grabbing her hand while squeezing tenderly. “You can even wash your mouth… You know? For the bad breath you were so worried about a moment ago.”

“You're impossible.” Wanda replied covering her face to hide the blush forming there.

You chuckled turning around and leaving Wanda dumbstruck to the spot, Tommy frowned but soon his expression changed when you asked him Billy's favorite fruit for his pancakes. Wanda lift her hand to her lips, her fingers caressing the skin with a feather like touch, her eyes closing to make the memory more vivid in her mind. She had kissed you. She kissed a woman. She spent the night with a woman, and now that woman was making her weak on her knees with her heart almost leaving her chest. Wanda smiled wrapping her arms around herself before making her way to the twin's room.

She was finally feeling the happiness she always thought was not for her.

_______________

The house was silent.

Your keys fell on the bowl resting on the table beside the door. You could see America's keys there as well indicating your sister had already arrived with firm strides you made your way back to the kitchen only to find her sitting on the counter chairs eating ice cream while playing with her phone. She lifted her eyes as soon as you enter the kitchen, the smile on her face told you everything you needed to know about the night before. You sat beside her, your own lips curling into a content smile she only questioned by lifting her brow at you.

“Good night?” America followed you with her eyes, you could tell she was holding back her smirk and the obvious curiosity to know what you did.

You poured some water in a glass while grabbing the coffee maker to prepare a cup of coffee while still trying to hold onto the memories of the night before. You sat down remaining impassive for a moment, America snorted playing with the spoon full of ice cream.

“That good, eh?” America chuckled enjoying the flush on your cheeks, you leaned forward placing your arms on the table with your eyes wandering around.

“Nothing happened,” your fingers played with the mug, drawing circles around the edges before you turned the tables on your sister, “how about your night? Any good?”

America faltered briefly, shifting on the stool while shrugging nonchalantly. You chuckled taking a sip from your coffee.

“That good, eh?”

America offered a single smile but nothing else was said, silence soon filled your kitchen and it was a moment in which both of you found yourself thinking of the night before. You made your way to the coffee maker serving another cup of coffee while nodding towards America.

“Come on, kiddo, I think we need to talk.”

America sighed grabbing the bucket of ice cream and following you to the basement. The sound of the TV soon echoed through the room while the action sequence played in front of you, you sat down placing your phone on the table leaning against the chair while setting your eyes on America.

“You want me to start?” America huffed taking another spoon full of ice cream.

“Come on, you have been pinning after Kate far longer than me pinning over Wanda, so spill.”

America arranged her position on the chair and soon her mouth opened to start narrating the events of the night before. You could see the happiness radiating off of her, the softness in her voice when talking about Kate and how the night went on and on until she took Kate back home with the promise of a date the next day. America didn't stop on the kiss, but you could see how deeply affected she was by the kiss, she treasured every moment, and you couldn't help but smile at her happiness.

“We are going out today, you know? Nothing fancy, just a movie and ice cream,” America cocked her head biting her lower lip thoughtfully, “I think we are just going to take it slowly.”

“How mature.” You teased narrowing your eyes at the flush on your sister's cheeks, there was something else she was not saying and you waited for a moment before speaking.

“You're still afraid, aren't you?”

America winced, looking away, “she is my best friend, we know everything about each other, I'm just afraid we will get bored so fast that…what if it doesn't work?”

She hadn't said this to anyone, her friends were so invested in Team America/Kate that even though they had contemplated the possibility of the future, none of them understood the root of America's fear. She had been in love with Kate the best part of her childhood and teen years, but being in a relationship with someone was far more complicated than love. America lifted her eyes, finding yours easily, and then something inside your head clicked.

You and Shuri had been best friends, you had danced around one another until one day you just couldn't take any longer and kissed her. Your relationship with Shuri had been a rocky one, friendship and love mixed up and there were moments in which you didn't know if it was worth breaking up a friendship for having a romantic relationship with Shuri. But you risked it all,the good and the bad, the multiple breakups and the multiple reconciliations.

“You're not me, America, and Kate is not Shuri.” You stated firmly. “Your story is different from mine,and as such, you should live it. Take your time, get to know a part of Kate no one has met so far, one day at a time, kiddo and the answers will come on their own.”

America smiled hugging you tightly, she knew she could count on you and your words. It had been so long since they sat like this to discuss their lives, America really missed you in ways she never thought possible. America knew that changes were inevitable and the both of you were going through a moment in your lives that seemed to define the future you would share.

The sound of an explosion called your attention, the world crumbling on the TV. America turned to the TV as well, waiting for you to start talking.

“We kissed.”

It was a simple confession, you furrowed your brows thinking about the kisses you shared with Wanda, the warmth from her body, the sight of her smile. Your heart fluttered inside your heart,a glimpse of hope shining in your eyes, something that didn't go amiss from your sister.

“How was it?”

You chuckled, dropping your head before resting it on the back of the sofa.

“It was soft,” you chewed on your lower lip before turning to look at America grinning at you, “I mean, I'm used to the passion, you know? Like this wild meeting of lips and the need…but with her it was…soft.”

America lifted an eyebrow, she could see the kiss had shaken something inside you. You fixed your position on the sofa, sitting with your legs crossed as you continued.

“I am the first woman she is with, and we also are taking things slowly.”

“Slowly?” America furrowed her brows, a teasing tone leaving her words. “But you spent the night with her.”

“Well, yeah,but we just slept, nothing else.”

“You slept? Like falling asleep?”

You rolled your eyes, America snorted lifting her arms with a disbelief stare corssing her eyes.

“Just sleep.”

“Shut up.” You threw a pillow to her,America chuckled, grabbing the pillow and pressing it against her body. “We just slept, I made her breakfast, helpedwith the twins and then came here to get a shower and a change of clothes.”

“You really like her.” America declared with a sigh.

“I do.”

“Doesn't it scare you that she has children and we'll…”

“Yes, it scares the hell out of me. I know that in a way I'm playing with fire.” You dropped your eyes frowning. “I know that at some point she may said I am not what she wants or needs…god, she could even go back to her husband or find a man…”

“No, she won't.” It was the resolute tone America used what made you looked at her with a scowl.

America's lips draw in a thin line, her brown eyes gleaming dangerously while her fist clenched tightly.

“She won't go back to him, and she won't go back to anybody,Y/N.” America held your eyes for a while before shaking her head.

“What do you know?” You narrowed your eyes waiting for an explanation but America just shrugged.

“Just that you are the best thing that has happened to her and those kids, and that it may take some time but I know Professor Maximoff likes you more than she dares to admit.”

“So I take it, you approve of her?” it was supposed to be a teasing comment, but a part of you waited for the real answer.

America snorted but it was not necessary to say anything at all, it was quite obvious she approved of Wanda as much as you approved of Kate. Yet, there was a part inside America that feared for you, it was strange, but something had been bothering her for quite some time. She was afraid you would get hurt, that this newfound relationship didn't end up the way you wanted it to.

“What are you going to do today?” America could guess the answer, but she was curious either way.

You shrugged resting your head on the back of the sofa.

“Billy is still sick, so I think I will spend the afternoon with them.” You pointed to America then back at you. “but right now, I was hoping I could spend some time with you. What do you say if we take a bath and then cook something for lunch?”

“That sounds good, I'm dying to get your meat rolls and some smashed potatoes.”

You chuckled standing up, you wiggled your eyebrows grabbing your sister's hand in yours.

“Then, let's go, kiddo.”

___________

The room was comfortably warm, you had made the chocolate with marshmallows and Wanda had arranged the living room for her children to be comfortable enough for movie night.

The day had been strange, yet it was everything you and her were hoping for.

After spending most of the morning and midday with America you got to Wanda's place ready to help her out with the twins and spent a nice afternoon with her. The boys had been happy, with Billy feeling a little better and wanting to be completely healthy for Christmas.

With the Winter holidays ready to be enjoyed, Billy and Tommy were eagerly helping Wanda decorated their home while pouting for the lack of Christmas tree.

It was not something you gave much thought to, in all honestly Christmas was not a festivity that your family paid attention to. Of course, this was unthinkable in the Maximoff household, so Wanda and the twins decided to teach you about Christmas by selecting a couple of movies you were sure to enjoy.

“I can't believe you don't celebrate Christmas.” Wanda was fixing the mugs on a tray, selecting the smallest marshmallows.

You rolled your eyes smiling, “it was not a huge holiday for us, decorations and trees and everything else was not something we did.”

“Any reason at all?” Wanda asked curiously, you shrugged helping her out with the chocolate.

“Not really, my dad was not the religious kind, and while I always received gifts on Christmas Eve well…He and mom enjoyed taking us out to see the lights and decorations everywhere instead of staying home.” You tilted your head in contemplation, “you know? Sometimes we were not at home, so I guess they didn't thought it make sense to decorate if we were not going to be there to enjoy.”

Wanda placed her hands on the counter, her brows knitted together while she mused over your words. She could see the topic was not something you feel entirely comfortable with, but there was nothing but honesty behind your words. With a surge of courage running through her veins she made her way to you. You tilted your head placing your hands around her waist while she placed hers on the back of your neck pressing her body closer to yours.

“Well, we do like to celebrate Christmas here, so as long as you are…” here Wanda trailed off, her face completely red while her eyes locked warmly with yours, “as long as you are here, I will make sure you get the spirit of Christmas decorations.”

You chuckled closing the space between the both of you, you drank in the soft sigh leaving Wanda's lips while her fingers played with he baby hair at the nape of your neck.

“I think you are a little late for decorations, then.” You whispered against her lips. “Christmas is a week away.”

“Hence, movie night.” Wanda explained nuzzling her nose against yours, she closed her eyes softly with a tiny smile decorating her features. “We could always try it out next week, and invite Kate and America over.”

“Now, that would be fantastic.” You pulled Wanda towards you teasing her with a brush of your lips, your fingers tracing circles on her skin, your hands finding a spot under her sweater.

“I can't…”

“Mom!”

Wanda jumped out of your arms so fast she crashed against the closest wall hitting her head. You hit your back against the counter while Tommy and Billy stood innocently at the entrance of the kitchen, both boys frowned confusedly while Wanda massaged the back of her head and you stood frozen on the spot.

“Tommy!” Wanda rushed to them trying to hide her blush and the guiltiness shinning in her eyes.

“Mom, can we have the chocolate now?” Tommy asked glancing at the mugs.

“I want to see the movie,” Billy pouted narrowing his eyes at you before turning to Wanda, “you're too slow.”

You chuckled behind Wanda hearing the sputtering and the stutter of an explanation before you clapped your hands. Wanda closed her eyes mortified when she felt your hand on her lower back her body reacting to your touch by leaning in.

“We're sorry, guys. Mommy,” you started leaning closer to Wanda who shiver under your voice, “was explaining to me how you guys used to decorate and we were talking about getting some decorations for Christmas next week.”

Billy and Tommy lit up at this, they turned to you the to Wanda. The excitement was quite evident, and you could tell for the kids this time of the year was really important.

“Really, mom? Can we make the tree and… And the socks?” Billy asked smiling.

“Yes, of course, baby.” Wanda softened hearing the excited chatter of her boys as they went back to their spots on the living room.

A shadow of the past crossed Wanda's face for a moment, you approached her placing two fingers under her chin tenderly.

“Hey, are you okay?”

She nodded though her face never changed, and the shadows turned into a souless stare. You cupped her cheek leaning over while placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Christmas was a time of joy, and gifts for them.” Wanda mumbled shivering under the weight of her memories.

“Was it?” You asked, and Wanda let out a bitter smile.

“It was the only time he was nice with them.”

You didn't need to ask who she was referring to, your face hardened and Wanda could see the subtly change in you stance. She leaned in placing a kiss on your lips.

“It's just a bad memory.” She whispered trying to shake away those thoughts, you stopped her putting her closer to you.

“Was he…” the question was at the tip of your tongue, Wanda looked away.

“I'm divorcing him, Y/N, he is no longer part mine or my children's life.”

Wanda said this with a conviction that surprised you, the young woman was looking g resolute and she was easing out your worries as much as she was comforting herself with the reality she was living at the moment. You were curious about the whole business, but seeing how Wanda was shaken out by the conversation you decided there would be time for that conversation at another time.

“Then let's make you and the twins happy, shall we?”

Wanda broke into an easy smile, nodding while you went for the tray and got the chocolate mugs in there. Soon the four of you were sitting on the sofa and the chairs watching one of the Christmas movies selected by the twins.

You heard the excited chatter coming from Billy and Tommy that decided to explain the movie to you while laughing. At some point during the afternoon, Wanda found a spot between your legs resting her back against your chesther head falling comfortably on your shoulder snuggling closer into your embrace while answering her children's questions. You nuzzled her hair and face, your eyes falling from time to time on the little forms of the twins that took this sudden changed as something familiar. Only Billy would gave you a light glare from time to time, only to be eased out by his brother and his mom.

Wanda fluttered her eyes open, the screen was showing the options for the movie you just watched. The room was silent, with Billy and Tommy snuggled up on the sofa fast asleep. The young woman stirred letting out a sight when she felt your hands wrapping protectively around her mid section.

When Wanda tilted her head up she could see you were asleep. Your mouth slightly open in a position that would certainly give you beckpain at some point.

“Hey, love,” Wanda caressed your face trying to wake you up, the loving term leaving her lips without her notice, “love, time to wake up, you're going to hurt your neck.”

You groaned wrapping your arms around her, she yelped falling right on top of you while you grunted opening your eyes to see Wanda completely red in the face with her body pressed against yours.

“What time is it?”

“Time to wake up and let me up?” Wanda struggled pressing her hands on your shoulders ready to stand up, you chuckled helping her up while following soon after.

“God, my neck.”

Wanda chucked, turning off the TV, she hesitated before standing behind you and allowing sweet messages on your shoulders up to your neck.

“You fell asleep in a very uncomfortable position,” Wanda leaned to the side, her eyes drifting from you back to the twins.

“But it was worth it if I got a chance to sleep with you.” You turned all of a sudden letting your arms sneak around the woman's midsection bringing your lips to hers.

Wanda gasped giving into the kiss until she remembered her sons sleeping so close by. She was still trembling, gaze glazed over while her lips couldn't stop the smile from decorating her features. You returned the gesture, but understanding her hesitation you stepped back.

“I'm sorry, they…”

You nodded, “I know, and I understand. Let me help you put them to bed and I'll be out.”

You turned around surprised at the fingertips caressing the back of your hand. Wanda stood there, biting her lower lip with her brows knitted together.

“Are you leaving so soon? I'm still trying to figure out some things, Billy and Tommy…”

Her words surprised you even more, you tilted your head turning to face Wanda hearing her explanations, the nervous tapping of her fingers while the doubt filling up her eyes. You knew even though the boys had seen you that morning in Wanda's bedroom, and they had known something was up, they were still in the dark about their mother entering a new relationship, trying to navigate strange waters. And Wanda found herself torn in pieces because of this, because of her need to want to be with you, or the fluttering of her heart when she kissed you. She was just trying to live the day by day while also holding onto you, and it was scary and messy.

You let your body relax, your lips breaking into a half smile.

“Wands, if you want, I can stay,” you kept your distance but never let go of her hand, “I know you need to talk to them, and that for now it would be better if they don't catch us, and I can wait.”

“Why?” The question left Wanda before she could stop it, you sighed snorting while shrugging your shoulders.

“I just think you are worth the wait, and wouldn't it be amazing to discover how amazing we could be together? As a family?”

Wanda didn't have any words after such a declaration, but you stopped whatever she could say was stopped by you leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“You, Billy, Tommy America and I…I just think, how crazy would it be if everything fits in the end?” You leaned back winking at Wanda. “So, I'm willing to wait and to try.”

Wanda pressed her lips together, her heart fluttering in her chest while her soul melted under your words. Wanda was certain that never before had she experienced the overwhelming emotions you woke in her. For the very first time she felt safe, and she even dared to say loved: and this new experience scared her, but excited her all the same. Whatever happened, Wanda Maximoff knew that you were already taking a special spot in her heart, and it would be a matter of time for Wanda to give in and fall in love with you.

“You can help me with Tommy and I take care of Billy.” Wanda said as an answer to your words, you nodded happily leading the way to where the twins were fast asleep.

In the end, both of you decided that the best option was for you to go back home. America was waiting for you, and you had spent so much time out that you had missed the time alone with your sister a of late. Wanda for her part was also exited about the random invitation she had received from Natasha and Maria to spend Sunday with them; the new friendships she had started building were something Wanda was dying to cultivate and thus, the decision was easy just like that.

The goodbye came along with a kiss, and Wanda linger in your embrace long enough to offer you the sweetest of smiles that you treasured that night just before going to sleep.

The future look brighter, and the new year approaching offered just the best of possibilities to you and her. What could possibly go wrong?

_________________________

He remembered the first time his eyes fell upon Wanda Maximoff.

She was standing in the shadows during one of the meetings his father held at home to gather some business partners. Jarvis had always been taught the right ways to make business, and his father had set his eyes on a recently arrived man from Sokovia that brough great money and new opportunities to get connections.

She was shy, quiet, and almost invisible standing behind her mother while letting her green eyes wandered around the room. Jarvis felt attracted to her, and the moment he started speaking to her he found himself drawn to the girl.

It was easy to path the way to her and actually get what he wanted.

His father was happy to make the deal, and her father was happier knowing he not only got himself a pretty sweet deal but someone to take his daughter off of his hands. His attention to the oldest sibling, Pietro, who had a brilliant future as a sports prodigy.

As time passed by, Jarvis knew he had a long road ahead of himself, trying to shake off the idea of studying and having a job inside Wanda’s mind was not easier, more so if her mother encouraged her to be one of those filthy harlots that thought themselves above men. But Jarvis had been taught patience, and he waited while working on Wanda getting her away from her mother first, then her brother…

And then, something magical, something amazing and beautiful happened.

Pietro and his mother died.

An unfortunate accident, but enough to finally get Wanda under his full control.

Jarvis tried to really get Wanda into the right path, to be the loving and just husband she didn’t deserved, but the young woman had always been stubborn and quite impossible. He had taught her the hard way, the soft way, how she should behave and while it did work for a while, well…Jarvis thought having brats would make it easier but if anything, it made her impossible to deal with.

Even in sex, Wanda was not even good at, and having to go with someone that struggled far too much lost its charm after a while.

Still, Wanda was his.

He had the paperwork that placed her under his property, under his name, and thus the woman and those children were his.

The beep coming from the computer broke his concentration, Jarvis lifted his eyes to see the files had finally been transfer to the USB he brought with him. He smirked. This company had enough material that he could sell in the black market, but he already had a couple of buyers that were trying to get their hands on nanotechnology and biotechnology for military applications.

Jarvis would be more than happy to have the change to destroy Y/N Y/L/N.

The memory of your filthy hands on Wanda, of her behaving like a slut clinging to you while kissing you. Jarvis clenched his fists closed; he knew Wanda was broken. H thought he had forced that sin out of her after so many nights together, after breeding her…but of course, once rotten…

Jarvis took a deep breath.

He had everything planned out already, it was a matter of time.

One more week, and he would be able to not only destroy you and your company, but also get what was his under his control once more.

He smirked, the bluish light coming from the computer reflecting on his face; one more week, and he would have his family with him once more, and then everything would be over.

The light disappeared leaving the room in complete darkness, Jarvis stood up and left the office humming to himself a familiar song while his fingertips tapped fast on the screen of his phone.

I have the files, there is only one more set of blueprints and this will be over. Do you have something for me?

They’re visiting Santa at the mall. She is not alone, of course, it seems her lover is everything you are not.

Jarvis narrowed his eyes, almost broking the phone and losing his footing when Agatha sent over a picture of Wanda and the twins, right beside her smiling face was Y/N standing contently with her hands on her waist. Jarvis scowled shaking his head while returning to the keypad.

Find out when would be the best time for me to pay them a visit, Agatha. I would like nothing more than to give my wife and my children a visit they won’t forget.

I will, don’t worry. But I expect my reward once I’m home…I can barely wait to have you inside me…

Jarvis chuckled darkly closing the phone and entering the lift.

He smirked once more, though his face was a mask of pure rage.

Soon.

____________________

Christmas Eve was just three days away.

Wanda and Kate had made it their task to bring over the joy of the season by taking you and America down to the mall to get some decorations while also picking up a tree. The last week had been strange to say the least; you and Wanda started getting closer while also spending time with your family and friends. It was strange, at first.

You longed to be beside Wanda, to perhaps grab her hand in yours and take her on dates and spend the nights with her. You yearned for Wanda, and whenever you two were alone you could tell the other woman felt the same. But there was something stopping you and her.

It was not that difficult to discover what it was, Wanda was not only afraid of the relationship but also about her children’s reaction and you being a woman. For her it was quite evident everything was new, and while sometimes you wished it was easier, you were quite ready to wait for her.

So, for the best part of the week you two had spent some quality time with friends and family, and just give one another a couple of minutes or hours at night to just talk and continue with the routine you had stablished before Winter break.

“I think we can get the tree from the emporium right around the corner from Olympia.” Kate put a hand on her chin, her eyes narrowed while she counted her options out loud.

Wanda grabbed some lights nodding in agreement, her brows knitting together while facing Kate.

“I didn’t know there was one nearby.”

“Oh, you know? It’s only for the season, usually they have a parking lot there.” Kate grinned when her eyes caught sight of America, Billy, Tommy and Y/N walking towards them.

“So, Professor…”

“Wanda, please, we’re not in school at the moment, Kate.” Wanda offered a half smile to the young woman who smiled pleased.

“Well, Wanda, you and Y/N,” Wanda tensed lightly her smile dropping into a nervous grimace, “are you guys dating or something?”

Wanda grabbed a couple of lights, turning to the group before facing Kate.

“I think we are trying yes, are you dating America?”

“Finally! God, those two are almost impossible to get, but once you do, they can be the best thing that had happened to you.” Kate then stepped forward leaving a thoughtful Wanda behind.

America lifted her hands, both of them carrying two ice cream cones.

“I think I got the right flavour, but if I did not you can have mine.” America blushed hard when Kate came over to kiss her hard on the lips before taking one of the cones.

“Don’t worry, baby, whatever you choose I bet I would love it.”

Billy and Tommy made faces, putting their hands on their mouths to cover the giggles. Kate smirked satisfied at leaving her girlfriend dumbstruck, you rolled your eyes extending the cup to Wanda.

“I got you Jazmin tea, honey, no milk, right?” You offered the other woman a teasing smile, Wanda grabbed the cup letting her fingertips brushed against yours.

“Thank you, that’s perfect.”

America and Kate watched the interaction a little confused, though Tommy and Billy had also paid close attention to what was happening. Billy frowned crossing his arms while never taking his eyes off of you. Wanda bit her lower lip and then, all of a sudden, leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“Thank you.” She repeated, you grinned at her winking the moment however was broken by Billy who decided to get in the way pushing you away while standing in front of his mom.

“Mom! I wanna go home!” Billy stomped his foot down glaring at Wanda then at you crossing his arms while pouting.

You could tell Wanda was really shocked by this reaction, but in all fairness, you had guessed this would happen sooner or later. It had been not a secret for the best part of the week, that Billy Maximoff did not seem overly found of the closeness you shared with his mom. You had decided to not get in the way on how Wanda talked to her children, and you knew this conversation was something they should deal with but you couldn’t help it when you saw the hurt crossed Wanda’s eyes at the outburst and the glare Billy was sending her way.

“Hey, Billy, what do you say if we go see Santa and…”

“SANTA DOESN’T EXIT! YOU…YOU DOOFUS!”

“Billy!”

Billy opened his eyes wide shocked at his scream, Tommy stepped back hiding himself behind America and Wanda just stood there frozen. Billy’s lower lip quivered and he just took off down the hall towards the exit of the shop.

Wanda lifted her eyes at you, and you nodded to her.

“Go, I’ll stay with Tommy.”

Wanda went after her son without looking back, her heart hammering against her chest at the sudden flashback she got from those times Vision would scream at her and the twins. Tommy shifted glancing back at his mom, before going to you and hugging you tightly.

“You’re not a doofus, Y/N.” You knelt ruffling Tommy’s hair.

“I know, Tommy, don’t’ worry.” You softened lightly when you realized this outburst had affected greatly the other boy.

“Santa is not real, but that’s okay…” Tommy shrugged hugging you tightly. “You’re the best gift mommy could have.”

You frowned though you returned the hug, America and Kate glanced at one another wincing when you sent an inquisitive stare their way.

“Thank you, Tommy.” You leaned back tilting your head, “what do you say if we go to Santa either way? I’m pretty sure that out there, somewhere, the real Santa can hear you out and perhaps we can ask for a nice gift for Christmas.”

Tommy crunched up his nose, his eyes narrowed before he shrugged nodding.

“Okay.”

You chuckled grabbing his hand in yours, “then, Kate, America lead the way, we’re going to see Santa!”

*****

Wanda caught up with Billy just right around the corner leading to the bathroom.

Billy was sobbing pressing his arm on his face, the tears rolling down his cheeks hiccupping. Wanda dropped to her knees, her own tears glistening in her eyes. She didn’t know what the scene was about, but she knew there was something bothering Billy greatly, and his reaction had scared him as much as it had scared Wanda.

“Billy?” She asked tentatively, a hand placing itself on his shoulder.

Wanda gasped almost falling over when Billy wrapped his arms around her crying against her shoulder. It broke her heart to see just how hurt he was, how much he was feeling at the moment without being completely sure as to why he was experimenting those emotions. The young woman picked him up in her arms and took him inside the hall leading to the restrooms, never stopping the waved of comforting words from leaving her lips.

The bathroom was empty, Wanda took Billy to the counter sitting him down while going over for some paper towels to clean him up.

The boy was sulking, his arms crossed while the tears rolled down his cheeks, some snot coming out that he kept sniffling. Wanda couldn't keep the frown off her face, she was still wondering what had actually happened to make her son react in such a way. Wanda hated how alike Vision he had been at that moment, and watching him right now only made Wanda think that she wasn't the only one in need of therapy.

“Let me clean this up,” she smiled, drying the tears tenderly, her own eyes gleaming with unshed tears, “and here, you can blow your nose.”

Billy winced, dropping his stare when Wanda poked his nose. The young woman sighed, she opened the tap washing her hands while taking a couple of paper towels to the water. She lifted Billy's face, never missing the chance to smile reassuringly to her son.

“Now, you want to tell me what happened?”

Her words were soothing, more like a concern inquiry than a reproach. Billy winced, his lips quivering just as he tightened the hold of his arms around himself. Wanda didn't press the matter, making sure to freshen up Billy's face while cleaning him softly.

“Is it me? Perhaps, Tommy?” Wanda kept her questions casual, as if she was just naming people as they came in her mind. “America? Or, Y/N?”

The boy tensed, lifting his face to glance at Wanda in the eye. Wanda could feel her heart shattering, a revolting emotion twisting her stomach as her son looked away pouting.

“You don't… You don't like her?”

She held her breath waiting for an answer. Her heart fluttered with Hope to get a negative answer from her son; when she left Vision she promised herself to put her children first and her own needs, fears and wants, on the background. She would never submit her children to an abusive relationship, or to someone that might hurt them or might make them feel uncomfortable. That was the reason she had held back with you, she knew what she was feeling with you was something she had yearn but her children came first. And she loved you even more for understanding.

“I don't want mommy and Tommy hurt.” Billy whispered, dropping his arms down, he lowered his face sniffling some more.

“Oh, baby,” Wanda hugged him tightly, and after a moment of hesitation Billy hugged her back, “I would never let anyone hurt me or you or Tommy ever again.”

She leaned back offering a soft smile, her eyes seeking out those of Billy.

“You and Tommy are my main concern, if you think Y/N is hurting me…”

Billy shook his head frowning, he opened his mouth before closing it again. Wanda waited until the young boy spoke.

“You were happy with daddy.” He mumbled, Wanda's blood ran cold and she tried to hold back her expressions thinking how to continue with the conversation.

“Do you miss daddy?” Wanda winced at the last word, Billy scrunched up his nose shaking his head.

“No! Daddy hurt you and Tommy and me! But he made you happy and then…”

Wanda knew right there and then that her children had seen enough to take upon their shoulders a responsibility that was not theirs. She knew they had heard them, she knew at some point they had seen Vision hurting her as much as they had heard the words and insults he screamed at her; but Wanda thought, quite naively, that her children had not been completely aware of this.

Now that she was at the gates of a new relationship, of finding someone nice and loving and someone she was dying to give a chance to, their fears of history repeating itself came into play.

“Do you think Y/N is capable of hurting me or you or your brother?”

Billy opened his eyes at such a question, and his first instinct was to shake his head until he just stopped and shrugged. If he were to contemplate the last couple of days and weeks, he would have to say no. She had taken care of Tommy when he was sick, and she made Wanda smile, she made Wanda laugh and relax and be so happy that Billy had been bothered about it at some point. He had been waiting for the screams, and the punches, and the tears…but they never came, and then…today, mommy had kissed Y/N and Billy had been afraid. What if they kiss and then everything changes? Billy had seen how daddy kissed mommy and then he would start teaching her a lesson; how they had been a happy family only to go back home and be afraid all over again.

But you…

“No.” Billy answered softly, then he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, Billy, I know that we have had a rough experience before,” Wanda reasoned, cupping her child’s face in her hands, “that won’t happen ever again, I promise.”

Billy nodded believing her words, he chewed on his lip before asking in the same soft voice.

“Do you like Y/N?” Billy gauged his mother’s expression, his words piling up in his mouth, “Balder said you like her and that soon you will kiss like Kate and America, and that will be so gross, but it’s what mommys and daddys do when they love each other but you will be a mommy and Y/N would be a step-mother, and we have to make sure she is not like Cinderella or Snow White’s step-mother…”

Wanda stood there gaping at her son, her cheeks tingling with the blush forming around her face while her heart skipped several beats at such detailed explanation. She certainly needed to have a serious conversation with Loki and Balder’s education. Billy sat there narrowing his eyes at his mom waiting for an answer that Wanda was trying to organise internally.

