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fayes-fics · 3 months

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When The World Is Free: Chapter 6 - J'ai Dansé Avec L'Amour

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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none, really… some kissing and some awkwardness

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Well, this isn't the wedding yet, but it's them both dealing, rather awkwardly, with the idea of getting married as they grapple with their attraction to each other. The wedding will be the next chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Montivilliers (just outside Le Havre), September 1939

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Eloise whispers into the inky blackness.

“What other choice do I have?” you whisper back, unwilling to admit how weirdly calm you are about the scheme.

You are lying in the spare room of Solène’s sister, Marie and her husband Jérôme’s cottage. Sharing the compact double bed, shoulders touching as you converse quietly. It must be after 2am. Benedict chivalrously insisted on taking the sofa downstairs despite being stuck on yours in Paris for the last few days.

“I still say we should find some forgers,” Eloise opines; you can hear the shrug in her tone. “You shouldn’t have to go through with a marriage to my brother just to escape.”

“It’s fine,” you placate, waving your hand dismissively, although likely unseen.

“What about Stanley?”

“I’m sure he will understand when I can eventually get home,” you fib.

There is a brief lapse into silence, and outside somewhere, an owl hoots.

“You know we may have to bribe someone to do this regardless, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” you frown, turning your head to face her.

“There are rules about residency for French civil marriages, and you’ll need identification neither of you have with you, like birth certificates,” Eloise points out.

“Ohhh…” you stutter, feeling sheepish you didn’t even know that.

“Although… Jérôme is the mayor of Montivilliers…” Eloise offers thoughtfully. “And he is sleeping just through that wall…”

“He can marry us?” You’re unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

“If he’s willing to overlook a few things… yes… he could marry you in the Town Hall.”

Internally, you are celebrating even as you try to temper your excitement.

“Then, for my sake, let’s hope he is,” you answer, attempting to sound gravely concerned.

Eloise hums sleepily in response, and it’s your last words before she drops off. You lay awake for what seems like hours, staring up at the beam of moonglow on the whitewashed ceiling. A myriad fluttering in your stomach—a cautious optimism that this could work, a strange excitement at the thought of marrying Benedict, and a vague dread that your family could still be upset if it all works out.

—

A light, dewy mist lingers in the garden outside the kitchen window as you sip coffee the following morning. A moment of solitary contemplation that has you considering a telegram to your family but deciding against it. Until you know if you can get out of the country, it seems pointless to make them more concerned than they already are.

“Dress shopping?” Eloise asks over a yawn as she plops into the seat next to you at the rustic wooden table in the kitchen, breaking your reverie. “For the wedding…” she adds when you frown nonplussed.

Oh.

“I, umm, was just going to use one I already have, to be honest. That off-white silk tea dress?”

Eloise cocks her head to the side in thought. “Hmm, that might just work - that can be your something old. I have a little faux fur stole you can wear to dress it up - something borrowed. I know you have some powder blue underwear, so we only need something new!”

“You believe in that stuff?” you frown, taking a sip. It seems so anachronistic for her. You also decide not to ask how she knows about your underwear.

“I know it's not…” she leans in, likely worried about prying ears, mouthing the word ‘real’, before continuing at her regular volume, “...but best not to tempt fate,” she raises a pointed eyebrow, silently reminding you of what is at stake.

“Good point,” you concede as she gets up to grab some fruit.

“Your humble sage at your service,” she jests, taking a comedic bow.

“But we still have to ask Jérôme…”

“Ask me what?” a genial, heavily accented booming voice rings out from the doorway.

“This one and my brother have gone and fallen in love,” Eloise explains, rolling her eyes. “The soppy idiots want to get married in France as soon as possible. I don't suppose you could help, could you? It would be their dream come true and so very romantic, non?”

She appears to be piling on the theatrics, but you see that winning smile, the one she deploys whenever she manipulates an unsuspecting man to get her way. Sometimes, you swear it is almost too easy to navigate the world as an attractive Bridgerton.

“Pour vous, ma petit chou-fleur, peut-être…” he responds, an avuncular glint in his eye. It is evident from this interaction and the previous evening when you arrived that Marie and Jérôme have spent time with Eloise, likely in Paris with Solène.

“Merci Jérôme!” she celebrates, kissing his cheek as he affectionately chuckles. “Demain?” she adds cheekily.

“Mon dieu Eloise,” he exclaims as he grabs a croissant, “C'est très bientôt!”

You try to listen in as they rapid-fire converse in French, but you only follow along with every few words, maybe something about paperwork, but really, you are not sure. It mostly seems fond exasperation on Jérôme’s part, so you sit hopeful, just as Benedict wanders in.

“Ah, the other love bird!” Eloise cuts away from their chat. “I know you want to get married so quickly, but please do not make out too much in front of Jérôme!” she titters pointedly at Benedict, her eyes cutting from him to you.

Benedict seems to cotton on very quickly, and you startle as he leans down and brushes a featherlight kiss onto your cheek.

“Bon matin, mon amour,” he rumbles, his minty breath warm, causing goosebumps to break out over your arms.

“Morning, my love,” you whisper back stutteringly, the words almost tacky on your tongue, your mouth suddenly so dry. Your eyes meet, and it's the closest you have ever been, captivated by the tiny flecks of colour in his iris. He doesn't look away, and you seem unable.

“Oh oui, je le vois, l'amour vrai… ” Jérôme mutters quietly across the room. “I will see what I can do,” he offers in English as you finally tear your eyes away, him giving you a nod before he takes his leave.

“Well done!” Eloise enthuses quietly with a big thumbs-up gesture once Jérôme has left the room. “Really convincing!” she adds before twirling out of the room with an apple jammed in her mouth.

“Sorry about that…” Benedict offers, a little flustered.

“No, please…” you can't think of anything else to say, almost tongue-tied as you replay his kiss on your cheek like a looping projector reel, wanting to add ‘do it again’, a tingle still lingering on your skin.

There are a few beats of awkward silence where he seems on the precipice of saying something, but you are almost afraid to hear it, as if worried he wants to conjure an excuse to back out.

“I…I need to buy my something new!” you exclaim, jumping up and scurrying out of the room, leaving Benedict mildly perplexed about what that might even mean.

—

After a successful trip into Le Havre, where you and Eloise found your ‘something new’ - a pair of ivory Mary Janes that will complete your outfit - the day ends with Jérôme and Marie taking you all to a local restaurant. A delicious meal of many courses with flowing carafes of wine under the bright red canopy outside. It turns into one of those late nights with convivial conversation and bonding with strangers.

A band strikes up in the cobbled square, and after a few numbers, Jérôme drags Marie up to dance as the three of you cheer.

“Les tourtereaux!!” Jérôme exclaims after the song ends, gesturing for you and Benedict to join them on their makeshift dance floor.

“Non..non!” you protest, gesturing a no with your arms and laughing, a languid feeling in your bones from good food, drink and conversation.

But it appears he won't take no for an answer, and as Marie giggles and applauds, Jérôme marches over and grabs you both by the elbow, hauling you to your feet.

“Danse!” he commands.

You and Benedict exchange slightly nervous looks but emboldened by wine; then you gasp as a strong arm wraps around your back, and your other hand slides into his.

“Just go with it,” he breathes into your hair, and suddenly, you are spinning, the stars above you twinkling, as he leads you expertly in a swing dance.

“Mr Bridgerton, you can dance!” you exclaim in blithe amusement, clinging to him as you move together in a balletic union.

“As can you, Mrs Bridgerton!” he peels carefree.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you lose your footing. Benedict has to grab hold and haul you back upright before you collapse onto the cobbles.

“Sorry…” he blusters, his arms still around you, “I…I wasn't thinking…”

“No, no. That will indeed be my name…” you stumble, almost as if that is only just occurring to you now. “I'm just getting used to it, that's all,” you lie, knowing that is not why you lost your footing.

He seems to accept that with a nod, and after a beat, you begin to move again, tentatively, Until the wine takes over and you are once again both giggling and dancing, his arm a strong brace around your back as you move together for many minutes, a joy fizzing in your veins.

At one point, you glance over and see Eloise with an odd expression on her face before she orders a drink from the waiter, but Benedict whips you around, and you get lost in the dance and in him. The feel of him wrapped around you at once safe and exhilarating.

“Kiss!” comes the yell from Jérôme as the song ends.

“You know, he's not going to shut up until we do it,” you raise, a little breathless from the dancing.

Without you having to say anything else, Benedict’s hands grasp around your waist, and you are lifted off the ground, taller than him. Then he tilts his head up and captures your lips with his.

Time stops.

The feeling is like an explosion and a perfect calm silence all at once. His lips don't open, but they don't need to - even this gentle kiss is a soft, sensual plushness that obliterates all your thoughts. A lingering tang of wine on his slightly dampened lips that you want to lick off, a plunge of lust in your belly that has you fighting the urge to wrap your legs around his hips and open your mouth, demanding a real kiss.

His hands slide around your back in a gentle cage as he lowers you to your feet. What upends you is the breathtaking look in his eye when he finally pulls away, pupils blown, face soft and full of yearning. You could never tire of that look.

“Get a room!” Eloise yells, and there is an uncharitable tart edge to it that breaks the spell and makes you look over at her. She appears much more inebriated than she was before.

“Is she okay?” you ask, your hands still wrapped around Benedict’s biceps, warm through his shirt sleeves.

“I think she ordered absinthe, so maybe not,” he answers, and you feel a pang of sadness as he releases his hold and gestures gentlemanly for you to walk ahead, to return to the table, the moment lost.

Half an hour later, Benedict and Jérôme are on either side of Eloise, helping her back into the cottage, much worse for wear. They get her to the sofa, where she promptly passes out and begins to snore lightly. Marie covers her in a blanket, and you realise it's unlikely you will be able to move her tonight.

“Well, you two will have to share the bed. But do not worry, I shall not tell your families,” Jérôme winks. “I can’t say Marie and I were saints before our marriage,” he adds with a tap on his nose and an uproarious chuckle.

Your eyes dart to Benedict and his to you. Panic, excitement, and apprehension all bubbling up inside—a volcanic eruption in your gut. You trust him not to take advantage; it’s yourself you don't trust.

Jérôme wraps an arm around both of your shoulders, red wine heavy on his breath “Oui, I will marry you tomorrow, mes amis. I can overlook some rules for a true love like yours.”

With that, he takes his leave, with you and Benedict left looking uncomfortably at each other, unsure if you should celebrate. That feeling remains as he suggests you go up first and get ready for bed, and once you are nervously tucked under the covers as he enters from the bathroom, those broad shoulders framed with a white t-shirt and the same bottoms he wore in Paris when you watched him sleep.

“I really wish I'd packed a proper pyjama set,” he sighs ruefully as he approaches the other side of the bed and slips under the covers, seemingly arranging himself right at the far side. “I'm also so sorry about Eloise landing us in this situation. I can't believe she was that irresponsible,” he adds with his back turned but an unmistakable tinge of irritation in his tone.

Even then, it’s a small bed, and you can feel his body heat radiating under the covers.

“You don't have to cling to the edge,” you offer hesitantly, “we are to be married after all…”

The last words are a whisper that sounds almost wounded, and he twists over, a look of surprise crowding his features.

“I am merely being respectful...” he replies cautiously.

“I know…” it's barely audible, and you can’t look at him.

The overwhelming awkwardness makes your chest ache, your hands wringing together nervously under the covers. What feels like mere moments ago, you were swept into his arms, and he was kissing you as if your lives depended upon it. And now this… the juxtaposition of reality and the fairytale you both act so well draws a lump to your throat.

“This whole situation is so odd,” you confess quietly, unable to be anything but honest with him.

“I know… I'm so sorry it has come to this.”

You have no idea if he means tonight, the marriage or even life in general, in a war that could come to your doorstep any day.

“I don’t regret anything,” you volunteer after a beat.

“Neither do I…” his earnest whisper makes something inside you crack open, your palm itching to squeeze his hand.

Instead, you exchange soft goodnights, and you lay stock still for a long time, backs towards each other, feeling at once too close and a million miles apart.

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mountttmase · 7 months

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A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Eleven

Note - the penultimate chapter 😔 I can’t believe we’re here. Chapter 12 will be posted on Sunday but for now I hope you enjoy this one and I’d love to hear what you think 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5.2k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

When Freya came to visit it was usually the highlight of your week. This time however you were nervous. She was observant and you were desperately trying to hide a secret.

You’d managed to fool Mason, him being busy with the end of the season nearing making things easier and he was currently at an away game so you could suffer on your own but it had always been the plan for her to come and stay and if you cancelled now she’d be suspicious.

‘Hello my love’ she smiled as you opened the door, pulling you into her body and you felt your eyes prick at the feel of her. Freya was home to you and you knew you couldn’t hold anything in for too long.

‘Hey Frey’ you whispered, trying to clear your eyes before she pulled back but the sound of your strangled voice caused her to pull away quickly and hold you at an arms length.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’ you laughed, hoping the smile you sent her would be enough for her to move on but she only eyed you’re curiously.

‘Oh yeah like I’m gonna believe that’ she laughed, hooking her arm through yours before walking you into your living room and sitting you on the sofa. ‘Now spill’

‘There’s nothing to tell’ you smiled, trying to shrug her off but she wasn’t having any of it and the panic of having to tell her what was going on in your brain made the tears spill from your eyes again.

‘Oh baby, come here’ she breathed, pulling you into her side as she rubbed your arms soothingly. ‘You know you can’t keep things from me you silly goose, so you might as well come out with it’

You knew it was something you had to tell her, this thing was big and if you left it it would only get bigger and there’s no doubt she would find out eventually but the fear kept the words in your throat. This thing was the biggest secret you’d ever kept in but you were a ticking time bomb and you knew you needed to confess.

‘I’m late’ you suddenly choked, Freya’s arms stopping for a second as she stuttered before carrying on. Your words shocking here a bit before she pulled you a little closer to comfort you even more.

‘How late?’

‘Three weeks’

‘Does Mase know?’

‘No’ you sobbed, shaking your head as you tried to wipe your eyes.

‘Let’s not panic yeah? Is there anything else?’

‘I’m exhausted, like all the time. Everything aches and I feel sick constantly in the mornings like I’ve gone through a multi pack of mints this week trying to settle my tummy’ you told her and you could see the cogs turning in her head. She knew it didn’t sound good but she was trying to be the voice of reason and not freak you out but you were absolutely petrified.

‘Right well there so use sitting here panicking eh? Let’s go grab a test and find out’

‘But I’m scared, frey’

‘I know my love. But there’s no point putting it off is there?’ She asked and you shook your head. ‘Exactly. So we’ll go find out and we can deal with it from there’

‘Okay’ you sniffed, giving her one last squeeze before jumping in the car. The ride was pretty silent and you let her pull you around the store until found what you needed but you had no idea what you were meant to be looking at so you let her assess your options before giving her opinion.

‘Get the multi pack, I’ll take one with you’ she told you, causing you to eye her suspiciously but she just shrugged with smile. ‘It’s always good to check’

‘I can’t even imagine a mini you and woody. Like my brain won’t let me visualise it’

‘Let me tell you, mini woody is not-‘ she started but covered your ears with your hands and sing loudly, not wanting to hear the rest of what she had to say. You were feeling sick enough already and the thought of Woody naked didn’t help.

You couldn’t wait to take the tests I till you got home, anting to know as soon as possible what you were dealing with so you pulled Freya into loo’s where she dished the tests out for you to take before meeting by the sinks where she sent you an appreciative smile.

‘You fancy putting them back in the box so we can play pregnancy test roulette?’ She winked but you shook your head with a panicked expression.

‘No way, I’m not risking anything and I’m not taking another one’ you told her, packing your stuff up so you could go check them in the car and once you were settled down you took a deep breath in preparation to look. ‘What does yours say?’ You asked, gulping down a lump as you tried to distract yourself from the bomb in your hand.

‘Negative’ she smiled, showing you the test before you handed her yours.

‘Can you tell me, I cant look’ you asked before hiding your face in yours hands. It felt like the longest wait in the world as you shut your eyes and tried to keep your breathing normal. The next few words from Freya had the power to change the rest of you life and as your heart hammered away in your chest you weren’t sure you can handle what she was about to say.

‘It’s negative, babe’

The rush of relief you were expecting to feel never came. If anything you felt your heart sink just a little bit but you were quick to dismiss the feeling and take a deep breath out that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

Not pregnant.

You were okay.

‘Let me see’ you breathed, taking the test back from her and looking over it. There it was in black and white, not pregnant and even though your heart rate was slowly getting back to normal you felt your eyes prick at the sight.

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m glad I know now. I wonder why I’m late though?’

‘A woman’s body is a mystery’ she shrugged before looking back at you. ‘You sure you’re alright?’

‘I feel a little bit silly but I’m fine’ you laughed, hoping she’d buy it and even though you knew she could tell you were a bit upset she thankfully knew not to push. ‘Shall we head home? Mase’s game will be on soon’

Thankfully she didn’t ask any more questions and you put it to the back of your mind so you could focus on the game and you watched on with pride as he ran around like a maniac on the pitch. Seeing him on your tv only made you miss him even more and you couldn’t wait for him to get back home tomorrow so he could wrap you and make you feel better in the way only Mason could.

Freya left the next afternoon and you used your alone time to sit and think through your feelings so that you’d be fine for when Mason returned home the next morning.

You were freaked out that it might be positive, but now you knew it was negative why were you feeling so weird about it? You didn’t want a baby, not right now at least but the weird sensation settled in your stomach and you didn’t know how to feel. What would happen when you told Mason? Would he be disappointed? Or relieved? And what was worse? If he was disappointed then at least you knew you could try again but any type of relief would make you think that’s not what he saw for your future. Did he even see a future with you?

You were driving yourself crazy with all these thoughts so you did the only thing you knew how and went to sleep in hopes you feel better tomorrow when Mason got home.

You tried to busy yourself the next morning and make sure the house was spotless for when Mason got back but it was no use. Again finding yourself laid down staring up at the ceiling as you ever thought everything about the last few weeks.

Soon enough it was time for Mason to be home and as soon as you heard the door go you were up and rushing over to greet him. His wide smile and excited eyes settled you and you just prayed you could fool him into thinking you were fine and that the last few days hadn’t happed but one look at him and you knew you were gone.

‘Hello baby’ he smiled softly as he took you in, pulling you into his arms so he could hold you, your body melting as you took in his smell and you automatically felt at home ‘you alright?’ He asked, pulling back and eyeing your curiously. It was scary how quickly he knew something might be wrong even when you tried to hide it and the concern on his face made your bottom lip wobble. ‘Hey, what’s happened?’

You didn’t mean to as you were trying to hold it together but you burst into tears, your comfort person was all that you’d wanted for the last few days and now that he was finally here you needed to get your emotions out. You didn’t think you’d be this upset but the tears kept coming so he bundled you inside and into the living room so he could pull you into his lap.

‘I didn’t play that bad did I?’ He laughed, trying to ease the tension and even though you were sobbing your little heart out you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in his neck to reassure him before sitting back so he could help calm you down and the gentle kisses along your forehead were working wonders. ‘It’s okay baby, just take your time’

‘Sorry’ you hiccuped, letting him wipe your eyes before leaving a delicate kiss on your nose.

‘No need to be sorry. Whatever it is you can tell me’

‘I know’

‘You’re not hurt or anything are you?’

‘No no I’m fine. Just something happened and I thought I was okay but maybe I’m not’ you laughed, rolling your eyes to try and play it off but he wasn’t having it.

‘You’re worrying me now, what’s happened?’ He asked, holding you by your jaw and you let you cheek rest in his hand as he gently stroked under your eyes.

‘I’ve not been feeling well for a little while. Nothing major just a bit sick and dizzy and some other things and I think I freaked myself out a little bit’

‘I thought you seemed a little off before I left but I just presumed it was your special lady time’ he joked, one hand moving so he could tickle your side to make you laugh and when you eventually smiled he smiled back twice a brightly before his face turned sympathetic. ‘Was it a bad one this month?’

‘If only’ you joked but you realised he didn’t understand from his confused expression so you gulped down a nervous lump before explaining further. ‘My period never came, Mase’

‘Oh well that’s alright then, one less to worry about’

‘No I don’t think you get it’ you laughed, thinking his puzzled face was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen and you weren’t sure if you had it in you to burst his bubble. ‘Normally it means something if it doesn’t come’

It took a few seconds but you saw it when the information clicked in his brain. His eyes going wide as his mouth dropped open but you were quick to break the news as not to make him think something would be happening.

‘I’m not, I just thought I might be’ you explained, your voice breaking at the end and you thought you saw his face drop slightly before the tears started flowing again. ‘I don’t know what I’m crying so much’ you laughed, hiding your face before he held you to him again.

‘Shhhh it’s okay’ he told you but your attempts at trying to calm down were futile. ‘It’s probably been a stressful few days huh? It’s no wonder your upset’ he whispered whilst rubbing his hands over your back gently. ‘You don’t have to tell me yet but when you’re ready to talk we can’

‘I love you’ you whispered into his neck, feeling him squeeze you a little bit tighter as he kissed your forehead gently. He was your rock and no matter how bad you felt you knew you were so blessed to have him.

‘I love you too’ he told you before a comfortable silence fell over you for a few moments. ‘I tell you what. Why don’t you go get into bed? I’ve got a few bits to sort out and I’ll come join you soon’

‘It’s 11am Mase’

‘I know but you’re tired baby, and I am to. We can have a nap or just cuddle for a bit yeah?’

‘Okay’ you agreed, letting him help you up before you went up to your room to get settled. You could hear him moving around downstairs but your eyes were heavy from your tears so you let them shut until you felt Mason slipping into bed besides you.

‘You alright?’ He whispered, kissing your cheeks and you nodded as you cuddled up to him. You weren’t sure if you were ready to talk but now he was in front of you you felt as if you owed him an explanation for everything.

‘I’m okay. Just feel like a lots gone on I should tell you about. If you’re ready that is’

‘I’m all ears’ he smiled and you sent him one back before spilling everything that had happened.

‘When Freya got here the other day she could see something was wrong and it kinda slipped out. The missing period, the sickness and dizziness. All of it. She came to the same conclusion I did so we took a test together but it was negative’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘I didn’t want to disappoint you’ you laughed ‘We’ve not really spoken about any of that and I didn’t know what you’d think’

‘What? About kids and stuff?’

‘Yeah’ you breathed, you bottom lip wobbling again but you held your emotions in so he could say his piece.

‘You want me to be honest?’

‘I always want you to be honest’ you winked and he laughed whilst nodding his head.

‘All I’ve ever wanted is a family of my own. Yes it may be early days but if it’s something you wanted then I’d find a way for us to work it out. You don’t ever have to worry about telling me anything like that. I love you and I want us to have all of that and more’

‘I know, I feel silly about it now but I was all hormonal and stressed’ you laughed. ‘I’ve never thought about kids and as awful as it sounds I was praying for it to be negative at first but when I finally saw it, I didn’t feel like I thought I would’

‘How did you feel?’

‘A little disappointed. Is that weird?’

‘I don’t think so’ he laughed ‘is that why you’re so upset?’

‘I think so. Maybe in the back of my mind I knew if it was positive then things would be fine and you’d be happy. Now I feel like I’ve disappointed you a bit’

‘You could never disappoint me, gorgeous’ he whispered, kissing your nose before leaving a gentle peck on your lips. ‘Of course I would of been happy if it happens, you’re the love of my life and I can’t wait for all of that stuff to happen for us but we can do it in our own time yeah?’

‘Yeah’ you agreed, smiling at his words as he always knew what to say but you could feel the tears welling in your eyes again.

‘Are you alright though, with all that stuff’ he laughed, hands tickling your sides to indicated he was talking about your womanly issues and you nodded with a laugh before he kissed you again.

‘I guess so? I mean still no movement on that front so who knows’

‘I wonder why? Could the test of been wrong?’

‘I’m not sure, I have a spare so we could always take another just to double check’ you mused and he nodded at you shyly.

‘If you think it will sell your mind a bit more then we can’

‘Wait here I’ll go take it’ you told him before scurrying off. When you came back Mason was sat up against the headboard and you settled yourself next to him with the test in your lap.

‘You know whatever it says on that test, we’ll be fine. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us for mini Mounts and whatever else comes our way’

‘I know’ you laughed, eyes filling with tears again as you looked up at him but he was quick to brush them away. ‘I think I was a little unsure but I really like the sound of mini Mounts now’

‘Yeah?’ He smiled, eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them and you felt your heart thump at the little intimate moment you were having.

‘Yeah, someone to look after and keep me company when you’re away. And considering how cute you are I can only imagine how adorable a mini you would be’

‘I think they’d be cuter if they looked like you’ he laughed, kissing your nose. ‘You’re so perfect’

‘Well then I want them to have your resilience. You never gave up on me and I’ll always love you for that. You dragged me up our mountain kicking and screaming but I’ve never been happier’ you told him, smiling proudly at the way he blushed at your words before he pulled you in even closer.

‘Well I want them to have your brains cause let’s face it they won’t have any hope if they’ve got mine’

‘You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for’

‘Well I managed to pull you so I must be good at something’ he winked before leaning down to give you a soft kiss that made your heart flutter. ‘I want them to have your eyes cause they’re the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen’

‘And I want them to have your smile. Though I think I’d let them get away with too much if they did’ you laughed but it was true. Mason melted you so you could only imagine what a little one of him would do to you.

‘Shall we have a look then?’ He asked, nodding down to the test and you took in a nervous gulp. His fingers were on your chin in an instant though so he could pull your face towards his and the look of joy on his face settled you instantly. ‘Whatever that says on there, it changes nothing okay? You’re my girl and we’ll get through whatever it is together’

You didn’t have the strength to reply but you hoped he knew that you felt the same. His eyes were soon on the test and you followed them so you could pick it up, taking one last breath before flipping the test the right way around.

Not pregnant.

You knew it was coming, but it still didn’t sting any less and you bit your lip as you let out the breath you’d been holding.

‘It’s not our time yet, but we’ll get there’ Mason whispered into your hair, pulling you close as you melted into his body. ‘Now we know it’s something we want we’ve got more time to prepare’

‘I guess so’ you whispered and even though you didn’t want to you let him tilt you face up so he could look at you.

‘No tears okay? Breaks my heart seeing you cry and not being able to do anything about it’ he smiled and even though your heart was still breaking a little bit you sent him a smile back. ‘Lay down with me’

You did as he asked, wrapping yourself around him and settling your head into his neck so you could hold each other. The stress of the last few weeks freeing you now that it was out in the open and you left yourself fall asleep in the arms of the man you loved more than anything.

Things went back to normal in the coming days and soon enough the sadness lifted. In it’s place a sense of joy and excitement about the future and even though you both agreed there probably wouldn’t be any babies in your near future plans, you were high on the knowledge that one day you could have the family you never did with the man of your dreams.

‘I’ve been thinking about something you said the other day’ Mason said as you slid in to bed next to him a few days later and you looked up at him with raised brows. ‘About having someone to keep you company when I’m not here’

‘I’m not having Woody move in’ you told him, watching him roll his eyes with a smile.

‘I didn’t mean Woody. But don’t tell him that he might get offended’ he joked before pulling you into his chest. ‘What do you think about getting a dog?’

‘Really?’ You laughed, loving the idea instantly as you looked up at him with a wide smile that he matched.

‘Yeah, I’ve always wanted one and I feel like we’re pretty settled now so it’s the perfect time. I’ve been looking at shelters and there’s one not too far from here. Thought it would be nice to re home one’

‘Like doggie foster parents’

‘Exactly’ he laughed, kissing your nose as he was so happy at how excited you were. ‘I’ll give them a call tomorrow and see if we can sort an appointment out for my day off’ he told you and you could hold in the excited squeal. You had always wanted a dog but never been able to afford one or have the right space but Mason was right. You were settled and it would be great practice for whatever else came in the future.

Sunday came around quicker than you expected it to and soon enough you were sat in the car park of the dog shelter. You couldn’t help but bob you knee up and down in excitement as you were so full of adrenaline at the thought of getting to see some dogs and you could see Masons smile out of the corner of your eye.

‘Do you think we should set some ground rules?’ Mason asked, his hand settling in your knee so you would stop moving it and you sent him a shy smile.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well I have a feeling we’ll get in there and suddenly I’ll be agreeing to adopt 7 different dogs’ he laughed and you rolled your eyes in his direction. ‘So rule one, we’re getting one dog. That’s it’

‘Fine. But rule two is that I get the final say on what one we pick’

‘How is that fair?’

‘Cause I’ll be the one spending more time with it’

‘Okay well I’ll see about that one’ he laughed before turning to face you properly. ‘This is the game plan. We do a lap and see all of them so we can make a list of our favourites and then hang out with those ones a little more until we find the one we vibe with most’

‘Sounds good. Can we go in now?’ You asked impatiently and after he nodded quickly you were out of the door.

Once you spoken to a few of the staff you were lead through to some kennels and you started your hunt straight away. It was difficult though and each dog seemed to be cuter than the last but you were having the best time seeing them all and learning all about them. As cute as they were you still couldn’t pick one out to say that was the one you wanted and you started to loose a little hope.

You were nearing the end of your search when you came across Parker, a three year old German shepherd and you fell in love with him instantly. He was a big boy with big brown eyes like Mason but you could tell he was so soft and gentle and when he came straight up to the glass to say hello you felt yourself melt.

‘Masey, come here’ you called quietly and he came over quickly with a slight laugh to come and see what you were looking at.

‘Who’s this?’

‘His name is Parker, look at him I think I love him’

‘Parker? Like Peter Parker?’

‘Yes Mase’ you laughed and even though he was smiling you could tell he was about to rain on your parade.

‘Baby, he’s massive’

‘Bit of luck you bought us a massive house then, eh?’ You teased but you could see in Masons eyes he was slowly falling for Parker himself. ‘And don’t call him massive, you’ll give him a complex’

‘I’ll give you something in a minute’ he said under his breath but you chose to ignore him for now.

‘I want this one’

‘Well hold on. What does his fact sheet say?’

‘See Mase, he’s perfect for us. We can give him a large space and you can take him out on runs and stuff. Can we at least meet him properly?’

‘If you really want to we can but I get the feeling you’ll be sold as soon on him as we do’ he laughed but with a quick kiss to your nose he was off to reception to enquire about Parker. The receptionist told you that Parker had been at the shelter the longest out of all the dogs they had as he was quite large and you we’re starting to think the more you knew about him the more you felt like he was put there just for you.