“Okay, I…I like her, Billy, and I like her a lot.” Wanda started measuring her words to make sure Billy understood, the boy tilted his head with his eyes gleaming strangely at her, “she makes me happy, and we decide to just see what happens, but for now she is just…”

Wanda trailed off not knowing how to put into words what she wanted to convey, Billy furrowed his brows helping his mother who was having some difficulty in talking.

“Girlfriend? Like Kate and America?” Wanda closed her eyes, mortified, before nodding.

“Yes, she is not…I mean, stepmother is such a strong word, right now I just…” Wanda let out a heavy sigh placing her hand on top of Billy’s head. “Do you like her?”

Billy pressed his lips together; it took him a minute to answer but when he did a weight lifted from Wanda’s shoulders.

“I do. She makes you so happy.” Billy then threw himself into Wanda’s arms, “I love you, mommy, I’m sorry I screamed at you.”

“It’s okay, baby, everything is going to be fine.”

___________

The line to meet with Santa was a long one.

You lifted your face to see Wanda coming closer, Billy holding her hand tightly while smiling at her. Wanda sensed your eyes on her, she lifted her face and soon found the comfort of your stare on her; you raised a brow in a silent question the other woman understood perfectly, she nodded and Billy furrowing his brows followed the line of vision of his mom to you. He hesitated but soon went to Tommy hugging him tightly.

“Are you alright?” You kept your distance, though your tone of voice dripped with concern that Wanda found endearing.

“I am.” She then stepped closer wrapping her arms around you, her body relaxed when you returned the hug though you couldn’t keep away the confusion of this sudden reaction.

America centred her attention on the twins, Billy was still serious but Tommy was smiling happily while dragging his brother away with the stories he just heard from you about Santa and his secret allies that helped him make wishes come true.

“It seems everything is alright now.” Kate whispered, America shrugged turning to where you and Wanda were still pretty closed.

“Seems that way.” Kate pecked her on the nose winking at her.

“Come, I think they need an alone time and we can watch over the twins.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, the weight of Wanda in your arms soothing whatever worries you had sewn the moment she went after Billy. It was a moment of only the both of you, with the laughter and conversation of people happening around, she leaned back offering you the most beautiful smile she could put on at the moment.

“Everything alright?” You asked brushing her hair out of her face, she nodded leaning in to place a peck on your lips.

This made you opened your eyes, you glanced at the twins then back at her, but Wanda didn’t move an inch away from you nor did she shy away from the kiss.

“Everything alright.” Wanda offered you a pearly smile, her eyes dropping to your lips then back to your eyes. “What do you say if we go get that tree and, if you’re not averse to the idea, we can decorate your home? I mean, I don’t want to pretend…”

“I would love to spend Christmas with you, and the twins.” You returned the smile, tilting your head you could see everyone discussing right at the end of the line. “So, they really don’t’ believe in Santa?”

Wanda winced shrugging, “their father…he beat it out of them.”

She was afraid of looking into your face, and when she did she could see the silent anger going through your expression. The change in your eyes, and the tension building up in your muscles your jawline clenched tightly and your hold on her tightened into a protective stance.

“He…He beat it out?” Your voice was cold, and it sent a shiver of fear down Wanda’s back.

She stepped back not liking the sensation, she merely nodded and you took a deep breath to tried and keep under control your emotions. You stepped closer to her, tilting your head to capture her eyes in yours.

“Did he do something else?”

Wanda offered a bitter smile, her arms around herself and you knew your reaction was not the best to reassure her about your feelings for her or the information she shared with you. You let out a heavy sigh, putting a hand on your head before relaxing your expression.

“A lot of things but, it’s not important now,” Wanda hoped this could at least give you some light of what she had lived before, on why her children had been so introvert at the beginning and why Billy was so overprotective of her and Tommy.

You opened your mouth but didn’t know what to say, the words did not come as easily as you expect them to. Wanda waited for a reaction, for you to say that you couldn’t continue with the relationship, or that you really didn’t want to get into something so mess up. What was worse, she was waiting for you to ask for details, to feed on the stories of a past she wanted to forget.

She closed her eyes melting under the kiss you pressed on her forehead.

“Whenever you are ready,” your lips lingered for just a couple of minutes more, “I know it may not be a lot but, I won’t let anything bad happen to you, to Billy and Tommy.”

“I know.” Wanda whispered back grabbing your hand and squeezing comfortingly, “now, about that tree and that Christmas decorations…”

You chuckled winking at her, “okay then, let’s go!”

____________________

The last couple of days had been a complete rollercoaster for you and America.

It had been so long since the both of you enjoyed the family festivities you had almost forgotten about the family and friends you two had out there. Stephen and Christine had prepared a little gathering for New Year, once they heard of you and America decorating your home they decided it was time to continue with the traditions.

“It’s just a light dinner, everyone is going to be there and you can bring a plus one.” Christine winked at you while nodding towards Wanda who was laughing at Stephen while the twins, America and Kate worked on the decorations on the tree.

“Gods, you guys are not gonna let me life this down, are you?”

“Nope, and you better get used to it, missy.” Christine placed her hand on top of yours softening while offering you her motherly smile. “You look happy, and this woman and her children they had come into your life at the right time.”

“They are amazing, you know?”

“I know.” Christine took another sip from her chocolate, “I know you want to spend Christmas with them, so that’s why I told Stephen we could change our plans this year for New Year’s Eve.”

“You guys are awesome, I think we will do it, I know America misses you and your food and I guess…well, it has been a while.”

“Exactly! You won’t regret it and if, by any chance you can’t get back we still have your old room fixed.”

“Oh, you haven’t changed it into a gym?”

Christine chuckled winking at you before standing up, “Stephen tried to make it into one, I didn’t allow it.”

You laughed shaking your head while putting the dishes on the dishwasher. Christine joined in the fun in the living room, she commanded Stephen to bring in the gifts they had brought and the twins soon lit up at the word gifts. Wanda winced trying to placate them and not let them get their hopes up.

“Guys, I think they are referring to the gifts for America and Y/N…”

“You are wrong, Mrs, Maximoff.” Stephen interrupted offering a half smile, “we brought gifts for everyone, I will be right back, dear. America can you help me out?”

Wanda blinked in confusion, something that Christine soon waved away.

“Oh, Wanda, you and the boys are family, of course we brought gifts for everyone. Even Kate.”

Kate perked up at the mention of her name, “really?”

“Oh, dear, after you and America were pinning for one another all these years, it was the least we could do.”

Kate rolled her eyes hiding away her flustered cheeks, soon Stephen came in with many packages and America following behind with some boxes. You stood in the distance, enjoying the scene developing in front of your eyes.

Your family was represented in all the people gathered in your living room, the sound of laughter and conversation reached out to you while the kitchen filled with the smell of food. You never thought after so many things happening in your life, that you would spend Christmas with a woman and her kids.

Wanda Maximoff had become the light of your life lately.

Her green eyes, and her beautiful smiled was something you treasured every day. The story about her past, and the fears about the present and the future was something you wished to soothe out. The young woman stood up trying to calm her children when those beautiful green eyes found yours across the room. Her smile never faltered, and you melted into the sight while patting the spot right beside you. She chewed on her lower lip flirty, tilting her head while letting go of the lost fight with the twins and joining you in the kitchen.

The kiss, as always, made your heart fluttered in your chest.

After that visit to the mall, Wanda became more open in her demonstrations of affection towards you. It was as if everything around you and the family eased out, and now there was nothing more than to keep building up the relationship you had with the redhead.

“So, what do you think about Christmas now, missy?” She waved her index finger at you, a faux frown of reproach adorning her forehead.

“I think I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world as long as it is with you.” You smirked, but Wanda rolled her eyes stepping back.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

You chuckled wrapping your arms around her placing your chin on her shoulders while looking into the living room.

“You fell for the sweet talking I did.” Wanda tensed lightly, her smile never faltering.

“I think that I’m still a work in progress.”

You laughed shaking your head, “if you say so.”

“I know so.” Wanda turned in your arms softening slightly.

“I have something for you, but I don’t want to wait for tradition.” Your words piled out one after the other, Wanda shot her eyebrows up into her hairline surprised by your words.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I just…” You smiled sheepishly scratching the back of your neck, “I saw it and made me think of you.”

Wanda placed her left hand on her right elbow, she cocked her head with a tender smile drawn on her lips.

“I got you something as well, just…” She then smirked, “I do want to wait for tradition.”

You huffed tickling her until she was against the counter giggling trying to sweep your hands away from her.

“Come on! I want my gift!”

She ran as soon as she could, almost bumping against Tommy who had a set of Jurassic Park Lego on his hands. Wanda blushed when her son frowned grabbing the set tightly, you chuckled behind her shaking your head while kneeling in front of Tommy.

“Tsk, Wands, really if you want your gift so much I could tell America or Billy to bring it over, right Tommy?”

“Yes, mommy, look! Mr. Strange let me open mine!” Tommy lifted the set grinning, “if you ask Y/N nicely she may let you open yours.”

You laughed falling on your ass when Wanda pushed you playfully she ruffled Tommy’s hair ignoring the confused frown he was still wearing.

“That’s so nice, sweetie, what else did you got? What did Billy get?”

“Oh, he got one from Harry Potter!”

The rest of the afternoon went by with laughter, conversations, and a nice dinner.

Stephen and Christine soon discovered the changes happening around you and America, how your lives were completely different to what they were more than a year ago. The memory of your parents was still present, but you did not carry with the responsibilities as if it was a burden imposed to you but as something you were ready to take upon yourself.

You were finally happy.

And America was finally able to relax a little.

Stephen wouldn’t say it was all thanks to Wanda, but he certainly would say her sudden apparition in your life was a great factor on what you had changed in your life. The man was really happy, and finally he could put at rest his worries about you and America and go back to his best friend to tell him his daughters would be okay.

Christine grasped his hand under the table, she offered a confident smile that Strange returned nodding briefly.

“Well, I guess the time has come for us to go back.”

“What? Why?” America lowered her eyes to the watch on her wrist wincing. “Oh, I see.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo, you and Christine already got that shopping date on, right?” Stephen stood up wrapping his arms around America.

“Well, yeah, that’s true.”

“And you guys still have to go to the New Year’s Party.” Christine left no room for argument, her stern glance went from America to Kate, then to Wanda and finally to you, “it has been so long since the whole team was together, I think it is only fair if we do it this year.”

“I know, I know, don’t worry, we will be there.”

You went to say goodbye to Stephen, the man offering something to you while speaking in hush words. Wanda sensed someone behind her, and here stood Christine with her eyes softened by the sight.

“She has been through a lot, Wanda.”

“So I heard.” Wanda shifted nervously under the stare of Christine; the old woman pressed her lips together before speaking again.

“For what I heard, you have done so as well,” Wanda opened her mouth to speak but Christine shook her head, “no, there is no need to say anything. I just want a few words with you, if you allow me.”

“Sure.”

It was not as if she had any said in the matter, the woman standing before her while gently, kind and completely easy-going was in all reality a force to be reckon with. She had been the director of the paediatric department back in the Stark Hospitals ever since she finished her master’s degree, and her knowledge as well as her iron determination earned him the love of her patients, friends and family. Wanda had seen and heard the affection in you and America whenever talking about the woman, and she also knew that in the absence of your family she and Stephen were the closest thing to parents you had in your life.

The night was freezing with just a few snowflakes falling to the ground.

Inside there was no longer any sound, the twins were about ready to drop on the floor and Kate and America were helping around the house to clean up everything.

“Y/N and America are the closest people I have to me, the ones I dare to call my children,” Christine started never bothering to explain how she and Stephen never got a chance to have children but how they had fallen in love with you two and with Morgan, and with all the children their friends had.

“And when their parents died, they had some rough months in which their roles changed.” Christine snorted lowering her gaze to the ground, “America has always been the mature, responsible one, while Y/N has always been the heart and the determination in the family. She sacrificed herself in order to give America happiness while also keeping up the dream of her parents. That’s why she took the position as a CEO in the Alchemax Industries..”

“I heard something about it,” Wanda shivered under the cold, but her eyes never left the form of Christine, “she really is something else, and I found myself…attracted to her.”

“I know.” Christine’s lips quirk upwards, “I know you like her, and I dare to say love her. She deserves happiness, as much as you and you boys do, so my only advice is to always be honest with one another, and don’t break her heart. She may not look like it, but she really is as soft as a marshmallow and she loves without thinking of the consequences.”

Wanda knitted her brows together, dropping her glance for a moment.

“I don’t want to hurt her.”

“I’m glad you two are taking things slowly, and if you allow me to say it, she really is very lucky to have someone like you.” Christine winked at a surprised Wanda, she relaxed under the woman’s gaze. “Take your time you two, get to know one another and…well, perhaps in a year’s time we will talk about this moment again, and you two would be a real family.”

Wanda’s heart leap at those words, her image brought right away an scene in which you two were sharing a bed, with the twins sleeping down the hall, and America right next to them. Family dinners, and family outings and in all of them Wanda was smiling longside you with her children and America in the background.

It was a beautiful dream.

“Just a word of advice, if you want it, fight for it, dream it and ask for it…in the end you will get what you desire, but don’t forget that it is not by magic that it comes to you, it si with perseverance, hard work, and good communication.”

“I won’t forget, thank you, Christine.” Wanda stepped forward hugging the woman, Chrstine smiled hugging her back.

“No, thank you Wanda, for loving my children.”

Wanda melted under those words, her first thoughts went directly to you, the one that had done nothing but love hers since the first day.

______________________

Billy and Tommy had fallen asleep as soon as the clock struck 11PM.

You stirred on the spot on the sofa, your gaze Fallin on America and Kate that were snuggled up together on one of the chairs. You smiled at the sight, America looked happy with her arms wrapped protectively around Kate. They really made a cute couple, with America being a dreamer, determined and at times stubborn having someone like Kate who was easygoing, bubbly and calm was like a combination mdenin heaven.

You really wished all the happiness America could get out of that relationship. Your mind soon drifted to the woman in your arms, Wanda was snoring lightly snuggled closer to your body. You sighed contentedly wrapping your arms tightly around her while pressing a kiss to her forehead.

When you started the new year, you never hoped or even dreamed about entering into a relationship or even getting to know someone like Wanda. It was not in your plans, and coming across her in that supermarket marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life.

Your heart fluttered tightly, sending shivers of need all through your body. The wave of affection that came through your body changed slowly to a form of deep love for Wanda Maximoff and those kids that were sleeping in your room.

You brushed her hair, wondering what would happen next. If perhaps Wanda was experimenting the same wave of emotions you were going through. Wanda stirred in your arms, her face lifting lightly nuzzling your neck while her eyelids opens slowly.

“What time is it?”

“I think it is past midnight.” You answered amusedly when the young woman sat up and leaned lazily to place a kiss on your lips.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

Wanda smiled brightly at you, dipping her face bashfully before standing up. She stretched out, glancing around until her eyes fell upon America and Kate that were happily sleeping on the other sofa.

“They look cute.”

“They do.” You agreed following Wanda who had stretched her hand towards you.

“Come I'm going to give you your gift.”

“Really?” You smiled happily with Wanda dragging you right behind her.

“Yes, but only because I want to see mine.”

“Of course, you do.”

The house was dark, and there was really no sound but that of your footsteps on the wooden floor. When you two reached the tree that Wanda had chosen and dressed herself with the help of the twins, the lights they had select gleamed in colours that brought a smile upon your face. The young woman knelt looking around until her hands found that middle size box she was looking for.

“I thought about this really hard, you know?” She stated grabbing the gift in her hands while looking at the tree, you approached her slowly seeing the lights of the tree shinning in her green eyes.

You sat right beside her, waiting with bouncing legs until she gave you the gift. Wanda snorted tilting her head while rolling her eyes.

“This year has been strange for me, you know?” Wanda had thought about this speech all night long, and even the moment she knew you had welcomed her inside your house and family. It was a speech she had prepared ever since that confrontation with America.

“I know. It has been a weird year for me too.”

Wanda sighed caressing the gift, her upper teeth playing with her lower lip.

“I never thought I would experiment these emotions I’m experiencing at the moment, you made me feel so much sometimes its overwhelming,” Wanda lifted her face to the ceiling, her voice soft and filled with unwavering emotion, “Whenever you’re close to me is as if my whole world is shaken and I feel safe.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, Wanda chuckled taking your hands in hers.

“My marriage was full of abused and bad moments; I have to run from him because sooner or later he was going to destroy me and my children.” She waited patiently for the changes that were sure to come, she could feel the tension growing in your body, the trembling hand and the darkening of your eyes showing rage beyond anything Wanda had seen in you before.

“Wanda…” You tried to say something but she shook her head intertwining her fingers with yours.

“It’s in the past, and Natasha has been a great help, I just…”

“When you’re ready, love, I’ll be heard to listen to the complete story.” You lifted your free hand to clean up the tears Wanda was shocked to feel on her cheeks. “Are you alright?”

Wanda laughed humping so she could be closer to you, “I’m better now.”

You lifted her face, leaning in to kiss her slowly tenderly to show her what you could not put into words yet. How much you were starting to love her, the need she built up in you day by day. Wanda leaned into the kiss surrounding to your tenderness and teasing, her body melting right away giving in until breathing was necessary and the both of you parted ways only to press your forehead against hers.

“You have become a great part of my life, and my children love you and I just…” Wanda sighed, “I just hope I’m enough and that I won’t disappoint you.”

“Never, you are enough Wands, and I love them too.” You replied shying away for the real confession. “I am more than happy to be with you here, in this moment, in this place…Now, how about you give me my gift?”

Wanda laughed out loud shaking her head, she handled the box to you shaking her head amusedly.

“Here, I hope you like it.”

Wanda sat with her back completely stretch, she tapped with her fingers the floor you two were sitting on glancing at her gift and then at your face as you struggled with the enveloped and the box. Your heart hammered against your chest, trying hard to keep the moment professional and not as an anxious child that wanted his favourite toy to be inside. You opened it up and your breath caught in your throat.

Inside was a leather jacket all in black with silvery zipper and buttons around the sleeves. The sweet smell of the leather reached your nostrils, and when you touched the material you knew right away that this was an expensive gift coming from her. Wanda was licking her lips chewing on her cheek while waiting for your answer.

“Did you…Did you like it? I could always change it, and the lady at the store told me the size could fit you well but…”

Wanda trailed off feeling your lips on hers.

“It’s perfect.” You mumbled against her lips, “how did you know this was the one I wanted?”

“America.” Wanda replied shrugging, “I just wanted it to be special and well, this was what she wanted to give to you but I convince her to let me gift it to you instead.”

You chuckled putting it out of the box and admiring the handy work on the item.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.”

Wanda beamed proudly, she poked you on the side smiling happily at you.

“Now, what about mine?”

You laughed shaking your head, leaning in you looked for the small square box you had left there early on.

“This one I asked Tommy and Billy for.”

“You did?” Wanda looked shocked at this, you nodded presenting the item to her.

“They told me a story, about a Christmas, long ago.”

Wanda tensed up, her hands were trembling while grabbing the box. She didn’t dare to hope, and she certainly couldn’t look up to see your face. Your voice reached her out, and she was afraid to see what she would find there.

“Your brother, Pietro, and your mother.” You continued, “I remember you telling me about them, but never about this…so I just…”

Wanda couldn’t see clearly through her tears, her fingers trembling as she opened the wrapping and her breath caught in her throat when she found the velvety box under it.

Inside she found a single necklace with a single pendant in the form of a butterfly.

“Tommy said you lost it, and that it was something you liked a lot.”

In all honestly, the boy had mentioned Wanda lost the necklace after she and his father fought. Billy remembered it was something she always wore, and they even showed you a picture of the woman wearing it from an early age. Wanda caressed the necklace softly, her eyes welling up with unshed tears, disbelief filling up her heart when she lifted her eyes to face you.

“It´s beautiful.” She snorted wiping away her tears, “I wish I didn’t cry so much, I feel so foolish…”

“Nah, it’s okay, you know.” You smile sheepishly at her, Wanda presented the box to you the deep emotion she couldn’t hide after receiving the gift still shining on her face.

“My brother and I, we both had the same necklace. It was a gift from my mother.” Wanda softened her expression, putting the necklace out. “Butterflies were her favourite animals, it was her gift for us before leaving school.”

“She was a special woman.”

“She was, she loved me and Pietro so much…” Wanda trailed off furrowing her brows, “perhaps if she had been alive…”

Wanda sighed shrugging, “can you put it on me?”

“Sure, turn around.”

Wanda turned around lifting her hair in a ponytail while presenting her neck to you. You shivered, your hand grabbing the necklace passing your hands around her neck and clasping together. Wanda left her hair fall, shivering while pressing her fingertips on the pendant.

You leaned forward, putting her hair away and placing soft kisses on the length of her neck. The young woman shivered tilting her head to the side, your hands sneaking around her midsection until you were holding her against you.

“Merry Christmas, Wanda.”

“Do you think we can stay like this for a moment?” She leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment.

“Sure.”

Wanda wrapped her hands around yours, letting out a heavy breath before speaking.

“I want to tell you how I got the necklace, and then how I lost you…I just…It is painful and I don’t want to…scare you.”

“You could never scare me, Wands.” You fixed your position on the floor so your back was resting against the sofa and Wanda rested between your open legs. “I would love to hear whatever you are ready to tell me, you know that.”

Wanda let her fingertip touch the butterfly once more, the pain of losing her brother still pulsating through her soul. But soon her words filled the space in the living room, and you were hearing her deepest memories of her family, her mother, her twin brother, and the shattering reality she had to suffer years later.

In all that time, your arms wrapped protectively around her, the rage you felt forgotten to give way to sooth her worries, and to promise her with whispered words that if she allowed it, you would protect her and the twins for as long as she wanted you.

And just like that, you and Wanda got the best Christmas ever.

The snow fell upon the land, and the darkness was completely forgotten.

_____________________________________________________________

Next chapter: Vision gets his vengance, Reader and Wanda never got a chance to have a lone date, and Maria and Fury save the day.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff au

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parrythisucasual · 6 months

Text

What About Me? Ch. 2

Pairing: Jax x Reader (Romantic)

Sub-pairing: Gangle x Reader (Platonic) / Ragatha x Reader (Platonic)

TW: Bullying / Implied depression

Content: You get settled into your room and make a new friend.

Your bedroom was rather plain. A desk, a bed with white sheets, and a tacky poster of a kitten hanging from a tree. “Is this… supposed to mock me?” you ask with a raised brow. “Erm… not sure, exactly? Everyone’s room starts like this. You could always ask Caine to personalize it, or get the paint and do it yourself. Gangle is wonderful at drawing- she could make a poster or two if you asked,” Ragatha explained.

You step into your room, running your fingers over the smooth wood of the desk, thinking, “I have a few ideas… for one, the blankets should be (F/C), not this boring white. I’ll need some desk ornaments, and a few posters too.” You envisioned the perfect room as you listed it. Ragatha smiled, “Well, I can run and tell Caine, if you’d like, you just get settled in,” she waved as she headed back up the hall, “if you need me, holler!”

You turn, settling onto the bed and taking a deep breath. This was crazy, impossible, even, but you were going to get through it. You could take it. You’ve been through worse. At least it’s better than a trip to the emergency room for a broken bone, right? No pain. And it isn’t as if your life before was something spectacular, in fact, it was the opposite. Weren't you now living about a million people’s dream right now? A new, fantastical place with new, interesting people?

“How’s it feelin’, whiney?” your head shot up. Jax was leaning against the doorway, his already typical smug grin plastered across his face. You roll your eyes, “Pretty good, actually, this is gonna be better than my life back home.” Your statement seemed to surprise him, his smile faltering a moment, before he retook the jerk persona, “Oh, yeah? If you’re sooo sure about that,” he shrugged and invited himself into your room, glazing around with disinterest, “I’m betting you won’t last a month. The tough ones crack first.”

Your lips twitch as you resist snapping at him, “Mm, well if you say so,” and lay back against your bed. You were determined to ignore his rather desperate cries for attention. You ran your fingers over the soft white quilt and sighed, relaxing yourself.

Jax, on the other hand, was staring at you, eyebrow raised and a rather irked expression painted on his face. He narrowed his eyes, huffed, and left the room. This made you snort, he was acting like a toddler who was told “no.” Once he was out of earshot, you began to giggle out loud. His reaction was priceless. You were definitely going to ignore him like that permanently.

“Um… Ragatha told me you wanted a few p-posters?” a shy voice peeped. You glanced up, surprised that someone else appeared so quickly. You glanced up, seeing the ribbon-and-mask girl, then smiled a bit, “Oh, yeah. Gangle, right?” She nods and steps closer hesitantly, sniffing. Her ribbons were wrapped around a small stack of papers and ink liners.

“Oh, do you draw manga?” you ask without thinking. The ink liners were the kind you saw anime artists using all over the internet. Gangle nods, setting the stack of papers on your desk, “I don’t anymore, not really… Jax just makes fun of me for it. You frown, that familiar annoyance tingling in your gut, “Hey, just ignore him okay? He’s just a @#$%*,” your rather unpleasant name being censored by a cartoony boink.

She nodded a bit, then lifted a sketching pencil, “Um… what did you want me to draw?” You think a moment, then smile, feeling a twinge of sibling-like love for the sorrowful girl, “How about you just draw? I’d like your art on my walls either way.” Gangle perked up a bit, “Anything?” “Anything.” She nodded and shyly began to sketch. You watched her doodle for a moment, then realized something.

“Weren’t you a comedy mask when I got here?” you inquire, wondering if it changed depending on her mood. “Oh… yeah, I was but… Jax took in in the hall…” she blinked and her tears fell, but new ones immediately formed, “I don’t know where he went with it…” So her mood depended on her mask, not the other way around.

You made a small growl, “I’ll go get it back,” you gently pat where her shoulder would have been, “just stay here, enjoy yourself, okay? Don’t worry.” She nods, and you walk out the door, “And Gangle?” you add on your way out, “if he tries to mess with you, just tell him you don’t care, okay? He wants a rise out of you.” And off you went, in search of the annoying purple rabbit. Oh boy, was he about to get an earful.

TAGGING TIME: @lostsoullover (my bestieeee) @dai-tsukki-desu

#the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #tadc #jax #tadc jax #tadc x reader #tadc jax x reader #the amazing digital circus jax

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naomihatake · 7 months

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 3)

3. A change of heart

Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa.

Warnings for this chapter: anxiety, tarot readings, canon typical violence, tension, mutual pining

Word count: 8k (um? It wasn't supposed to be that long, but I'm not unsatisfied at all)

Theme song: “Hoist the colors” by Bobby bass (click on the link)

A/N: I tried my best to add Zoro's perspective in this part. I don't know if I did a good job or not, but I'm experimenting with writing specific characters and personalities. I think I understand him a tad bit more than I did last time — in case you haven't noticed, I love psychoanalyzing my favorite characters and Zoro is one of them. The last chapter felt quick paced because of the fight, but this one is slow paced; I wanted to stretch the tension that way.

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

"He has quite the bounty on his head," the witch commented as she looked at Buggy's wanted poster.

Zoro's fingers gripped tighter at the hilt of his white sword after he huffed.

"I should've killed him."

"And how were you supposed to be paid for it when you're a wanted man yourself?" Luffy laughed at him.

Another huff left the swordsman's lips and he averted his eyes with a scowl.

"I guess that's also right."

He tore the poster from the wall and squeezed it in his fingers, the paper getting destroyed right in front of his eyes.

"Stupid clown," he muttered.

A light chuckle got his attention; the witch who stood with her arms crossed right next to him didn't seem lively at all. Ever since they stepped on land in the Syrup Village, color drained from her face and she was constantly fidgeting and playing with her fingers. It was weird; the swordsman didn't spend much time with the other three, but they weren't impossible to read.

She didn't seem the type to be so awfully quiet. She had smart comments sitting on the tip of her tongue and it wasn't necessarily hard to make her smile; if anything, Luffy's smile was so contagious and it influenced her greatly, Zoro observed. The straw hat wasn't the only one in that situation — each one of them was. The witch somehow knew what to say and how to treat them, how to approach a topic.

Maybe that's why she was called a witch. For the life of it, Zoro didn't like to read between the lines and his usual blunt personality drew people away because they misinterpreted it as rudeness. Did he care? Not really. So why did he suddenly think too much about it? Why was he thinking of ways to get a word out of her mouth?

The woman his eyes were fixated on didn't hear Nami when she appeared, coming back to earth only after Luffy nudged her side with his elbow.

"Let's go find a ship."

She only nodded and followed along, burying one hand in the pocket of her pants. He saw when she bought a pocket knife from a stand and hid it. Zoro guessed her fingers were always curled around the knife for safety reasons, even if her fear seemed irrelevant — nothing was suspicious in that village.

They were the only suspicious people around there. A navigator who is a thief, a green-haired tall man with three swords attached to his hip, a pirate who wore a straw hat and a beautiful witch.

Beautiful, indeed, even if that word alone didn't do the woman enough justice. Not only the way she looked was pretty, but the way she carried herself, how stable she was on her feet, the sparkle in her eyes, the taunting mischief of her gentle smile.

A smile that has been gone for half of a day, now replaced by anxiety. Even a blind man could see the unsettling feeling she was carrying.

Zoro didn't realize when he took the opportunity of looking at her hair bouncing with each step after he chose to walk behind them all. He shook his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, moving his gaze away. His mind shouldn't be wandering on useless things.

Nami stopped in her tracks once they reached the dock.

"We don't need something flashy, we have to sneak it out of here without anyone noticing."

"You mean we're gonna steal a ship?" Luffy furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes?" the navigator frowned. "Wasn't that obvious already? How else are we gonna get a ship?"

"We can ask for one!" he beamed.

"So you think that just talking with someone would bring us a ship?"

The witch only sighed and shook her head at the other two's argument.

"Fine," Nami gave in after looking for too long at Luffy's puppy eyes. "But if it doesn't work, we do it my way."

"Deal."

Instantly, he walked away in search of a ship.

"So, what's the actual plan?" Zoro asked nonchalantly.

"You two look around and see how lax the security is around here. I'm gonna look for a ship and if we have enough luck, we will bribe Luffy into stealing one."

"I wish you luck," the swordsman smirked.