You were lead to a separate room and someone bought Parker in shortly after. He seemed curious about you at first as he quietly came over to sniff the pair of you and soon enough he was sat in your lap with his head cradled in your arm as you scratched in between his ears.

‘I want this one, Mase’ you whispered, looking up to him as he was staring back down with just as much love in his eyes. ‘He’s so sweet’

‘Yeah, he’s pretty cute. And he loves you by the looks of things’

‘He’s got good taste’ you winked before Parker shuffled over to inspect Mason and once he was happy with him he cuddled into Masons lap and you almost lost it. ‘Oh look, Mase. He loves you too’

‘You sure you’re 100%? There’s no going back if we get him’

‘I’m 1000% sure. He’s perfect for us’

‘I’ll get it sorted then’ he smiled before you let a squeal of delight out.

‘Thank you, Mase’

‘Anything for my girl’ he whispered, leaning over to peck you gently but the pair of you couldn’t stop smiling.

Mason arranged everything with the shelter, the house having to be inspected before the final agreement was made and two weeks later when you were getting in from work you dashed upstairs to get ready. Mason would be home any minute with your new fury friend and you couldn’t wait to finally be a little family unit.

You heard Parker’s bark before anything else, causing you to rush to the door where Mason was half struggling to keep him from coming to you but as soon as you were near he calmed down and let you pet him.

‘Hi baby, welcome to your forever home’ you smiled, gently scratching over his face as he panted at you and it almost looked like he was trying to smile.

‘I’m gonna have to bulk up some more, Parker’s got some pull on him’ Mason laughed as Parker began to attack you with face licks until you were on the floor in a fit of giggles. ‘Wow, he’s trying to steal my woman already’

‘You’ll have to learn how to share’ you told him as he laid down next to you so Parker could lay over the both of you.

‘Are you happy?’

‘I’m always happy with you’ you smiled, leaning over to place a light kiss on his lips before Parker wanted to get in on the action.

‘Come on Parker, let’s give you a tour of your new house’ Mason exclaimed, stroking his head as you all got up and you watched on with so much love in your heart as your boys ran off into the living room.

Y/n

Liked by: masonmount, freyaaaaxo, declanrice and others

Y/n Happy homecoming Parker. We’ve had the best week with you so far and we’re so happy to have you here. We can’t wait to be your forever home 🩷

view 254 comments

masonmount parker loves his mummy just as much as I do 🩷 family 🏠🐾

Y/n my boys 🥺 what a trio we make 🩷 ily

declanrice bringing Raffa over for play time

benchilwell Oscar is coming to join

masonmount my dogs bigger than yours

freyaaaaxo auntie frey is coming over for cuddles 🥰

Y/n we can’t wait to see you 🙊

lukeshaw23 not Mase being kicked out of his own bed

Y/n he’s my protector

masonmount I only went down to get a cup of tea and he’d taken over. Had to bribe him with treats so I could come back

woody_ that’s a smart dog

petrehomeruk that smile 🥺 Parker looks like he’s having the time of his life and we’re so thankful you came to us 🩷

Y/n Thank you for all your help and for making this process so smooth. We love Parker with all our hearts 🩷

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mm-vii @footiehoemcfc @masonmount07 @aundercover

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 10 months

Text

Crossfire Jack Reacher(Alan Ritchson) x AFAB/F!Reader Excerpt

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: This is pure smut with story (but it’s mostly about the smut), Size kink, teasing, mutual pining, angst, P in V unprotected (birth control and trust re STI’s(get checked up and keep your partners informed frens)), drinking, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of war/war fighting, mentions of PTS/PTSD, trauma, military terminology, strip teasing, rough sex, size kink, (small) praise kink, feisty Reader.

No mention of Y/N, Reader has nicknames, Teach/Bambi, was in the army with reacher, still doing covert stuff as a mercenary.

Finished a OneShot that I couldn’t get out of my head, might become Multi-chapter but we’ll see. Here’s an Excerpt.

““You two ever actually fuck?” Frankie asks you and you almost choke on the dregs of your beer.

“No, never, fucking hell Neagley, you trying to kill me?” You splutter, well aware that you’re far too flustered. Reacher notices it too and you see the vein on his neck pop as he stifles a triumphant smile.

“You should have, would’ve made things easier.” She shrugs as she takes another swig of her beer.

“That’s rich coming from you.” You needle back, knowing well that your relationship was tight knit enough to make that joke.

“Fair, but you’re a slutty little bisexual, either fuck him and get it over and done with or get over yourself.” Frankie says with a twitch of her lips. She has you there. The only thing that ever stopped you from fucking Reacher was your own ego.

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you gesture between your empty drinks before asking the obvious, “You want another?”

“As long as you’re buying.” Frankie says with a dazzling smile.

“Always, be back in a flash.” You say with a smirk. You love Frankie, you’d even, sort-of kind-of, dated for a while when you left the service, but Frankie being such a haptephobiac scuppered things for you both. You loved each other dearly but you’re a tactile, sexual person, and having to supress your own instincts wasn’t healthy for either of you. But it didn’t stop you loving one another, and that was something neither of you denied, you just expressed it differently, and that was ok.

You make your way to the bar, waiting patiently as the other, dressed up women got served before you. You’d grown used to it, you never dressed up, not for weddings, not for funerals, not for anyone. It had it’s perks, but in a bar, it meant you were served when you were served. You drum your fingers on the edge of the bar after a while, slowly getting tired of waiting.

“Hey,” Reacher’s low rumble makes you shiver as his large form cages you in. His navy shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as you see the firm, thick cords of his forearms hem you in as his large hands rest on the bar, “How’s Civvy life treating you?” He breathes into the shell of your ear as you shudder beneath him.

“Shit, I can’t be as lucky as you and land myself in the middle of murder investigations and big ol’ conspiracies like you J.” You say, using the nickname you know he hates.

“It cost me a brother, so I don’t know if you can call that luck.” He growls against your skin as he inches forward slowly. You feel the brush of his fucking marbled pecs against your shoulders as he tries to draw you in. This was a dance you had both done many times, riling the other up, pushing the limits to breaking point. But there was always an angle, exploiting each other’s vulnerabilities to get what you wanted, or needed.

It’s the toxic part of your relationship with Reacher you never allow yourself to admit to, but it’s also the only thrill you get anymore. Years of the brass putting warfighting over warfighters meant you were numb to just about any stimulus. Except Reacher.

“Fair,” You nod, trying to keep your mind clear as your whole body screams to push back against Reacher, goad him on so he can finally give you what you’ve craved for over a decade, “But we both know you’re not here for sentimentality and feelings.” You breathe, trying so damned hard not to grind back against him.

He wants something, whatever this is will cost you.

“Correct.” He grumbles before a hand falls from the bar, resting against your hip instead, “Tell me to stop, tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away.” He pants against the clammy skin of your neck as you try to wrestle control from the primal part of your brain that would let him rail you right now, against the bar in front of everyone.

“Why now?” You ask, the logical part of your brain interrupting at just the wrong time, you want to take it back, let Jack play his game, maybe let him win for once, then let him fuck you into oblivion but that simple question shatters the illusion.

“Never mind, have a good night, see you ‘round Teach.” Reacher’s tone is clipped as he detaches from you with surgical precision. His body melds back into the crowd instantly as he flees from you retreating back to reality once more.”

What do you think? Do you want to read it? I hope so as I had so much fun with this one.

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dragonwritersblog · 6 months

Text

Five Times Jax and Pomni Share Dreams of Their Past Lives (And One Time Where They Remember)

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1/2/3/4/5/6

Here we are, back with another chapter! Thank you so much for the support with this, it really means a lot to me. Especially those in the funnybunny discord server I joined, ya'll have been so welcoming and accepting when I joined so thank you so much.

Also, check out these art that people have made for my fic, I still can't believe people are drawing art of it thank you so much!

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Thank you all again and I hope you enjoy chapter 3!!!

3. Paper Rings

Jax stood with his arms crossed, and a frown printed on his face. Caine had called everyone for the last adventure of the day and Jax already wanted to be finished with it. Ever since his revelation earlier about how he felt about Pomni, his mind had turned into a storming whirlpool. He tried to think of anything else, pranks, centipedes, the existential dread that he was stuck here forever – it might be morbid but it was something at least -, kicking leftover gloinks, breaking Gangle’s comedy mask, Pomni-Pomni-Pomni-Pomni-Pomni…

“Thank you all for coming!” Caine’s abnormally loud voice from him from his daze, thankfully. “I understand that you’ve all been working hard all day with the adventures I’ve given you, but fear not, I have one more and you can all retire for the night!”

“Do we really have to?” Zooble muttered, “Can’t this wait till tomorrow? I’ve got better things to do.”

“I agree,” Gangle whispered, “I wanted to try and fix my comedy mask…again.”

“Don’t you worry Zooble and Gangle, you darling multi-shaped freaks!” Caine bellowed, “This adventure is only for two, so you don’t need to worry about joining anything. I just wanted to gather all of you to see them off before the most exhilarating voyage of a lifetime!”

“Well, whoever it is, I’m glad they’ve got this opportunity to do so,” Ragatha smiled, “It’ll be nice to hear about it when they finish it.”

“Even if it includes insects!” Kinger interjected, “That’s very important.”

“I mean, its just one more adventure,” Pomni shrugged, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

Caine gasped dramatically, finally, their new little jester was starting to get the hang of it here. “That’s great to hear Pomni, for you and Jax are going to be paired up for this glorious crusade!”

Said jester and rabbit’s faces blanched, they were still barely processing their sudden dreams two nights in a row and still weren’t able to get today’s earlier events out of their heads! Not only that, the two were still trying to process their sudden budding feelings with one another, now Caine wanted them to pair up?! Could they not have five minutes of temporary sanity before being shoved into another bizarre situation?!

“Woah, woah, hold up there, dentures!” Jax stepped forward.

“I really don’t think-” Pomni was about to continue before Caine interrupted.

“Now, now you two!” Caine waved his finger, “No need to be so shy! By the end of this adventure, you two will be closer than ever! Just think of it as team building, especially for you Jax, I don’t think I’ve seen you be close with anyone other than-”

“Don’t,” Jax bit out, making the AI go silent. A small whimper was heard, everyone turned to look at Kinger, the chest piece was clutching his cloak tighter to himself, trying to look as small as possible.

“I…I believe we should continue on with the details of your adventure!” Caine spluttered, wanting to change the subject as quickly as he could, “After all, there’s no reason to think of the past! Since there’s no ‘past’ for any of you to go back to.”

Pomni’s eyes darted from Caine to Kinger and Jax, curiosity began to bite at her. What happened to make everyone react like that? While she was still learning about the past performers here, she still didn’t know everything. Was there someone that Jax genuinely liked here? Did they abstract like Kaufmo as well? She remembered her first day here, the first time seeing an abstraction. If she didn’t arrive would Kaufmo still be okay? He probably had a family before this realm as well, and now any chance of seeing them again was taken from him.

“Now about your adventure! Both Jax and Pomni have to venture through the winding maze! It will be grovelling, it will be exhausting, it will leave you both wondering when this madness will end! But hey, you will end up the best of buddies the time it’s over, you might even wish you’d have stayed!”

Pomni blinked her brainstorm away, she nearly forgot about the adventure!

“Good luck, and we’ll see you both in the morning!” Before Pomni could ask him what he meant, Caine snapped his fingers and the rest of the tent disappeared before her eyes.

The ground felt different underneath her feet, looking down she realized that she was standing on some sort of pixelated grass. She lifted her head to take in the rest of her surroundings, two tall hedges standing on each side of her.

“Well, this is fantastic,” a sarcastic voice drawled. Oh, right, she was stuck with Jax until this was over, “Thank you so much Caine, this is exactly what I wanted.”

“It’s fine, this is fine!” she didn’t know if she was saying this to both of them or just to herself, “It’s just a maze with long winding paths and tall bushes that you can’t see out of and hey what was that Caine said about this madness not ending!?” She was spiralling, she knew that, but in her defence…it was Pomni. “Oh god! How long are we gonna be in here until we find an exit?! What if we don’t find an exit?!”

“Easy, Pom-Pom,” Jax rolled his eyes, “Caine would lose his entertainment if he kept us in here, now come on, I wanna get out of here as soon as possible.” He started walking a few steps, only to pause when he realised that Pomni wasn’t beside him. He let out a groan when he saw that she was still stuck in the same spot, her red and blue eyes replaced with dark swirls that only appeared when she was too caught up in her mind. He went back over and tapped the back of his hand against her cheek, causing her to gasp and jump. “Come on, the last thing we need is you delaying us because you’re too busy panicking.”

Pomni scoffed, that was unnecessary, “It’s not like I can control my panic attacks, unlike you, you actually choose to be a jerk.”

Jax froze, a smirk curling on his lips. Now this was an interesting development, “Well, well. Looks like the new cat on the block finally found her claws.”

Pomni rolled her eyes, she forgot that Jax could be incredibly annoying, “Let’s just try and find an exit.”

“Whatever you say Pom-pom,” Jax’s smirk fell, returning to his prior grimace as the two continued down the maze.

Their suspicions were corrected when guessing that this maze would last more than a while, each corner they turned was a dead end, each path seemed to lead them back to where they started and when they looked back it seemed like the area where they just were had been blocked off. They didn’t know how long they had been walking, minutes, hours? All they knew was that their feet were aching and that they desperately wanted to leave. Jax was starting to lose his patience. If he were stuck here with anyone else he would have tried to run as far away from them as he could. But for some reason, he had some sort of soft spot for Pomni and he couldn’t stand it. It made things much more frustratingly difficult for him, such as not bearing to leave her behind.

It wasn’t until she tripped for the umpteenth time did he start to lose his patience, he picked her up by the back of her collar, holding her at eye level. He had to bite back a laugh, she really did look like a cat this way, a miserable wet one at that. “I don’t think Zooble has fallen over as much as you have,” he said, “At least he has a reason to be so clumsy.”

“Oh really? And what’s your reason for being such an @SShole?” she challenged him, crossing her arms over her chest, “Or were you just born that way?”

Jax let out a slow breath, dropping Pomni into her feet again, watching her stumble as she regained her balance, “You’re right, I don’t have a reason, as long as I’m watching funny things happen to others I don’t really care.”

“Well that’s definitely a sad way to live,” Pomni mumbled, taking a few steps ahead of him.

“Its better than looking for an exit that isn’t there,” Jax retorted, “I mean, its pretty sad when you think about it."

“At least I didn’t leave you with an abstraction,” Pomni quipped, “Thanks a lot for that! It was so much fun for my first day here. Not!”

“Oh you’re so welcome,” Jax gave her a shit-eating grin, “Always great for the newbie to be traumatized on her first day, it gives ya a great taste of what else is coming.”

Pomni glared at him, oh he was having too much fun with her, “You know Ragatha got really hurt because of you? You could’ve tried to help get Caine but you just ran off to who knows where. Then when I tried to help her my hand started glitching, we could have both died!”

“But you didn’t,” he replied, placing a hand on his hip, “This isn’t my first rodeo with something like this, you would’ve been fine.”

“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t freaked out by it!” Pomni grit her teeth, “Like you said, I’m new, how was I supposed to know that it was gonna be fine?!”

“Look just lay off it already?!” Jax fumed.

“Right, cause nearly getting devoured by a glitchy monstrosity is so easy to forget about,” Pomni walked past him. “God you’re such a pain.”

Jax grumbled under his breath, “What do you want, an apology? That’s not something I do sweetie.”

Pomni growled, whipping back round to face him, “Okay, what is with you?! You say you don’t have a reason to care, yet you defended me earlier today when Caine was yelling at me! What the h%ll was that about?!”

Jax inhaled deeply, now she was starting to get on his nerves, but he seemed to be doing the same to her so at least he had some sort of equal footing, “Like I said, I didn’t want Bubble to destroy the carnival, there’s no deeper meaning.”

“And I don’t believe you,” Pomni frowned, “Otherwise you wouldn’t react that way earlier when Caine was talking about you being close with someone.”

Jax flinched, he spoke in a low tone, “That’s deep water you’re treading there, sweetie. I’d recommend for you to stop while you’re ahead.” He shoved past her, ignoring her scoff.

“At least I’m trying to leave!” she stated, “If I can find a way to do that then I can help the others get out of here too! What have you done other than be a d*)k to everyone here?!”

“You really wanna know Pomni?!” he yelled, turning back and stomping over to her, “I have tried to get out! I’ve tried to collect every single key here and yet none of them has opened an exit! Do you know how it feels, to watch everyone else here slowly give up on finding a way out?! You haven’t been here as long as I have! You haven’t seen what I’ve seen! And it hurts to have everyone tell you that it’s pointless in trying to leave, trying to find a way back to a life you don’t remember! So yes, I’m awful and I shouldn’t act this way! I get it! You don’t think I hate it too?! But for some reason when I’m with you I just-!”

He froze, catching himself before he fell off the edge. Pomni’s eyes were wide and cautious, great, he was scaring her off. This should be a good thing, he wouldn’t have to deal with these stupid butterflies anymore, so why did he feel so upset about it? But instead of her yelling at him to leave her alone, all she said was, “I’m sorry that you went through that, but don’t ever speak to me like that again.” A tear fell from her eye, “And maybe it is pointless for me to find an exit like how you tried to as well, but I wanna go back to a world and see what it can offer me rather than live in a place surrounded by fear and void. Even if the life I had before was bad, at least I’ll know that I’m able to change it into something else…I feel sorry for you Jax, I really do.”

With that, she finally walked away, slowly enough for him to catch up but enough for her to leave some distance between them. He shouldn’t care, he doesn’t care, he won’t care. But, just looking at her, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. There was just no denying the raw heartache he felt after hearing those words from her. He really did fall for her, didn’t he? And he probably messed this up too, just like…no, he doesn’t need to think about that event, not anymore.

The next hour of walking was nothing but awkward filled silence. The whole time, the two just wanted to say something, anything to the other, but the words just couldn’t come to mind, and they were just getting too exhausted to keep going. Though there was no indication of night and day here, the way that their eyes kept drooping and the struggle to keep going was starting to overcome their senses.

“We-um,” Pomni stuttered, Jax’s heart fluttered a bit, was he happy at the fact that she finally said something? “We should probably try and get some sleep. It isn’t a good idea to keep going like this.”

“Yeah, we…we should,” Jax nodded, “It’ll stop you from constantly tripping over your feet, eh?” He meant for it to be a joke, but she didn’t react other than a simple hum, he could understand why though.

They walked over to one of the hedges, sitting and leaning against the back of it. It wasn’t the best bed but there wasn’t anything else that they could do. Pomni shuffled away from him, to give Jax some room. “Well, night,” she said softly.

“It’s not able to be night here,” Jax spoke, “But I get what you mean.”

Like that, they turned away from each other, shutting their eyes. Neither of them aware that they were wondering what their dream would be about tonight.

The coffee table in Amber’s living room was scattered with treats. From the remains of gingerbread men and houses to chocolate chip and sugar cookies, even some sweet mince pies, two mugs of hot chocolate and a can of whipped cream on the side. It definitely wasn’t a healthy breakfast, but this sugary calamity was something special Penny liked to share with her mother since she started homeschooling. When things started to turn around for her, Amber made sure that every single aspect of her life was, while not perfect, something for Penny to look forward to. And thus, dessert for breakfast on Christmas morning was born.

Amber and Penny were lazing on the couch, the TV in front of them playing ‘The Grinch’ while the two stuffed themselves to their hearts content. Amber had squirted some whipped cream into her mouth before automatically doing the same with Penny, not even taking her eyes off the TV to know that her daughter had opened her mouth for some. After placing the can back onto the table, she and Penny leaned back into the cushions, with Amber wrapping her arms around her youngest daughter and holding her close. “I feel like at some point we’re going to become the couch if we keep doing this each year,” Penny giggled.

“Honey, we already have,” Amber smiled, pressing a kiss to Penny’s hair, “We are couch people and always will be couch people. I still can’t believe you used to be scared of this movie when you were a kid.”

“That was until I discovered the magic that was Jim Carrey’s comedic line delivery,” Penny replied, “The man’s a legend.”

“He really is, and you will be too my little costuming star!” Amber nuzzled her daughter’s nose with her nose, laughing at Penny’s groans.

“Mom!” Penny buried her head into Amber’s shoulder, “Stop!” She didn’t mean it and Amber knew that.

“I can’t help it if my daughter is amazingly talented,” Amber grinned, loosening up a bit as she peered down to look at Penny’s face. “You know, you seem a little different after that date with Jack at the Christmas fair.”

“I-what-mom!” Penny spluttered, her face as red as a tomato, “It was not a date!”

“Mmhmm,” Amber was not convinced in the slightest, “Baby, I’m old enough and wise enough to realise what a date looks like.”

“Mom…you, wise?” Penny stated.

“Ah, ah, I’m not finished,” Amber waved a finger in front of her face, “Trust me when I say this, I’ve been watching your sister fall in love with Winter and I’ve seen how they act around each other. You know when they first met it was over carrot cake?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard this story before,” Penny smiled, “There were having lunch at work and Winter got carrot cake because it was her favourite while Riley hated it.”

“And the two debated the whole day about cake flavours that they ended up becoming friends,” Amber continued, “And every time they saw each other Riley always brought Winter carrot cake.”

“What does this have to do with Jack?” Penny asked.

“I’ve seen the way Riley looks at Winter,” Amber told her, “She looks at her as though if she was the only thing that matters in the world. She could be surrounded by all the treasures in the world but she would still choose Winter. I saw how that boy looked at you before he left, in a room full of riches he would choose you.”

Penny blushed, thinking back to Jack kissing her cheek. The way he looked at her back then, it filled her stomach with butterflies and her heart thump hard. She never felt this way about anyone before, but the way he would smile at her, send her winks and always make her feel safe, it was hard not to fall for him. The only question was, did he feel the same way back? Sure he kissed her back but that was only on the forehead, what if it was a friendly kiss? What if she makes him feel awkward once she tells him how she feels? What if he wants nothing to do with her anymore?

“Penny, hey, it’s okay,” Amber pushed her daughter’s hair away from her eyes, taking her cheeks into her hands, “I can hear the cogs in your brain turning, but trust me when I say this, your dad has never looked at me the way Jack looks at you.”

Penny bit her lip, she knew that though her mother loved David in the past, he had hurt and betrayed her in many ways too. It was why they had these sugary breakfasts for Christmas, little things like that as a way for Amber to show how sorry she was for what David did to them. If there was a way Penny could show her that she wasn’t at fault, that she forgave her for everything that happened, that it was David who should be at fault for always gaslighting and manipulating Amber into thinking he was still the same man she married, but he was nothing of the sort.

“Mom,” Penny snuggled further into her mother, providing her with the comfort she needed.

“It’s okay baby, I’ve made my peace with it,” Amber held her tighter, “My only regret is that I didn’t realise he was this way before we were married. He gave me false hope and promises, love-bombed me until I could only see the world in rose tinted glasses and by the time I could finally get them off, he got you into that car crash. Jack isn’t like that. I’ve met him a few times while Winter and Riley were dating, and while he didn’t fully introduce himself, Winter’s mom always spoke about him. What I know of him is that while he’s scared and has been hurt many times before, unlike David, he wants to get better not just for his family, but for himself too. That’s more than David has ever done for me or for us.”

“Hey,” Penny turned her head to look up at her mother, “David fucked us all up. And yes, I’m still really scared with giving others a chance, but you’re one of the reasons why I’m able to get help. You were there for me every single step of my recovery and made sure that I was safe and happy. Parenting is a two-person job and not only did you have to do most of it on your own, but you also had two kids under your belt and raised us no matter what was thrown at you. Even if you didn’t leave David before the crash, you helped shield Riley and I as much as you could so that we had a good childhood. Don’t let your shitty ex-husband make you blame yourself for being a great mom.”

“Oh, babygirl, how did I get so lucky with you and your sister,” Amber pressed kisses over Penny’s face, her daughter’s nose scrunching up as she giggled. Her mother pulled away, smiling at her again.

“And you really think that…that Jack sees me like how you said?” Penny mumbled.

Amber gave her a look, her brow was raised and mouth was agape, “Honey, the guy wanted to wait for the perfect moment to ask for your number and kissed your forehead under the moonlight, the man is wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know it.” Penny blushed, ducking slightly under the blanket she was in. “Pen, I’d say go for it, only if you want to. You seem so much more yourself around him. But if he breaks your heart, I’m sending Riley after him.”

Penny burst out laughing at that, “Riley would send him to an early grave!”

“I know,” Amber stated matter-of-factly, “And I won’t hesitate to let her do it.”

“Mom no!” Penny snorted, “And you wonder where Riley gets these tendencies from.”

“Good,” Amber grinned, “That means I taught her well.”

Amber couldn’t help but join in on the laughter, just hearing her daughter laugh was enough to help her forget that she had even mentioned or thought about David. Penny was just that important to her. If anything happened to her…no, this was a good moment, there was so reason to think about the inevitable.

Penny’s phone dinged from the coffee table, sobering up from her laugh session, she leaned over to see what notification she got. What she saw made her gasp and nearly drop her phone.

“Winter proposed to Riley!” She squealed to Amber, the older woman immediately leaning over to check the recent news, “And she said yes!”

“Oh my god!” Amber screamed with joy, shaking Penny by the shoulders, “My daughter is getting married, I’m so happy!”

“Mom I know you’re excited too but I’m gonna be sick!” Penny warbled, starting to get dizzy.

“I’m sorry baby but it’s just, aaaahhhhh!” Amber got up from the couch, “I’m just so happy for her! Wait here, I’m gonna get my phone and message your sister!”

Penny giggled at her mother’s antics as she ran out the room, turning away to look at the image on her phone again. Riley and Winter’s faces weren’t in the picture, but what she did see was the Winter was behind the camera, holding Riley’s hand as she showed off her new engagement ring. This was without a doubt going to be an interesting Christmas dinner.

Jack straightened up his tie again, before unfolding it and retying it again as he stared at himself in the mirror. This was the first time he and Penny were having their families together for dinner, and after the kiss from the Christmas fair, he wanted to follow up on that. Penny had taken over his mind and senses to the point that he had to see her in person again.

Winter and her 8-year-old sister Nina stood at the corner watching him, with Nina’s twin Alex still upstairs getting ready. “What’s the retying count at now Nina?” Winter asked.

“49, wait, it just got up to 50,” Nina told her.

Winter whistled cooly, “Jeez, that’s a new record.”

“I can hear you both you know!” Jack called to them, “You guys wanna keep standing there or do I need to give Nina’s new toys to the bogeyman.”

“No!” Nina cried, running away back up to her room to check if her new Christmas presents were still intact.

“You don’t need to keep worrying,” Winter walked up to him, shoving his hands away and took his tie into her own, “You were blushing like a tomato after kissing that girl and she was just the same. Just play your cards right, take it slow and things will work out.” She wrapped the tie into a knot.

“That’s easy for the recently engaged lesbian to say,” Jack pointed out, “Which by the way, congratulations again.”

“Thank you,” Winter grinned.

“I just…I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” Jack sighed, “I never thought I deserved someone who could make me this happy. Every time she walks into a room I forget how to breath. I can’t mess this up.”

Winter stopped her hands for a moment, “The only way you’re gonna mess things up is if you let those thoughts win. You’ve been doing great and you told each other what happened when you both were kids and she still wants to see you. Just take a breath, let me fix your tie and just let the night lead itself. I didn’t have much of a plan for proposing to Riley other than doing it on Christmas and she still agreed to marry me. Plans are overrated…sometimes, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Jack nodded, “I do.” He took a breath as Winter finally finished his tie, checking himself out in the mirror. He flashed himself a grin, “Still as handsome as always.”

“And he’s back,” Winter rolled her eyes.

“Ooooh!” Both Jack and Winter turned to the sound of teasing voices, looking up to the stairs and seeing Nina and Alex with mischievous grins on their faces while chanting, “Jack has a girlfriend! Jack has a girlfriend!”

“Jack is gonna give all your gifts to the bogeyman!” He retorted, making the two scream and rush downstairs into the living room.

Meanwhile, Riley was busy helping carry the plates and cutlery to the table making sure everything was carefully placed on the Christmas-snowflake themed tablemats. Winter’s mother, Laura, came in carrying a hot plate of steamed vegetables, focusing on her attention on the food to make sure it wouldn’t fall before Riley came over to take it from her. “Here, Mrs Alvarez,” she said, “Let me.”

“Oh Riley there’s no need,” Laura patted her back, “I just wanted you to relax with Winter, let me and Marcus manage it.”

“I’m going to become part of your family soon. Please, allow me,” Riley persisted, placing down the pot near the centre of the table.

“Oh you’re a good girl Riley,” Laura took Riley’s hand into hers, “It’s no wonder Winter fell in love with you.”

“Mama!” Winter flushed, entering the dining room with Jack hot on her heels, “Please save the embarrassing stuff for the wedding!”

“No Laura continue,” Jack grinned, “This is karma for teasing me about Penny.”

“Oh, Penny Reed?” Winter’s father Marcus entered the dining room, his smile wide and his eyes crinkling with joy. “Winter told me so much about your date with her at the fair. Tell me more about her!”

Shit Jack cursed internally, with Winter sending him a smug look. “Well, I-”

“Yes, do go on,” Riley’s firm voice chided him, almost threatening him to not slip up. “Tell us more about my sister Jack.”

And now he had to tread carefully, especially talking about the younger sister of a 6-foot redhead with the experience of breaking the bones of criminals and throwing people over her shoulder. Please let whatever luck he had be on his side during this moment. “W-well she’s kind, funny,” He gulped as Riley squinted at him, he really didn’t want to die tonight, “And she one of the best people I’ve ever met in my entire life…whenever I’m with her, she makes me the happiest I’ve ever been. I just hope that I’m making her happy too.”

Riley softened a bit, did that mean she approved of his answer or thinking of plans ranging from A to Z to murder him?! This woman terrified him to no end!

“Well, she must be pretty special if you think that of her,” Laura beamed, “I can’t wait to officially meet my other daughter-in-law! Now if you excuse me, I need to get the pork out of the oven.”

“Hang on, I’ll help!” Marcus called after his wife as he trailed after her.

That was when the doorbell rang, light and quick on his feet, Jack bounded for the door. He straightened his jacket and tie one more time, cleared his throat rolled back his shoulder, he could do this. With a turn of the knob, the door swung open, revealing Penny glowing under the moonlight. Suddenly, his voice was cut in his throat and his palms were sweating despite the chill rolling in from the open door. The only word he managed to say was, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she shyly replied, her hands tightening on a small gift bag she brought.