That's how they split up, Nami heading in a different direction while the witch walked straight up ahead with one hand still in her pocket. He approached her after a few long steps, merely looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

"If you keep walking around so stiff, people will guess we have something to hide."

"The only thing I have to hide is a pocket knife. On the other hand, you have three swords and no one looked at you suspiciously yet."

Finally, she said full phrases. However, there was no change in her expressionless face.

"What's up?" he fully turned his head towards her.

"Hm?"

Those beautiful eyes looked up at him curiously.

"Is someone suspicious?" he asked.

"No, just the air."

Once again, she turned her face away before he was able to read what she was hiding. It didn't seem like something big or dangerous, but she was definitely acting shady.

On top of it all, she wasn't exactly paying attention to her surroundings, since she didn't notice the two marines walking around the corner. Zoro wrapped an arm around her middle and placed a palm over her mouth, shoving the both of them between two buildings.

Her fingers grasped at his wrist and if she wouldn't have reminded herself to let go of the knife, she could've cut him.

"You could've just warned me," she whispered to him after she moved his hand away.

They both noticed their situation way too late. Her back was pressed against his chest and his arm was holding her securely next to him. His fingers burned her skin even through the large shirt she was wearing. The air got knocked out of her lungs and for a moment, she remembered the second reason for her unsteady feelings — him. The pirate hunter she didn't like thinking of because it was better that way.

When Zoro noticed the marines went away, he let go of her, even if too slowly. He let his suspicions get the best of him.

"What are you hiding?"

The witch — who just grabbed at his arm to move it away — was in that moment frozen on the spot.

"Nothing important."

From behind her, he couldn't see the way she frowned.

"You're like a walking ball of anxiety."

"I told you, it's just a shift in the air. Nothing important," she gritted her teeth, getting irritated.

Why was she distant? Did she think he wouldn't believe in her intuition? — that's what she'd probably call it.

She moved away after what felt like years, but her shoulders relaxed. It seemed like she figured out God-knows-what.

"I don't like the energy. It feels like I'm gonna die soon."

"Did you see a black cat?"

"No, I feel something crawling up my throat."

She resumed her walking and he kept up with her for the second time that day.

"Everything seems fine. I saw only those two marines and they were awfully relaxed," Zoro changed the topic.

"Then, just like Nami guessed, the security isn't exactly top class," the witch responded.

They walked around in silence, spotting Luffy on a ship with a goat figurehead. The swordsman could see the happiness bouncing around the straw hat who just called out at them.

"Guys! I found it!"

"Did you think for more than two seconds before choosing it?" the witch arched her eyebrow, amused.

"Actually, one glance was enough to know this was the perfect ship for us."

"Why am I not surprised you were right?" Nami sighed.

"He will sell it to us," Luffy pointed at a young man who walked behind him.

"Um, actually, this is not for sale," he tries to smile, rubbing at the back of his neck in embarrassment.

His golden-brown skin glistened in the early sun rays, which most probably meant he was working on something.

"And I'm not a salesman," he added. "But my friend owns this ship."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

They found out his name was Usopp and the friend he was talking about was a girl who was celebrating her coming of age on that day. Kaya not only invited them to dinner, but insisted they could sleep over, considering they were “Usopp's friends”. The witch was still getting used to being called a friend or comrade, since she doesn't remember the last time that word was met with serious intentions.

The girl's mansion was… big. It was like a labyrinth and even if Zoro was bad at directions, she thought it started to rub off on her the moment she walked towards the dressing room after taking a bath. The lights weren't particularly bright and the sun was setting by that time. The curtains were tied together, leaving space for the warm golden lights to bathe the hallways.

Mystery clung to each artifact and painting. It was beautiful, yes, but there was a certain aura of that place that unsettled her.

Not to mention the staff — she never thought it would come a day when she'd say “these people are weird”. For the past two years she's been traveling alone around the Blue East and she met dozens of people, one more intriguing than the other. However, that butler was suspicious. She wanted to believe he was just a father figure for Kaya and he was protective of her, but she couldn't.

From the moment when she entered the dressing room — she's surprised she even found it —, she decided to answer some questions of her own.

She shuffled her tarot cards in her hands, meticulously arranging each card that fell, putting them in order. It was confusing her — it was the second time she does the same thing, with the same question in mind, and she received the same ambiguous answer. Why did the cards have to be particularly hard to guess on that day?

She ran her fingers through her hair and ruffled it, accidentally tugging harshly enough to make her frown deepen, but she held back a hiss. Maybe some pain would help her focus, instead of letting her mind waver. Luffy, who sat cross legged on the carpet, just like her, was analyzing her reactions because he had no clue what she was doing.

"What do you see?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Why are you whispering?" Zoro asked.

The swordsman hasn't moved since he came into the dressing room and sat on a comfortable chair. He flexed his arms when he crossed them over his chest and threw one or two glances at the swords leaning against the armrest.

"I don't know," Luffy whispered again, snapping his head towards him.

She didn't pay attention to them at all. She had to admit that she felt better than an hour ago, before having the opportunity to take a bath, the reason why she was wearing a dressing gown only. It was so soft and the material felt perfect against her flushed skin, her collarbones exposed entirely.

She was completely unaware of the gaze locked on her. The woman had no clue a specific swordsman was thinking more than he usually does. There was an inner battle he couldn't fight by using his three swords style. He occupied himself by focusing on the material things; the carpet was soft.

Just as soft as her body when he glued her back to his chest to avoid those marines.

"What do you think?" Nami smiled proudly after she appeared from behind the room divider.

"You look like Nami," Luffy shrugged.

The witch chuckled at the response. She didn't smile once since she entered that mansion, but she couldn't help her reaction. Instead, she raised her head to the orange-haired woman whose shoulders fell at the answer she received.

After a few seconds of thinking, the witch decided to give her a real opinion:

"It compliments your body, but it isn't necessarily flattering — maybe you can find a few other options?"

Nami nodded, moving around to search for something else.

"I kind of feel bad for Kaya… she must feel lonely in such a big house," Luffy commented.

The witch decided to avoid the conversation, her eyes stuck once again on the few cards splayed over the carpet. She took in a deep breath and then sighed. It made sense, but it didn't feel like a complete answer. She decided to turn the rest of the deck upside down and take the card on the top.

"Dammit," she cussed out.

It confused her even more, so she just put the card back in the deck.

After a minute of spacing out, she managed to focus on the other three in the room.

"Rich people don't feel emotions the same way we do," Nami said flatly.

"She seems kind, though," the witch hesitated as the words left her lips.

"That's a big word," Nami probably rolled her eyes, considering her tone.

"Probably. She seems better than the butler, by the way."

"Have you guys seen him before?" Zoro asked, shifting in his seat.

Immediately, the witch moved her head towards him. He answered a question she didn't even ask and her fears felt validated for a brief second. So he also found that man suspicious.

"No, but I don't like him at all," the witch responded firmly.

"How come you can talk so easily about people you just met? No offense."

Nami was still looking around for a dress when she talked.

"It's not that I'm being judgmental — I can't assume what those people did or not. However, tell me, what about the staff makes you go 'oh, yes, they're good people'?"

"Good point," she pulled her lips together in a straight line. "They're weird."

The shuffling through clothes stopped, which meant Nami found something. Except, it wasn't for her, but for the swordsman who caught the caramel silky shirt that was thrown into his lap.

The witch let out another long exhale and closed her eyes. She hoped she could ground herself in a way or another, despite the unhelpful air surrounding the entire house. It was suffocating and it felt as if there was a heavy press on the crown of her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Seconds passed and the only thing she found in the depths of her thoughts was doubt and uncertainty. Nothing felt right, but she couldn't point out exactly what gave off that kind of aura. Slowing down her breathing didn't help either.

By the time she gave up and huffed, Nami and Luffy were out of the room. She saw the glimpse of a red silky dress pooling around someone's legs. Said person was Nami, surely.

A dress. Maybe it would be easier to hide a knife in her thigh holster.

"You're staring at these cards like you're gonna find out something, but I doubt you found anything," Zoro got her attention.

Once again, her fingers gripped at the strands of hair. Putting her confusion into words left a lump in her throat.

"I don't know what's going on and it's annoying. I don't have time for life lessons."

"Going on with what?"

"This entire mansion, maybe?" she looked at him.

His gaze made her skin tingle and she didn't know if she welcomed that foreign sensation or not. Everytime he talked, he managed to get her out of her thoughts, and she was both grateful and angry about it. For some reason, his stoic personality was safe in that maze.

"The butler is hiding something, that I know for sure," she whispered this time. "I never saw him, but something doesn't feel right at all. Protecting Kaya? It sounds like bullshit to me, Zoro."

She was stubborn about the opinion she has of that man and maybe it was wrong, but did she really care?

The swordsman didn't expect the sound of his name rolling off her tongue to stir something inside of him. It almost stung, her voice craving words in languages he's never spoken on his ribs. He paid attention, even if on a normal day he wouldn't listen to superstitions and the words of a probably insane witch.

Except it sounded like she was the most sane of them all.

"It probably won't make sense for you, but he's lying about something. He's not just a butler," she continued after glancing back at the cards. "He's fooling everyone and he's doing it well. This isn't what I'm actually concerned about — there's another lie I can't point out. The cards don't help. It feels like I'm being deceived, but for a good reason."

"By who?"

"I don't know. Or maybe I just want to avoid the answer."

She always hated her suspicious nature, the way her trust could be gained only by a few, and all of these people have been gone for years. She shouldn't be like that, it would be better if she'd have some faith in the people around her, if she'd allow herself to believe in them and their words. The ability to trust was a desire — something she wanted, but didn't have.

Zoro's body tensed and his frown deepened when he realized she was suspicious about one of them. At the same time, her attitude didn't match up because she seemed to despise her own suspicions.

Why was he so concerned about her? Yeah, right, he has no clue. Amazing. Perfect.

"I hate this," she muttered under her breath.

The witch put all of her cards in the deck and threw it on a chair after she stood up. Her eyes fell on the variety of clothes and she wondered what the fuck she was doing there in the first place.

Why was she there? She didn't promise to stay with Luffy. She had the opportunity to remain in Syrup Village for a while and then leave, just like every time. What was she doing in that mansion, looking at too many clothes hung in a huge room?

"Aren't you also gonna change?" she said without turning towards him.

"Do you even trust us?"

The question had the same effect as the tight embrace she was pulled into a few hours ago. Her breath hitched and she hesitated, fingers clutching at the material of her dressing gown.

The truth was other than what she thought of this entire time; yes. Yes, she did, and that was the most dangerous situation of them all.

"I wish I didn't," she whispered.

It was inexplicable, the faith she had in humanity after meeting Luffy. She would clutch at her heart and talk about how humans don't deserve her trust, she would talk for hours about how mischievous people are, that they adore taking advantage of others.

So it was normal to despise that feeling of longing, the desire to get attached to people, the need for a connection. It was normal to fear a bad ending and it was even worse that she thought such a thing couldn't happen anymore.

That was why the tarot cards confused her. They told a story different from the one her soul knew. What betrayal? What secret? Who was in pain they couldn't express? And why did she get the feeling that it wasn't exactly betrayal?

Her answer probably satisfied Zoro, since he got up from the chair and took a black suit he noticed minutes ago. He didn't say a word, but his shoulders were relaxed again.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch was the last one to arrive downstairs, in a room that seemed like a living. She found it uncomfortable to wear a dress in a house filled with strange people, since it held her speed back and it wouldn't be exactly easy to defend herself. She opted for a dress she could move in, only squeezing her waist and chest, fluttering around her knees. It was long enough to hide a knife in her thigh holster. Getting discovered wasn't on her to-do list, but she had to ensure her own safety.

While she changed, her mind wandered… would any of them help if something happened? Her guess was that yes, they'd jump into action.

Without noticing, after she walked down the stairs, she gravitated close to the swordsman. She was with her back at one of her comrades, never out in the open, sharp eyes scanning each corner of the room. The table in the middle was strong, she figured out after she tapped her nail over the surface. If there were guns involved, she could use it as a shield.

"You should try these!" Luffy spoke with his mouth full of cookies as he looked towards her and Zoro.

"I have everything I need right here," the green-haired man responded with a smirk.

There was a glass of cocktail in between his fingers and he took a long gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Only now, the witch took her time to gaze at the expense of his shoulders, the suit fitting him perfectly. Considering how casual he dresses, it was surprising to see that kind of formal attire hugging his body so deliciously. The usual cockiness of his smirk was still present, just like the hand shoved into the pocket of his black suit pants.

Roronoa Zoro was more attractive than she liked to admit. His sharp jawline and the smallest bump at the base of his nose, the tall stature, those deep brown eyes sparkling in the light of a candelabra — damn, he looked like he'd been sculpted by the gods, despite the lack of belief he had in such almighty beings. The air was tight when she inhaled and she almost felt bad for ogling at him — almost, because the first time she met him, she was busy sweeping the floor with some Marines.

A feeling of control and steadiness oozed out of him, pulling her closer like a spell. For the briefest moment, her shoulders relaxed at the reminder that she's not alone there, that there are three other people she can put an ounce of trust in. That was the least she could do at that time.

With her arms crossed loosely over her stomach, the witch watched the interaction between Nami and a businessman — he looked and acted exactly like one, but lacked the mischief.

She missed the glance the swordsman threw at her, a look that lasted for too long to be friendly, but short enough to miss it. No, he thought to himself before taking another gulp of the liquor in his glass. He doesn't have time to indulge into such things.

The witch sighed at her own observations; she should unwind for a little while. She picked another glass of cocktail that was on the table and sipped, furrowing her eyebrows.

"It's sweet," she mumbled, surprised after licking her lips.

"Don't confuse sweetness for how strong it is," Zoro chuckled.

That simple sound made her heart skip a beat or two, bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pitch of her stomach.

"Beginner's mistake, I suppose," she shrugged.

Too bad she wasn't exactly a beginner.

The talkative Usopp and Luffy stopped, which caught her attention; these two were the loudest people she's ever met in her entire life. Kaya was walking down the stairs, her slim arms curled around one of Klahadore's — the butler.

Only now, the witch took her time and looked at her. The pastel pink dress drained the life out of that girl, as if her pale skin didn't do that enough. Her cheeks were sunk and her smile seemed fragile like glass. She still remembers the cough that ripped through Kaya's lungs like an old knife.

Usopp looked at her as if he saw his dream before his eyes. He was love-struck.

The witch smiled at the realization. A puzzle so easy to solve.

The only thing Luffy loved as much as his dream and crewmates was food. Behind the door where the stairs ended, there was a big table filled with too many plates to count and a variety of dishes. His eyes sparkled as if there was gold.

A simple minded person, indeed, and maybe that was for the best.

She couldn't rest. She was on high alert, her heart beating faster each time her eyes glanced over at the butler. The fork in between her fingers stabbed the meat in her plate once in a while, but the knot in her stomach was difficult to undo. The only reason why she managed to remain steady was the swordsman who sat to her left and — by some powers bestowed by the gods — felt steady and safe. His presence pulled her back to reality, stealing her attention. The witch has never been more glad not to be alone.

"We wanted to talk with you about a ship," Luffy said with a big smile on his face.

"Right," Kaya smiled back, letting her fork down. "Usopp told me you are sailors."

"We aren't sailors, we are pirates."

Damn it, Luffy!

The witch gulped, squeezing her eyes shut at their captain's excitement. This was about to end very badly.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The dinner ended abruptly. Kaya had a coughing fit and she wasn't feeling well, meanwhile, the butler blamed it on Luffy, who got on the table and had an entire speech. They weren't welcome there anymore and were supposed to leave at the first hour in the morning.

The witch found each opportunity not to be alone, aware it wouldn't be in her advantage in case something happened. When she saw Nami head back to their guest room, the witch followed her. She needed to change out of that dress into something she could run and fight in, like her usual clothes.

After locking the door behind her, she looked at Nami who was already slipping her arms out of the sleeves of that beautiful red dress.

"I didn't get to tell you that you look stunning in that, by the way. Definitely the best choice," the witch mumbled as she averted her eyes to offer some privacy.

"Not really the moment to talk about dress up, is it?"

"I know, but some compliments wouldn't hurt anyone, right?"

Wrong, apparently, since Nami stilled in her tracks. The witch decided to sit in silence for a while, while she changed from the dress as well, pulling on a plain t-shirt and some comfortable jeans she tucked into her boots.

The woman was aware of Nami who was moving behind her, now holding a pillowcase in between her fingers. It was clear she tried to move fast and leave the room before she could be noticed.

"Wanna be petty towards that rude butler?"

"It's not like anyone would notice. She's filthy rich," Nami mumbled through gritted teeth, disappointed about being caught. "Do you have eyes at the back of your head, by any chance?"

"Nope," the witch accentuated the p sound. "Just associating the rustling with the source."

"Did you eat some kind of sensory devil fruit?"

"Got born with it," the woman joked lightly.

Only then, she turned towards Nami, who stood tall, head tilted towards her. The witch was convinced about the suspicion she had while doing that tarot reading, but this time there wasn't a turmoil in her chest. The thunderstorm stopped, despite the clouds still covering the sky of her mind.

"Be careful roaming around with a pillowcase in your hand. We'll get in trouble if anyone catches us, especially the staff. They're creepy as hell."

"The girl hissed at me," Nami scoffed.

"Gods," the witch placed her hand on her forehead and shook her head. "Do you have any guesses about where the others might be?"

"Zoro drank like two bottles of alcohol, so I'll suppose he's searching for more."

The witch smiled softly at the response, despite the fact that she missed the undertone of Nami's answer.

"Don't tell me you were curious about Luffy or, worse, Usopp."

"Hm?"

An intelligent retort. The witch gulped down and looked away, biting at the inside of her cheek.

"I mean, Luffy gets himself in trouble all the time, it's not hard to find him."

"Are you acting stupid with me?"

Nami was grinning like the devil itself. Dammit, did she really have to be so observant?

"I'm pretty aware I'm smart, actually, so I don't get where this comes from," the witch whispered.

There was a hue pink covering her cheeks and she was fidgeting with her fingers behind her back, doing all of these gestures unconsciously. She felt like an idiot at that moment, she had to admit.

Then, as if lightning struck her, she widened her eyes for a brief second. She didn't even know why she was there, in that mansion, surrounded by strangers she wanted to put her trust into.

"What are you thinking of?" Nami asked.

"None of us promised to become a crew," she shook her head. "It doesn't matter."

The navigator narrowed her eyes at the witch whose shoulders fell, the shyness she felt earlier deflating.

"It looks like it matters to you, though."

"That's exactly why I'm saying it," she smiled sourly. "Gotta make myself believe otherwise."

Silence stretched between the two of them. Two women who had stories and feelings to hide knew when to stop from asking questions, even if it would end up bloody later. It was clear both of them wanted to avoid sensitive subjects, even if the witch barely noticed when Nami started being the interrogator.

"Be careful, Nami," the witch smiled at her sincerely. "Usopp may be good at bluffing, but I'm better at playing the innocent. If you need someone to gaslight the shit out of the butler, just tell me."

I know what you do is wrong, but I believe you'll make a wise decision by the end of this all. I believe in your reasoning and I hope you can put your trust in me as well.

"Noted," and with that, the navigator left the room.

The witch almost got lost in that labyrinth again. She wanted to go to the kitchen, place where Luffy most probably was, but maybe she walked down a bit too many stairs and headed to the wrong side of the mansion.

She saw a tall figure in the dark basement where barrels full of wine were arranged with utmost care. She furrowed her eyebrows when she saw Klahadore standing in the way, making one step back. Face to face with him was Zoro, who was ready to draw his sword out of its scabbard, but he quickly got hit in the back of his head by someone.

The witch's eyes widened, but she received the same treatment by someone who managed to sneak behind her back.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

Her head ached, sending daggers all the way to her forehead. The witch let out a guttural groan and her hand flew to her nape, caressing the sore spot.

When her eyes opened, she was greeted by the dead body of Merry, the business man she noticed at the dinner. She flinched, scrambling to her feet, which wasn't an intelligent idea. Her vision blurred black and she felt dizzy, suddenly unsteady. If not for Zoro's grip on her arms, she would've fallen ungraciously on her butt.

"What the heck?" she mumbled.

After a few seconds that felt a bit too long, she couldn't understand exactly why it was so cold in that place. Her chin tilted back so she could look up at the night sky.

They were at the bottom of a well.

"We have to get out," Zoro spoke in a gruff voice.

He sighed heavily and let go of the witch, while she looked at him with the face of are you fucking serious?

"How?" she spoke without thinking.

After a failed attempt to escape by using a long rope with a big hook attached to it, she tried using her short knives to stick the blades in between the rocks; it didn't work either.

There was only one option left and she was speechless.

Her heart sank when she watched Zoro grip at the rocks. He was strong, yes, definitely stronger than her on the physical side, but what if he couldn't climb up? What if he would fall?

Then I'd catch him. We either die here together or we get out together.

Her mind was set. She watched him carefully, gulping when she watched him struggle. His weight might do some damage if she dared to be reckless enough to catch him, but he was the only one who could climb those rocks. If she would've tried, she'd surely fall.

Just like she supposed, his fingers didn't grip well enough at one of the rocks and his feet slipped. He lost his equilibrium and wasn't fast enough to clutch onto another rock or stabilize his foot in time, and he fell back.

Maybe that witch was more reckless than anyone would've guessed. On top of it, she was selfless enough to believe that if he managed to get out and get help, it didn't matter what happened later, so she tried her best to mitigate the impact.

She was right — air got knocked out of her lungs when his body fell on top of hers and she groaned, but at least he didn't break some ribs. Her arms were wrapped around his waist and her fingers clutched at his shirt. Pain traveled through her body quickly and didn't disappear, but the adrenaline paid off.

"Are you alright?" she asked him in a hurry.

"You're insane," Zoro concluded, exasperated.

His back was glued to her chest and he tilted his head to the side to look at her. Maybe, for once, he was right about her.

"I'd rather break one of my ribs. You're the only one who can get us out," she argued with a frown between her eyebrows.

The witch looked away and blinked. She didn't want to focus on how hot the air felt, despite the bone chilling cold in that tight space. The butterflies in her stomach could be ignored if she gathered enough self control in time.

However, Zoro didn't move. He seemed troubled, completely out of it as he continued to look up at the night sky with a scowl on his face. His entire body was tense and he was deep down in his thoughts, especially since he didn't move a finger since he disagreed with her idea of "helping".

As if struck by lightning, he got back up, following the same steps from earlier.

"Be careful."

He stopped in his tracks right after his fingers gripped at some rocks.

"Move away if I fall again."

"I won't move and you won't fall."

It pushed him at the edge, mingling with the memories flowing through his mind about his long lost friend, about the girl whose strength he admired so greatly it made him move again. For a brief second, he thought of himself as a coward for overthinking the process. He either got out alive and managed to get her out as well, or they were both doomed — there was no in between.

Steadily, a tad bit slower than before, he climbed up the wall. His body ached at the effort when he was more than half way through and he would stop for a few seconds before making another move, clutching at another rock that would get him higher.

Despite being so low, several meters under the ground, her trust in him didn't waver. Her heart squeezed with worry, but she wanted to follow her instinct and how much she believed in him, even if it was unusual. Maybe it was because of his stubbornness, since if he was set on something, there was no way of stopping him.

He lost his equilibrium for a fraction of a second. Her breath hitched, eyes widening, his name stopping on the tip of her tongue.

His foot slipped and some dust fell to the bottom of the well, next to her. She breathed out in relief when he was quick enough to grip at another rock.

The witch didn't doubt him one bit when he finally got out of the well. He kept the rope he found in the well at his waist while he climbed up, so he could help her get out too.

From up there, Zoro held tightly onto the rope, just as tightly as she did, even if her fingers hurt and she didn't exactly trust her body to be strong enough. She gripped at the cord and climbed the stone wall, gritting her teeth whenever it seemed like she might fall.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat.

It was a slow process, which was worrisome from her perspective. She advanced, but the longer she struggled, it felt endless.

For the record, she believed in Zoro more than she believed in herself — she didn't have low self-esteem either.

"Look up," he reminded her firmly.

He prompted his feet into the ground and held tightly, waiting for her.

"Trying," she mumbled to herself.

Slowly, she got closer and closer to the exit. Zoro bent his torso and curled his fingers around her forearm, managing to help her out.

"Fuck," she cursed.

Her breath was labored and she was sweating heavily, a droplet falling from her temple to her jaw and down her neck. She let herself on the grass, her arm still in his hand.

"I owe you my life," she breathlessly mumbled.

Unconsciously, her fingers were clutching onto his arm for support, even if her knees trembled from the tumult she went through.

"We have time for that later," he brushed it off. "We have to find the others."

"That butler isn't new to killing people who stand in his way. We better hurry before he chops us off."

"His name is Kuro. He was the captain of the Black Cat Pirates and supposedly died three years ago, when Axe-Hand Morgan killed him — the Marine Captain we encountered back in Shell Town."

The swordsman kept his grip firm on her, carefully bringing her back to her feet while he talked.

"I saw his face on a wanted poster some time ago, but since he was presumed dead, no one cared anymore."

"He looked very much alive to me," the witch retorted.

"I was with Usopp when I went to get wine and he managed to escape from the butler. Maybe he went to search for help, even if I doubt any untrained person could harm these pirates. Luffy was in the kitchen, eating some weird blue food."

Zoro let go of her and walked in the opposite direction of the mansion and she looked at him confused.

"Oi, Zoro, the house is the other way—"

Then, when she looked at the path that went through the forest surrounding the mansion, she felt a pull towards it. She furrowed her eyebrows and continued staring.

"You go that way. Nami is surely still inside."

"You just said I went in the opposite direction, though?" Zoro arched his eyebrow at her.

"Usopp searched for help, but if we think about it, Kaya said he has a lot of stories to tell. He's bluffing a lot, even if with no bad intentions. Maybe he found someone — if there's no sign of life on the path, come back."

"And you?"

"I'll find Nami and Kaya somehow."

Zoro didn't believe in superstitions and higher beings, but he trusted her instinct, so he headed the other way. The witch opened the door slowly, making no sounds. She slipped inside and looked around for an insane pirate who hisses — these two were creepy.

The young woman flinched when all the light suddenly disappeared and behind her, a heavy metal wall met the floor, stopping everyone from moving in or out of there. Fuck.

She gripped with both of her hands at the daggers she held at her hip, holding them securely. With slow steps, the witch made her way through the house. The big candelabrum hanging from the ceiling marked the way to enter and leave the house. To the left was the kitchen and to her right was the living room. The guest rooms and dormitories were upstairs. She still remembers which one was her room for the might and the bathroom.

If she didn't want to die there, she had to quickly figure that place out.

She heard one single step from the stairs and her attention shot up. Sham looked at her perplexed, but grinned widely.

"You were supposed to be dead, little mouse."

"Don't confound me with your food," the witch held the knives tighter.

Instantly, the woman jumped at her with a mop in her hands. The witch dodged the attack with a knife and the one that followed, bending her knees to avoid getting hit again. She tried to cut Sham's leg with her knife, but the maid was fast, jumping back in time.

Zoro, if you get lost on the way back, I'll wake up from the dead and kill you, she thought to herself.

"Captain Kuro will kill Kaya tonight and there's nothing you can do to stop him."

Sham's wooden mop clashed against the witch's dagger and avoided the knife which almost sunk into her shoulder. Sham attempted to make her fall by kicking her legs, but the witch made a light jump before she could fall.

It would draw attention to her and the cook might appear out of nowhere, but the witch sheathed one of the knives and pulled a pistol, aiming at the hissing woman.

"I'm too fast for your shitty guns, girl."

Yeah, sure. It was her time to grin at Sham.

Her eyes followed each of the maid's movements, moving her arm just in time to shoot her side. Sham was lucky enough to move out of the way, but the next bullet scarred her upper arm, another hiss leaving her lips.

"Fuck."

Aw, the kitty was angry.

The witch widened her eyes when she saw Sham pull a sword that seemed more suited for decor. She had to dodge the next attack, the blade almost touching her neck when she stopped it with her knife.

"Hey, Sham, do you need some help?"

The witch gulped at the new voice. It was the cook.

"I don't really think so."

The witch jumped back before her neck got cut, breathing heavily. She had to block other attacks while she attempted to find a weak spot, an opening to shoot and do it well.

The witch groaned when the blade left a deep and clean slice on her left upper arm. It stretched horizontally on the side. The shock almost paralyzed her and blood was quick to flow down her arm.

She tossed a knife through the air, the tip sinking straight into Sham's right arm.

A weight sound caught her attention and she turned her head towards the metal wall behind her that was slowly being lifted up by strong arms. Who the fuck could—

Oh, right. They had a bulky swordsman as part of the crew.

"Took you long enough," the witch muttered through gritted teeth.

Luffy bent down and smiled at her widely.

"Sorry for that."

"Keep apologies for later. Go after Kuro — he wants to kill Kaya."

Zoro followed the straw hat, straightening his back when he got inside. His eyes narrowed when he saw the crimson liquid covering the witch's arm, drawing his swords out. He could use the adrenaline pumping through his veins against the man who launched an attack at him.

"Go, Luffy. We'll keep these two occupied," he instructed.

The scent of blood filled the witch's nostrils. She aimed the gun at Butchy and the bullet flew right next to his ear, stopping him from hitting the swordsman. Sham was bold for taking the knife out of her arm and running towards the witch with the weapon in her hold. The witch stumbled and her back glued the floor, both her hands gripping harshly at Sham's arm, stopping the tip of the knife a few centimeters above her eyes.

"You little bitch," the pirate hissed at her.

The witch kicked the maid into the stomach with her knee, pushing her off of her. Luffy disappeared and the sound of blades clashing against each other filled the room.

Zoro used raw strength whenever he attacked Butchy, his swords almost cutting through the man with swift gestures of the wrist, elbows angled perfectly. He had more fighting experience than her and it showed, so she was more than just happy not to get sliced in half by the other two.

She cussed when she remembered she had only one revolver, the other one left in the room. She had three bullets left.

Her head got cloudy when she quickly got back to her feet, her breathing labored. She was tired and the only reason why she ignored her bleeding wound was the adrenaline.