He shook his head quickly, letting himself reboot as he turned to Amber, her smirk held nothing but the knowledge of a woman who knew all too well about what the two felt for one another. “Amber,” he greeted, holding out his hand for her to shake, “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you Jack,” Amber returned the handshake, letting him lead her and Penny into the house before shutting the door behind them. “I see you’ve cleaned up well.” It was a normal sentence, but her words told a totally different story.

Oh, she knew, she really knew! He was an open book and Amber had flicked through every single page. “I-I always dress this nice for Christmas, ma’am,” he stammered, “It wouldn’t be formal of me to not look this good for the holidays.”

Amber hummed, sure she believed what he said, but what Jack failed to realise was that Amber noticed his suit was the colour blue – Penny’s favourite colour.

“Hey mom,” Riley made a beeline to her mother, wrapping her arms around her, “I hope walking here wasn’t too bad with the snow,”

“Don’t worry baby, it was fine,” Amber pressed a kiss to her hair before pulling back, “But enough about me, let me see the ring!”

Riley blushed, unable to hide the giddy smile as she held up her hand.

“Oh my god, Riley!” Penny squealed, hugging her older sister. “Winter got you a good one! I’m so happy for you!”

“I know,” Riley laughed, “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“Actually, that would be me,” Winter slid her arms around fiancé’s waist from behind, resting her head on her shoulder, “I’m the one who’s marrying this beautiful woman.”

“Flattery already?” Riley pressed her cheek against Winter’s, “And the marriage hasn’t even begun.”

“Am I not allowed to compliment my soon-to-be-wife?” Winter kissed Riley’s cheek, “Besides, that’s only 20% of my flattery, I’m saving the other 80% for my vows.”

“Dear god,” Riley slapped her palm against her forehead, knowing Winter, she was going to leave Riley as red as a tomato.

Penny stifled a laugh, Jack screamed internally at the sound. How can anyone be this fucking cute?!

“Penny!” Laura came rushing down the hall, her apron stained with some type of sauce, “I’m so happy we can finally meet.”

She opened her arms, ready to bring Penny in for a hug, only for the girl to freeze and back away. Laura faltered, her brows furrowing with concern at Penny’s startled reaction. Winter was quick to step in.

“Mama, remember,” she told her, “Penny is funny with being touched unless it’s by someone she fully knows and trusts or she’s the one going first.”

“Oh goodness,” Laura gasped, “Penny sweetie I’m so sorry I genuinely forgot!”

“It’s fine, really it’s fine,” Penny reassured her, stepping forward, “Honestly I’m able to tell when it’s a simple mistake.”

Jack’s stomach churned, all those years of bullying and her father berating her made Penny so frightened. He just wanted to shield her from everything bad so that she would never have to feel that sort of fear and pain ever again. Out of anyone in this room, he could relate to that type of fear.

“I’ll make sure to let the others know, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable during your first meal here,” Laura informed her.

“Thank you Mrs Alvarez,” Penny smiled, “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s absolutely no problem honey,” Laura emphasized, “Now I’ve gotta get the rest of these plates out, please, make yourselves at home.” With that, she turned to walk back into the kitchen.

“Here, let me take your coats,” Jack offered, holding his arm out.

“What a gentleman!” Amber gave Penny a look, making the girl glare at her mother, “Penny you better snatch him up before anyone else does.”

“Mom!” Penny hissed. Jack was fairly sure his face resembled the red lights flashing on the Christmas tree.

“Mom, why don’t you and Penny just wait in the living room please!” Riley exasperated, desperate for her mother to not spout out whatever she had in mind.

Amber put her hands up in surrender, “Alright, I yield.”

“Don’t worry Amber,” Winter took the woman’s arm into hers and led her into the living room, “She’s been like that with me whenever I point them out as well.”

“Honestly Winter, what it your fiancé like?” she joked, leaving Riley gaping behind them.

“I heard that!” Riley hollered, chasing after them, leaving Jack and Penny alone in the hallway together.

Jack took this moment to take in the garment she was wearing. It was a simple crimson dress with a floor length pleated skirt, long off-the-shoulder bell sleeves and a ruffled neckline. “You look…wow,” he breathed, how was she able to take something so simple and still look so stunning? She truly was remarkable.

“Thanks,” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “I wasn’t gonna wear it but I thought that it would be nice for this evening.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he knew what he said, and he wasn’t going to take it back, not when she peered up at him through her long lashes with a gasp.

“Y-you’re ridiculous,” she uttered, handing him her jacket.

“Hey, just telling the truth here,” he replied as he went to hang up her jacket on the wall, “Besides, someone’s gotta point out how pretty you are.”

“Keep the chivalry to yourself sir,” Penny placed a hand on her hip.

“Can’t help it, I’m dreamy,” he was unable to keep the grin off his face at her pout. His face softened, holding out his arm, “Shall we?”

Penny raised a brow at him, grinning. “Mr Jack how thoughtful of you.”

“Well I have to put the wellbeing of our guests first,” He joked back, “Let me introduce you to everyone else.”

Penny nodded and slipped her arm into his, the two unable to fight of the chortles at their current predicament. He led her into the living room, Amber was already sitting down talking to Riley and Winter. On the sofa across from them was another couple around Marcus and Laura’s age. “Penny, this is Winter’s aunt and uncle, Anya and Winston.” he introduced. She gave them a nod before Jack led her to another young woman around her age. “This is their daughter Kiara.”

“It’s really nice to meet you Penny,” Kiara greeted.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Penny returned.

Winston spoke up, “Laura’s been talking nonstop about ‘Jack’s new sweetheart,’ so it’s nice to finally meet the lovely lady in person.”

“Of course Laura’s been talking about us,” Jack groaned, Penny had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“She’s so pretty Jack!” Anya gushed from her seat, “Where did you find this lovely girl?”

Both of them paled, sharing a look. The story about how they met was always going to be an awkward one, wasn’t it? They were saved by the sound of thundering feet descending down the stairs as Nina and Alex came bounding over to Jack and clutched each of his leg.

“Jack!” Nina cheered, “Penny’s here!”

“Yes, I can see that-ah-guys let go!” He stumbled over his feet and words, how much sugar did these two have earlier?

“Jack has a girlfriend! Jack has a girlfriend!” Alex chanted.

Penny and Jack spluttered over their words, at a loss of what they heard. “We’re not-” Penny gasped.

“It’s not like that-!” Jack objected “We’re just-”

“-Friends!” They chorused. Friends yes, that was what they were, but it just didn’t sound like something they wanted to continue being. They were unable to keep the daydreams of each other away anymore, to constantly wonder what the other was doing, what other hobbies they might have, if the other felt the same way.

“Nina, Alex!” Laura came back through again, the apron gone as she took each twin’s arm in her hands and pulled them off Jack, much to his relief. “That’s enough harassing Jack, dinner is ready.”

“I can’t wait to see what you’ve made this year Laura,” Winston clapped his hands together.

“I’ve gotta say I’m pretty excited to eat what you’ve made as well,” Amber got up, “As well as the table gossip as well.” She gestured to Jack and Penny.

“Oh Amber you must sit next to me, I have so much to share,” Laura not-so-subtly gestured to Jack and Penny.

Both mothers grinned, leaving Jack and Penny flustered messes unable to move from their spots.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Jack unlinked his arm, immediately missing Penny’s warmth.

“No, I should be sorry,” Penny objected, “My mom can be a lot sometimes.”

“Well I guess that’s just another thing we have in common,” Jack nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I think so,” Penny’s embarrassment began to slip away, Jack’s seemingly doing so as well.

“Penny!” Riley interjected, taking her sister’s hand, “Sit next to me!”

“But I-woah!” Riley dragged her younger sister into the dining room, plopping her down to the seat on Riley’s left while Winter sat on Riley’s right. Guess she was still a bit protective.

“What are you waiting for over there dude? Come on!” Winter waved a hand over.

Jack let out a slow breath as he walked over, sitting opposite from Penny. At least it would be easier to talk to her face to face without twisting his head. Soon, everyone was loading pork, bread and steamed vegetables onto their plates, Kiara was taking photos of her food with Anya scolding her to put her phone away, Winston was already scooping up spoonful’s into his mouth, Nina and Alex grimaced at the greens on their plates and asking when dessert was, Laura was pouring wine into her and Amber’s glasses before clinking them together, Marcus was listing off each shop he had to visit just to make sure he got every right ingredient for tonight’s meal, Winter and Riley were holding hands and had all their focus on each other instead of the food in front of them, and Penny and Jack kept trading small glances while eating, their eyes holding their own conversation as the drowned everyone else out.

“So Jack,” Anya piped up, “Do you have any plans once you graduate?”

“Uh, what?” he barely registered the question until it finally caught up to him. “Oh, right! Um, I’m trying to apply for an internship at this game company called C&A, they hire a lot of indie and free-lancing creators and help promote their games so I’m hoping to get a place there.”

“I think you’ll get it,” Penny said, “I’ve seen some of the stuff Jack worked on, he’s really talented.”

“And so are you little lady,” he said that mostly to see her cute pout again, “Laura, did you know that Penny is a costume designer?”

“I did,” Laura nodded, “And I’ve seen some of the pictures of her creations that you showed me, Penny you really do have a talent.”

“She’s been designing ever since she was six,” Riley said, “I have no idea where she gets her ideas from, it’s incredible.”

“It meets the bar at least,” Penny objected, “Trust me there’s people in my class that are way better than I am.”

“Don’t sell yourself short Pen, every time you send me a picture of something you’ve made It just shows how creative you are. Someone’s gonna reach out to you one day and say ‘Penny, you are one of the most talented people in the world and I wanna hire you!’ it’ll happen one day, I swear on it, after all I’m never wrong,” Jack said, pointing his fork at her.

“You? Never wrong?” Penny said doubtingly.

“What? I’ll have you know I’m very smart,” he frowned mockingly.

“I’m gonna have to agree with my sister there,” Riley said.

“Oh come on!” Jack cried and turned to Winter, “A little help here?”

“Why, everything they said is true,” she chortled.

Jack moaned as the rest of the table laughed, clearly taking pride in his misery.

Penny’s giggles died down, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye as she faced him again, “Well hopefully someone will take pity on my designs one day.”

“You mean someone will see how exceptional you are,” Jack pointed out.

“Awfully generous but sure, we’ll stick with that,” Penny rolled her eyes fondly.

“Let’s just hope he says what he means instead of talking out of his ass,” Riley quipped.

Penny threw her sister a look, “Riley,”

“What?” Riley shrugged her shoulder, “I’m not saying he’s wrong.”

Amber raised a brow at her daughter. It was a joke, she knew that was going to happen. But she knew Riley long enough to know when her daughter was hiding something, and more importantly, when Riley was hurting.

“Speaking of designs,” Penny said, “Riley, you gotta let me make your dress.”

“What, you don’t need to do that, I just want you to enjoy the wedding,” Riley interjected.

“Can’t hear you, I’m too busy thinking about your dress since I’m the best sister ever,” Penny gave her sister a sly grin.

Riley huffed a laugh, once her sister was inspired nothing could stop her.

“Jack?” Nina piped up.

“What’s up squirt?”

“Can you sing ‘No Girl’s Toy? after dessert?” she pleaded.

“Yeah, “No Girl’s Toy!” Alex cheered with his sister, “Oh please Jack, please sing that!”

Jack flushed, waving his hands in exasperation, “Woah, woah hang on! I’m not singing that!”

“Please Jack, please!” The twins chorused.

“It’s just a little song Jack,” Winter jeered, Jack glared at her.

“Yeah,” Riley joined in on her fiancé’s antics, “What’s so wrong with the Raggedy Andy song Jack?”

“I sung that one time and suddenly whenever it’s brought up I’m forced to sing it!” he told them, “I’m putting my foot down on this one, there’s no way that any of you can convince me too-”

“Raggedy Ann was my favourite movie growing up,” Penny mentioned, “I’d love to hear you sing that song. Please?”

Oh god, Penny’s chocolate brown eyes had such an effective grip on him, how on earth could he say no to those lovely eyes? He sighed, “Fine, one song and that’s it.”

“Yay!” The twins cheered before tucking back into their meal.

“You should bring Penny over more often,” said Alex.

“Yeah she makes you do fun stuff,” Nina agreed.

“It is very interesting how easily swayed you were,” Laura joined in.

Jack wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole, he was being way too obvious with how he felt. “Please, I just want to eat my food without any further humiliation.”

“You know Marcus, he’s acting just like you before you started going out with Laura,” Winston said, “The red face, being easily swayed, the teasing. I’m getting a bit of déjà vu here.”

Jack bit down on his fork hard as Penny began to quietly squeal like a kettle, this night was already too much for the both of them.

After dinner and dessert was finished, Riley was helping Laura wash up the dishes despite the woman requesting Riley to sit down. “Laura, do you mind if I have a word with my daughter?” Amber asked, entering the kitchen.

“Oh, of course,” Laura said before turning back to Riley again, “Remember sweetie, you’re our guest, make sure you relax tonight.”

“Just after I’m finished with this dish Mrs Alvarez,” Riley continued to scrub the plate, “Than I’ll relax.”

Laura patted her back, leaving the mother and daughter in the kitchen alone together. “Is everything okay with you?” Amber asked.

“What do you mean?” Riley didn’t take her eyes off the plate.

“I mean with Jack and Penny,” Amber told her, “I thought you were fine with him back when you started dating Winter.”

“I am,” Winter dried off the plate and put it away, “If this is about Penny, that’s just me being protective.”

“I know that,” Amber walked over to her, “But I also noticed that you seemed a bit aggravated towards him.”

Riley whipped round, “No I wasn’t, I was just looking out for Penny.”

“Penny is a grown adult who can make her own choices,” Amber walked closer to her, “Riley, baby, why are you so worried?”

“Come on mom, you aren’t at least a little bit worried?” Riley argued, “You aren’t worried that he’s like the boys from Penny’s high school. Penny’s got a sensitive heart, what if he breaks it like they did? Those boys didn’t actually like her, they wanted to control her. And once she didn’t give them what they wanted they would just dump her! What if he’s like that, what if he makes her hate herself? What if he makes her so scared to the point she stops talking again? What if we actually lose her? What if-”

“-If he’s like David,” Amber finished for her, “That’s what it is, right?”

Riley froze, part of her knew that this was why she was so scared for her younger sister, but she wanted David out of her mind. He already tried to force himself back into Riley’s life many times to ask for money, and she never forgave him for involving Penny in that car crash. She hated him, she hated him so much that she would never let anyone else hurt Penny like that again, she failed with David, she failed with those stupid high school boys and she won’t make that mistake ever again. “I have to be careful mom,” Riley said to her mother, “I can’t let Penny feel that kind of pain again.”

“I know baby,” Amber said, “When I heard of Jack and Penny seeing each other I got worried as well. It’s always my first instinct. But now, I know that I can’t let David control what could actually be good for Penny, I won’t let him get into my head like that. I’m still scared, baby believe me, but not as much as I used to be.” She cupped her daughter’s cheek, gently lifting her head to meet her eyes, “David hurt you too Riley, I know you hate thinking about him, but you’re allowed to feel betrayed as well. If I ever made you feel that you weren’t allowed to hurt for what he did to you, I’m so sorry. I’m your mother and I’m supposed to protect my babies. Yes, I protected Penny, but don’t think for a second I won’t protect you too, even after you’ve left the nest.”