This time, when Sham attacked with the mop, the witch only moved to the side and took advantage of the opportunity to cut with the knife through the flesh, the tip sinking deeper and deeper into the maid's stomach, until her body went limp.

The witch let Sham fall to the floor and stepped back. She felt her pulse pump through her head, slowing her down. She tried to focus on breathing evenly and eventually not passing out.

She heard a loud thump — the cook was down and Zoro sheathed his swords. He didn't break a sweat, or so it looked from her blurry perspective.

A sound rang through the air sharper than her daggers and it lit her on fire. The sound of her name being spoken with worry latched onto Zoro's voice.

He walked down two or three stairs at once, undoing the bandana from his head and wrapping it around her wound. She hissed when he knotted the material tightly in order to stop the bleeding.

"Thanks," she whispered, her body still tense.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

"Don't mention it," Luffy smiled widely at Kaya. "We couldn't have let him hurt you or deceive people anymore."

If it wasn't for his rubber body, maybe they wouldn't have gotten out alive, but luck sided with them again.

"I could never thank you enough, but this is all I can do for you now."

The witch stared at the goat figurehead of the ship Luffy was enamored with. Kaya talked, but the words weren't registering in the woman's ears since a small little creature curled around one of her legs. The black cat mewled sweetly and begged for attention, a luxury it received quickly. The witch crouched down and petted the animal with a smile on her lips, brushing her fingers over the soft fur. The cat purred loudly, rolling on its back and pawing at the woman, greedy for affection.

"How's your wound?"

When she lifted her head, her eyes met Zoro's. One of his hands rested on the hilt of his Wado Ichimoji and the other was stuffed into the pocket of his jeans — she learned that was one of his most relaxed stances.

His bandana was still wrapped around her upper arm and the bleeding stopped long ago. She didn't get the chance to properly clean her arm or tend to the cut, but she felt content.

"I'll care for it on the ship after we set sail," she said in a soft voice.

Yes, that was the voice that made his heart hammer in his chest, he remembered. Finally, after a day filled with anxiety and panic, he could watch her shoulders relax, even if he wasn't exactly pleased with her lack of attention.

"Let's go!" Luffy shouted at them.

The witch stood up, wincing at the smallest movement of her arm, and that didn't go unnoticed by the swordsman.

She still avoided his question, he concluded. She said she'll care for the wound, not how it felt.

He tapped the hilt of his sword repeatedly and took a decision he didn't know if he'll regret later, following close behind her.

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yuri-is-online · 1 year

Text

When He Sees Me: Azul Ashengrotto

a/n: this is supposed to be part of a series about the boys who start out with a less than good opinion of Yuu falling in love with them anyway. Azul wasn't supposed to be first he was just the most cooperative. I will add a link to the rest when they become available, but it will take a while because this is really fucking long. Like 6,261 words long.

notes: SPOILERS FOR CH. 3 AND AZUL'S BACKSTORY. Azul is thirsty for Yuu, nothing explicit just mild mild spice. They/them pronouns used for Yuu, but there is a reference to things "girls find attractive" that isn't meant to be aimed at Yuu and discussion of the myth of Princess Kaguya. Morons in mutual denial/pining, references to the events of Azul's labwear and Ruggie's ceremonial robes vignette. Edit: other fics can be found on my masterlist here.

Azul has always been a dreamer, in both senses of the word. When he wants, he wants with intensity that borders on insanity, it is only natural for those thoughts to invade his dreams. When he was younger his subconscious would engage in a painful loop of equally impossible scenarios, sometimes positive but mostly extremely, horribly negative. They read more like memories being played on a sickening repeat, harassments and insults that he can’t run or hide from because his dream won’t let him move at all. Now that he’s older he seldom has those dreams, tucking the hurts away behind mountains of successful plans for the future. Tucked away but not dealt with, his overblot clearly proved that. Azul is no stranger to having dreams, no, but lately he has been experiencing something new. A dream that plays on repeat, never changing but with an underlying feel to it that makes him think if he just had a bit more imagination he could direct the flow. It is a memory, sort of like those other, painful dreams though this one doesn’t hurt quite the same, less painful and more… pining.

He’s standing in front of the photos at the Atlantica Memorial Museum, eyes steady on the photographs. “You have talent.” the Ramshackle prefect says with such enviable confidence. “You are amazing as it is, even without stealing anyone else’s powers.” He looks at them, he searches desperately for the lie, for so long he misses the timing for his line but the dream keeps playing yours. “You work so hard, determination is much harder to master than magic.”

“You think that?” he asks, begs really because in this dream he gets to wrap himself up and live in this moment where someone sees him as his subconscious plays your words on loop.

“You have talent… You are amazing… You matter…”

He rises from slumber, but doesn’t wake.

“Nyaaah who does Azul think he is!” Grim whines and you sigh, for what feels like the eight hundredth time but is probably just the third. “He can’t just scam us outta money like that!” You give a noncommittal grunt and Grim takes his grumbling to under his breath where it belongs while you ruminate on the morning’s events on your way back to Ramshackle. You had woken up to Azul knocking on your door with a photograph of Grim… fighting with Lucius? You weren’t entirely clear on the details, Grim stole some food or something you couldn’t really care less, but Professor Trien certainly would, which was the point Azul had made with a smile on his face and an outstretched hand. He needed a “small favor” he said, just follow him to Ignihyde and help him and Idia out with a project Idia was working on. He tried spinning it to you as helping out Ortho, which hey you did care about, let it not be said that the prefect of Ramshackle did not care about sweet little Ortho Shroud. You just… didn’t trust Azul as far as you could throw him, so when the part he asked Grim to retrieve was revealed to be worth a gajillion thaumarks you were not surprised and you did not care. Grim, of course, freaked out and the two older students laughed at him. Laughed at you both really, and sent you back to your dorm with a can of tuna for Grim’s trouble and a coupon to the Monstro Lounge for yours.

That you decided as you stared down at the little golden ticket, did piss you off. You were tempted to light it on fire, but that stupid part of your brain that got excited when you heard laundry detergent was on sale at Sam’s wouldn’t let you. Like you would offend and be permanently cursed by the gods of couponing if you did; so you tucked it away in your wallet and ran through the list of students you didn’t currently want to beat with a steel chair for someone who would actually use it. “Hey prefect, you got a moment?”

“Ruggie.” You snap out of your thoughts to see an angel standing outside Ramshackle’s door. He looks at you a little confused, but still peppy.

“That’s my name! Now as I was sayin, you got a moment? I’ve got an opportunity for you.”

~~~~

In a game of chess the player who moves first has an inherent advantage. That advantage, however, is not absolute which is something Azul is cruelly reminded of when RUGGIE BUCCHI waltzes into his restaurant, whistling, with his carefully played opening in his hands. “Hey, is this thing real? Prefect said you gave it to them but that sounds fishy. Why would Azul be giving out things for free?”

“That’s confidential.” he pushes up his glasses and Ruggie simply leans back on his heels, hands behind his head grinning like a well fed cat. “What I am anxious to know is why you have it? It was not meant for you.”

“What’s it to ya’?” he has enough sense to keep his annoying laugh to himself but it’s echoing in Azul’s ears anyway. His gaze flickers to Floyd, weighing the pros and cons of involving the twins in this… admittedly private affair but that seems to be enough for Ruggie. He drops the easy going act, “No seriously what is it you’re trying to do, they seemed seriously pissed.”

“Who says I’m trying to do anything?” Anger was… not the reaction he was expecting but the look on Ruggie’s face is making him feel especially like he should have. Like there was something incredibly obvious he was missing here. His sigh just punctuates that.

“Because you're Azul.” He says flatly. “Look it’s not my business and I don’t want it to be, are you gonna give me a free drink or not.” Azul takes the coupon with his best customer service smile and tries to make another plan.

~~~~

“You are amazing.” He gets to look at them this time, see their honest admiration. He wants to reach for it, hold it up to the light and admire it from every possible angle. His hand moves, agonizingly slow like he’s reaching through jelly, desperate for purchase as it lands on their cheek, running his thumb along the curve. Azul is a merfolk, utterly unaware of what it feels like to drown. But he surrenders himself to the tide as he guides them closer, closer, to him and the realization he never wants to let go.

Azul wakes up alone and upset, a good thirty minutes before his alarm which just adds to his frustrations. He fumbles for his glasses and goes for the safe next to his bed, if he’s awake he can work, he should work it will take his mind off of… whatever this is. It isn’t important, his bad dreams always fade away over time, he will conquer this, he has to. A notification lights up his phone. It’s from magicam, from Cater who he usually ignores but he opens it anyway. The post is a dump of short videos of Heartslabyul students messing around in the maze, there was an unbirthday party yesterday complete with pastries and those weird games he never understands the appeal of no matter how many times Riddle explains. There’s Trey posing like a middle aged man with his flamingo, Cater running around conducting mock interviews with the flowers, and a number of students making nonsensical toasts with admittedly nice looking china. And in the final video, if he pauses it at exactly 7.23 seconds there’s the prefect. They look clueless, disappointed even as they watch Grim demand he be allowed to play croquet, it’s cute but that’s not where his gaze goes. Tiramisu. It’s difficult, painful even to make, but they seem to be enjoying their slice. It really would be an excellent item to add to the Monstro Lounge’s limited time menu for numerous reasons completely unrelated to… whatever this feeling was. If he keeps the paused video up and next to his paperwork while he draws up his plans, no one needs to know.

~~~~

You wake up with a sneeze a good two hours before your alarm and if you were actually awake you have no doubt the timing would fill you with righteous fury. The moon still peaks through your window, soothing your hypothetical temper slightly as you meander out of your bed towards it. Ramshackle has always been a good place to watch the stars, at least according to Tsunotarou. You’ve always been more partial to the moon, there was something comforting about its constant presence. No matter where you went in your old world, even if the constellations changed the moon would always stay the same. If you focus on this one’s shape, if you ignore the snoring monster in your bed or the shape of the window you’re looking through, you can almost trick yourself into thinking that things are still the same. That you will get back to sleep and see your loved ones when you wake up tomorrow. A strange bile builds up in your throat and you turn away from the window towards your desk. The photographs that decorate it are filled with things that should be impossible. Leona standing on a flying broom somehow bored out of his mind, Jack and Deuce posing at a track practice, Ace trying to teach Grim a card trick, but if you were giving awards for the most out of place… There’s eight people in the photo, three humans, one monster, one beastman, and three merfolk, but only two sport tails. Azul looks exactly the same as the day you met him, dressed in a neatly pressed dorm uniform with that stupid hat covering his beautiful, perfect hair. You can’t decide what’s more unreal to you, the Leech twins' appearance or the location of the photograph, but well they sort of go hand in hand don’t they? Your eyes settle on Azul. He had refused to show his true form during the trip, if you didn’t know any better you would assume he was human like you but not like you. There’s something undeniably magical about him, beautiful even. He belongs there, in that photo under the sea, in this world. The moon illuminates the photo with her gaze, cold, distant, completely out of your reach but oh so very beautiful.

You take a deep, shuddering breath and try to throw away your thoughts.

~~~~

“Hench-human! Look at me look at me!” There are many days you feel like Grim’s parent as opposed to his… dorm leader? Classmate? Fellow traveler? Whatever you were actually supposed to be.

“I’m looking Grim, I promise!” You cheer him on, waving up at the monster who is happily flying above you on his little broom. “You’re doing great!” Coach Vargas had gone out of his way to find it for him so he could “train his muscles” with everyone else in flying class. It was cute, soothed the wound of not being able to participate yourself just a bit. The list of exercises Vargas handed you certainly didn’t.

“Slacking doesn’t build muscles!” You knew it was stupid to want to participate in a class that’s literal purpose was to teach students to channel magic, but it still sucked to be expected to do yoga in the corner of a field while Ace, Deuce, and now Grim get to zoom around above. At least you know Deuce isn’t making fun of you and will give you a ride if asked. “Hey while you’re at it would you mind keeping an eye on Azul? He’s supposed to be practicing over next to the bleachers.” You blink, stupidly at Vargas.

“I’m sorry?” Vargas points towards what is usually your exile corner and see- a sight. One you can immediately tell Azul would probably rather you never have ever seen. Your beautiful merman, rival? Acquaintance? Object of affection? Is pathetically hopping up and down with a stern look of determination on his face like he’s trying to negotiate with the broom rather than fly it. Your heart beats uncomfortably close to the front of your chest. Cold. Out of reach. And yet so blindingly pathetically beautiful you have to choke down bile as you make your way over to your little corner and begin clumsily stretching and keeping your gaze firmly on Grim out of habit. You hear rather than see him notice you.

“Prefect!” he splutters, chokes really and you have to physically bite your tongue to ground yourself enough to speak normally and completely lose it when you turn to face him. Azul’s winded, the tentacle waves of his hair are shimmering in the late afternoon sun with what’s probably sweat, but he doesn’t smell bad at all. His glasses are slanted and he’s clinging onto his broom so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

“Azul! Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” It comes out as a squeak and you break eye contact immediately. “I just-” you don’t want him to think you’re spying on him. “I usually-” well that just sounds like an excuse. “I can’t fly!” The smile on your face has got to look stupid but when you look at Azul he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he relaxes in both posture and expression.

“I can see that.” He smiles and his eyes shimmer for a brief second before reaching to push his glasses and his persona back into place. “Does Coach Vargas always have you exercise during flying class?”

“Pretty much.” You don’t feel like you should complain really, it would be a bit unfair on paper if you were the only one relaxing during a class filled with physical activity. “Crewel convinced him to let me do yoga because I ‘need to relax more’ or something like that.”

“Do you not find exercise relaxing?” It’s a relatively simple question but this is Azul asking so it feels like the start of a survey that ends with you agreeing to sign away your immortal soul. So naturally,

“Not when everyone can watch.” you answer as honestly as possible because according to the dark mirror you don’t have one anyway. If Azul notices your skepticism it doesn’t stop him from plowing on ahead.

“I can understand that.” He lets out what you think is his best performative sigh, hand over his heart in a manner you are sure even Vil would compliment as well crafted showmanship. “Really there’s no reason for this school to force us to participate in activities we simply aren’t meant for.” You have to swallow a giggle at his use of “we,” that earlier display must not have been a one time thing. Sure would be a shame if you asked Floyd about it, he definitely wouldn’t tell you embarrassing things about his best friend. “Do you not find the lounge relaxing?” He asks the question with the same tone as his previous monologue, but it catches you off guard. You had expected this line of questioning to go in a different direction. Maybe he wanted to know just how close you were to the staff and see if he could use you as an in, not a google review.

“It’s very relaxing.” You aren’t just trying to flatter him, though you won’t object if he decides to puff up with pride from your praise. “There really is- well I certainly haven’t ever seen another place like it, I just have other places I should be spending my money.”

“You know I can help with that right.” You must look extremely unamused because he deflates slightly but doesn’t falter. “The National Track and Field Meet is coming up relatively soon, and I’ve been making some… changes to the menu. It’s meant to appeal to a different clientele than we typically serve. As a human from a completely different world your perspective on such a switch could prove invaluable.” You stare at him, hard, trying to figure what angle he’s working and can’t really hit on one. Well beyond the obvious; he thinks this will make him money.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me to wait tables during the event?” Azul’s offered you work before, usually through Floyd dramatically arriving at Ramshackle unannounced to slack off in your guest room because “Azul will never find me here. Not if I close my eyes and hide behind little shrimpy.” But you weren’t too sure if that arrangement could apply to an event.

“I’ve already secured Ruggie’s assistance with that, but if you’re interested in a paid position Jade will certainly need some help in the kitchens, well assuming you’re better at washing dishes than Grim.” You both have a bit of a laugh, though yours is significantly less mean spirited. “I can give you more details about the menu tomorrow night, assuming you are free.”

“I suppose I could find some time.” you give your best impression of Azul’s own shrug and hope he isn't too insulted. “Any fine print I should be concerned about before I completely agree to this?” He pauses, you are tempted to say because he didn’t expect to make it this far, but realistically he’s probably just trying to pick out what part of his plan is safe to tell you.

“The waitstaff will all be wearing their ceremonial robes as a special uniform for the event, but since you would just be washing dishes I would recommend-”

“I’m sorry, do you mean those things everyone was wearing at orientation?” You don’t mean to interrupt him, really you’re just confused. “The Octavinelle dorm uniform looks just fine.”

“I’m pleased you like them.” He means it, you can tell by how he stands just a little bit taller, stopping your heart for what you tell yourself is the briefest of seconds. “Our school's ceremonial robes are extremely popular with the local girls, so I am hoping they will draw more outside attention to the lounge.”

“The ceremonial robes? Seriously?” Not that you could ever have been considered an authority on what types of menswear was objectively attractive but you were a person with preferences and the ceremonial robes looked a bit difficult to take off. Not that you have thought extensively about them or anything else you’ve seen Azul wear.

“Do you not find them attractive prefect?” The fact Azul’s asking you seriously, with a touch of distress doesn’t register until you’ve inelegantly vomited up your response.

“Not really. I mean from what I remember from orientation you looked good in them but I can’t say I like them better than your dorm uniform. You even make the stupid hat work.” You physically bite down on your tongue to keep from saying anything else incriminating but the damage is already done. The poor man looks like a boiled octopus, red from the tip of his ears to the point of his nose. “Azul?” He coughs into his hand.

“Well, disagreements about fashion aside, I take it we have a deal?”

“Sure. Just send me a message on magicam when you need me and I’ll be there.”

~~~~

The location flickers in his peripheral vision, his focus wholly consumed by them. He’s never touched them like this, they’d never let him hold them like this but those thoughts fizzle in the face of your memory. “You are amazing.” He kisses them slowly as he gently cradles their face. Closer, he wants them closer but tauntingly, agonizingly they pull away as the scene settles. He’s on land, in the vip room of the lounge arms wrapped tightly around their waist while they’re sitting in his lap. Closer they’re not close enough to him they can still move away, but they show no sign of leaving. They just stare down at him, into him seeing him for who he is and not flinching at the sight. Closer. They lean back into his kiss and he pulls, surprisingly strong, into a tighter embrace. Closer. In dreams you don’t need to breathe, he’s free to move his hand behind their head and maneuver them down. Closer. He pins their hand next to their head, intertwining their fingers. Closer. “You look good, you look beautiful.” He shudders into them, and-

Wakes up dry heaving into his pillows with a scream. He’s panting, desperately trying to convince himself it’s out of disgust but he knows that’s not the case. Azul’s known for a while now just how he feels about them, he finds it ugly. Not them, sevens never them, he doubts he could ever truly find them as insignificant as he did before losing his contracts ever again. He untangles himself from his sheets and reaches for his glasses and phone, searching for the picture they’d taken at the museum. They look so happy, in awe even, and if he wants to lie to himself he can pretend that’s his doing and not the allure of the sea working its magic on yet another human. But Azul is a merfolk, he may admire the sea witch but he knows the tale of the mermaid princess just as well. The love between her and her prince was always portrayed as pure, innocent, devoid of things like thirst and greed. That’s the sort of love he thinks they deserve, the kind that’s not burdened by insecurities or possessiveness. Who would love someone who constantly lies?

“You are amazing as it is, even without stealing anyone else’s powers. You work so hard, determination is much harder to master than magic.”

If he closes his eyes he can still see your face as you say it. You meant every word, he knows you did. Even now you don’t really treat him all that differently than you do your other friends, his efforts are appreciated and respected according to the work he puts into them just like he’s always wanted. A wry smile works his way to his lips. How poor and unfortunate he is.

~~~~

“When you need me” came sooner than you expected. As soon as you made it back to Ramshackle you had two messages from Azul, one letting you know it was him and the other saying he had a space available for you to buss tables tomorrow if you were still available.

“I haven’t forgotten about my original request, once closing tasks are complete you can expect a truly unique reward.”

He texts like he speaks, professionally. If you didn’t know he was still a student you’d assume he was twice his actual age and already established in an office somewhere. Part of that was true you supposed, he did own the Lounge and was probably texting from his office.

“(* ^ ω ^) I’ll make sure to be on time!”

“Hench-human.” You look up from your phone to see Grim sitting on his favorite armchair, he sounds deathly serious and his face is bent into a look of disappointment he usually only reserves for Ace. He’s even crossing his arms like a disappointed parent. “We need to talk.”

“Did you puke on the bed again?”

“No!” He drops the act for a brief second before remembering he’s supposed to be “the one in charge” or something like that. “But if you keep gigglin’ like that I’m gonna!”

“Like what?” you attempt to mimic his energy by folding your hands across your chest.

“Like you got a crush on that stupid octopus.”

“Oh.” Oh. You hadn’t really thought much about that. On purpose really. “Well you don’t have to do that.” You had thought many things about Azul, felt a lot of things too. Frustration, no one got to treat your friends that badly and then laugh about it. Disappointment, someone so talented shouldn’t be wasting his time bullying others to feel better about himself. He should be secure in his own successes. Pity, but then again how else could he be expected to feel with his childhood having been what it was? Anger, that made his actions all the more inexcusable, you didn’t really regret putting him in his place even if the method was… less than ideal. Awe, you were aware most of your friends were still stuck firmly in anger. Sure, Ace and Deuce didn’t have much of a problem buying things from the Lounge or using their point cards, but there still was a bit of a sting to the whole arrangement. Grim might not have been capable of much but he could hold a grudge. Especially when someone hurt you, it was exceptionally sweet. You however…

It started with his overblot form. Floyd never should have told you that’s what he actually looked like, you swear you forgot how to breathe for a solid minute. Azul was beautiful, ethereal, and awe inspiring. You didn’t even mind that he was actively trying to choke you with his tentacles, you were that tempted to let him. Once he came to and came back to his human form, you were forced to swallow those feelings. Tuck them away in the hopes that Azul would go back to being that distant pretty face he had been since he ran down Grim at orientation. You told yourself you were content being friends with Riddle and the Heartslabyul gang, you didn’t need the acceptance of other dorms.

But he hadn’t. The trip to the museum apparently made the twins decide you were a friend; Floyd would follow you around when he got bored and demand you play with him, and if Jade had your schedule memorized no he didn’t prefect him ambushing you with an invitation to check out his club was completely coincidental. Azul remained distant, only ever really approaching when he needed something or to make an offer. It hurt that small part of themselves they’d been beating away with a stick, it hurt even worse when he reached out harder when they ignored him. This world’s already hurt you enough, you don’t need to be pining over an emotionally unavailable guy who viewed everything in the world through material value.

“Mmmmm.” Grim’s staring at you, clearly unconvinced and trying to not come off as worried.

“Really Grim. I promise, no kissing fish for me.” your phone pings and you see another message, from Floyd this time, and swipe to unlock just as the front door of Ramshackle nearly cracks off its hinges to announce his arrival.

“Shriiiiiiimpy, I’m so bored and Azul’s makin me work.” A loud obviously fake whine rings through the foyer and you sigh.

Looks like you will be seeing Azul a bit sooner than expected.

~~~~

The lounge is chaos by the time you sprint through the mirrors into Octavinelle. You scan the lounge frantically for Jade and settle on his retreating form heading towards the back office. It would be undignified to sprint towards him so you force yourself to speed walk through the waves of customers towards Floyd’s usual section. Another first year, one that actually belongs in this dorm, is floundering around trying to figure out why he’s even alive and nearly jumps out of his skin when you tap him on the shoulder. “Sorry I’m late, can you let Azul know I’m here?” He abandons you faster than a sinking ship and you barely resist the urge to scream at him to show a little gratitude. The Monstro Lounge is a “gentleman's establishment.” It doesn’t employ howler monkeys, but it sure does serve them. You snap your best customer service smile into place and glide over to one such cherished customer whose glare is threatening to freeze you to the floor. “I’m sorry about the wait, how can I serve you today?”

Meanwhile, back at the office, Azul is attempting to convince himself that he isn’t mad. Really, he’s just disappointed and really how could he be that when Floyd has been such a cherished friend for so long and-

“Oya, Azul, you’re starting to resemble a boiled octopus, are you sure this hasn’t complicated your plans at all?” Jade is usually, key word being usually, just as inconvenienced by his brother’s mood swings as anyone else. But this time, this time, Azul thinks while his left eye threatens to spasm out of its socket, he has a slight feeling that Jade might have encouraged this one. He’s smiling way too wide.

“Nonsense, I always have back up-” Jade doesn’t let him finish his thought.

“Ah but we can’t just go calling the prefect for this can we? Not when things aren’t perfect yet.”

“Just what are you getting out of this?” He really shouldn’t have to beg, Jade seems surprised he’s even trying.

“Maybe I’m just a bit better at reading things than you are.” And before Azul can try strangling Jade for that comment one of his students bursts into the back room panting as if he’d just run a marathon.

“Dorm leader! The prefect came over to take Floyd’s section. Said to let you know they were here.” He doesn’t respond immediately, he can see his plans going up in dust around him while Jade laughs beside him.

“There you see, Azul? No need to worry.” And as if the night couldn’t get any worse that damn moray bows to whisper in his ear. “They came for you after all.”

It really is a good night for unagi.

~~~~

The walk back to Ramshackle is quiet. If you just keep your eyes on the path in front of you, the only thing you can hear is the chirp of an occasional cricket. The sigh of an owl. And of course the light click of the footsteps beside you, if you were extra quiet, you could maybe even hear Azul breathing. It’s soft, if you could bring yourself to look at him maybe you would see that he’s just as nervous about this as you are.

Not that “this” is anything special really. You’ve worked closing shifts at the lounge before, and someone always walks you back. Usually it’s Grim, he never actually helps with the work but he’s more than happy to show up at the end and claim some share of the reward for shepherding you home. But this time the little weasel had decided not to show and, for some reason, Azul had asked to accompany you. “For my sanity if nothing else.” You hadn’t been able to speak since hearing that for fear your heart would leap right out of your mouth, you aren’t even entirely certain how you managed to nod an approval. Not that Azul’s been much better, he hasn’t made eye contact with you since you started the walk back. Or spoken. You’d almost think he’s annoyed, or angry, if not for how the closer you get to your dorm the slower his steps get. Maybe he doesn’t want things to end so soon either…

“The moon is beautiful tonight.” He breaks his silence with a sigh and you choke slightly, eyes darting towards him warily even though you know for a fact that phrase doesn’t hold the same meaning here.

“Ramshackle always has a great view of the night sky.” you look up at the moon to avoid Azul’s quizzical gaze. “It looks almost exactly like the moon in my world.”

“You enjoy watching it then, I take it?” You don’t answer immediately, the question swirling up a myriad of contracting emotions and answers.

“Sometimes.” You settle on a thought, haphazard as it feels. “It’s funny, the longer I look at it the more it makes me think about a story I used to really like.”

“Used to?” You don’t have to look at Azul to know he’s doing the thing he always does while probing for information. Yet you do anyway, the little unnecessary push he gives to his glasses is too cute.

“It just feels a bit too close to home now.” It feels silly to say that, but then again, this is Azul. He could also technically be considered to be from another world, so maybe he’d understand. “There’s this bamboo cutter who finds a baby in one of the bamboo stalks he cuts and raises her as his daughter. There’s always something just a bit off about her, when there’s a full moon out she stares at it and cries a whole lot, like there’s something up there she misses. She’s extremely beautiful though so everyone kind of brushes that off, and after finding her the bamboo cutter starts finding gold in every bamboo stalk he cuts.”

“That’s unrealistic.” scoffs Azul. “There has to be a catch.” You can’t help but laugh, of course this is where he’d choose to interrupt.

“It’s a story, Azul. And besides you literally live in a world where magic exists calm down.” He snorts and you quickly start talking before he can begin his protests. “Anyway he starts finding gold inside the bamboo and becomes wealthy enough to be considered important. His daughter grows up to be an otherworldly beautiful woman and gets a bunch of attention from all over the country, people call her a princess. She’s so popular the emperor himself comes to see her and they get to talking. The two of them find they have a lot in common, so when the emperor proposes he’s sure she’ll say yes.” Azul’s smart, you’re pretty sure he’s figured out the plot twist already by the way he’s set his jaw, but he makes no attempt to stop you. Almost like he’s hoping you will prove him wrong. “But she doesn’t. She says she can’t marry him because she isn’t from his country and can’t be his queen. He’s heartbroken but the princess agrees to keep in touch so he thinks that maybe he could one day have a chance, but then the princess’s strange behavior’s start getting more erratic. She starts spending every night outside looking at the moon, and when her father finally asks her why she tells him a secret. That she is from the moon, and that soon she’s going to have to return.” You look back at Azul, expecting his eyes to be on the moon only to find them centered pointedly on you. It’s a heavy gaze, suffocating almost.

“I can’t imagine the emperor was accepting of that.” He’s trying to make a joke, at least you think. The words fall sort of flat.

“When the princess tells him that, he tries to send soldiers to her house. To prevent the moon from taking her back. But it doesn’t work, when the time comes for her to return everyone in the house falls into a deep sleep while the princess is swept up by the moon people.” You both stand in silence for a moment before you think to add. “That’s not really why I started disliking it though. There’s- when she goes back to the moon they wrap her up in this cloak that makes her forget everyone she met on earth.”

“Do you think that’s what will happen to you?” There’s an emotion in his voice you can’t quite place. If you had to describe it you’d say he was teetering on the edge of desperation, over what you can’t quite tell. “Do you want that to happen to you?”

“No!” You surprise yourself with how forcefully you shout. “I don’t think the lady from the moon did either. Pretty much every version of the story I ever read really made it seem like she wanted to stay, but-”

“Why didn’t the emperor go himself?” He’s getting closer to the edge, similar to how he sounded when his contracts got turned to dust but thankfully not yet that desperate. “If he was in love, why didn’t he demand they stay?” And that aura from flying class is back; he’s talking but he isn’t saying what he means but this time you think-

The way he looks at you has changed. Azul’s smiles have started reaching his eyes, you belatedly foolishly realize, and now his carefully concealed doubts have too. “Maybe he was afraid.” you don’t have to phrase it as a question, there’s no real question about what’s keeping you both silent here. He flinches, trying desperately to steady himself. You take a deep, shuddering breath as Azul squares his shoulders and steps closer to you. “That they wanted to leave all along and he couldn’t bring himself to deny them.” Closer. “Maybe he thought somethings were more important than taking a risk on someone from another world.” Closer. Not quite yet as close as he could be but firmly within reach, but he doesn’t dare move any more.