Amber held her arms out for her daughter. After so much anger and frustrations for her father after so long, Riley all but broke in her mother’s arms, Amber stroking her hair and whispering comforts into her ear. “It’s okay baby, I’m here, mama’s here.”

A soft sniffle made them turn to the doorway, seeing Penny there with a few leaked tears. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she whimpered, “Can I have a hug too?”

Riley and Amber opened their arms for her, letting the youngest daughter cry along with them as their mother squeezed them both. In that moment, Riley wasn’t an engaged woman and Penny wasn’t an aspiring college student. They were just the 10- and 14-year-old girls letting their mother sooth them after so much pain.

After a while, their tears were dried and the three headed back into the living room. Everyone rushed up to them, panicking and asking them if they were all right. They told the rest of the family that they were fine, just a mother and her two daughters picking up a few fallen pieces.

It wasn’t until Penny erupted into a fit of giggles, seeing Jack being the one to pout this time as he held up a microphone and had the TV ready to play ‘No Girl’s Toy.’ Everyone was immediately seated, ready to hear the performance.

“I hope my suffering entertains you monsters,” he mumbled, before pressing play on the music. He gave out one final sigh before he began to sing.

Well, you can push me, shove me, turn me around, but I'm no girl's toy!

You can tie me, toss me, upside or down, but I'm no girl's toy!

I sing my own sweet melody, I go my own sweet way.

I won't beg 'round tomorrow for the kind of affection that was free today!

Oh, you can squeeze me, tease me; say I'm your own but I'm no girl's toy!

You can charm me, chase me, follow me home; I won't be coy!

You may not like it much but I'm my own best boy,

And not some sugar and spicy, lacy and nicey, sissy you're gonna enjoy!

No, I'm no girl's toy!

Everyone applauded and clapped as he continued to sing. He was embarrassed, that was for sure. But seeing Penny so carefree and happy, no worries and stress in those beautiful eyes of hers, just having fun with everyone else, he would sing this song for the rest of his life as long as she was happy. He was unable to stop his pleased smile while he sang.

Riley rested her head on Winter’s shoulder, she didn’t need to say anything for Winter to know when her fiancé needed her. She kept looking between Jack and Penny, just seeing what he would do for her, she knew that he wasn’t a bad person, although her protectiveness would always take over her senses. However she knew that Penny had to do this on her own, but for the first time in a while, she believed that her little sister was safe.

Spring had arrived, the perfect atmosphere for Riley and Winter’s wedding to take place. They had booked a hotel for the night and rented out it’s ballroom for tonight’s event. There was only one thing on everyone’s minds, make sure this wedding went off without a hitch.

Since Christmas, Penny had put all her focus on making the perfect dress for Riley, something that was pristine and bridal while also making sure that this dress was something only Riley would wear. Jack had facetimed her every time she was sewing, making sure she was getting on well with the dress while also making sure she was eating and drinking enough fluids. He had also seen the final result of the dress and he was determined that once Winter saw Riley walking down the isle wearing that, she would promptly burst into tears.

After hours of setting up flowers and decorations, making sure the place was spotless, the meals were delicious, the dance floor was ready, getting changed into their wedding outfits and the chocolate fondue was prepared, everyone could finally breathe until the wedding officially begun.

Jack was currently standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for Winter to walk up with her father. That would be the order, the brides would wait in their dressing rooms, wait for one of them to walk up the aisle first before leaving their own room to walk up as well, in order for neither of them to see their gowns.

He wore a black tux with a simple white blouse underneath, fiddling with his cuffs one more time before resting his hands. Of course Winter had asked him to be her best man, it was expected since he was practically her adopted brother. Alex was beside him, standing proud and taking his job as the ring bearer seriously. He ruffled the boy’s hair, making him laugh before Laura sent a look to the boys, telling them to behave.

Everyone straightened up when the music began. The doors opened, revealing Nina as the flower girl, spreading flowers across the aisle as a few bridesmaids followed, including Kiara, each of them wearing soft silvery grey dresses. There was a swell of pride when he watched Winter walk through the doors and up the aisle, her arm secured in Marcus’s as the man led his daughter up while his eyes welled with tears. Winter wore a snow-white gown with a full-layered skirt while her bodice consisted of a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps. Some would call it simple, Winter called it timeless.

Once she arrived at the top of the aisle, her father kissed her on the cheek and whispered praise into her ear. It was only when she stood at the top and her father sat down, Jack noticed her clutching her bouquet of roses while trembling like a leaf. He leaned over and whispered, “You’re okay. Riley has been head over heals with you ever since you met.”

“What if she changes her mind?” she whispered back, “What if she realises we’re too different and leaves?”

“That’s not possible,” he told her, “You too are proof of the carrot cake theory working.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, baffled.

“The carrot cake theory,” he said, “You love it and Riley hates it, yet she always brought a freshly homemade carrot cake because you it’s your favourite. You too are proof that the theory works, that opposites attract.”

Winter snorted, “You just blatantly ripped off the olive theory.”

“Mine is better,” he sniffed, “Besides, it got you to stop shaking.”

Winter looked down at her hands, he was right, she had stopped shaking. The doors opened and Winter’s breath hitched as she gawked at her bride. Riley’s arm was in her mothers, her dress was an off-the-shoulder mermaid cut with a train, the white fabric adorned with glittered floral embroidery and long sleeves. The dress clung to her, Winter let a few tears fall, she was beautiful.

Jack was taken aback to, not by the bride, but by her maid of honour. Penny’s dress wasn’t as grand, yes, but he couldn’t take her eyes off her as she followed her sister. Her dress consisted of a purplish rouge chiffon fabric, a long A-line skirt, a straight across neckline and long balloon sleeves. He fell in love all over again.

Once Riley reached the end of the aisle, her hands latched onto Winter’s as Jack and Penny took a hold of their bouquets. Both brides were focused on each other, nothing else mattered. Once Amber sat down, did the wedding begin.

“Dearly beloved,” the officiator spoke, “We are gathered here today for the wonderful union of Riley Reed and Amber Alvarez. These two have proven that despite our differences, there is a love that can be found no matter what. Today, we are here to celebrate that love as these lovely ladies become not just married, but soulmates on this day. Winter, your vows.”

Winter took a shaky breath, “Riley, when I first met you, I won’t lie, I was a bit scared of you,” That earned a laugh from the crowd. “But after getting to know you, knowing how much you love your family, what you’ll do to make sure our clients get the justice they deserve, and knowing that despite your front, you are one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Riley began to cry as well, unable to keep all the affection she felt for this woman at bay. With the officiator’s okay, she began her speech. “Winter, every time I look at you I just keep asking myself, how did I get so lucky? How did I deserve the most perfect girl in the world? You look at the world with such positivity and kindness that I couldn’t not fall in love with you. Every time I look at you, you remind me why I became a private investigator, to help amazing people like you make the world a better place. I just…I really fucking love you Winter!”

Winter gave her a wet laugh, God she wanted to kiss her so bad.

“Winter,” the officiator said, “Do you take Riley Reed to be your wife, in sickness and in health, until the day you part, may you be together?”

“I do!” Winter replied immediately.

“And do you Riley-”

“I do, a thousand times I do!” Riley couldn’t stop the tears, not caring if her makeup got ruined.

“May we have the rings?” the officiator asked. Alex puffed his chest and beamed, carrying the rings over to the brides. The women thanked the young boy as the slipped each ring onto each other’s finger before holding hands again. “By the power vested in me, I know pronounce you too married. You may kiss the-”

The two didn’t wait for the officiator to finished before slamming their lips against each other’s, the crowd erupting into applause. Jack’s focus wasn’t on the couple though, his eyes travelled to Penny as she cheered for her older sister. Her eyes met Jack’s, the two of them just staring for a moment before giving each other a smile. It was in the moment that the two decided internally that one day, they wanted to have this moment and say ‘I do’ to one another. Tonight, they decided, would be the night that they would stop being ‘friends.’

The dance floor was empty apart from the newlyweds, holding each other in their arms as they let the music carry their slow steps. They weren’t able to keep their hands off each other since they were married, afraid that if they did then everything would disappear. By the time the first dance ended, the music picked up the pace and everyone was on the dance floor, dancing the night away, congratulating the couple and unafraid to be slightly more than tipsy.

Winter and Riley even threw their bouquets, having their backs turned to make sure it would be a surprise. When they turned round, they saw that Winter’s bouquet was held by one of the bridesmaids, and Riley’s was plopped into Penny’s hands.

“Penny’s gonna marry Jack!” Nina bellowed, she already had too much sugar from the fondue. It didn’t stop everyone whispering knowingly, apart from Riley still giving Jack the evil eye. However, Jack and Penny didn’t mind the teasing this time, after all, even if they didn’t confess yet, their feelings were mutual.

A while later, after dancing, talking and snacking, Jack pulled away from the buzz to get some fresh air on the balcony. He felt his heart take a leap when he saw Penny outside as well, her long hair flowing in the soft spring wind, taking in the quiet. He gently opened the door, trying not to startle her, though it seemed that he didn’t need to worry about that when she turned and noticed him, she must’ve sensed him coming outside.

“Need a break?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, going up to rest his arms on the stone rail, “I was also hoping to see you as well.”

“I guess it’s a win-win situation,” she gently nudged his shoulder with hers. He was glad that he was part of her inner circle of people she was comfortable touching. “So, Riley and Winter are finally married.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t do so sooner,” he reflected the first time Winter brought Riley home, how they would giggle and fawn over each other as Riley was introduced to Winter’s parents, “I felt like I was gonna go insane with how much they made goo-goo eyes at each other.”

“They still do that,” Penny replied, “And I think its gonna amplify now that they’re married.”

“Oh jeez,” he put a hand to his head, listening to Penny’s sweet giggle. He took in the situation at hand, they were on the balcony together talking and having fun with all the space they needed to talk about their feelings. Maybe this was his chance, “Although I will admit, I am a little jealous. It would be pretty nice to have someone to do all that sappy stuff with.”

“O-oh,” Penny was taken aback a little bit, the thought of he and her doing all sorts of couple things rushing through her mind. Wanting to spend all his time with her, holding her hand, whispering sweet nothings when no one was looking. “I wanna do that too, you know, with the right person.”

Jack fiddled with the cuffs on his sleeves, this was it, “And what is the ‘right person’ that you have in mind?”

Penny gulped, okay, now it was getting serious, no turning back. “Well, I’d like him to be funny, kind, respectful to his and my family. Someone who has my back no matter what. Someone who makes sure that I feel like I deserve to be here. Someone who…sees me.”

She said, oh she said it! Did this mean she felt the same, only one way to find out. “Is that so little lady?” he took in her blush and nod, “Well, I bet he’s very handsome, jaw-droppingly if you will.”

Penny’s blush faded as she let out a chortle, “Did I forget to mention he’s full of himself?”

Jack placed his hand dramatically on his chest, “Why Penny how rude! It’s takes guts for someone to admit when they’re good looking.”

“Guts? Or an ego that’s too big to fit his head?” she began to belly laugh at his frown, clutching her sides as she clutched her ribs.

“Oh? Well that’s too bad little lady, I was just about to describe my ‘right’ person,” he chuckled as she straightened back up, “But it you don’t wanna hear it-”

“Alright, you smug bastard,” she sighed fondly, “Tell me, what are they like?”

“Well, let’s see,” he tapped his chin in false thought, “She’s extremely talented, always puts her family first, has one of the cutest laughs in the world.” Taking a chance, he tucked a piece of her hair behind her skin, his skin tingling as he made contact with hers, “Insanely beautiful…who sees me too…and is very short.”

“I will bite you,” Penny snarled, but she held no threat in her tone.

Jack’s face softened, “And, I want to hold her, tell her how much I love her and be with her as long as she lets me.”

Penny’s shivered at his tone, if he were talking about her (and she really hoped he was) then she had to do this next part carefully, “And if you were with this girl right now, how would you tell her about how you feel?”

Jack gulped, time to take the plunge, “I would tell her that I’m not a perfect person, but I am someone who’s always trying. You’ve taken over my mind and have stolen my heart, but I can’t find it in myself to care as long as it’s in your hands.” He took her hands in his at those words, “I just hope that she feels the same way.”

Penny’s heart fluttered, squeezing his hand in return as a swell of joy rushed through her from head to toe, “She does! She really does!”

Jack exhaled sharply, he couldn’t believe it! She likes him back! She wanted to be with him! “I wanna kiss you so badly right now,” he clamped his mouth shut when he realised what came out his mouth. They just confessed and now he was admitting that he wanted to kiss her, and just when he thought he was being smooth.

“Okay,” Penny peered up at him through her lashes.

Jack gaped at her, “Pen, you don’t want to if you don’t want to.”

“Trust me,” she cupped his cheek, “I really want this.” Despite her initial shock, she oh so badly wanted to kiss him back. Ever since the Christmas fair she was unable to spot thinking about his lips on her forehead, or how they would feel on her lips. “Are you gonna keep gawking or do I need to make the first move?” she teased.

Both of his hands were suddenly cupping her cheeks, cutting her off. He gave her one more look, a silent request to do this. When she nodded, he immediately planted his lips on hers. She was so soft, so sweet, so amazing! God he loved her!

She returned the kiss with the same warmth he gave her, with one hand on his cheek she used the other to pull him in closer by the waist. His lips felt the same as they did on her forehead, but somehow so different on her lips. No one ever kissed her like this before, like she really mattered to them. But with Jack, his mouth matched his promise he told to her, and she never wanted him to stop.

They parted for a moment to catch their breaths, grinning as they rested their foreheads together. “So,” she took in another lungful of air, “Does this mean you like me back?”

He smirked, taking her chin between his thumb and finger, “You tell me little lady, or would you rather I show and not tell with another kiss.”

“The second option please,” she grinned back.

He was about to dive back into her lips when a gasp made them both freeze. By the doors, Amber stood with a glass of wine, she was probably out here to get some air as well. “I knew it!” she squealed, “I knew you were gonna confess tonight! Laura owes me ten bucks!”

“Mom!” Penny gasped, clutching herself closer to Jack to save herself from embarrassment.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll keep this between you and me. Besides, this is something that you’ll want to tell Riley by yourself,” Amber added, making both Penny and Jack pale at the thought of her older sister finding out. “Like I said, I’ll keep this to myself. Oh and Penny? Make sure you use the makeup wipes I gave you before you go back inside, the corner of your lip is smudged.”

Penny all but squealed in mortification into Jack’s chest after her mother went back inside, the man stroking her back as he chuckled. “Well, she does have a point,” he mentioned, “We don’t want the first thing that Riley sees when we go back in is smudged lip gloss.”

“Don’t single yourself out mister,” she poked him in the chest, “You’re wearing it too.”

“Oh really? Is it a good colour on me?” He leant in closer.

Penny mumbled shyly under her breath, God she was just too cute. “Wanna say that again little lady?” he asked.

“I said, how about you kiss me again if you like my lip gloss so much,” she pouted, the blush on his face was worth it though.

Jack huffed a laugh and pulled her in closer, “Now that sweetie, can be arranged.”

And just like that, they dove back into another kiss, enjoying only themselves without anyone else to interrupt their moment. It was just them, the moon and the start of their new relationship. And they couldn’t wait to see what else was in store for them.

Jax stirred lightly, stiff from laying against the ground. He must’ve slid down the hedge and onto the plush grass in his sleep, oh well, the grass was comfier. He could feel his lips burn from where Penny kissed Jack, as though he were the one who kissed her. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? There was no way that actually happened.

He was about to move when he felt a light weight on his chest. Looking down, he saw Pomni curled up next to him, hugging his side as she snored softly while using his upper body as a pillow for her head. Why wasn’t he shoving her off or telling her to get lost? Why was he growing flustered by the second and praying that she couldn’t hear his quickening heart rate? He could feel his tail wagging underneath him, was he actually happy about this predicament? There was no way!

He felt her shift beside him, mumbling gibberish in her sleep before cuddling him closer. Cute…wait, no it’s not! Get yourself together Jax! But there wasn’t any denying it though, no matter how much he wanted to, yesterday’s revelation just proved to him that he felt some sort of attachment to the jester and it was driving him up the wall. Her hat had also slid of her head, revealing short yet soft looking locks. The way it framed her face ever so gently with its wisped strands, oh god she was killing him.

He let his temptation win, reaching his hand out to touch it when she suddenly woke up, barely processing what was happening until she saw that she was firmly cuddling into this side while he was reaching towards her. “You got a loose hair there, sweetie,” he tried to squash down the awkwardness, trying to bring up his charm to save himself.

It seemed that it didn’t work as she squealed and pulled away from him as though he burned her, he wasn’t gonna lie, it kind of stung a bit. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t even know that I was doing that!” she fumbled over her words, grabbing her hat and screaming into it.

“It’s fine,” he sighed, standing up and stretching. “We should keep going, make use of the time we have.”

Pomni looked up, still clutching her hat. She was glad that he wasn’t mad, but why wasn’t he? If it were anyone else she was shore he would have told them to get lost, why did he leave her be? Her dream from last night made this moment even more flustering for her, the memory of Jack kissing Penny with such passion was burned into the back of her mind and the minute she woke up she was cuddling into Jax! The universe had to be out to get her.

“Hey, you awake in there?” he pointed to her forehead, “I said we should keep going.”

“W-what?” oh right, they still had to get out of the maze. The long…long maze, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

It seemed that the awkward silence had carried over from last night during their trek through the winding paths, neither of them not knowing what to say and their dreams invading every single thought they had. But besides the kiss, Jax thought of the family that brought Jack into their home. They shared no blood but treated him as though he were their son, making sure he was fed, happy and safe despite the occasional teasing. His mind drifted to Laura, how she cared for each one of her children, with the care and love that a mother should, it made him think of…

He looked to Pomni, who also seemed to be deep in thought, he made sure that she wouldn’t bump into anything. He felt bad for snapping at her yesterday, and the words she said to him afterwards cut deep. It was the first time in so long that someone called him out in a way that hollowed him to his core, to just step back and really think. Maybe that was what he needed. “Do you remember yesterday when Caine mentioned I used to know someone?” he spoke up.

Pomni’s head snapped up to him, his voice drowning out the deafening silence they stewed in for quite some time. “Y-yeah, why?”

“Well, when I arrived,” he started, “I remember that I didn’t know anything about my past, I was stuck in a body I didn’t know and all I could remember feeling was regret and fear. I acted a lot like a wounded animal, just screaming at people to stay away. It worked on everyone…except for Queenie.”

Pomni gasped, she had heard of Queenie and seen her door crossed off. The unsaid implication of her abstraction was what chilled Pomni’s spine, no one had to say anything to know what happened to her, but she never realised Jack was close to her.

“Well, she was the only one who wasn’t really phased by me,” he continued, “She made sure that I wasn’t alone, told me the stuff to look out for and sometimes Kinger would join her with helping me out, it’s strange to think about, back then he was more sane than he is now. I won’t lie, there were times that I was a little sh77t, but I’m grateful that she was willing to help me out. It helped me feel less scared, and sometimes I wondered if I had a mother in my past life that was like Queenie. But soon, I started seeing less and less of Queenie, everyone was starting to get worried. Any time we would see her she was always talking about an exit. I was also looking for one as well, collecting keys hoping that one of them would lead to an exit. One day, I told her about and maybe she could use on of them so it could help her mission…the next day she abstracted. Kinger was never the same after that, I wasn’t really sure if those two were together or not, but it was obvious how strong their bond was. Ever since then he started rambling about his ‘insect collection,’ I don’t know if it was to distract him from the grief or if it was a factor of him going crazy. All I knew was if I didn’t give Queenie that key, she would still be here. If I didn’t try and escape, Kinger would still have his sanity left. It’s better that everyone hates me, all I am is this a%%hole rabbit who killed their oldest friend. It’s no wonder they hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Pomni said, making him turn to her, “That situation wasn’t your fault, it was just an awful place in time that no one could control. And I don’t think the others hate you too, I mean, did you even ask them?”

Jax sighed, “No, my mind just immediately believed that everyone hated me. Honestly, I wanted them to, it’ll make things a bit easier.”

“Yeah,” Pomni nodded, before paling at her word choice, “Not about everyone hating you, I meant about making things easier. Facing the bad stuff is scary, when I first got here I denied that this was real and that it was a dream. But at the end of it all, I had to accept that this was my reality, even if I didn’t like it. But I’m not gonna let it stop me from trying to leave, don’t let what happened to Queenie stop you from thinking that you deserve to be hated, you don’t. Maybe the others won’t forgive you immediately, but you can at least make a start.”

“We’ll see,” he gave her a soft grin, she was smiling back proudly. It was starting to get a bit too mushy now, so he pushed her hat over her eyes.

“Hey!” she squealed, she didn’t seem to mind that. She readjusted her hat and crossed her arms, “Really?”

“This is me we’re taking about. Besides, it was too easy Pom-pom,” he chuckled as she let out a groan.

“You’re not funny,” she walked up ahead, keeping the banter afloat as they continued to travel.

“No, I’m hilarious,” he retorted, “It’s not my fault you’re so uncultured short stack.”

She whipped back round at him with a pretend offended expression, “I’m not short!”

“Okay,” Jax snickered, “Come back to me about that were you grow 2 inches.”

She groaned dramatically, “You’re the worst!”

“True,” he picked her up as she let out a yip and placed her on his shoulders, “And I also have longer legs, I’ll get us to the exit faster.”

“Hey!” Pomni giggled, holding onto his head, “Put me down you giant!”

“But I need you to be my second pair of eyes short stack,” he patted her leg, “Just point out if you see anything and I’ll be your steering wheel.”

Despite the light teasing, she knew he was right, they would find the exit to the maze quicker if they worked like this, “Fine!...tall ass.”

“Say that again?” he quired.

“Nothing!” Pomni said.

Jax shrugged and continued walking. After a while, it seemed that the awkwardness had finally died down, leaving the two to engage in light conversations while searching for the exit. It was then they realised that they had forgotten about their dreams, not fully but they were so focused on one another, enjoying one another, they didn’t find the time to really think about them.

It still took them a bit of time, but eventually, to both of their relief and slight disappointment, they found the exit, the circus tent just down the path in front of them. Pomni jumped off Jax’s shoulders, there was no need for him to keep carrying down that they were back.

“I guess that marks the end of this adventure,” Pomni rubbed her arm, was she upset that this was over? Or was she upset that she couldn’t spend time with Jax anymore?

“Yeah, the end,” Jax nodded, as much as he didn’t want to be part of this little maze escapade, he’ll admit it, it was better with Pomni being here. In fact, he wouldn’t mind being around her more often. “You know, I’ve noticed that whenever you’re on your own, you’re either hyper focused on every single little thing to the point where it stresses you out of your in your own little world while dissociating. Sometimes you’re so in your head that you fail to notice when someone’s coming right at ya. Whether it be Caine with one of his adventures or one of the others fooling around.”

“That tends to happen a lot,” she confessed, “It’s either one or the either, there’s not an in between. It’s kinda a problem.”

“Well, I have a proposition for you,” he said, she perked up, “Until you feel like you understand this place a little more, I’ll be there to make you don’t have one of your episodes. Whether you’re spiralling or hyper focusing, I’ll be here to ground you in case that happens.”

“Really?” her eyes widened with joy at his offer, “You’d do that for me?”

“Just until you’re more aware of your surroundings,” he told her, “After all, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Ah, right,” she gave him a joking grin, “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to that.”

“See, now you’re getting it,” he agreed, returning her grin.

The way he was leaning in, the way her heart sped up at their newly found teasing of each other, the way that the sense of déjà vu kept creeping in as though they had done this song and dance before. She ready did fall for him, didn’t she? She cleared her throat, “Well, good to know you’ve got my back, thank you again Jax. We should head in so no one’s worrying about us.”

“Works for me,” he nodded, his face suddenly becoming gentler, “And, you’re welcome.”

Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush. “Race you inside!” she zoomed off, leaving the rabbit to laugh to himself.

“She sure is something else, huh?” he said to himself, his thoughts flooding with her again, he didn’t to anything to spot it, only letting it flow.

Pomni-Pomni-Pomni-Pomni-Pomni-Pen-

“Jax! You coming?” Pomni called out to him.

He blinked, what was that? What was his last thought about? He looked towards Pomni, suddenly forgetting that sudden glitch as he raced towards her, wanting to challenge the jester that captured his affections. “Are you sure sweetie?” he ran in her direction, “My longer legs might be more effective than yours short stack!”

“I’ll make you eat those words!” she snickered as he chased after her.

It was just a glitch.

Only a glitch.

#spoilers it was not just a 'glitch'#the amazing digital circus #tadc #pomni #jax #ragatha #zooble #kinger #gangle #caine #pomnijax #funnybunny #my writing #dragon rambles #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #Instagram #pomni x jax

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wsdanon · 1 month

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hi \o/ i mentioned a while ago i was likely going to be posting more wips here--especially if i'm going a while without posting actual fics. this one is a fuga four pirate au \o/

like with the vampire au, i have some information surrounding what is actually written here (backstory + future plot), but i'm unlikely to continue writing it right now due to having other multi-chaptered fics to focus on. anything else at the moment will likely be wip snippets like this one

it's 3k words, but it cuts off pretty abruptly. reblogs appreciated \o/

Honestly, this isn’t Pac’s worst day. It’s pretty up there, but going to jail and losing his leg manages to beat it out.

After all, this is just a local jail. More of a holding cell than anything. For petty crimes or executions. Pac, luckily, is in for the former. Unluckily for him, he’s separated from Mike and hasn’t been able to breathe properly since they threw him in here.

He’ll be spending a week in here, or until bail.

It’s only been a day. And excuse him for being dramatic, but he doesn’t think he’s going to make it.

He can imagine Mike is probably weighing up the pros and cons of staging a breakout. After all, it’s only a week. Breaking out might just put an unnecessary target on their backs, and they’ll have to move towns again.

Logically, he gets that.

In reality he’s in the corner of the cell with his knees hugged tight to his chest. The cell is big enough that from here he can’t see the guard—which is both a blessing and a curse.

He’s fine being alone. But being separated from Mike makes his skin itch. He’s almost desperate for any kind of company, even if it’s just some bored guard not paying attention to him.

And then—like his prayers are answered—he hears two sets of footsteps, and the cell door unlocking. He looks up to see a man being shoved—stumbling, but not falling—and the door being slammed shut again behind him.

“Well…” The man shrugs, and sighs, and turns to inspect his new quarters. His eyes catch on Pac’s. A pretty smile crosses his face. “Oh! Hi!”

“Uh… hi.” Pac uncurls himself from his corner, and gets to his feet. “Nice to meet you?”

“Nice to meet you!” He sticks out his hand for Pac to shake. Pac’s eyes catch on the pirate branding on his wrist. “I’m Captain Felps. To some.”

“To some?”

Felps makes a hesitant noise before admitting, “Felps who crashed the boat to others.”

Pac laughs, and shakes his hand. He should really be more hesitant—it’s always a gamble with pirates. Him and Mike have run into plenty who were perfectly honourable, and plenty who they’d happily watch hang.

This pirate, though, seems like the former. If Pac is a good judge of character, which he’s often told he isn’t.

“I’m Pac.”

“What are you in for?”

Felps takes a seat on one of the beds, and Pac takes the one opposite him.

“Stealing.” Then he rolls his eyes. “Allegedly.”

He did, in fact, steal. He stole a lot more than they charged him for, actually. But they’ll never get him to admit it out loud.

“Allegedly?” Felps raises his eyebrows. “How long will I have your company for then?”

“Uh… six days now?” Pac looks out the tiny barred window—night has fallen—and nods to himself. “Yeah, six days. Well, and tonight.”

“Nice, nice.” His eyes dart out to where Pac assumes he might be able to see the guard, and sighs. “Longer than I’ll have to live, apparently.”

“Oh.” Pac shifts, uncomfortable. He’s interacted with plenty of people on death row before, but he never knows how to react. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s for piracy.” Felps admits. Then, he gestures to Pac. “Allegedly.”

“Allegedly.” Pac echoes back with a slight laugh.

The conversation between them dwindles. Pac is just starting to consider lying down and trying to get some sleep, when Felps stands up on the bed and looks out the window.

“Hello?” He calls lowly, and Pac wonders what the hell his game plan is. A quick look at the guard shows he’s unbothered. Although, admittedly, he’s probably used to desperate pleas for help. “Anyone? Cellbit?”

Pac’s heart freezes in his chest.

Surely he can’t mean… Cell, right? They left Cell for dead. And Felps doesn’t seem like the kind of man to get along with him. He’s nice, for starters.

Ignoring that Pac also thought Cell was nice at first.

No. It’s just a really awful coincidence because the universe likes to taunt him. Cell’s dead. Rotting somewhere on an abandoned island.

“Anyone out there?” Felps continues.

“It’s just guards.” Pac mutters. “The window faces into the fort.”

Felps looks back at the guard. Then he jumps off the bed, and crowds in close to Pac. His eyes search Pac’s face. Pac feels his cheeks grow warm.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” He asks in a whisper.

“No, sorry.” Pac shakes his head. “I just had a lot of free time today.”

“Damn…”

Felps goes to move back, but Pac gestures for him to stay close.

“Do you think your crew will try to help you?” He whispers.

“I’m not going to count on it.” Felps says without even stopping to think about it.

And then he’s up by the window again, calling out for… anyone, it seems. Pac lies down on his bed. At least he didn’t expect to get much sleep, anyway.

“Hello? Anyone out there?”

Pac wonders how he got into this situation. He didn’t respond with an outright no, so it probably wasn’t his crew betraying him.

“Cellbit?”

It could’ve been a single member of his crew, though. A first mate, perhaps, looking to become captain. If Cellbit really is somehow Cell, Pac wouldn’t put it past him.

“Anyone? Hello?”

Or maybe he was just unlucky. In the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Cucurucho?”

That causes Pac to sit up.

“Wait, wait, why are you calling for him?”

Felps looks down at him, something unreadable on his face. Then he shrugs.

“Why not?”

Pac can think of a hundred reasons why not, and he’s surprised a pirate can’t think of a hundred more.

“Cucurucho?” Felps calls again, dragging the name out at the end.

Then he laughs despairingly, and rests his forehead against the bricks.