“He’s a better man than me.” It’s a warning, or at least it should register as one. Make you reconsider the smile that escapes your lips and settles firmly into his poor unfortunate heart. “I don’t think I could let such a rare person go if they shone so clearly against the night sky.” You want to laugh. Really you do but you’re too busy reveling in the newfound light in his eyes to do anything other than choke back a sob.

“Then I guess you’re lucky I’m not from the moon.” And finally, finally, finally you move to close the gap so you’re standing chest to chest under the light of the moon, warming the cold beat of his heart into something far less shallow. Finally, finally he sees you, and knows he doesn’t have to look away.

*Jade encouraged Floyd to ditch so Azul wouldn't be in control of the conversation. Partially to mess with him and partially because I think someone as obsessed with perfection as Azul should be forced to realize love isn't something you can plan every aspect of and I think Jade would agree with me because I am the author and I say so.

**In the original translation I read everyone is blinded by a light. I changed this for correlation to chapter 7.

#twst x reader #twst x yuu #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul x yuu #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu

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pray4saint · 10 months

Note

You should do headcanons for dteam and Chuckle sammy for what kind of hugs they give </3 thats such a good idea

types of hugs the dteam & chuckle sammy boys give their partners

dteam masterlist & chuckle sammy masterlist & descrip. pg. 13+. gn!reader. fluff.

a/n. thank you for indulging me anon

dream

number one hug type with this man, full embraces. / arms completely holding each other, heads linked around the other's neck

unironic bro hugs, i fully believe this guy will walk up to you and bro hug you out of nowhere

all for hugs like this; his hands on your hips, your hands on his shoulders, foreheads and chests pressed together, whispering sweet nothings to each other

”you know, you're really beautiful from this angle.” you laugh a little bit, looking into his eyes while. ”babe,” you smile at your boyfriend. ”you look a zero point five.” he makes a kind of silly face at you, ”i was thinking more of a fish eye.”

also hugs where you scratch his head >>> / he absolutely lives for it, pressing kisses to your hand when you try to pull it away from his hair

sapnap

straddle hugs with this man, i guarantee it happens / regardless of who's on top, he likes being so close to you, especially if there's people around, it shows off who he belongs who and who you belong to

i also think sap is big on reverse hugs, where he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, kissing into your neck and along your shoulders, especially if you're in the middle of something

equally as much if you come up behind him, snuggling your head into his shoulder blades before spinning him around to properly hold you

also when he travels, hugs after he's been gone for awhile, he loves them, how you try to get yourself impossibly closer to him

”i missed you so much.” your arms squeeze harder around his neck, drawing him closer if at all possible. ”i know darlin',” he squeezes your middle, rubbing your lower back. ”i missed you too doll.”

george

in public, george really only does side hugs with you, it's not that he doesn't love you, he just gets nervous in public, but he will hold your hand the rest of the time

i think george though likes hugs where you kind of baby him, with your arms around his middle and his arms rest around your neck, tucking his head snuggly into the crook of your neck

”are you alright hon?” you ask him, lifting a hand from his waist to his hair, gently scratching at his head. ”yeah. i just missed you.”

i also think he kind of avoids group hugs if you're in them, he really prefers having you in his arms alone, with nobody to bother you

also being wrapped up in each other's arms on the sofas in his or your living rooms, with your head lying against his shoulder or his stomach while you draw shapes into his arms or his chest and his hand runs through your hair and along your back, talking about random things

ted

ted + quick hugs, i think he likes to hug you hello and goodbye with every interaction, he just loves being so close to you

definitely big on what we'd consider 'normal hugs', because sometimes he just wants the hug to take in how you smell, to remind him that you're real

ted takes a deep breath in, holding you close to him. you settle in his arms, putting your arms around him to reciprocate the hug. ”you alright babe?” ”i am now.”

eye-to-eye hugs with ted are regular, whether it be standing to sitting down, the eye contact is special when combined with the hold you have on each other

slow dance hugs in the kitchen >>>> / while you wait for the food to heat up, you slow dance around the kitchen with ted, keeping your hug intact

charlie

bear hugs, i absolutely believe he squeezes tight when he hugs you, savouring every intimate second of it

”ch– charlie,” you tap his shoulder, ”can barely breathe.” ”just another second, please.” he kissed your neck before releasing his tight hold. ”thank you baby.” ”no, thank you for putting up with me, i know i can be a bit much sometimes.”

THE PICKPOCKET HUG THE PICKPOCKET HUG GUYS / keeping your hand in his back pocket while his hand rests in your back pocket, especially in public?? he loves it

hugs lying in bed with you completely on top of him, his arms around you while you rest your head against his chest, it's intimate and mostly takes place in the morning after you wake up, right before you go to bed or just after certain activities

i also think dance hugs happen a lot, sometimes it's slow dance but other times you're just dancing around while holding each other

schlatt

the type to fully envelop you in his arms, keeping your head tucked into his chest with your hands against his chest

other hugs include side hugs with his arm draped over your shoulders, hand interlinked with yours

OH schlatt and lifted hugs, where you jump up and wrap your legs around him for a hug, he loves that

also schlatt seems like the type to paw at your arm when he wants a hug in public, sending you looks that aren't easily discernible until you finally turn around and run your hands up and down his arms before wrapping yourself around his middle

”y'know if you wanted a hug big guy, you could've just asked,” you looked up at him, he scoffed with a smile. ”yeah i know.” he wraps his arms around you.

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avastrasposts · 7 months

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 35**

I wrote this while on holiday so any mistakes I blame on sun stroke and cocktails! This is the second to last chapter! I'm not ready! Chapter 36 will be the last chapter and then I've got an epilogue planned. How will I say good bye to these two!? Please enjoy what's left 😭

Series Master List

Chapter 36- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.4k

The night passes quietly, and you watch the sunrise over the eastern horizon across the river while Frankie sleeps in the tent with baby Jack. As the sun starts to warm up the cool prairie air, you make some breakfast, dreaming of the days you could have coffee, and hear Frankie stir as Jack begins to cry. You listen to your husband soothe him, and with a pang of longing you wonder if Frankie makes the same soft cooing sounds for Jack as he did for Lucía. Frankie had told you years ago that he’d been petrified when Lucia was born, he’d been in such a bad state and not able to enjoy having a baby girl. But he’d grown into such an incredible dad by the time you met him, it was hard to imagine him being anything but a proud doting father.

The zipper of the tent slides open and Frankie crawls out, Jack held tight to his chest with one hand. The boy is staring up at Frankie’s beard and as you watch, Frankie carefully gets to his feet and smiles at Jack, dipping his chin low enough so that one chubby little hand can come up and grab at the scruffy hair.

“Ouch, you little scoundrel,” Frankie chuckles, “you’ve got some grip in those tiny hands.”

You smile and hand Frankie a bowl of ravioli as he gently sinks down next to you, “Careful, he’ll give you another bald patch,” you tease and Frankie rolls his eyes at Jack.

“Listen to her, going after my poor beard now, as if she doesn’t love my bald patches.”

“True, I do love them,” you lean forward and press your lips to the one on his right jaw, “pull harder, Jack.”

The baby gurgles happily in Frankie's lap, reaching up for the beard again.

“I’ve prepared some food for him too, I cut up the ravioli,” you pick up the bowl, “do you want me to feed him while you eat?”

“No, I’ll do it, if you wanna pack up the tent?”

“Sure, I’ll pack up,” you give the bowl to Frankie and you can’t help but smile as he takes it, barely looking at you as Jack grabs his finger and blows a spit bubble. In all your years with Frankie, in an increasingly hard environment, you’d never have guessed that a little foundling baby would be the thing that made your husband melt into a puddle.

As you take down the tent and roll up the sleeping bags you listen to Frankie talk to Jack, an endless stream of baby nonsense. When the baby swallows the last bite of food, Frankie praises him, gently wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. As you put Frankie’s pack next to him, he wraps Jack into the makeshift kangaroo pouch and ties it around his chest.

“I’ll take him, since you carried him all day yesterday, rest your shoulders today, cariño,” he says, adjusting Jack’s legs.

“Are you sure? You’ve got a pretty heavy pack,” you say, slipping one of Frankie’s socks onto Jack’s head to protect him from the sun.

“Yeah, if you take the rifle today it’ll be fine.”

…

The three of you keep walking west, the endless prairie slowly giving way to more hills and trees. Far off in the distance you can see the high peaks of the Rocky Mountains, impossibly high in the clear air. At the end of another long day of walking you’ve climbed up, away from the prairie and into low hills that slowly stretch up towards the high mountain range to the west. While you rested at midday you’d actually managed to run down some sort of chicken, it looked fairly domesticated and Frankie guessed that chickens must’ve escaped from farms after the outbreak and multiplied. Whatever it was, you managed to wring its neck without getting too squeamish and hang it from your backpack.

You feel like you’ve crossed all of Wyoming on foot when the sun finally starts dropping and nothing worth noting has crossed your path since you left the pick up, no infected, no people, only animals in the distance. The farms and houses you’ve passed have been empty and mostly looted, people have passed through here before you but it’s impossible to know when. You realize finding Jack’s uncle will be like finding a needle in a haystack, if the group he was with even got as far as Wyoming, it seems unlikely you’ll meet anyone out here and maybe that’s for the best..

At sundown you make camp a mile from the road you’ve been following. It’s far enough away from anything that Frankie risks a campfire and grills the bird you’d caught whole. Even Jack can eat the tender meat when you cut it up and he even seems to enjoy it.

“I’ve been looking at the map,” Frankie says, bringing it over to the campfire so that you can see, “and I’ve got a couple of options, tell me what you think.”

You lean into him as he spreads the map out onto the ground in front of you. “There's a place up here, about five miles from the road.” He points to a spot on the map, “It’s got a small river running next to it, the mountain on one side and this open valley on the other side. It’s marked as a private ranch on the map key. It could be what we need. But there’s another place,” he moves his finger and points to a place much further north, “it’s another twenty miles into the mountains, up this valley that we’re in.”

“I’m guessing there’s a good reason why you want to walk another twenty miles?” you say, looking at the long stretch of land that lies between you and the spot Frankie’s fingers is resting on.

“Yeah, this place is a small hydroelectric dam. If we get there I could probably get it up and running and we’d have actual electricity, heating, hot water.” He looks up at you with an excited smile, “I was thinking about it today, even if it doesn’t work now, I could fix it somehow and the place is so remote, it’s bound to have all the equipment needed on site. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s only another half days' walk, with a potentially huge reward.”

You look at the dam location, tucked away at the river mouth, a few miles from the main road. Plenty of fish in the lake probably, and open land full of game, provided you’d be able to craft something to hunt with.

“It looks like a better location than the ranch, but probably a bigger risk of infected, if the people who worked there didn’t get away.”

“Yeah, that’s the main drawback,” Frankie says, “we’d have to be very careful clearing it out.” He’s tapping the map thoughtfully before he looks up at you. “It’s up to you completely, if you don’t want to risk it, we go with the ranch, live settler style. Maybe that is the better option, safer for now at least.”

“The dam could attract other people too, if they have the same idea as you,” you say and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, there’s always the risk of other people too, although, so far Wyoming seems pretty empty to be honest.” He folds up the map, “We’ll sleep on it, see how we feel tomorrow, we could just go check out the ranch first, it’s almost on the way.”

Behind you Jack shifts and begins to cry and you pick him up, tucking him into your arms.

“I’ll set up the tent and take the first watch, cariño, see if you can get him to go back to sleep.”

“He’s usually asleep by now, maybe he got a tummy ache from the food,” you stand up and start rocking him the way you used to rock your nieces when they were babies. The thought makes you wince, over the years you’ve come to terms with all the people you lost when the outbreak happened, your parents, siblings, friends. But sometimes, when you do something that reminds you of them, it’s like touching a piece of glass inside your chest and the cut is fresh. Gently bouncing on your feet you try to remember how old they’d be by now but you get stuck, in your mind they’re forever little girls, just slightly older than Lucía.

Jack just won’t settle, his cries cut through the still night, no matter how much you and Frankie try to soothe him. Even Frankie’s beard goes untouched, the tiny fists clenched hard as Jack wails in Frankie’s arms. It feels like he cries for hours, sleeping is out of the question, you can’t shut your ears to Jack’s crying and you’re starting to worry that anyone or anything in the vicinity will hear and come to investigate.

“Give him to me,” Frankie suddenly says, handing you the rifle, “I had an idea, my abuela once told me I had tummy aches as a baby every time I’d eaten and she’d hang me over her shoulder.” He gently takes Jack from you and hangs him, belly down, over his shoulder. His large hand holds Jack steady as he gently begins to rock on his feet and you walk around his back so that you can see Jack’s face. He’s still crying but as Frankie moves back and forth he seems to calm down a little.

“Keep going, I think it’s working,” you say and Frankie starts walking circles around the fireplace while you keep watch around the campsite. There’s a new moon in the clear sky and you look up at the thin sliver and all the bright stars. You’ll never get over how bright they really are once you’re out in the countryside. When the world came crashing down it took a long time before you had the peace of mind to sit in the dark and look at the sky. It wasn’t really until you were out on the boat, sailing from New York, that you’d noticed them again. Now you search out familiar constellations and find the North Star. Behind you Jack is finally quiet, you can hear Frankie gently humming a lullaby you don’t recognize.

“Arroz con leche me quiero casar, con una señorita de Portugal….” and he hums a few notes, the words forgotten, before you hear him sing again, “Con esta sí, con esta no, con esta señorita me caso yo.”

You turn and smile at him and you hear a branch snap behind you, fear shooting through your veins like ice. Your heart drops into your stomach as you swing round, raising your rifle towards the sound, you suddenly see several shadows moving in the corner of your eyes. You hear Frankie rush up behind you, his back against yours as he turns and scans the dark forest.

“Lower your guns, there’s more of us than you,” comes a man’s voice from in front of you as several people step into the light of the campfire, guns raised. You can see at least five of them, and from the footsteps behind you, at least another five you can’t see.

“Lower your gun, cariño,” Frankie says, his voice low, “and take Jack.”

You give Frankie a scared look as you lay your rifle on the ground and take the baby from him, tucking him into your arms, one hand protectively cradled over his head. Frankie raises one hand and slowly pulls his gun from the back of his pants with the other, laying it down on the ground.

“Step away from her, five steps back,” the man barks, jerking his head at Frankie.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Frankie says, “We’re just passing through, the baby was ill.”

“Step back,” the man snaps, taking a step forward and raising his gun, aiming at Frankie. You look over your shoulder at Frankie, he gives you a small nod.

“It’ll be fine,” he says, slowly backing away from you.

“Have you been around any infected?” the man asks and behind him you see a woman stepping forward, a German Shepard on a leash.

“We haven’t seen anyone since we left Nebraska,” Frankie says, “no people or infected.”

“If you’re lying the dog will sniff it out and rip you to shreds,” the man keeps his rifle on Frankie and nods to the woman to unclip the dog. It growls and runs over first to you and sniffs around your legs before padding over to Frankie and doing the same. Satisfied that neither of you are infected, the woman whistles the dog back..

“We’re looking for a man named Jack,” you say, before the man with the rifle has a chance to decide what to do next, “We found his sister in Nebraska, she’d escaped from slavers with her baby boy,” you nod down at baby Jack in your arms. “She was dying and asked us to find her brother and bring her son to him.”

You see how the woman with the dog and the man exchange a look, a blink of recognition, before the woman speaks up.

“The woman, her name was Julia?” she asks and both you and Frankie nod.

“Yes!” you exclaim, “Do you know her?”

The man with the rifle holds up his hand but the woman answers anyway, “Did she say what Jacks’ last name was?”

“No...” you hesitate, “she only said the boy’s name is Jack Connolly and that he was named after her brother. He was heading to Wyoming with a group of people.”

“We were heading for White River,” the woman replies, “Jack, his last name was Connolly too, was with us until two months ago. I’m sorry, but he died.”

“We didn’t know him,” Frankie says, “and we didn’t know Julia either, but I’m sorry to hear he died. It would’ve been nice to bring baby Jack to his family.”

“Juan,” the man with the rifle says, looking at a man somewhere in the tree line, “don’t let them move, I need to talk to Maria.” He motions to the woman with the dog to follow him back into the trees, out of earshot. You glance over at Frankie who’s still standing five steps away from you and he gives you a small smile, but you can see the concern in his eyes.

You look back down at baby Jack, sleeping in your arms now. You had been thinking about the possibility of not finding his uncle, and then you and Frankie would have to take care of him, but it had been a vague ‘what if?’. Having a child of your own with Frankie had never been an option ever since the outbreak, not even in the relative safety of Arlington or Boston. But taking care of an orphan child who really has no one else, that seemed like a very easy decision to make when you were faced with it. But Jack was never yours, you were only taking care of him until you found his family. But now? If his uncle was gone, you felt responsible for him, for the promise you’d made to his mother. Looking down at him, you couldn’t help reflecting over how strange it felt to suddenly be an adoptive parent of this little boy.

The man and the woman called Maria come back through the trees and wave Frankie and you over.

“Alright, I’m Patrick, this is Maria. Sorry about the curt welcome committee, we can’t be too careful about people out here.”

“Yeah, we get that,” Frankie says, taking Patrick’s outstretched hand. “I’m Frankie and this is my wife.”

You shake Patrick’s hand and then Maria’s, giving them your name.

“You seem like decent people, and you have Jack’s nephew to care for, so we’d like to give you two options,” Maria says, looking between the two of you, “We have a settlement not too far from here, you’re welcome to come with us and seek shelter. We’ll have to confiscate your guns until we know we can trust you and we’ll expect you to help out with whatever you can. If you don’t like it, you’ll be free to leave whenever you want.” She looks at you and then down at Jack sleeping in your arms, “But I think that once you see how the community works, that you’ll be able to keep baby Jack safe, you’ll want to stay,” she smiles at the little boy, as he stirs in his sleep, his little hand waving free from the blanket. “He actually looks like his uncle, does he have blue eyes too?”

“Yeah, he does, big blue eyes,” you smile, looking at Jack and tucking in his arm again.

“So what do you think?” Patrick asks and you glance over at Frankie, it sounds almost too good to be true, but if this is the group Jack’s mother wanted you to seek out with her son then maybe it’s worth a shot.

“What’s the second option?” Frankie asks.

“We leave you to fend for yourself out here, no hard feelings. But we would prefer it if you came with us. Every person we leave out here is a potential infected down the line.”

“But we’d really like you to come to Jackson with us, especially seeing as you have the baby. Jack was a good man and we’d like to make sure his nephew is safe,” Patrick says and from the corner of your eye you see several of the other people nod.

“Can I talk to my wife in private for a minute?” Frankie says and Maria nods and steps back a little with Patrick. Frankie takes your hand and you walk to the other side of the fire.

“What do you think, cariño?” he asks in a low voice, his fingers threading between yours.

“I think it might be worth the risk to trust them,” you say, “They seem genuine.”

Frankie nods, “I think it might be our best chance at getting to a safe place, even if our plan was to get somewhere safe just you and me.”

“But with baby Jack, we could really need a community, it’s not just you and me,” you say, stroking your hand over the baby’s head. It’s only been a few days but you’re already feeling very protective of him.

“Yeah, and about him, with his uncle dead, I guess it’s on you and me to take care of him? Are we gonna be his parents?” Frankie looks down at Jack, you can see his eyes soften as gently caresses the rosy cheek with his finger.

“It’s not how I imagined this ending but I don’t think I could give him up now, could you? I feel responsible for him after what we promised his mother.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking the same,” Frankie says, looking back up at you, “So I guess we’re parents now and we go with Maria and Patrick? At least to check it out? Hopefully they meant what they said about us leaving if we don’t want to stay, but I think we can risk it?”

You nod and together you walk back to others.

“Alright,” Frankie says, “We’ll hand over our guns and come with you. We feel responsible for baby Jack and it seems you might be the option to keep him safe.”

Maria nods, “I’m happy you think that, I hope you’ll wanna stay with us once you see what we’re building.�� She turns and waves forward a younger man, “Ned, get Winston please, if you can ride with Nellie on the way back these two can ride him with the baby. She turns back to you, “Winston is a very steady and gentle horse, he’ll keep you safe on the ride back.”

The horses had been left out of earshot of the camp and you’re delighted to see a small herd of them once you’ve packed up. Winston turns out to be a large bay horse who lets you reach up and stroke his soft nose while he nickers gently. Frankie swings himself into the saddle with ease and a happy look, giving the horse a pat on the neck. You hand Jack to him and Maria helps you hang your packs on the side of the saddle before you get on behind Frankie.

“All these years, Frankie,” you smile as the group sets out, “and I never knew you were such a cowboy.” You’ve got your arms around his waist, Jack is safely tucked into the makeshift pouch on his chest.

“My uncle had horses,” he says, “and he taught me how to ride, just haven’t done it in years, but it’s like riding a bike.” He clicks his tongue and Winston sets off, following Maria and Patrick’s horses. “How about you, are you ok back there?” he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m ok,” you bury your nose in his soft shirt, holding on to him, “I was never a great rider but I know how to stay on at least.”

“Just hang on to me, cariño, Winston and me won’t let you fall.”

The ride back to the group's camp only takes a couple of hours, Maria and Patrick leading the way cross country rather than following the road. The sky lightens and Maria rides up next to you and points down a hill towards a large lake.

“That’s Jackson,” she says, “and that’s the dam we’re trying to get fixed. If we manage we’ll have electricity.”

“That’s the dam we saw on the map, cariño,” Frankie says, “We were thinking about coming here and seeing if it was fixable.”

“Do you know anything about how hydroelectric dams work?” Maria asks, raising her eyebrows at Frankie and he shakes his head.

“No, not really, not more than the theory of it. But I’m used to fixing a lot of different things, I used to be a pilot before the outbreak.”

“I don’t want to get into it now, but we will have a conversation with the two of you later about what skills you have that can be useful for the community,” Maria says as the group rides up a large gate set in the wall surrounding the town. “But for now, let's get you settled, it’s been a long night for us all.” She waves to the men guarding the gate and someone on the inside pulls it open.

“We’ll put you up in one of the empty houses for now, we’ve cleaned them all out and there’s sheets and pillows in most of them.”

You look around you as the horses pass through the gate. The sky is light, the sun almost up, and it casts a golden glow over the western themed houses. Maria points down the street and you see a wood barricade at the end of it.

“Down there is the rest of the town, we’ve only walled off this smaller area so far, it was already a gated community so we built on the existing walls.”

“Is the rest of the town cleared of infected?” Frankie asks and Maria nods.

“Yeah, we had to do it bit by bit, but we cleared the last house a month ago. But it’s outside the wall so it’s not completely safe, we still get infected wandering in sometimes.That’s why we have guards and patrols to handle them and any potential raiders.”

She leads you to the stables and you dismount, Ned comes over and takes Winston’s reins.

“I’ll get him dried off, just go with Maria and get settled,” he says with a smile and Frankie slides off, one hand on Jack and then gives you a hand down. You yawn wide as you get down, the sleepless night is catching up with you as you feel safer.

Maria leads you to a small house near the outskirts of the gated community and opens the door.

“This will be your place for now, or at least if you decide to stay with us,” she says, motioning you inside. “There’s no food here, come to the mess hall for that. But try to get some rest first, there’s a crib for Jack in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

“Thanks Maria, we’re very grateful for your help,” you say and she gives you a quick nod.

“I’m sure you’re hoping you didn’t make a mistake in trusting us, and I’m hoping we didn’t make a mistake in trusting you,” she says, “We’re a small community and we need decent people to keep this place safe and thriving, I hope my gut feeling about you two is correct.”

“It is, we’re just looking for somewhere good and safe to settle down, even before we found baby Jack,” Frankie says, “If you are who you say you are, we’ll be happy to help build the community.”

“Good, that’s great to hear,” she says, moving towards the door, “I’ll see you both later today, there’s firewood outback if you want to heat up water and clean up.”

With that she leaves, closing the door behind her, and you find yourself alone with Frankie in a house, a safe house, for the first time in years.

“Hermosa,” Frankie slides his arm around your waist, “you look dead on your feet, c’mon, let’s sleep before we do anything else.”

You nod, yawning big again and letting Frankie guide you up the stairs to the second floor where you found what looks like a master bedroom. The house looks well preserved despite all the years it’s been abandoned and there’s pillows and sheets with thick blankets on the bed. It looks very inviting and you groan at the sight of it. Sliding off your backpack you sit down on the bed while Frankie smiles at you, bouncing Jack on his arms. He’d woken up during the ride but now he’s yawning again.

“I’ll find the crib for Jack,,” Frankie says, “Just go to bed, cariño, I’ll be right there.”

You give him a grateful nod and start unlacing your boots and peeling off your clothes. Everything you own is grimy and unwashed but you find your least dirty t-shirt and change into it. As you pull back the sheets Frankie comes yawning through the door.

“The crib is in the room across the hall,” he says, “Jack fell asleep instantly but I left the door open so we’ll hear him if he wakes up.”

“Hopefully he’s as tired as us and we can get a few hour’s sleep,” you yawn, sliding into the bed as Frankie starts pulling off his clothes. It doesn’t take him long to climb in next to you. You yawn again and Frankie pulls you into his arms, tucking your head in under his chin.

“Sleep, hermosa, I think we’re safe here for now,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair and you feel yourself slip into sleep without even trying. The last thing you register is Frankie’s lips against your cheek.

When you wake up a few hours later you think for a minute that you’re in a dream. You’re warm under the covers, Frankie’s arm is wrapped around your waist and you can feel his shallow breaths against your neck. The bed under you is soft and a shaft of sunlight is filtering in through the closed curtains, hitting a painting of a mountain landscape. You let your eyes drift around the room and take it in as you slowly remember where you are; Jackson, a safe place at last.

Frankie stirs behind you, tightening his grip around your waist, “Morning, cariño,” he mumbles and pushes his nose into your hair, inhaling and kissing your neck.

“More like ‘afternoon’,” you smile, reaching back and threading your fingers through his curls.

“Mhmm…I slept like a log,” he rolls over and stretches out, pulling you with him so that you end up half on top of him. You lean your chin on his chest and trace your fingers through his scruffy beard.

“Me too, and it seems like Jack did too,” you mumble, kissing his chest as he strokes your hair. And right on cue, Jack whimpers from the room across the hall and begins to cry.

“I’ll get him,” you say, pushing yourself off the bed, “he’s probably hungry, it’s been hours since he ate.”

“I know how he feels,” Frankie mutters, “I’m starving, we should see if we can give him the last of the spagettios and then go to the mess hall Maria mentioned.” He sits up and shoves his fingers through his curls, making them stand on end.

While you get Jack and get him to stop crying, Frankie gets the camping stove out and heats up some food.

“Hey, look,” he calls from downstairs, “someone’s left some supplies on the porch.” He comes in with a bag as you bring Jack down. “Looks like some clean clothes both for us and Jack, and some diapers.” He holds up some reusable diapers, “they’ve thought of everything.”

He comes over to Jack and gives his little belly a poke, “did you poop your pants, little man? Yeah, you did, I can smell you.” Frankie chuckles as Jack giggles and squeals. “Do you wanna do food or poop?” he asks you with a grin and you immediately hand Jack over to him.

“Food, you’re on poop duty,” you reply, grinning back at him and Frankie makes a grimace.

“Knew you’d say that, cariño,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Too late now, Frankie,” you laugh and grab the last can of spagettios from his backpack.

Frankie starts cleaning up Jack as you warm the food and when Jack’s got a clean diaper on Frankie comes over.

“I was thinking about what Maria said before,” he says, setting Jack down on the counter and holding on to him, “About everyone doing what they can to help out this community.”

“You’re thinking about what they’ll say if you tell them about your background?”

“Yeah…” he trails off, watching Jack open his mouth for a first spoonful of pasta. “I’m not going to tell them about the PTSD or the drugs, it’s none of their business and I’ve got it under control. But if I tell them about my army background, they’ll want me to do patrols, and I’d like to do that, if you’re ok with it?” Frankie looks over at you, his eyebrows drawn together in that slightly worried look.

“I can’t imagine doing patrols and guard duty here is anything like what it was like with FEDRA, Frankie,” you say, putting your hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “And if you start feeling it, please Frankie….” you gently take his chin between your thumb and finger and give him a little tug with every word, “You’ve. Got. To. Tell. Me.” You look into his warm brown eyes and he gives you a crooked smile.

“I know, no more hiding things,” he nods, taking your hand from his chin and pressing his warm lips to your palm, “I promise, for real this time.”

“Good. Because we didn’t just go through all that shit and travel halfway across the country for you to do all of that again,” you smile as he pulls you in by your hand and leans his forehead against yours.

“I promise, I really, really mean it, no more lies, no more hiding, I’m going to be what you deserve now, cariño.” He dips his head and finds your lips, one hand still holding on to Jack who’s gurgling happily on the counter, the other slipping around your neck and holding you just as close as the little boy.

Once Jack is fed and changed you heat up some water on the old wood fired stove. The old house you’re in has a modern kitchen but both the living room and the kitchen have the old fireplace and stove and plenty of firewood stacked next to them. You light a fire and Frankie gets water from the hand cranked well outside. It’s not exactly a hot shower or bath but it’s warm water to wash in and you take the chance to wash some of your clothes too, hanging them to dry in front of the fire before you leave for the mess hall.

The mess hall is easy to find, it’s the largest building in the old gated community and used to be the community center. Someone has made a rough wooden sign and it hangs over the door of the western style building. Frankie holds Jack on his hip, his other hand holding yours as you walk down the main street towards the hall. You can’t help but glance at Frankie and Jack. It’s almost hard to believe the change that Frankie’s undergone in just a few weeks since you left Boston. The withdrawals had left him haggard and tired looking, and you know he’d struggled with the more psychological symptoms longer than the physiological symptoms. But traveling further away from Boston had changed his mood and with the added responsibility of Jack, a child to care for, you started seeing a version of Frankie that you hadn’t seen since before the outbreak. You don’t think he’s even realizing it himself but you’re seeing how he’s slowly turning back into the dad he was to Lucía, treating Jack like a son even though he might not be ready to see him as such. At least not yet.

Now he bounces Jack on his hip, tickling the boy's chin as Jack happily gurgles up at him and you see Maria smiling at the two of them as you enter the mess hall.

“Hey there, I was wondering when you’d show up,” she says, coming over and smiling at Jack who gives her a toothless grin.

“Thanks for the supplies,” you say, “I’m guessing you had something to do with that?”

“Yeah, I thought you might need some things to feel a bit more human after traveling for as long as you have.” She gestures to a cantina set up at one end of the room, “Have some food and come and sit down with us.”

You grab some bowls of rich looking stew and say hello to the woman overseeing the cantina. She’s delighted by Jack’s gurgling smile and gives him a small bowl of fresh blueberries that she mashes up with some honey.

“Someone kept bees in one of the gardens before the outbreak,” she says, “so we now have a huge bee colony and more honey than what we know what to do with.”

You thank her and join Maria and Patrick at a table in a corner of the mess hall. The stew is warm and hearty, and you have to pace yourself or you’ll inhale it, hungry as you are by now. Maria and Patrick let you finish your food before Patrick leans forward and leans his elbows on the table.

“So, you seem like decent folk, but I’m sure you understand we’d like to know a bit more about you now that you’ve had a chance to see our community.”

You both nod and Maria looks at you, “Where have you come from?”

“Originally, when the outbreak happened, Arlington, a town down south. But we’d been in Boston for about five years by the time we left.”

“What made you leave? You’re a long way from Boston and it’s a dangerous journey,” Patrick glances between you and Frankie and Frankie answers first.

“Have you heard of a group that calls themselves The Fireflies?” he asks and both Maria and Patrick nod, “They were causing a bit too much trouble in the QZ. They blew up a guard station, a truck, and FEDRA responded as you can imagine, making life very difficult. So we decided to leave.” Frankie glances over at you and takes your hand and rubs little circles into your skin, “We met a year before the outbreak, she’s been my wife for over ten years and I wouldn’t have survived without her, luckily for me she was willing to risk it all and come with me when it became necessary to leave Boston.”

Frankie’s telling a truncated version of the story behind why you left but for now, there’s no need for anyone to know anything else.

“She used to work the civilian radio in Boston and we know the Fireflies are making trouble all across the QZ’s so at first we just planned to get away from Boston and find an isolated farm and try to survive on our own, how long that would be didn’t really matter, as long as she was with me.” Frankie continues to tell the story of your journey across the Midwest, ending with how you found Jack and his mother and how you stole the slavers’ pickup.

“We’ve heard about slavers from some of the people who have joined our community,” Maria says, “the outbreak really brought out the worst kind of behavior from certain people.”

“We’ll certainly make use of your radio skills,” Patrick says to you, “there’s a radio tower nearby that we haven’t managed to fix yet, we need to fix the dam first, but you might be able to help us with the radio when it comes time for that.”

You nod, “I can fix most things on the particular model we had in Boston, if we have the right parts, but Frankie’s the real fixer.”

“What have you worked with, Frankie?” Maria asks and you see Frankie inhale, there’s so much trauma connected to what he did both before and after the outbreak, and you take hold of his hand, squeezing it lightly, giving him your support, and you can tell both Maria and Patrick senses the tension.

“Before the outbreak I was retired from the army,” Frankie begins, trying to keep his hand from nervously shooting up and rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m ex special ops, Delta Force, I was a helicopter pilot, a soldier.”

You can see Maria and Patrick exchange a quick glance and Patrick nods, “I’m not gonna lie, Frankie, we live under constant threat of raiders and infected here, to have someone with your background on our side would be a great help.”

“I realize that, and so did FEDRA, they recruited me in exchange for letting myself and my wife stay in the QZ we got to at the beginning of the outbreak. But I didn’t stay with them for too long, their ways of doing things…” Frankie trails off and shakes his head. “So, we,” he glances at you, “did what we needed to do to stay alive. We both smuggled, got stuff into the QZ’s we were in both for our own survival and benefit. But we did good too, I hope,” he looks at you again and you nod.

“We did good, Frankie, you know that. We brought in medicine and supplies that FEDRA was denying the population.”

“Everyone here has lived under FEDRA rule,” Maria says and Patrick nods in agreement, “we know all too well what it’s like. I don’t judge you for being smugglers, as long as you’re good people.”

You feel Frankie tense up at the last words, but he bites his tongue as you squeeze his hand.

“We stopped smuggling a while back though,” he says instead, “I couldn’t handle the risk it put her in,” he looks at you and his eyes soften as you smile at him, “and then, when it got more dangerous, I didn’t want to risk leaving her behind alone if something would happen to me.”

“Well, we don’t need smugglers here, but we do need good guards and we all take turns doing guard duty or go on patrols,” Maria says, “We run this place like a commune, everything we have is owned by everyone, and we share the resources we bring in.”

“I’m in charge of the hunting parties,” Patrick says, “so if either one of you is a good hunter, let me know. We eat mainly meat that we trap or shoot, but it’s hard work feeding everyone.”

“Our crops are starting to ripen, we’ve worked hard all year to cultivate local crops and we hope to have greenhouses too at some point. But for that, we need electricity, so that’s our first priority,” Maria explains, “but we’ll give you some time to settle in today and I’ll show you around tomorrow.”

“Frankie, if you don’t mind, can I take you up to the dam tomorrow?” Patrick asks and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, sure, whatever works for you,” he replies, “If you’re ok with taking Jack tomorrow, cariño?”

You nod and Maria reaches over the table and strokes the baby’s hand, “We don’t have any babies here, yet at least, but we hope that Jackson will be safe enough for people to raise families in the future.” She looks up at you and Frankie and seems to hesitate, “I know you two accidentally became Jack’s caretakers, but I get the sense that you’d like to continue to care for him?”

You both nod, “We feel responsible for him now,” you say as Frankie puts a protective hand around Jack and smiles at him, “and we did promise his mom to keep him safe, at least until we could find his uncle, and with him gone, that feels more important than ever.”

“What happened to his uncle?” Frankie asks, looking up again and Patrick grimaces and shakes his head.

“It was two clickers, three of us were clearing out one of the last houses in Jackson, outside the gated community, and we'd killed three runners and heard nothing else. But they were inside a shed in the yard and came rushing out as we approached. Jack was unlucky, got bit as we took them down.”

“We’ve been here just over six months now and we’ve lost three good people to raiders and infected,” Maria says, “and it never gets easier. But we’ve learned a lot from each death, we’re safer now, better guarded.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Frankie says, “but you seem to have built up a good perimeter defense, judging by what we saw when we rode in.”

“I would love to have your eyes on it, Frankie,” Patrick says, “give us some advice on improvements.”

Maria gives a low chuckle, “Give the man a break, Pat, he’s been here all but two minutes and you’ve already commandeered his time.”

“It’s alright,” Frankie said, shaking his head, “No problem at all, if we’re staying here I’m more than happy to help out in any way I can to keep this place as safe as possible.”

“Speaking of staying then,” Maria says, smiling at you and Jack now, “why don’t you have a wander around Jackson, and see what we have to offer. It’s not big but I think it’ll give you an idea about what we’re trying to build here and we’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say and Frankie nods, shaking Patrick’s offered hand.

“Welcome to Jackson.”

It doesn’t take you long to see all of Jackson, the community is clearly very small but like Maria had said, you could see what they were planning. People were working on a number of projects around the small gated community and the park in the center had given way to crops that looked almost ready to harvest. The garden of one of the biggest houses has been converted into a stable yard and a stable is almost fully built up against the wall that surrounds the community. You say hello to Winston and Ned, who turns out to be the one responsible for Jackson’s horses.

At the furthest end of the small town is the slaughterhouse, where fresh game has been brought in by two women and hung up, the blood trickling from two white tail deer.

As you wander back towards the house you’re staying at, Frankie hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you close.

“This all feels very…normal,” he says, “like maybe they have a chance at making this work.”

“Normal, apart from the infected and the raiders?” you say, looking up at the high wall that surrounds the small community, guards with rifles patrolling at the top.

“Yeah, but Maria and Patrick seem to have the right idea about how to run this place, so maybe they can make it work,” Frankie glances around the small town, “It’s kinda like the settlers in the old west. You were somewhat safe in the towns but it was dangerous to travel outside them. The biggest problem with what’s happened after the outbreak isn’t the infected, it’s how FEDRA handled the situation.”

You’ve arrived at the house and Jack’s fallen asleep so you put him down and join Frankie out on the porch.

“So what do you think?” he says, pulling you down onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Do you think we should stay here and make a go of it?”

“I think so, Frankie, if you think you’ll be alright with patrols and guard duty?”

“Yeah, I think so…” he rubs his hand up and down your back, looking out over the small street the house is on, “It’s not for FEDRA, it’s for this place, for you and for Jack, to help keep you and this place safe.”

“I think you’ll be able to help them a lot too, you can use your skills for something that really makes a difference for this place.” You run your fingers through the curls at the back of his head, long enough now for you to wind around your fingers. Frankie’s looked away from the street and is looking at you, his warm brown eyes soft as he smiles up at you.

“And they have sturdy doors on these houses,” his hand has drifted up from your back to wrap around your neck and he’s gently pulling you closer to his lips. As you smile the pink tip of his tongue comes out and licks his plush bottom lip, you don’t even need to feel the bulge growing under you to know what he’s thinking about. You press your lips against his as he pulls you closer, his mouth opening to let you in with a low groan.

“Cariño,” he mumbles, “this is all I ever want,” his hand presses against your back as he deepens the kiss, “you and me in a quiet place where I can give you everything you deserve.”

“You deserve it too, Frankie,” you mumble, his hand tangling in your hair as his tongue slips in between your lips. You can feel him nod under you but you lose all train of thought as he bucks his hips under you.

“Fuck, hermosa…” he mutters, “we need to move inside or our new neighbors…”

You pull him up, take his hand and slip through the door while he wraps his arms around you from behind, kicking the door closed with his foot.

“Bring Jack upstairs and put him in the crib,” you say, as Frankie starts kissing your neck, pushing your hair out of the way.

“Do you really think we’ll make it upstairs,” he mutters, his hand already tugging at your t-shirt, slipping it under it and pushing under your bra.

“We have a kid now, Frankie,” you chuckle, “no sex in front of the baby.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he grumbles and pulls away from you, keeping it decent as he picks up Jack, carefully to not wake him, and follows you upstairs. Once Jack is safely nestled into his crib and the door closed but with a crack open in case he wakes up, Frankie comes into your bedroom with a smirk.

“You’re gonna need to be quiet or you’ll wake him and alert the neighbors, and I’m gonna make sure you really wanna scream my name, cariño…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you hold your finger up to him.

“Francisco Morales, you wouldn’t dare,” you wave the finger threateningly in front of him as he stalks across the room, making you back up until your legs hit the bed, his grin is lethal, all wicked intentions and mischief.

“Just let me take care of you, mi hermosa, mi amor de mi vida,” he croons, slipping his hands around your waist and gently pushing you back onto the bed, making you crawl up towards the top as he bends his head and starts kissing every inch of skin he can reach while peeling off your shirt, quickly followed by your pants. When his wide shoulders pushes your legs apart you groan and fall back against the sheets. You can feel his hot breath against your core as he settles down and grabs your thighs, kneading them and letting his fingers caress the soft skin.

“Frankie,” you sigh, reaching down and threading your fingers through his curls.

“Fuck…” he grumbles, “I’ve missed this, this sight, this smell, cariño, you’re so fucking sweet,” without warning he dips his head and runs his tongue through your folds, a long deep lick that ends at your clit. The sensation explodes through your nerve endings and you arch your back up, pressing your hips against his mouth.

“Did you miss this too, hermosa?” he chuckles, looking up at you from between your thighs, a smirk on his face, but before you get a chance to answer he dives back down, tasting every part of you as his nose circles around your clit but never really touching. The teasing makes you moan, canting your hips up against him and he pins you down with an arm over your middle.. When he slips in two fingers you’re already on the edge, with a whimper you cry his name, trying to keep your voice down. He pumps them slowly, curling them back as his lips seal around your clit. You glance down at him and he’s got his eyes on you, his black eyes are glowing as he watches you pant, your body taught as a bowstring.

He lifts his head slightly, his mouth hovering just over you and every one of his breaths sends tremors through your body.

“Come on, let me feel you come on my mouth and then I’ll fuck you, I wanna feel you around my cock so badly, cariño, you have no idea how hard I am…” he grinds his hips into the mattress, dragging the tip of his tongue over your clit again. His words and his eyes, still burning up your body makes you groan, barely able to keep looking at him. As his lips close around your clit again, ramping up the pressure, you throw your hand over your mouth, biting down hard on your lip as you moan. When you fall over the edge his fingers almost stop moving as you spasm around them but the rough pads keep pushing you through every wave that crashes over you. Frankie doesn’t let up, his tongue flicking over your clit as heat courses through your body until every muscle in your body relaxes and you fall back against the bed.

“So fucking good, cariño,” Frankie moans, trailing sticky kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, moving up to your hips, resting his head there and looking at you as he caresses your skin.

“Come up here and fuck me then, Frankie,” you mumble, reaching down for him and he groans, hiding his face against your hip, sucking a mark into you, making you hiss under him. His tongue comes out and soothes the mark before he sits up and quickly pulls off his shirt and pants before crawling up the bed, hooking his arm under your knee as he goes. He’s painfully hard and weeping, you can feel him drag over your leg, the contact makes him exhale sharply and he grabs his cock firmly. He slides the tip through your sensitive slick folds as he bends down and slips his tongue between your lips. You feel the familiar stretch of him as he pushes the blunt head into you, forcing your knee up higher and grinding his way deeper.

He gasps as you involuntarily clench down around him, “Bebita…fuck…so tight..I…I can’t fucking move…” With a deep groan he pulls out a little before slamming in deep again, making you bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying out. Your arms come up around his neck and pull him down closer as he begins to move in earnest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and moves in and out, slow at first but soon he picks up pace, groaning over you as his own high draws near. The familiar tingling is building inside you again as he hits a spot deep inside and he can feel you starting to tremble around him.

“C’mon…please…again, hermosa, fuck…” he pushes himself up on one elbow and looking down at you, his sweaty curls hanging over his forehead as his hand slides down and grabs your hip, “I’m…fuck…” he drops down with his forehead against yours, his eyes squeezing shut as your climax explodes through your body and you feel him follow, grinding deep. Both your moans mix in the air, all attempts at keeping quiet forgotten until you collapse on the damp sheets.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his face against your neck, “I came inside you, is it ok?”

“Yeah, I would’ve stopped otherwise, I forgot to tell you it was ok,” you mumble, kissing his damp forehead and pushing back his curls. As you start caressing his hair, scratching his scalp he snuggles deeper into your neck and sighs contentedly.

“I missed this so much, cariño,” he mumbles, “you and me, a bed, nothing else.”

“And a sturdy door?” you smile as his arm comes up around your body, his hand resting on your breast as his thumb lightly strokes across the nipple.

“Yeah, a sturdy door with a lock,” he nibbles at your neck, pressing light kisses along your jaw until he settles down again, humming under his breath.

“I wish there was some way we could let Will and Benny know about this place,” he says after a while. “It’d be good to have them here if they could make the journey.”

“Yeah, I miss them, and Eve and Diana,” you sigh, “and I think Maria and Patrick would love to have two more ex Delta Force guys here.”

Frankie rolls over, pulling you with him so that he can pull your back against his chest and wrap his arm around your waist, “We’ll keep an eye out, maybe we’ll figure something once we fix the dam,” he kisses the back of your head, tucking you in under his chin, “sleep now, cariño.”

…

Patrick comes by next morning and knocks on the door as you’re finishing up breakfast. Frankie grabs his pack and leaves after giving you a kiss and dropping a peck on Jack’s head. He makes you smile when you hear him give the baby instructions to behave and be a good boy for tu mamá .You hadn’t even thought about yourself as his mom, Julia was still his mom, but you guess Jack would have to call you something once he started talking, and Frankie seemed to have settled on mamá for now. It made your heart warm to hear his affection for the little boy, finding him and his mother had maybe been very lucky for you and Frankie, as well as for baby Jack.

For the first time in years, Frankie didn’t feel worried about leaving you behind as he left and went outside the safety a wall entailed. Jackson felt safe, not just because of the wall, but because of the people on the inside. He glanced back up at the gate as it closed behind him, it looked strong and sturdy, and the guards on top were alert.

Patrick, or Pat as he asked Frankie to call him, had brought a group of men and women on the short ride across to the Jackson dam. As they rode Pat pointed out how they’d started building a wall that would circle around the dam structure too.

“That way we won’t have to worry about raiders cutting the electricity once we get it up and running, or infected getting in,” he says, “both possibilities are something we have to take into account whenever we go to the dam now. We have to clear the dam compound every time.”

This time there’s nothing in the building or around it, and Pat leaves three guys to keep watch on the wall over the main entrance.

Together the crew looked over the different components and Pat explained to Frankie what parts they’ve been having problems with. It took them the better part of the day to figure out that something is blocking one of the mechanisms deep inside the dam, then another hour to find the right maintenance hatch and get it open. The tell tale sound of a clicker comes up from the deep hole as they wrench the hatch open. Ladders, however, seem to be something, infected can’t handle so it’s not too much of an issue to shoot the poor dam worker through the head as he scratches against the wall under the hatch. For good measure Frankie and Pat toss a few rocks into the maintenance tunnel and lower a flashlight to lure out any remaining infected. When they deem it safe enough Pat carefully climbs down while Frankie and another man, Walter, cover him.

“Alright, all clear down here,” Pat’s voice comes back up from the tunnel and Frankie climbs down, followed by Walter.

They follow the tunnel down to the entrance in the dam wall and climb out, spotting the problem immediately. A large mess of plastic scraps and synthetic rope has tangled into the mechanism and it takes an hour to clear it without creating further damage. Eventually the machinery turns smoothly and Walter remains behind as Frankie and Pat climb back up to the main operating room.

“Now, if we’ve done everything right, things should work now, and the first turbine will start generating enough electricity to start the main turbines and produce electricity for the town,” Pat hoover his hand over a button and gives Frankie a tight smile, “So far, this hasn’t worked once, so fingers crossed, Frank.”

He pushes the button and in the distance they hear machinery kicking into gear, running for a few seconds before shutting down.

“Fuck…” Pat mumbles, scratching his head, “that’s more than we’ve had before but I don’t know why it shut down.”

“It sounded like it started fine but short circuited,” Frankie says, “Let me open up and check behind the console.”

“Let me know if you need anything, I’m gonna go check on the turbines,” Pat says, leaving Frankie to grab a set of mismatched tools and pry open the console. He sees the issue as soon as he opens it, a thin tendril of smoke is rising from one of the wires, the insulation has corroded and it’s touching another wire. It’s a matter of minutes to rewire it and make sure the inside is protected from any dampness. Once the dam is up and running the heating will keep this dry and protected.

“Pat,” Frankie calls, “I’ve fixed I think, let’s try it again.”

Pat comes back and motions to Frankie to hit the button, “Do the honors, you’re the one who fixed the last bit.”

“Here goes nothing,” Frankie grimaces and gently pushes the button again. This time the machinery kicks into gear, running smoothly for a couple of minutes until a louder rumble starts up, the main turbines starting to turn and suddenly, making both men startle, lights flood the room their in, lights go on all over the console and static starts pouring out of an abandoned radio on the window sill.

“Oh shit! It worked! It fucking works!” Patrick yells, punching the air before clapping Frankie on the shoulder with a big grin. From the outside they can hear yells of delight from the other men and women of the work party. They go out to join them, leaning over the edge of the dam and watching the water pump through the turbine hall and the lights in the lamps lining the edge flicker to life.

“All the cables feeding electricity to Jackson are underground so we’re hoping they’re unharmed, the town should have electricity now!” Pat says, grinning widely, “Come on, let’s head back and make sure everything’s working.”

Three of the guys are staying behind to keep guard and make sure the dam runs smoothly, they’re to be relieved in a few hours, for a night shift.

“We can’t leave the dam unguarded now,” Pat says, “and we might need to do something about the lights, black them out for now, so that we don’t draw too much attention to it.”

When they get back to the Jackson gate people are waiting for them, you’re there with Jack on your hip. The lights in the house had suddenly come on, a few of the light bulbs immediately broke, but the fridge started humming and the tv buzzed to life with loud static that startled Jack enough to make him cry. You had to run around and turn as much as possible off, checking what worked and what didn’t. The hot water boiler seemed to be working just fine and was full of water that was slowly heating up. Even the radiators came to life, warming the house. Maria had shown up a little while later, on her way to the gate.

“Let’s go greet our returning heroes,” she laughed, “I can’t believe we’ve got electricity!”

All of Jackson turned out, forming a crowd just inside the gate and everyone cheered as the work party, led by Pat, rode into town. Frankie quickly found you in the crowd, grinning wildly as he came over, his horse in tow.

“What a welcoming committee;” he grinned, bending to kiss you and then Jack.

“How does it feel to be a town hero on your second day, Frankie?” you laugh, hugging him tightly as he took Jack from you, putting him on his hip.

“Feels good, feels like coming home, cariño. Feels like coming home.”

Chapter 36

If anyone reading knows how a hydroelectric dam actually works, don't tell me all the mistakes I made, I'm playing fast and lose with the technical details here!

I'm also kinda playing lose with any abandonment issues Jack should, realistically, have after being taken from his mother at six months. But I'm excusing that by thinking that he probably didn't get to spend too much time with his mother anyway, in my mind Julia would've been forced to work straight after giving birth and Jack was left behind whenever the slavers wouldn't let her bring him to whatever work she was made to do (seriously, the last part of The Last of Us 2 is horrifying, it gives a very nasty view into how a slaver's camp worked in this world).

The song that Frankie sings to Jack is called Arroz con Leche and is a well known Latino lullaby. You can hear the version Frankie sings if you look for Arroz con Leche sung by Soleada Arboleda on Spotify!

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446 @your-slutty-gf

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #Frankie morales smut #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fanfic

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talesofesther · 9 months

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is it too late to call you mine? | ch 3

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: In Sebastian's prettiest dreams, you'd wear a gown of a color that matched his tie, he'd take your hand and dance all night until morning came. But those dreams felt like a farfetched reality. Would you even consider going with him? As more than a friend?

A/N: This is the last part of my story for @spaceyaceface's HL Writing Challenge. I loved how this story turned out and loved writing it, hope you guys like it as well. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 2 here

Sebastian didn't want to be here. At least not in these circumstances.

He would be happy to be tucked away in his common room, or in the Undercroft. But for some reason, Ominis had insisted that he'd come, saying something about you being happy if he were to be there. And honestly, when it came to you, Sebastian never needed much convincing.

Students were steadily making their way inside the Great Hall, which was meticulously decorated; snowflakes fell from the enchanted ceiling and landed on the leaves of the many Christmas trees near the walls, blue and silver lights shone against the white tablecloths, and a band played a soft tune to fill the silence. The young couples held hands and smiled through the blush on their cheeks.

Sebastian paced back and forth beside the doors that lead to the ball, a permanent scowl on his face. Against his own better judgment, he wore black suit pants, a dark grey shirt with a black vest on top, and his dark long coat to chase away the cold.

"I still think there's no reason for me to be here, Ominis," Sebastian huffed.

Ominis, leaning back against the wall, raised an eyebrow at his friend, "No one's forcing you to stay, but I still think you would regret not being here."

"Why?" Sebastian stopped his pacing, shaking his head slightly, "She has her date for the evening, it's not like there's any hope for me to-"

The words suddenly died in his mouth then, for his gaze drifted up the stairs in front of him, up to where you now stood. Sebastian could feel all the air leaving his lungs, his breath running shallow. He couldn't pull his eyes away from you even if he wanted to. You wore this dark dress that hugged your body to perfection, expensive fabric glinting under the candlelights; light makeup framed your already breathtaking features, and your hair was styled up in a messy bun.

Palms sticky with sweat, Sebastian tried to swallow as you came down the stairs and towards him. Each step of your heels against the stone floor were two beats of his frantic heart. Sebastian thought it impossible that he could ever be more in love with you, but you always adored proving him wrong.

For a split second, there was no faint music coming from the Great Hall, no other students walking past him and wondering why he looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky. No; there was only you and him. Your eyes met his then, with a hint of surprise in your features because of his presence.

Sebastian took a single step forward, his body in a trance. He hadn't seen much of you in these last few days, and now felt like the first time all over again.

Your eyes drifted away from him once you walked down the last step of the stairs, a smile that felt just a little rehearsed coming to your lips when Garreth suddenly met you in the middle.

Reality was a shot straight through Sebastian's heart. He watched helplessly as the ginger took hold of your hand and placed a kiss on top of it.

That should've been him, Sebastian thought, his chest feeling tight. You should be coming towards him, and not Weasley. He should be the one to hold your hand and tell you how beautiful you are. He could be. But it was his own fault that he wasn't.

The anger left his body with a sigh, leaving room only for the all-consuming regret to stay.

You allowed Garreth to intertwine your fingers with his, and as you walked past Sebastian you gave him a soft smile and a shy wave in greeting.

The Slytherin couldn't help but give you a smile of his in turn, even if it didn't hold any happiness at all.

── ·❆· ──

The Ball itself was nothing short of a spectacle, headmaster Black made sure of it, going far and beyond to impress the other Headmasters of the visiting schools. This year's Triwizard Champions opened the dance and soon enough the Great Hall was filled with couples doing their best to not step on each other's feet.

Sebastian chose to sit at a table tucked in a far corner, where the blue and silver lights barely reached. He mindlessly twirled his half-full glass between his fingers, a permanent pout sitting on his lips.

He hadn't missed the many girls whispering to each other and throwing glances at him, with teasing smiles on their pink lips as their eyes beaconed him to get up and ask them for a dance. Maybe he would have, in the past, he would be pleased to indulge as many girls as he could. But today, when his heart called for only one other, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

As Sebastian knew you would, you took to dancing as if it was second nature. As you did with anything you put your mind to. Your dark dress swirled smoothly across the dance floor, movements all fluid and graceful, your smile all pretty and easy.

Ominis was there too, Sebastian noted, features soft as he held onto Poppy's waist and she led him through the dance.

Downing the last of his drink in one big gulp, Sebastian got up. He grimaced when whatever it was that had been in his glass burned its way down his throat. Blending well with the shadows, he made his way outside, in desperate need of some fresh air.

Tiny snowflakes were falling from the sky, coating the viaduct courtyard in a thin layer of white snow that shone brightly under the moonlight. The cold air bit at Sebastian's cheeks and brought a shiver down his spine, but it was a welcoming feeling.

He'd felt alone many times in his life, yet here, as he stood amidst the snow without a soul nearby to witness, might be the loneliest of all.

The tip of his fingers started to become numb, snow steadily collected on his shoulders and clung to strands of his hair. He buried his hands in the pockets of his pants, huffing a breath of white air through his nose.

Sebastian wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there when he heard hesitant footsteps crushing the snow behind him, coming closer. He didn't turn around, part of him knew who it was.

He recognized you by the way you hissed when the gelid air easily seeped through the thin fabric of your dress. The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

You came to stand right beside Sebastian, personal space forgotten when you looped your arm around his and snuggled closer, your cheek pressing against his shoulder as you chased his warmth.

That's just how you two could be sometimes, no words because there was no need for them; only existing in each other's presence, souls entangled.

Sebastian exhaled shakingly, his heart threatening to escape his chest when he turned his head to you. His lips touched your hairline in a faint kiss before he leaned his cheek on top of your head.

The 'I missed you' had no need to be spoken out loud, you both knew it.

Maybe you were just two fools in love, clinging to each other under the falling snow, yet too stubborn to ever admit it.

"Why are you standing out here in the cold?" You whispered after a beat.

"You're here too," Sebastian reasoned just as quietly.

"Came to get you back inside," you told him with a grin, making no effort to move away.

A low chuckle escaped Sebastian, he bit at the inside of his cheek before speaking, "But it's much nicer here." He pointedly looked up at the sky then, and you followed his gaze. The moon was bright, with a few clouds hazing its light, and snowflakes glinting under it.

"I thought you didn't like the Ball."

Your soft words brought Sebastian's gaze back to you. He watched as the moonlight reflected against your eyes and shaped the outlines of your features while you looked up, worthy of a painting.

There was a question hiding behind your words, one that made Sebastian's stomach twist and turn with anxiety.

"I didn't-" Sebastian hesitated, and you turned to look at him, watching as his lips hovered for a moment, "I didn't exactly mean that," he glanced away from your eyes.

A soft crease appeared on your eyebrows that Sebastian wanted to smooth away. You regarded him with a mix of curiosity and longing. "Why would you say it then?" More than anything, you sounded hurt.

The guilt weighing down on Sebastian's chest only worsened. He couldn't have you thinking he had said that only because he didn't want to take you, when it was the exact opposite.

Subconsciously, Sebastian took hold of the hand you had around his arm. "I only said that because I was too much of a coward to ask you to the Ball myself, and… Guess I didn't want you going with anyone else, hoped maybe we'd skip it together instead." A soft blush dusted his cheeks and he avoided your gaze again, a bittersweet smile coming to his lips, "but it backfired immensely," he chuckled then, happy to have managed a soft laugh out of you as well.

A beat passed and his smile faded. He added quietly; "selfish, I know."

In the same heartbeat, you answered, "I would've said yes."

Chocolate brown eyes met yours, they were glinting under the moonlight as Sebastian looked at you, not daring to breathe. Snowflakes clung to his hair and lashes, freckled cheeks dusted pink. He looked like your favorite dream too.

"If you had asked, I would've said yes," you told him again, voice all soft and sweet as honey. You raised the hand he wasn't holding and brushed away longer strands of his hair so you could see his eyes clearly, "in a heartbeat."

You thought you saw tears pooling in Sebastian's eyes, but he blinked them away, pursing his lips before he spoke; "more than anything," he choked on his words, "I wish I had."

In the distance, you could hear the music still coming from the Great Hall, you couldn't make out any words but the melody was sufficiently clear. You grasped Sebastian's hand tighter, taking a step forward and tugging him with you. "Dance with me?"

He frowned, but a smile threatened to show on his lips. His feet followed you of their own volition. "Out here?"

You nodded softly, your hand came to rest on Sebastian's shoulder then, and his rested comfortably on your waist while you clasped his other hand in your own, fingers intertwined.

With a rhythm much slower than the one you'd followed when Sebastian was teaching you, you swayed gently from side to side, almost as if the cold wind was guiding you. Your heels and his shoes scrunched the snow underneath, Sebastian hugged you closer when the falling snow got a tad thicker.

The night suddenly belonged to you and him, a moment tucked away in a courtyard of Hogwarts. Two hearts beating in harmony.

A song or two passed with both of you allowing your bodies to do the talking, one following the other like you belonged just like that, wrapped in each other's arms.

Sebastian eventually released your hand so he could rest both his hands on your waist, his fingertips slightly digging into the fabric of your dress as he pulled you to him. You in turn brought both arms around his shoulders, gently playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, while you rested your head on his chest.

Feeling the shape of you in his arms, your perfume clouding his senses, Sebastian realized then, that you were the sun for him. But not the sun that comes on a warm and clear day; you were the sun that came during the cold, when he hadn't felt its warmth in a while and everything looked gray before. That's what you always had been, a source of light, of warmth, of hope. Maybe that's why Sebastian's love for you almost hurts to feel the longer he keeps it tucked away in his chest.

He wondered if you were able to hear just how fast his heart was beating right now.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian mumbled, his lips grazing your hair. He cleared his throat in order for his voice not to come out as tender as he felt. "I still don't know how to get to you, how to… be someone who's deserving of you."

You pulled away from him and Sebastian's breathing stuttered. Your gaze found his, and in his eyes, you could see the regret, the guilt. You knew he blamed himself for much of what happened during your fifth year, no matter how much you tried to make him see otherwise.

With a delicate touch, you cupped Sebastian's cheek, watching with your heart in your mouth as he visibly leaned against your hand, closing his eyes momentarily. "Why don't I be the judge of that?" You whispered, your eyes drifting down to his lips just before you leaned in.

Sebastian breathed in sharply through his nose when your lips touched his, eyes widening in surprise only to close in bliss right after. You kissed him softly, your lips mapping his as if you were trying to memorize each part of him. Both your hands cupped his jaw and you held him to you, showing him anything you weren't able to put into words.

He suddenly couldn't get enough of you. Sebastian's hands were warm against your back, pressing your body to his. He pulled away then, his upper lip just shy of grazing yours as he turned his head, nose bumping yours only so he could kiss you again, again, again.

Snowflakes were melting onto his clothes, his skin. Yet Sebastian felt warm. He whispered confessions of love and you kissed the words. Promising you could never not love him.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Sebastian’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @auxiliare @arawai

#sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagine #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x f!reader #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #sebastian sallow fanfiction #my story

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pursuitseternal · 2 months

Text

“Arising” to the climax of “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Cordehlia (Named Tav) | E | 3.6 K

Love to @marimosalad , my illustrator and co creator

Summary: Cazador’s dungeons, where his love is reduced to a hostage to ensure his willingness in the Rite of Profane Ascension. The Pale Elf and the Bone Picker are faced with an even more desperate choice in that glow of Infernal magic.

CW: violence, angst, Pale Elf Quest spoilers, heartache, impossible choices, Catharsis, and near death experiences.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 18: Arising…

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Dagger bit flesh, one last werewolf felled in the Ballroom. Blood everywhere, it covered them all, but Astarion grinned in wicked delight as he took in their progress. The Palace would be gutted, and she would be saved. Cazador would be dead, and with any luck, he might just ensure immortality and power and prestige for them both. Forever.

He looked into the faces of his friends, all just as bloodied and breathless as he was.

And what was more, they all grinned back, panting and bent over with exhaustion some, well, Gale unsurprisingly. But they all were with him.

It took a matter of moments for them to find the way to the dungeons, his stomach sinking, his undead heart somehow racing, almost tangible again in his chest as they lowered to the crypt.

Foul air hit their faces, rot and putrefaction and mold, a place he didn’t even know existed. And yet, somehow, the perfect place for Cazador to wallow and bait his trap. The sewer rat that he was.

Cells lined the walls once they reached the bottom, hundreds of glowing red eyes staring at him, clamors of parched voices, some that had haunted him for centuries.

“Are all these…?” Shadowheart’s question died on her lips as the answer became too clear.

“Targets… Victims…. More… spawn….” Astarion kept his eyes fixed ahead. “They should have been dead, drained and dismembered,” he hissed, betrayal upon betrayal festering in his stomach now. “He must need them, must be part of his plan….”

“There must be hundreds… thousands…” Halsin’s voice almost shook at the atrocity.

But atrocity had been a daily part of his life for all his years enslaved. Astarion could only push forward, unable to look or listen at the faces he still saw in his nightmares, those torturous visions that plagued him any time he wasn’t dreaming about…

“Cordehlia,” he froze outside a cell, empty and blood spattered. Crouching, he touched his fingers in the red pool of sticky blood and licked it. “Her scent is here,” he whispered, pressed and taught as every instinct to kill began to take hold. “She was here, but it’s not her blood,” he stood smirking. “Ghast and werewolf, at least she put them through the hells, by the look of it. Unarmed too.” He absentmindedly tapped the dagger at his hip.

“Of course she did,” Karalch gave a small, slight laugh, unusual for her. “That’s our girl.”

“But it doesn’t tell why so many other victims, why so many monsters,” Wyll’s voice sliced through as sharp as his blade.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance….”

The scent of brimstone and sulfur, the sting of Infernal magic in the air, that velvet baritone voice, only one Cambion would offer help one last time… just a small, black and molten form hovered at their eye level. Slowly, those dark sunken eyes, that hard-lined face materialized before them all. Half-formed from the neck up, that familiar face smirked at them.

Raphael.

“What the fuck do you want?” Astarion rounded, fangs bared and fists clenched. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit too busy to thank you for gracing us with your presence, devil,” Astarion snapped, sarcasm dripping from his words as he gave a subtle bow of his head. “If you slow me down now, you’ll find yourself short not two… but three horns someday….”

He didn’t mean horns alone. That made Karlach snicker.

But Astarion couldn’t enjoy the mirth, not when he was so very close now. That hurried bite in his words, he met Raphael’s black stare with disgust. “I don’t know why you think we might need assistance, what with facing down my old master with his army of an untold, unknown number of spawn, oh and he has the love of my life somewhere here….” He sneered, feral and fangs flashing. I think we have it under control, Raphael, so you can burst into mist and let me keep… going.” Spit flying, he snarled by the end.

“The spawn are not an army, my toothsome friend, they are his offering to Mephistopheles, the seven-thousand souls required for Cazador’s Ascension, in addition to your siblings’ and yours of course.”

The information smacked him in the chest. And every one of his companions seemed to stop breathing. “Seven-thousand souls…” Gale barely whispered in horrified reverence. Astarion rolled his eyes, of course the Wizard couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“But there is more you should know, my friends. Cazador has sampled some, a mere sliver, of the power the Vampire Ascendant will possess once the Rite is completed. That’s how he faced the thin light of dawn, how his spawn could appear in your rooms, how he could subdue that menacing and beautiful future bride of yours, Astarion.”

“I’d prefer if you quit spying on us, strange devil,” Astarion’s nostrils flared. “But since you’ve seen so much, any last warnings or advice for once?”

The black, molten form of Raphael suddenly looked very serious. “Take care of his bite,” he warned with deadly tone. “One fang through the skin, and the necrotic magic of the Ascendant will take hold, death will be slow but inevitable, allowing for the Vampire Lord enough time to decide, to torture or to turn his victim…. But there will be no amount of magic that can prevent that fate.”

Every breath held tight, even Astarion. Dread formed over his slow-beating heart, arms aching to hold her one more time. Heavy silence fell, once again broken. “By Silvanus,” Halisin sighed.

“Just remember, it wasn’t Silvanus who warned you, Astarion, it was me…” Raphael’s rippling voice chuckled into nothing as the apparition faded as well.

“For fucks sake…” Karlach bemoaned their situation as she loaded arrows into her crossbow. “Nobody is getting bitten today, dammit.”

“No,” Astarion rolled his shoulders and flashed them a smile… the deadliest they had ever seen, more fangs than mirth, more darkness in his eyes than crimson as he glanced one more time where his love had been held. “But someone is going to be turned inside out for what they have done to me and my love.” He unsheathed his shortsword and her glittering dagger with a hiss of metal. “I can promise you that.”

Air stung with magic, stank with rot. He could feel the scars on his back stinging, glimpsing the way his six siblings hung suspended by magic, their own scars aglow with infernal power.

But that wasn’t what his eyes searched for. The second he spied her at the bottom of the stairs, her skin pale and fiery hair tangled, he couldn’t stop. Astarion flew headlong into the danger, the second her silver eyes locked into his, a smile of love and relief and bloodlust crossed her own face, he only hastened all the more.

Cazador held her firm, her body clutched against his chest, arms bound before her with simple rope. “The prodigal son returns,” his Master called, even as Astarion panted and rushed with blade and dagger drawn. “You're so predictable, boy, so easy to break and crack into pieces.”

A roar in his throat, her bright dagger raised over his head, he was ready to strike. Until Cazador waved that massive staff, a wall of hot magic, singeing and red, slammed into him. He was so close, barely an arm’s reach from her… from him. But glowing red sigils burned around his wrists, his breath catching as it scorched in his throat. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“Only if you don’t let me do it first,” Cordehlia hissed and thrashed, elbowing the vampire in his chest. To no effect.

“It’s going to be quite hard to do that, now that my will has wrapped itself around you again, boy.”

The circlets of red grew brighter, Astarion grunting as he bit his teeth firmly shut. He wouldn’t give Cazador the satisfaction of another scream or grunt in pain. “Fuck you,” he ground out against the agony rushing through his body. “You have me, let her go, you bastard.”

“I’ll let her go, once she witnesses you fulfilling your true destiny, thankless child.” Cazador cackled, waving that fearsome staff of his to intensify the hissing sounds of flesh burning, increasing the glow of those shackles on her love’s wrists. “You were made to be consumed.”

“Astarion!” Cordehlia cried, wrestling against the iron hold around her frame. “No, you were made to destroy, my love. You were made in the darkness under pressure like adamantine, just like me. You were made to avenge yourself against him….”

“Shut up, you whore,” Cazador gripped his hand around her mouth, but she bit through his pale, flaky skin, only to yell louder once that vampire squealed in pain.

“He killed your parents, he beat me from your memory, used you, defiled you, and yet we found each other again. You will fight, my love, fight and win, Astar—“

That cold, steely grip clutched around her throat, and Cordehlia sputtered for air beneath it.

Astairon’s body writhed, twisting and strengthening as he grit his teeth and closed his eyes. Every iota of his love for her boiled to the surface, every bit of his rage burst from inside him, his need to be free, to be with her exploded from within. Hissing, shattering, the binding magic broke from his wrists. The sigils of his infernal scars decimated in an instant, and Astarion stretched his arms and bared his fangs. The only thing brighter than his teeth was that dagger still held firmly in his fingers.

Freed.

“Impossible…” Cazador snarled, his fingers releasing from her throat enough for Cordehlia to gasp in some air. “Even now, you resist? Foolish, stupid boy and his foolish, stupid whore.” Long fingers gripped into her hair and pulled her head sharply to the side, her neck bones almost cracking at the force. “You should have known your place, child.”

Astarion’s eyes seemed to watch it all happen so slowly… the way her hands opened, her eyes locked on her dagger in his grip… the narrowing of her gaze, ordering him to toss it wordlessly….

It happened so quickly, so slowly at once. That bright dagger sailed through the air, unwavering from his dexterous grip until it landed square in her outstretched hand. A smile crossed his face as she held it firm and fast, turning it to sink it into the soft belly behind her. A satisfied slick noise filed the dungeon as it sank home.

But her face flashed from triumph to agony. From bloodlust to torment. Astarion’s eyes flew from her perfect lips, her shining eyes to the set of fangs that now buried in her neck.

Watching in horror as Cazador sank his deadly fangs in her flesh.

Instantly, he released that bite, dagger buried in his gut through his ostentatious jerkin. The vampire stumbled back, that nefarious staff of his falling to the ground. But as their companions descended on his old master with light spells and damaging blows, Astarion could only move slowly, as if trapped in quicksand, reaching to catch her.

Her body was shaking, necrotic streaks already darkening the shallow bite on her neck. Perfect pale skin stained dark, her beautiful face gathering beads of sweat as the poison already crept through her veins. Astarion could only cradle her, warm tears finally dripping down his cheek, lips unable to say much of anything but the music of her name over and over again as he held her against his chest.

Throat bobbing, she swallowed through the agony, “I got him, didn’t I?”

“Yes, my love,” a feeble smile and tear streaked voice replying as he stroked her hair. All he could hear was the slowing beat of her heart, the din of battle beyond them so distant, so… unimportant compared to finally holding her once more.

Maybe only one more time.

Halsin crowded over them, “Bring him here,” he ordered to the rest of their party. Scuffling and dragging, slung between Karlach and Wyll, Cazador hung limp, but still alive. Or undead. Halsin pawed at Astarion’s shoulder, something warm and assuring and irritating about it all at once. “It’s for you to decide.”

Astarion looked up, eyes burning with hate as he locked his gaze on his old master. But he couldn’t bring himself to let her go, not with the way her arms clung around his chest, the way her heart seemed to slow beneath his own ribs. “Do something, Cleric,” he snarled, gesturing with his head at how his love began to visibly shiver.

“Astarion…” Shadowheart tried to cajole, but he would not take that patronizing tone.

“Halsin, Gale,” he snapped their names. “What good is all that magic and faith if you can’t heal her.”

“The devil said it wasn’t curable, but I could try to slow the poison,” Halsin finally sighed. “But there is only one solution to this…”

“My death,” Cordehlia shuddered, teeth chattering as her flesh began to grow impossibly cold. “I can… feel it. Have dreaded this for so long…”

“Or your undeath….” He whispered, just to himself. Astarion glanced up, taking in the carnage and misery and atrocity around them. Blood-slicked stone, throbbing infernal magic still holding his siblings bound by their scars. That one missing space meant for his death, waiting to be filled to complete the Rite…. “Do what you can to buy us time, Druid,” he ordered, lifting her shaking body towards the Elf, to place in his arms, carefully like the tender babe she was to him. “I have matters to attend to.”

“Astarion,” Cordehlia moaned as she was moved. “What are you d-doing?”

“What I promised you,” he knelt as Halsin rested her against him on the ground, cradling her in his large, warm arms. “I’m going to save you, to protect you, to make you my Bride.”

“Seven… th-thousand…” she managed to say before a wrack of pain shot through her body and made her teeth snap tight.

Her love’s palm cradled her cheek, his breath cold on her lips as he kissed her so, so softly. “Seven-thousand souls is a small price to pay to save your one, beautiful one,” he murmured.

“A-starion…” she managed to hiss through her torment.

“Yes, my darling?” he replied, lips still brushing hers even as they, too, grew cold.

“Use… my dagger,” she swallowed.

Astarion smiled, a kiss on her forehead, cold and wet with her body’s agony. “Anything for you, my treasure.”

Standing, he crossed to that monster, his former tormentor, and threw Cazador’s tunic up over his head. Raising at last, he found Gale’s hand so close, that bloodied, bright dagger in his offering palm. “Use the tadpole,” the Wizard nodded. “See your own scars, and it should suffice to appease the Infernal contract.” He winced as he heard his own words. “Do it for Cordehlia.”

Never before had he disrobed faster, armor and shirt lying at his feet as he took that warm blade in his hand. Astarion could say nothing, had to ignore the way he could just see from the corner of his eyes at how the Druid tried every kind of magic to draw the poison out. Shaking his head, he kept that focus locked on the sight of his own back, seeing his scars through Gale’s eyes. But all the while, he kept his pointed ear trained on Cordhelia’s heart, how it sometimes raced and sometimes slowed. And it only spurred his own markings to be that much sharper and more precise in that monster’s flesh. A matter of moments, and he finally pronounced his work completed.

He picked up that horrific staff, ignoring the way it vibrated in his hand, overwhelmed by its rush of magic as it coursed up his arm and down his spine. Power like nothing he could have ever imagine flooded his body, instantly his tongue danced over the words of the Profane Rite, put on his lips by the magic in the air. He could have watched with twisted pleasure as Cazador’s nearly-broken body flew to be suspended in his own place. He could have savored the way magic raced up and down every nerve as the spell tripped off his tongue, as the staff seemed to move his body of its own.

No, all he could watch was Cordehlia’s silver eyes fluttering, fighting to stay open to watch him ascending. All he could savor was the way his heart filled with the promise of a power so overwhelming, he could finally do something worthy of her. Finally able to save her. Feeling it finally begin to beat for her again.

The world around him seemed to still, to sharpen and explode all at once. Dropping that staff to the ground, he rushed to her once more. Her hand trembled in his grasp, skin waxy and cold. Halsin’s big green eyes looked back at him, grief stricken and saying more than words could. He passed her feeble body into Astarion’s outstretched arms as he crouched on the dirty floor beside them. Her head lolled against his shoulder, silver eyes half shut, forced open to looking into his handsome face until the end.

“You’ll have to fight poison with poison,” the Druid smiled weakly, trying to reassure the Ascendant being before him that radiated magic, Astarion’s skin paler than death and eyes glowing like demonic flame.

Astarion nodded, he didn’t want to do this here. Not in a dungeon, not in his old home of such torment, and certainly not in front of all the others. But there was no choice now, and the price paid was too great to fail now. “Cordehlia,” he whispered in her ear, “thank you for trusting me, I just need you to trust me a little further.”

She managed a nod with her eyes still barely opened.

Blood filled his mouth, and fangs sank into the holes Cazador had made. His mouth sucked the tainted blood from her veins, almost souring his stomach as he drank until the taste of that monster’s magic was gone from her body.

Until there was only the taste of her on his tongue again.

And yet, even as she showed all the signs of being bloodless, her heart beat steadied with his magic now in her veins. It would be enough for now, enough to start her own rite, enough to keep her from true death for a while. He stood, feeling waves of power rippling from his muscles in new and strange ways. Suddenly far too aware of the way his heart thumped in his chest again—rapid and alarmed and living. Too ironic, too sad to be truly appreciated as her own pulse continued to slow. “We have to get her back to the Elfsong,” he pronounced, blood dripping down his chin, standing to carry her tenderly in his arms. “I will need to complete my work in privacy.”

Halsin cocked a brow. “Very well,” he nodded, leading them all back through the halls until they could reach the brush of daylight once more, followed by a simple teleportation back to their suite of rooms.

Not a second was wasted. Not now that he was so close. Ascended. Freed. More power at the tips of fingers than any of his kind had ever possessed. And yet his happiness laid unmoving against his chest, nearly lifeless against his now-beating heart.

Astarion kicked open the door to a set of rooms apart, setting her on the dark, postered bed. Quickly, he bit her wrist, sucking more and more of her sweet vintage straight from her veins.

His heart broke at all of what could have been, at all the various futures and paths that faded from view. She wasn’t even conscious to enjoy this union, to feel the way their essences combined into one, stronger and equal and powerful the more he drank her down. She couldn’t hear the little praises he poured over her, her ears deaf to every time he called her his love, his darling, his treasure, the mate of his heart and soul…

But he poured them over her barely-conscious face all the same, peppering her face with bloodied kisses even as it grew white as a sheet.

One last bite was all it would take. This love of his life, near dead and almost lost to him a second time, she would be his forever.

As his fangs sunk into her neck, marking afresh the scars that had formed there over their weeks reunited, he drank his fill. Breaking away at last once she neared the very dregs of her life, Astarion stopped. He was breathless, his stomach full to near bursting, even though it no longer throbbed with a spawn’s hunger.

Hand shaking, he brought his wrist to his teeth, tearing a slit in own flesh to place against her chalky lips. He could sense it entering her body, dripping down her throat to pool in her own belly. But he held his breath all the same.

Body rigid, he had never been more afraid than right now, not as his love’s life hung in the balance, not as she counted on his power to bring her back into the same realm as him, even if it was under the veil of undeath.

Her lips stirred first against his wound, just a little movement, just a slight suck. Crimson eyes flashed open were once silver ones shined at him, and Corehelia smiled as she sucked down his blood.

Astarion finally breathed, his chest easing at last.

His bride was arising.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

I do know that Ascension can be divisive, however I hope this gives some firmer ground to stand on… spoonfuls of “Burn the world” for his love and “Touch her and you die” make it go down smoother, I hope. No more long lost love💞

Aeterna Amantes

3 more days until Chapter 19: Dark Kissing, when she awakens🩸💞🗡️

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starry-eyes-love · 3 months

Text

Dance with Me

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader, post-outbreak. Ch 8.5 of my series “My Journey to You”, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Summary | Joel can't sleep and thinks about the first time he danced with you, back in the Boston QZ three years prior. He was too afraid to tell you back then how he felt, but he speaks his mind now to you as you sleep.

A/N: This is my 200 follower appreciation post. Thank you so much guys for all of the love and support I’ve gotten within this past year. It means the world to me that all of you love this little slice of fanfiction/ world that I have created. Thank you!

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI. Age gap (unspecified, but 20s/50s), language, fluffy (like a ton), sexual tension, tiny bit of angst (if you really squint), carefree Joel, Joel dancing with you (it needs its own warning), soft Joel, Joel soothes you, terms of endearment, love bomb dropped… and that’s about it I think.

Word Count: 3.4 K

You gently shifted in your sleep, mumbling to yourself yet again. Joel soothed you and kissed your temple once again, trying to get you to go back to sleep. “I’m sorry for not telling ya sooner, but I love you baby. And I promise I'll spend the rest of my life makin’ it up t’ya.” Joel said, gently whispering in your ear. You let out a small content sigh and said, “I’ll hold ya to that promise Miller” and then you drifted back off to sleep yet again.

Joel laid beside you in bed while watching you sleep. Your lips were slightly parted and you were breathing slowly and evenly, in and out with each breath. You wore an old, worn out t-shirt that once belonged to Joel, and underwear for sleep shorts. The old t-shirt was your favorite shirt to sleep in as it felt like the comforts of home, if home was a thing in the apocalypse. You were lying on your stomach, hair tossed messy to the side, blankets draped over your lower half as you quietly slept. Joel, lying awake, felt the tug of his heart at the peacefulness of you. He wanted all of this to work out; for you, him, and Ellie to be a family. But how can one be a family in a world that was meant to destroy?

Joel turned to lie on his back, arm bent up and over his shoulder. His head rested on his forearm as he stared straight up at the ceiling. His mind was working overtime tonight, unable to shut down to fall asleep. You had been asleep for hours, peacefully resting in the quiet world. Where do we go from here when spring hits? Joel wondered silently to himself. You three were slowly running out of supplies, and food was getting harder and harder to find. The snow was deep, making hiking or walking almost impossible in certain areas. This limited your options, which put a strain on this little life that you had built. Death was once again staring all of you in the face, mocking and testing to see if you could survive.

Joel heard you whimper slightly, eyes moving rapidly while shut. You were lost deep in dreamland once again, and tonight Joel had hoped it was pleasant dreams that you were having. As he silently watched you sleep, he couldn't help but feel protective over you. You were his Angel, his baby, his future wife that he loved. You counted on him to be strong, to be a protector for you and Ellie. Joel was faced with difficult choices ahead of him, trying to figure out how to keep the three of you alive.

When Joel heard you quietly whimper yet again, he turned on his side. He gently reached out and soothed you by saying, “shh baby, I'm here and you’re safe.” He then lightly kissed your head, inhaling your sweet scent once again. Joel could get drunk off your scent, from the tenderness of your body, and the warmth of your heart. You smelled like vanilla and sugar, a delicate cupcake. One that he desperately wanted to taste and bury himself deep within. He wanted to wrap himself around you, so neither one of you would know where one person ended and the next one began.

“Joel, dance with me,” you said, still dreaming, whimpering slightly to yourself.

With a small chuckle, he ran his hand through your hair while whispering slowly in your ear “ok darlin’, I'll dance with you.” He then started to hum the song the two of you danced to a few years ago in the Boston QZ. As he hummed the tune, you relaxed and sighed in your sleep, feeling safe and content once again. Joel smiled to himself, remembering the details behind that fateful day where he showed you a piece of himself, a piece of what he was like before.

Flashback to Boston QZ

3 Years Prior

You rushed into the room, shrieking to yourself at the prospect of finding a record player once again. “Joel look” you said, jumping for joy at your find.

“Damn it woman, ya stay next to me and wait until I say t’go forward, understood?” Joel snapped, coming into the room that you just rushed into, without checking the room first.

With an eye roll you said, “Yes, Sir,” not wanting to argue with him.

Joel froze at your statement, not wanting to admit what your statement did to him. How it made his pants a little tighter in the front. Your innocence and excitement in life shouldn't be something that made him feel attraction, but yet it did. The thought of him showing you things, how to do things, made him stiff in his jeans. You were practically a kid to him, even though you were technically an adult. You just were a much younger adult than he. He was old enough to be your father and because of this he knew he shouldn't be attracted to wanting you the way he did. None of this made any sense to him, especially since he had Tess. But here you were, practically jumping for joy, bouncing around like a goddamn kid in a candy store at the thought of finding some old record player that probably didn't even work anymore.

“Can we-”

“No,” Joel said with finality in his voice.

“Maybe we could just-”

“Didn't ya hear me, I said no. We're not here for some stupid record player. Damn thing probably doesn't even work anymore.” With that statement Joel saw your eyes glaze over with tears. Joel didn't mean to say the word stupid, to call the thing that you were excited about stupid.

“Darlin’, I-”

“No you're right, it is stupid. I am stupid.” You said with venom lacing your words as tears welled up into your eyes. “God forbid I find one thing, one fucking thing, that excites me and makes me feel alive again when I feel anything but. I know why we're here, what we came for. You're forgetting that I have brought you more money, delivered more goods than anyone else in this God forsaken QZ. So excuse me if I want to laugh again for just a second, and not feel numb anymore. You can thank the asshole that carved his dumb mark in my leg and forced his knife to my throat that made me feel numb when all I wanted to do was-”

You stopped yourself suddenly, looking over at Joel who was now glaring at you with concerned eyes. You've never spouted off to him like this before, and you never, ever, have been honest with him about how you felt after David attacked you. Joel had asked you countless times of how you felt after he rescued you two years prior, asked if you wanted to talk about it. Each time you told him to ‘just forget about it.’ Dwelling in the past wasn't something that either of you could afford to do, so you were shocked that you mentioned anything now.

“Uh Joel, just forget what I-”

“Wasn't gonna say anything,” he said, still looking at you with concern. “If ya wanna talk ‘bout it, I'll listen.”

With a long sigh you shook your head and said “I know Joel, and thank you. I just-I don't want to talk about it. Let's- let's just get what we came here for, and then go.” After you spoke you hung your head and marched out the door.

Joel heard you sniffling in the other room. He found himself glancing at the record player, the one he just scolded you for wanting to take. He tried convincing himself that it wasn’t worth picking up and carrying back, that it was pointless to have something like this. But he couldn’t stand seeing you so upset. He internally scolded himself for his actions as he quickly packed it up to take with him as a gift for you.

“Joel, are you ready?” You asked, not wanting to be yelled at again. When he didn't answer, you yelled saying “JOEL.”

“Jesus woman, I'm right here, ya don't need to shout.” he said, his pack full and bulging.

“What did you get?” You asked, while looking at his back.

“Found some medical stuff, now come on” he said as he walked out the door.

Later that night you were laying in bed, looking up at the ceiling when you heard a knock on your door. Your back was sore from carrying a lot of stuff, and Joel was in no better shape when you returned. You were freshly washed, Joel insisted that you use the shower first when you arrived back home. You had been staying with him and Tess since he rescued you from David. Every time you thought of a reason to leave his house, Joel would always come up with an excuse to have you stay. After the first year, you stopped trying to find reasons to leave and just accepted the fact that you now lived in the guest bedroom of Joel and Tess’s house. When you heard Joel knock again you gently said “come in” and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever news he was going to tell you.

“I made some dinner, ya want to come and eat with me?” he said, examining the wood construction of the door and lightly running a finger over the rough edges. Joel seemed timid tonight, something that you weren’t used to.

“You cooked?” You asked as you slowly sat up, raising an eyebrow at him. When he nodded his head you teased, “and the house didn't burn down?”

Joel rolled his eyes at your quip, responding back, “No wiseass, it didn't. Now ya hungry or not?”

You quickly got off the bed, stomach audibly growling at the smell that was coming from the kitchen. When you arrived, you saw two plates with spaghetti on them, two waters and alcoholic drinks (whiskey), with about a hundred candles all lit around the living room and attached dining room area. As soon as you saw the scene in front of you, you felt your face fall.

“What's the matter?” Joel asked, puzzled, wondering if he did something wrong.

“Oh nothin' I-I didn't know that you and Tess were going to have a night to yourselves. I'll just grab my food and eat someplace else I guess,” replying meekly and hanging your head at the fact that you once again felt like the third wheel. With a dramatic sigh you took a step forward to go find something to put your food on. As you stepped forward towards the stove, Joel reached out and gently grabbed your waist, pulling you back into him.

As soon as your back hit his chest you froze. You could feel his strong body behind you, molding to your curves in the way that you loved. Usually Joel wouldn’t outright grab you like this and hold you firm against his body, unless you were about to search a house and decided not to listen to him. It was his way of stopping you before you’d endanger yourself. This though was outside of the norm for him, considering that you weren’t about to search a house for supplies.

You felt Joel gently stroke your skin underneath your t-shirt, a t-shirt you stole from him tonight to sleep in. He was slowly rubbing gentle circles on your skin, slightly gripping your waist every time you tried to move away from him. He was silently telling you to stay tight against his body until he said it was safe for you to leave. You relaxed into his touch, head slowly leaning back as you melted into him. You felt the strong and prominent bulge behind you, fitting tight against the curve of your ass. You gave your hips a tiny roll as you heard Joel let out a low growl in your ear at the sensation. Your head was swimming with a combination of his manly scent, warm food, and arousal, and because of this you didn’t realize that you had slightly whimpered at his touch.

Joel, whispering gently in your ear said, “Tess ain’t home darlin’. She ain't gonna be here all night. This is just for you and me.” He then growled in your ear while lightly nipping at the soft spot below your ear, the spot that makes your toes curl and your clit throb. Joel lightly laughed as he pulled away from you, looking at you with dark eyes saying, “come on darlin’, I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

You don't know how it happened, but somehow Joel was sitting next to you at the table, thighs touching, hand running soothing circles on your leg from time to time as you both ate. You two were also talking softly, occasionally laughing hysterically at the jokes that Joel was making. Joel Fucking Miller, Mr. Grumpy Man, was laughing and cracking jokes with you. You didn’t realize how easy the conversation could flow with him. It was like the whiskey you both were drinking, it felt smooth.

“You know I don't think I've ever felt this good talking with you before, ever” you say, slowly sipping your drink.

“Yeah well, I reckon it's cause you don't know the real me darlin’.” Joel says, slowly reaching out and grabbing his drink while brushing his knuckles over the back of your hand once again. Joel was touchy feely tonight, something that you've never seen him do with you. You didn't know if it was because he missed Tess, if he was just enjoying himself with you, if it was the alcoholic drinks that the two of you were drinking, or if it was a combination of all three. You weren't going to complain, you loved the attention he was giving you and by the looks of it, he was also enjoying the attention you were giving him.

Dinner had gone well and somehow you found yourself sitting on the couch, side by side, thighs touching as you slowly sipped your whiskey. You were on your third drink of the night, feeling loose and relaxed, wanting to keep the conversation going, but forgetting that your mouth needed a filter.

“I heard the fight that you and Tess had last week. I heard her leave.” You said, wanting to decide if his closeness was just him being lonely.

“Yeah well, shit happens I guess.” Joel said, leaning back and opening his legs a bit wider as he leaned into the couch, placing his one hand on the inside of his leg. He was looking down at the glass that he was holding in his lap, slowly sipping at it and trying to relax.

“Do you wanna tell me why she left, or am I just going to have to guess?” you said boldly.

Joel, taking another slow sip of his drink said, “well darlin’, ya better start guessing then.”

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you turned to him and raised an eyebrow. You knew the reason why she left, you heard her scream at him as you laid in your bedroom unable to sleep that night. You were hoping that Joel would tell you, admit to you the problem that happened, that he moaned out another woman’s name when he was fucking Tess. The longer you looked at him though, the more stone-like his features became.

“Joel I-��

“Don’t” he said, shaking his head, while taking another sip.

“Joel, I heard the argument that you and Tess had, and I-”

Joel’s eyes widened at the realization that you heard the argument, that you heard him moan your name when he was fucking Tess. “Quit it, will ya,” he said, embarrassment finding a home on his face. “I don't wanna fucking talk about it.” “It's embarrassing,” he mumbled to himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him say it, but you could.

“Joel, I think we should talk about it.”

“Talk about it,” he said with a sarcastic laugh. “There ain’t nothin’ to talk about. I moaned out another woman’s name in bed when I was fuckin’ Tess and she almost ripped my balls off cause of it.” What Joel didn’t say was that ‘the woman’s name was you baby.’

“Who’s name was it?” you asked curiously. You thought you heard your name that night on his lips, but you couldn't be sure. When Joel looked at you, you could tell that he wasn’t going to say it. With a shake of his head and a huff he quickly changed the subject, trying to get you to focus on something that wasn’t so personal.

“Got a present for you, thought you’d like this so I brought it here.” He said, standing up and walking over to the other side of the room. He motioned for you to come over by him. “Thought you'd like this present darlin'” he said, putting the needle on the record. As soon as the sound started you heard Donnie Iris “Ah Leah” song come on. You squealed and ran over by him, jumping for joy that he brought back the record player you found. That was what was in his pack today, and why you had to carry double the load in yours.

‘It's been a long, long time, you're such a sight. You're looking better than a body has a right to. Don't you know we're playing with the fire. But we can stop this burning desire Leah. Ah! Leah! Here we go again.

As the song continued to play you felt Joel grab your drink and set it down on the coffee table. He then grabbed your hands and started dancing fast with you to the beat of the song. He was swaying his hips back and forth, spinning you around, moving his arms as he danced with you, singing the lyrics.

‘I see your lips and I wonder who's been kissing them. I never knew how badly I was missing them. We both know we're never going to make it. But when we touch, we never have to fake it Leah. Ah! Leah! Here we go again.’

The longer the song went, the more Joel was relaxing, enjoying himself. You were laughing, moving your body to the beat of the music as you watched Joel shake his hips with his belt unbuckled, wanting to be himself and comfortable for a change. You have never seen him this comfortable or laid back before, and honestly it stirred something deep within you. You quickly switched to where he was behind you and you were in front of him, swaying your hips, slowly grinding your ass on his crotch.

“Show me how your daughter was made Joel,” you said, grinding back into him.

“Fuck, I’ll do more than that darlin’” he said, nudging your backside while grabbing your hips, swaying you back and forth to the music. Joel then whispered the lyrics in your ear again.

‘Baby, it's no good, we're just asking for trouble. I can touch you, but I don't know how to love you. It ain't no use, we're headed for disaster. Our minds said no, but our hearts were talking faster Leah. Ah! Leah!’

As the song slowly started to end, Joel was still twirling you around, smiling ear to ear. You were laughing, both of you feeling carefree. It was the first time the both of you felt like you could breathe and have fun again in a world that was full of death and destruction. For the next hour you two danced together, having fun, taking just one night in life to forget and have it for yourselves.

Present Day

Joel laid in bed, slowly stroking your hair and remembering the last time he danced with you. He was internally scolding himself, telling himself that he was such an idiot for not telling you back then how much you meant to him. He also hated that he didn’t kiss you or take you to bed that night like you both wanted him to. You gently shifted in your sleep, mumbling to yourself yet again. Joel soothed you and kissed your temple once again, trying to get you to go back to sleep.

“I’m sorry for not telling ya sooner, but I love you baby. And I promise I'll spend the rest of my life makin’ it up t’ya.” Joel said, gently whispering in your ear.

You let out a small content sigh and said, “I’ll hold ya to that promise Miller” and then you drifted back off to sleep yet again.

Joel chuckled to himself that you heard him, even in your half sleep state. With another smile plastered on his face, he leaned over and kissed you gently on the lips, thanking the heavens that you were here with him. He then whispered a few lines of his re-done version of the lyrics of the song you two danced to. He wrote them the next morning after your night of fun of dancing as he watched you sleep even back then softly. “It ain't no use baby, we were headed for disaster. My mind told me no, but my heart talked a hell of a lot faster. I love you.”

-End Story-

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3laze @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

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soulcandi · 6 months

Text

𝑶𝑵𝑳𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑲 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝑬 | 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭

synopsis: dalton doesn't have the guts to make a move on the cute sorority girl that he's been stalking since orientation, but the demonic entity constantly peering over his shoulder does.

warnings: probs 17+ (just to be careful), stalking, obsessive behavior, paranormal type-shit, reader is stupid and also hot (think jennifer from that scene in jennifer's body where she's flirting with the band), the smallest hint of somnophilia, demonic possession, identity theft (lol), extremely dubious consent, dalton is definitely a little ooc, written with afab!reader in mind, y/n gets referred to as a girl.

a/n: title ripped from the ghost song. i love me some goth masked men. forgot the name of the frat so i just made one up. also, i just imagined a random dark spirit possessing his body, not the one explicitly shown in the film. but you guys do whatever you want. also, this is probably really cringy. I wrote most of it on 🍃 and didn't bother to proofread.

word count: 2078

Dalton’s favorite hobby was a tricky thing. How could he bring himself to tell Chris or anyone else in his life that the first thing he wanted to do after a long day of classes was shut off all of the lights in his dorm and count back from ten until his spirit was standing over your bed, watching you sleep?

How could he ever come up with an answer for how he somehow knew every last intimate detail about you despite never having spoken to you a single day in his life?

The easiest solution was to keep his hobby a dirty little secret right up until he graduated and moved a million miles away from campus. It’s not like he could ever look you in the eye anyway—the cute little sorority girl who approached him shyly during orientation and asked him to help carry a mini-fridge up the staircase of the Kappa Delta house. You were all glitter and smiles and infectious laughter and ignoring you was like trying to ignore sunlight. It just wasn’t done.

Dalton hadn’t smiled since long before the funeral, but you coaxed one from his lips like it was the easiest thing in the world. It was impossible for him to up and forget something like that, especially when, as he went to wipe the sweat from his clammy palms, there was pink glitter plastered across the lap of his jeans. You effortlessly infiltrated every aspect of his life, pumping through his veins like some drug he couldn’t name. His entire world revolved around you and the best part about it was that you didn’t have the faintest clue.

Watching you was more of an addiction than a hobby to Dalton. Not in person, god. Never. The last thing he ever wanted to do was freak you out—to scare you. But what was the harm in flinging his backpack across the floor, shutting off all the lights, and letting his spirit travel to your room on the second floor of the Kappa Delta sorority house? He wasn’t hurting anyone by sitting on the corner of your bed while you flipped through your homework booklets and nibbled on the tips of your perfectly polished fingernails.

Dalton’s favorite moments were when he caught you in deep sleep, tossing and turning in one of those silky little numbers that he instantly grew to love. You had them in every color, alternating throughout the week. They hugged you in such a dangerously perfect way, riding up over your plush thighs as you mumbled under a thick blanket of dreams. He made a home for himself in the furry pink armchair across from your bed (when it wasn’t stacked high with laundry, that is), treating himself by watching you breathe. It was mesmerizing how the fabric would ripple across your body while your chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.

It only took a few days for that guilty pleasure to bleed into his weekly routine. Dalton only realized things were starting to get out of hand when he found himself drawing you.

Doodles on the corners of his syllabi turned into sketches in his notebook, which eventually turned into 24x30 charcoal portraits that took up most of the wall space in his dorm room. Art was his second nature and as soon as he returned from one of his nightly haunts, he was powerless to control the charcoal nub that somehow found its way into his hand. Dalton had to immortalize you on paper. Otherwise, he would have no choice but you seek you out in the dead of night over and over again until your image was burned into the back of his eyelids.

A full week after he first saw you during freshman orientation—informative sorority flyers stacked tall in your arms, barely hiding the Greek letters stamped across the front of your cropped shirt—he turned in his very first sketch of you for an art critique. Professor Amagan was pleasantly surprised by his change in subject matter. Goodbye bloody red door, hello sleeping beauty.

She had wanted to pin it up in the showcase at the front of the arts building but the thought of you ever stumbling upon it made a fiery hot wave of mortification spill over Dalton’s entire body. What would you even say to a lifesize portrait of your own sleeping body drawn by someone you’ve never spoken to before? He would count himself lucky if he wasn’t expelled on the spot.

Dalton hastily accepted his passing grade and shoved the charcoal drawing to the very bottom of his portfolio, never to see the light of day again. Unless, of course, he was cram-studying for midterms and couldn’t afford the time to go and visit you. In this instance, he would lock his door and prop you up beside his desk to steal quick glances at while he worked. But it never sated that itch inside of him—the one that reared its head when he caught the faintest ribbons of your perfume in the air as he marched through the courtyard with his head down.

Dalton wasn’t proud of himself. Not for this, anyway. White hot shame burned at his heart whenever he caught your eye from across the dining hall or the library by accident. You were forbidden fruit on campus—the sweetheart of the most powerful fraternity and the stuff of everyone’s dreams besides. He should have felt forever guilty for stealing your private moments for his own pleasure. But fuck if you didn’t make it so hard for him to quit.

Tonight, like every other night this week, Dalton flicked off his bedside lamp and yanked the nightlight out of the wall, plunging the room into thick and heavy blackness. He counted back from ten until he no longer felt the weight of his physical body holding him down, then blinked his eyes open to see a world illuminated with an otherworldly faint blue light.

The walk to sorority row only ever felt like seconds. The spirit realm was like a highway in that sense. He slipped through the front door of the Kappa Delta house like a ghost. He was a ghost. And you were his all-time favorite haunt.

You were already asleep when he crept to the door at the end of the hallway with your name plastered across the frame in glittery bubble letters. You always went to sleep with your desktop lava lamp flipped on. It painted your face in a warm glow as you slept and Dalton couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were just as afraid of the dark as he was. The thought coaxed a pleasant shiver down his spine. Maybe you were just waiting for someone like him to come around and tear that fear to shreds.

Your face was buried in your arms, one leg hiked up to your waist over the sheets. A massive sleepshirt clung to your frame, slipping off of one shoulder just enough to highlight the fact that you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

Dalton bristled at the sound of something soft and light floating through the air and reached down to pull the pair of boxy headphones off of your ears, cupping one side close to his face.

♫ “In the silence of your room, In the darkness of your dreams, you must only think of me, there can be no in-between.” ♫

You rolled over, limbs twitching with a sleepy moan as you subconsciously turned your back to the light. Dalton shook his head with a quiet chuckle, folding the headphones and setting them down on your bedside table. You shouldn’t go to sleep with your music so loud, he silently chastised you. It wasn’t good for you. But he honestly would have said anything to make this feel right—to relieve himself of even just an ounce of the guilt he felt for standing there above you in your most vulnerable state.

He liked to think that you felt him there watching over you like some sick and twisted guardian angel. Maybe you actually took notice of all of the little things that he did for you when you weren’t even aware that he was in the room. Killing spiders, plugging in your phone when you were too sleepy to do it yourself, hiding contraband before the Kappa chapter president barged for a room sweep.

Dalton didn’t want to believe that someone could be so effortlessly and unknowingly perfect every single moment of their life. But here you were, leaning into his touch when he failed to fight the urge to stroke your jaw with the edge of his knuckle. A shaky breath shivered past his lips in response to your sleepy exhale.

You were so pliant. So defenseless. Swallowing thickly, Dalton took his opposite hand and brushed a flat palm over your exposed thigh, watching with sick fascination as goosebumps rose across your flesh in the wake of his gentle touches. He simply couldn’t help himself, only flinching when your face screwed up in that adorable way that it always did when someone dared to deny you of something you wanted.

Dalton paused with his hand outstretched toward your body, a sudden tidal wave of realization washing over him. God, I am such a creep.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered before realizing he’d spoken out loud and slapping a hand over his own mouth. He never knew if you could hear him when he passed between the realms like this, but just to be sure he always made a point of never saying anything until he was back in his own body.

You shifted again, pulling the blanket up over your chin to ward off the sudden chill that crept into your room.

What am I doing?

I need to get the hell out of here.

Dalton never considered quitting his little addiction cold turkey. But whatever spell you had put on him for the last few months had finally run its course and he was going to take back whatever semblance of dignity he could before it was too late.

The walk back to his dorm felt decades-long and he took the time to mull over everything in his head, searching for any way to make himself feel right about this. But it was hard to do anything other than mourn the loss of what had quickly become his saving grace while he navigated this new phase of his life. Portals and demons meant nothing to him as long as he could watch you sleep, knowing that he would be there to ward off anything that tried to hurt you.

Dalton stopped dead in his tracks outside his door. It had slid open with ease but the tension in the air was so thick that the thought of crossing the threshold made his blood run cold. His body was there, right in the corner where he left it earlier that night.

Only…hadn’t he been lying down in bed when he left to visit you? Why was his body now halfway across the room? And why was it moving?

“What the fuck?” he breathed, drawing out each syllable as he watched it blink. The eyes of his physical body shifted to an inky black for just a split second—he saw it—before they melted right back to blue. Dalton watched frozen in the doorway as the entity inhabiting his body glanced down to inspect the hands of its new vessel, turning them over to study his palms before squeezing them into tight fists.

Satisfied, its gaze fell to the doorway where he stood in spirit. It couldn’t see him, not truly. But it could still smell the horror oozing from him through the hole he had torn between the realms.

“Hey!” Dalton barked, but his voice was an echo that barely reached his own ears. It bounced off of the empty space all around him. The demon compelled his body forward, walking to the mirror on the other side of the dorm and leaning all of its weight against the glass. “That’s—hey!”

It combed a hand through its hair—his hair—and ran a slack hand over the bottom half of its face. An inhuman smirk grew over its lips and Dalton shivered as it made direct eye contact with him through the mirror, testing his voice like it had gone eons without a set of lungs to force its words through.

“You’re pathetic.”

#candywrites #insidious #insidious the red door #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fanfiction #x reader #fanfiction #insidious the red door fanfiction #dalton lambert #stay with me ghost #songfic

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 1 year

Text

i love exploring post-war!levi so much!! feel free to send me ideas for future segments of this series.

word count: 1.3k

notes: vague mentions of depression, suggestive themes

Until I See You Again (Ch. 2)

part 1 || part 3 (WIP)

♡

It was another day.

Damn.

Levi peeled his eyelids open and was met with the dull, empty ceiling above his bed. He felt that familiar heavy feeling in his heart that made it impossible to breathe. The first few times he woke up this way, he thought it was one of his injuries from the explosion that had failed to heal properly. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he realized that it was grief.

He didn’t want to wake up this way. He sighed to himself as he recalled the dream that he found himself having the night before. He didn’t commonly have dreams, even when he was able to fall asleep for an extended period of time. It was vivid. It almost felt real.

He recalled feeling that weight lifting off his chest upon looking into your eyes. He recalled finally feeling like he was living again upon pressing his lips against yours. He recalled the warmth that spread through his body as he finally embraced you within his arms.

As he stared at the ceiling, contemplating whether he had the energy to truly get up and get moving in a life he couldn’t be bothered to care about, his eyes widened as he felt someone shuffle next to him. He quickly looked at the other side of the bed, his breath getting momentarily caught in this throat as he fixed his gaze upon you.

You were alive. He wasn’t alone. It wasn’t a dream. It was real.

He rolled onto his side and weaved his arm around your waist, gently pulling you in tightly against his chest. He planted some kisses at the back of your head, burying his face into you as he shut his eyes again. Although he already knew he wouldn’t be falling back asleep, he found contentment in holding you against him.

His eyes fluttered open again as he felt you shuffling against him as you slowly rose back into consciousness.

“Morning,” he whispered to you, planting a small kiss on the top of your head.

You shuffled a bit more, squeezing yourself closer into him, vaguely mumbling something that somewhat sounded like a “good morning”.

Levi waited for you to settle before gently squeezing his arm as he hugged you from behind. He had woken up so devastated, believing that what had happened the previous night was a dream. He still felt himself desperately holding onto you, with the scene of your death playing repeatedly in his head. He needed to make sure you were real. He wasn’t going to lose you again.

“Lev’,” you mumbled quietly. “I can’t breathe.”

He suddenly realized just how hard he was hugging you against him and immediately loosened up.

“Shit,” he whispered. “Sorry, _____.”

You rolled over onto your other side so that you were facing him, with him placing his arm back down on your waist upon facing you. You ran your fingers down the side of his cheek, looking straight into his eyes.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” you mumbled.

He pulled you into a gentle kiss, which you quickly returned with greater force, connecting your bodies together. His lips were soft against yours and you grabbed at the back of his head to pull him closer, kicking the blanket off of you, before quickly climbing on top of him.

Your hands traveled up and down his chest, practically begging him to provide you with the intimacy that you had feared that you had lost forever. As your hands began to travel lower and lower, you felt his breath hitch in between your kisses as he grabbed at you to pull you closer against him.

The past few weeks involved the both of you waking up alone with heavy hearts with next to no motivation to start another miserable day—but now all that seemed to have been forgotten, at least in this moment. The only thing he could focus on was the liberating feeling of being able to feel you against him again.

~~~~~

The sun had long risen by the time you two finally got out of bed and began getting ready for the day. Levi stood in front of the mirror connected to his dresser, pulling on one of his dress shirts as he watched you disappear into the bathroom to shower.

He took a deep breath as he turned towards the mirror to button up his shirt, frowning when his eyes fell onto some of the scars that littered his body. Even seeing those smaller, subtler ones reminded him of the more obvious ones that actively impeded upon his own self-image or what he perceived to be his own quality of life. His right eye wasn’t functional, he had to get his right leg replaced, and he didn’t even want to start thinking about adjusting to life with his right hand only half-functioning. He had permanently changed and there was no denying that.

He ran his fingers through his hair as those thoughts of inadequacy plagued his mind and threw his other thoughts around as if there was a storm brewing in his mind. He knew that he didn’t have to fight Titans anymore. He didn’t have to constantly throw himself into life or death scenarios. He didn’t have to be Humanity’s Strongest Soldier™ anymore, but he couldn’t move on. It was such a strong part of who he was for so long, and letting that go seemed like an impossible task. Even with you by his side, he couldn’t see himself being able to shed the burdens of the past.

After making a light breakfast and taking some time to prepare yourself for the day, the two of you headed to your small apartment on the other side of town. Although you were expecting it, you immediately cringed as you essentially heard Levi’s face scrunch up in disgust upon entering your apartment. Keeping things organized was never your strong suit, but the weight of the past few weeks made it impossible to keep up with. If you were going through with moving in with him, you’d have to pay more active attention to your living habits.

With how many years that you’ve been moving around (whether it was flying through the sky with mobility gear or in this case, moving a bunch of boxes around), you would think that you’d know your limits and exactly how clumsy your movements could be. Both your hands were occupied as you carefully walked down the stairs, looking down to make sure your foot was meeting each step securely. Levi watched you warily as you unsteadily transported the boxes.

You had nearly made it all the way down the steps when your right foot got caught behind your left foot as you tried to step forward. By the time you’ve realized your mistake, you found yourself tumbling down the last few steps.

Levi immediately lunged forward to either catch you or stop your fall (or at least make sure you weren’t assaulted by the falling boxes). He didn’t manage either. His hands reached you half a second too late and all he could do was watch as your body hit the floor.

Cursing at himself, he immediately knelt down next to you as you gently rubbed your back in pain. You glanced at your hand that currently propped yourself up off the ground and saw that the friction from the carpet had left a scratch on your palm. You sat forward and lifted your hand, annoyed at yourself over your own clumsiness.

Levi extended his hand towards your other hand, grabbing it to help you get back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, rubbing at your wounded hand. You looked up at him once you noticed that he didn’t respond.

He was subtly frowning and his grip on your hand was tight, even after you had already gotten up. You could tell that he was tense and likely fuming inside. While he always scolded you for your recklessness or clumsiness in the past, now he just remained silent as he glanced down towards his wounded leg. He had never felt more useless.

“Chill out, Lev’,” you said as you gently rubbed the area around the scratch. “It’s a scratch, I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled quietly. “I know.”

You saw that he had a dark look over him as he avoided eye contact with you. He slowly let go of your hand and you immediately grabbed onto his again, prompting him to look at you.

“It’s a little out of reach, though,” you said as you shot him a small smile. “Would you mind helping me patch it up?”

Levi knew what you were doing. He was never able to mask as well in front of you. Regardless, he gave you a silent nod and the two of you walked over to the kitchen table.

You quietly watched as he sanitized the scratch on your hand, slightly wincing at the stinging that came right after. You watched closely as he elegantly maneuvered the material around, despite missing his two primary fingers on his right hand.

You silently chuckled to yourself as you added another item onto the never-ending list of Levi’s skillset. Of course he was ambidextrous.

He remained silent the entire time and a solemn look appeared on your face as you noticed him begin to drown underneath his own thoughts.

They were the same thoughts that plagued him every morning when he was forced to look into the mirror. He was not only different in terms of appearance. He was also different in terms of what he was able to do. If this was a year ago, he never would’ve failed in keeping you from falling. He used to be fast enough to react immediately to ambushes, but that was clearly no longer the case.

Levi Ackermann was consistently hailed as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier™, but now, he couldn’t even save his significant other from falling down the stairs. He felt pathetic. Everything was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had been careless in the explosion that had cost him his fingers and eye. He was slow to act when he had lost the use of his leg. He couldn’t reasonably blame anyone but himself.

“Hey,” you said as you poked him to get his attention.

His facial expression was neutral, but you were able to tell how tense his body was. He waved your hand away in an annoyed fashion.

“What?” he asked quietly, frowning while still avoiding making eye contact with you.

“Talk to me,” you said, turning him towards you to force him to look at you. “Please.”

Levi clenched his jaw as he ran through his head the best way to verbalize the chaos that was running through his head. He was never one for words, but he found it especially difficult to explain himself, even in front of you.

After pausing for a while, he finally opened his mouth to speak again.

“Everything’s different. I’m different,” he whispered, as if he didn’t want you to even hear what he was saying. “And I know I’m selfish for finding myself longing for some elements of the past.”

It wasn’t that Levi missed the chaos, horror, and tragedy that was life on Paradis Island before the discovery of humanity outside the walls. People constantly died and life within the walls was suffocating. If it wasn’t for the Titans, many of his companions would still be alive. If it wasn’t for the Intelligent Titans, most of the Scouts that he had worked with would still be alive. He couldn’t reasonably say that he was nostalgic for that sort of life—but he was.

Although he hated it, he had accepted his title as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier™. Fighting was something that he was forced into his entire life. He was forced into learning how to fight above all else when Kenny had taken him in. He was forced to fight to survive in the Underground. He was forced to fight the Titans, especially after the death of his comrades from the Underground. He was forced to fight Zeke Jaeger, who was responsible for nearly decimating the entirety of the Scouts during the mission to retake Shiganshina. Levi Ackermann was always fighting. It was who he was. It was a core part of his identity.

All of that had been stripped away in an instant. He knew that he didn’t need to fight anymore, but he didn’t know who he was if he wasn’t a soldier. That’s why it felt impossible to adjust to whatever normal life he was supposed to be living now.

“You might hate to hear this, Levi,” you said, bringing him back into the present.

He gave you a confused look, unsure of where you were going with your comment.

“I never saw you as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier,” you said, looking him straight in the eye. “You were always Levi first.”

When you saw him try to look away again, you tightened your grip on his shoulder.

“You were always this-” you said as you took a pause for a second, trying to figure out how to best verbalize your thoughts, “-this peculiar man, who I found strange because he was a clean freak despite growing up in shady conditions his entire life, who appeared aloof—and a little bit of a dick, if we’re being honest.”

You saw a small pout appear on his face at your last comment as he turned away.

“But he cared so much more than he let on,” you continued. “You were a man that always went out of his way to rescue me out of the stupidest of situations, and who placed the weight of the world on his own shoulders time and time again.”

You placed your hand on his right hand, prompting him to look back up at you.

“You don’t have to fight anymore,” you said quietly. “You don’t have to bear the weight of being Humanity’s Strongest Soldier anymore—at least, not alone.”

You shot him a small smile as he continued to frown at your statements.

“Tch,” he said before turning away, annoyed that you were able to make his problems feel smaller by being annoyingly logical.

He placed his left hand on top of yours, looking back at you again.

“I’m not sure how I would’ve adjusted to this life without you,” he whispered to you, his facial features softening.

You glanced back at him with a sad look on your face.

“I’m not sure how I would’ve been able to either,” you replied, matching his volume.

He leaned forward and gently placed his left hand on your cheek, pulling you into a soft kiss. You gently returned the kiss, allowing you two to connect in a brief, intimate moment.

“Come,” you whispered to him after pulling away, resting your forehead on his. “I’ll show you somewhere I hung out at a lot while you were gone.”

~~~~~

“Is this some ironic joke?” he asked, with disgust emanating from his voice.

You chuckled and slightly pushed on him for his dry humor. You had taken him to a public flower garden that you walked through during your time in Liberio. It had reminded you of the dynamic the two of you had when you first started seeing each other all those years ago.

You had a habit of bringing Levi flowers, or at least something “flower-y”, to symbolize your affection for him. He absolutely hated it. He’d hesitantly take it before giving you a weird look. You were insulted the first time, but you gradually moved towards beginning to give them to him as a joke.

He hated it each time and constantly complained about how the petals would make a mess or how annoying it would be to take care of it, but over the course of the first few months, he gradually began to openly accept them—although he made sure to still voice his discontent each time.

“I guess coming here reminded me of the few good times we were able to steal while within the walls,” you said with a shrug. “I felt those good feelings—no matter how fleeting, and it gave me at least a few minutes of escape from the grief, although the emptiness always quickly returned.”

Levi moved his eyes throughout the environment around him as he processed what you said. That was the same reason that he went to that dock every day at sunset. It reminded him of the time that he had spent with you and allowed him to briefly feel at peace, although it never lasted long.

You eventually sat down on a bench that was sitting under a tree, providing the two of you with some shade from the glaring sun. You pulled him down next to you, gently running your hand down his right cheek while looking into his eyes.

“You have no idea how scared I was of never being able to see this sight again,” you whispered as he placed a hand on your waist.

He gently pulled you into another kiss, placing his other hand on the nape of your neck to pull you closer, basking in the feeling of your soft lips on his and the warmth of your body against him.

“I’m sorry I never came back for you,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be,” you whispered before pulling him in to kiss him again. You smiled into the kiss upon the realization that he’d always be next to you and that all your fears from the past few months had dissipated.

After pulling away, you leaned against him, with your face buried into the crook of his neck. The grief that you had felt over all the people you had lost had not disappeared. You weren’t sure if it ever will, but you were at least able to bring the grief over losing him to an end.

Levi took a deep breath as he echoed your thoughts. The grief regarding the loss of all of his comrades was a heavy weight that made it hard for him to initiate anything regarding the day—but at least now he had a source of support.

The world is cruel. That was the belief and lens that Levi looked through towards the world his entire life. Regular life in a world that he just realized existed seemed impossible, and there was no doubt that a part of him still felt that way. He’d wake up every day, with the challenge of having to shed off the identity and burden of being Humanity’s Strongest Soldier™—but with every passing day, especially with you by his side, waking up into a world filled with hope in which he could be a normal person that didn’t have to take on the weight of the world, felt just a little bit easier.

A/N: it took me an annoyingly long amount of time to write this. feel free to shoot me ideas for future segments of this little post-war series i now have going on uwu

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