Pac closes his eyes. As good as he is at escaping, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to help much in the amount of time Felps has likely been given. He doesn’t know enough about the fort layout, or the guards’ patrol routes. It takes time to learn all that. Especially when he’s confined to just this jail cell. And he isn’t about to risk worse punishments and further separation from Mike on a half-assed escape plan.

The bed creaks as Felps—presumably—sits down on it. He’s muttering to himself, but it’s quiet enough that Pac can’t make out any of it.

Pac spins attempts at comfort in his mind, trying to figure out the best one. Nothing seems adequate. All he can really offer is a distraction, so—

—There’s a commotion outside their cell.

Pac sits up enough just in time to see someone skilfully kill the guard that was stationed down here. He’s wearing a navy officer’s uniform that’s splattered with blood.

“Cellbit?” Felps asks, hesitantly. Like he’s not quite sure what to make of the situation.

“Felps!”

The man runs up to the bars into the lantern light, and Pac is seeing a ghost.

The blood turns to ice in his veins. He presses his back to the wall behind him, and tries to make himself look small.

Cell’s eyes haven’t caught on him yet. His entire focus is on Felps—a delighted smile on his face as he watches the pirate step closer.

Pac’s leg aches.

“What are you doing here?” Felps asks.

“I’m getting you out!” Cell replies, almost offended. Then he ducks down to rifle through the belongings of the guard. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Felps echoes. He looks back at Pac. “Do you want to come with us?”

Pac’s breath is stuttering in his chest. His eyes are wide as they dart between Felps’ open expression, and a man who should be dead.

“Got it.” Cell stands up.

And pauses.

“Cellbit.” Felps says his name with a tone of despair, and reaches through the bars to try and grab the keys. “Open the door.”

Cellbit dances out of the way.

“Say you owe me one?”

“I owe you one.” Felps responds, easier than Pac thought he would. “Let me out. Please.”

“And I can collect on it whenever?” Cell pushes. “And you’ll have to do it?”

“Well.” Felps stops grabbing for the key, and lets his arms rest loosely on the horizontal bars. “Hold on. How much is one?”

“One is one! We can discuss it later.”

“Cellbit.” Felps sighs. “Just open the door.”

“Fine.”

He does so. Grumbling to himself a little as he tries to find the right key.

He’s not… entirely the spitting image of Cell. His hair is longer. There’s a white streak in it. And despite just trying to bribe Felps, there’s a distinct lack of cruelty in the way he holds himself.

That doesn’t really mean anything, though, when he nods his head in Pac’s direction, and Pac’s entire body tenses.

“Is your friend coming?”

He hasn’t recognised Pac yet. Which Pac chalks up the shadows of the cell. But if Pac accepts, there’ll be no hiding.

If he stays here, though, the guards could take out their frustrations over an escaped pirate on him. Besides, maybe Cell doesn’t even remember him.

“Pac?” Felps prompts.

And Cell’s head snaps up to look at him.

“Pac?”

Well, there goes that hope. Lady Luck once again laughs at him from the heavens.

“Oh, you two know each other?”

“You could… say that.” Cell frowns, and goes back to unlocking the door.

It swings open, and Pac is frozen.

Felps, on the other hand, has no problem stepping out. Even when Cellbit punches his arm, he doesn’t do more than let out an ow, and rub at the spot where he was hit.

He doesn’t seem afraid. At all.

“What was that for?” Felps complains.

“You’re so stupid.” Cellbit bites out. “I was worried.”

Hesitantly, Pac stands.

He really does need to get out of here. They’ll probably charge him with being an accomplice if he doesn’t. Cell eyes him warily as he approaches, so Pac tries to focus instead on the way Felps smiles at him.

“It’ll be better if we stick together.” Cellbit says, and Pac can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on him. “Let’s go.”

They have to follow Cellbit to get out. Pac makes a point of keeping Felps between them at all times, but that’s a false comfort. If Cell really wanted to kill him, Pac doubts Felps would intervene.

Because Felps may be nice, but he’s a pirate. And he’s a pirate who’s friends with Cell.

Man, he really is a bad judge of character.

The alarms start ringing about halfway through their escape. Cellbit curses, and twists abruptly to take them down a different pathway.

This one is narrower. They run through one at a time—Cellbit in the lead, dragging Felps by the hand behind him, and Pac taking up the rear.

He wishes he’d thought to pick up the guard’s sword. Or the gun. Instead, all he can do is look behind himself as much as he can without stumbling, and hope that Cellbit will give him something to defend himself with if someone tries to follow them.

Luckily, though, Cellbit seems to know what he’s doing. They get to a small alcove—where he’s clearly stashed some things—without much trouble.

He quickly throws a cloak to Felps, who puts it on gratefully. Then he locks eyes with Pac. And tosses him the other.

“I only brought two.” Cellbit explains, shouldering the bag, and getting ready to move.

“You take it then.” Pac holds the cloak out to him. “I’m just in for thievery, I doubt they remember my face. But, uh, you—you look like you’ve been stabbed, you know? With all the blood? They might, like, ask questions.”

Cellbit doesn’t move, staring at the material in Pac’s outstretched hand with a frown.

“If they know my face, they’ll know yours, Cellbit.” Felps says.

“Okay.” Cellbit trades his bag for the cloak. “Put this on, keep your head down, and be careful.”

Pac nods, trying to ignore the way his hands are shaking after Cell’s fingers brushed his. He puts the bag on as Cellbit throws on the cloak. It mostly hides the bloodied navy uniform.

“Okay,” Cellbit gestures for them to inch closer, “we just need to wait for the signal.”

“What’s the signal?” Pac asks.

An explosion sounds in the distance. It’s too far away for even the aftershocks to hit them, but Pac still jumps.

“That.”

Cellbit darts off towards the fort wall, and Pac scrambles to follow him. Felps is by his side as he runs.

Another explosion—still far away from them. Pac hears commotion in the distance. They dash up the stairs to the top of the wall just in time to hear the hasty march of soldiers below them.

“Pac.” Cell whispers, holding a hand out. Pac tenses. “Rope.”

He stares back at Cell with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

“What?”

“The bag. There’s rope.”

Pac scrambles to get it out and pass it off to Cellbit. It has large knots spaced out evenly throughout it.

An explosion—even more distant this time—goes off while Cellbit secures the rope for them to climb down it. He forces Felps to go first.

And then Pac.

The distance really isn’t far. If Pac drops it would hurt but he’d survive. So, he tries to ignore all thoughts of Cell cutting the rope and letting him fall. Instead, he focuses on not slipping off of the hand and foot holds.

He lands a little roughly, but Felps’ hands come up to steady him. He restrains himself from collapsing into the hold. There’ll be plenty of time to calm down from the stress of escape, and Cell later on with Mike.

Cellbit lands with a dull thud. He leaves the rope, and leads them through the bushes, and into town.

Once they hit the streets, Pac feels a little safer. A small crowd has formed, staring off at the fire, and smoke in the distance. It’s easy enough to sneak behind them, and once they do, it’s clear that the guards haven’t made it into town yet.

They duck quickly through alleyways until they hit a main road again. Once there, Cellbit encourages them to slow down into a more casual gait.

“So,” Cellbit asks, “where’s your boyfriend?”

“Mike?”

“Yeah, Mike. I’m assuming you’ll want to go to him?”

“Yeah.” Pac shrugs. “He’s either at the store, or at the house.”

“Well, lead us there.”

The thing is, is that Cell always had a tone about him. He had a couple of tones, actually, and all of them felt like they were sticking to you. The sickly sweet promises of safety like being covered in suffocating honey, the low threats rolling over them like waves, and the explosive anger stabbing into them like knives.

Pac rarely walked out of an encounter without feeling like Cell’s words were clouded around him.

This, however, was said so casually Pac doesn’t know what to think of it. It doesn’t feel like Cell’s friendly schtick. It doesn’t have the pressing weight of a threat.

And Pac stumbles into the lead, taking them towards their shop, because it doesn’t feel like revenge. Maybe he’s naive for that.

Cellbit and Felps bicker next to him. The words flow in one ear, and out the other.

By the time Pac gets to the shop, he honestly can’t say whether this is a trap of some kind or not. It’s likely that Cell just wants them both in the same place so he can finish the job from all those years ago…

…But every minute they spend walking together, Pac is sure he’s changed. He’s light as he talks with Felps. And Felps talks back without any apparent fear of angering him. If it wasn’t for his name, and his looks Pac doesn’t think he’d recognise him.

Still, though, he hesitates in front of the door. Cell can change, but also want revenge.

“Cute shop.” Felps comments.

And Pac sends him a shaky smile, and a murmured, “thanks.”

The lanterns are on inside. He’s pretty sure Mike is here.

“Let me just…” He turns to Cellbit. “Let me just, um… explain. Before he sees you.”

“Oh. Uh, okay, sure.”

Cellbit steps away from the doorframe and windows. Pac knocks.

There’s a commotion inside, and then the door is swinging open.

“Fuck, Pac, that was you?” Mike hisses, urging him inside. “I was trying to get ready to leave town just in case, but I didn’t think it was actually you.”

“I had help.”

Pac gestures back towards Felps, who waves.��

“Hi, I’m Felps! Nice to meet you!”

“Uh…” Mike scans over him critically. “I’m Mike. Nice to meet you, too.”

“And that’s not all…” He trails off, and winces as Mike frowns at him.

“What?” Mike turns to continue gathering stuff into their bags. “Did something bad happen?”

“Depends. Um… you remember Cell, right?”

“How could I forget?” Mike spits out. Then he turns back to Pac. “Wait-“

“He’s actually like, super nice now!” Pac says quickly—the words pouring from his mouth before he really thinks about them. “He helped me escape, and didn’t even threaten me once! I think he’s changed, you know?”

“He went to therapy.” Felps adds helpfully.

“He went to—wait,” Pac turns to Felps, “did he?”

“Mhm!” Felps nods, an easy smile on his face. It’s… calming. A little. Makes him feel better about the fact that Mike is probably one step away from killing him himself. “I took him there.”

“See!” Pac faces Mike again. “He went to therapy.”

Mike is staring at him, his mouth dropped open in shock. Then he groans, and drags his hands down his face.

“Pac.” He grabs Pac’s shoulders, and shakes them. “You cannot be serious.“

“I am.” Pac confirms, guilt swirling in his stomach. “He’s actually, like, right outside. Sorry.”

sorry… that confrontation was going to take some brain power to write, but it's been months and i still haven't written it so i don't think i'll get there any time soon. I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway though \o/

(also: felps and cellbit's conversation about felps owing cellbit one if cellbit lets him out was taken from their federation escape stream because i love it)

#wsd/f.ics #wsd/w.ips

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frenziedslashers · 1 year

Text

Why Can't You Be Mine Already?

A/N: This is based on the idea that @joelsgeetar gave me! This was going to be multiple parts, but I suck at those so I just made it one for now. I hope to do a multi-chapter rick fic someday though :)) Sorry if this isn't the best either. Kind of started losing brain fuel halfway through 😭 Also tagging @catt-leya because they asked to be tagged :)

Pairing: Rick Grimes x GN!Reader

Request: What about Rick crushing on reader? How would he act? Would he confess? Would he show any jealousy? Does he get overly protective? Is he crazy like shane? (Bad joke). Fr I wanna know how this man is when he is IN LOVE. Bonus points if reader is a lil younger and related to Daryl. 😏

Warnings: Jealousy, possessiveness, MENTIONS OF CANON TYPICAL VIOLENCE AND BRIEF MENTIONS OF THE BIKER THAT SA'd CARL!!! mutual masturbation at the end, that's really it tbh.

REQUEST INFO || TWD MASTERLIST

The sun hit your skin just perfectly. Making you glow like no one he'd ever seen before. He couldn't take his eyes off you, he never could.

"Rick," his head turned when he heard the familiar voice behind him. A welcoming smile graced his lips as Maggie came to stand behind him. "Y'starin' at them ain't gonna make them kiss ya any sooner," she teased her friend, noticing how his face flushed a little darker. Smiling at the way he ducked his head down, bashfully. "I know," he muttered. Everyone knew that Rick had these feelings for you, but he was so scared to act on them. After everything with Lori, he was afraid he might lose you. Or he might not love you the same. Or- "why don't you tell 'em?" God, he wished it was that easy.

He felt like he had sunk further into the ground he stood on as he thought. His mind racing with thoughts while his thumbs were hooked on his belt loops. "Maggie.." He muttered under his breath. "It ain't that easy. After Lori..." He frowned, and she nodded. "I understand, but sooner or later they're going to move on from you. Just gotta do like Glenn and me, we didn't waste no time." She added with a cheeky grin. "Which reminds me, Glenn wanted me to ask you if you could help him with the walkers on the fence? I gotta help Beth and Daddy with some things." He nodded, looking over to the Greene girl, "Yeah, 'course."

That was months ago, now. He still hadn't opened up to you. He was going to, but it seemed like every time he wanted to tell you the moment wasn't right. The outbreak inside the prison happened. Then Woodbury happened, then they attacked and everyone was left running. He wasn't even with you when everyone ran. You were stuck hiding in the forest, searching the nearest areas for survivors with Michonne. Not that you were complaining, you knew that she would protect you and you would do the same for her. She was a friend.

"So," she muttered, fingers grabbing at her sword to pull it out of the holder. "You and Rick, what are you?" She asked, decapitating a walker with a swift movement of her sword. You truly admired what she did. It was a talent you wished you had. "Friends, I guess?" She laughed at that, shaking her head before putting her sword back. "I see the way he looks at you, how Daryl tries to pull you away from him. I don't think he thinks you're just friends." She quipped, and you felt your palms go sweaty, eyes darting to the side while you scoffed. Trying to cover up how embarrassed you felt.

You shook your head, strolling next to her down the street. "No way, I'm too young for him. He's ten years older than I am, why would he like me?" She shrugged, "I don't know, but he does. He cares about you a lot. When the Governor attacked, he was quick to put you behind himself. To order you to run even though you stayed to fight. He cares," She smiled over at you, and you shrugged. You wanted the subject changed, looking around the street until you noticed an empty can. "Look, what's that?" You asked, the both of you lurking forward. Eyes looking around for any sign of danger until you both reached the can of.. pudding? It still had wet pudding inside of it as well. Looking at it, then at each other, and finally, at the house next to you both and the can.

Michonne was the first to head up the steps. Her sword ready, you holding the hunting knife Daryl had given you for your birthday so many years ago - who knew it would be this handy?

Her stiff stance made your furrow your brows. Cocking your head with a slight frown. "What is it?" You asked once noticing the tears rolling down her face. Stepping up to the window to peek through the boards when she stepped to the side. Seeing Carl and Rick was the best feeling you could have felt. Your heart burned with excitement as you looked at your friend and the both of you stepped up to the door.

The stiff knocks at the door had the father and son scurrying to their feet. Looking at each other while readying their weapons. Rick gulped before ordering Carl to step behind him. Holding his revolver to his side while peaking through the peek hole in the door. It was Michonne, and you.

Even after all of that Rick only greeted you with a smile and a tight hug, which he quickly departed from. It was frustrating for both of you. Mostly yourself. The mixed feelings you got from the man were torturous, and you could tell Michonne was just as annoyed by Rick's actions. The four of you decided to stay back for a while. At least until Rick healed up enough for you all to leave. Or so you hoped. A group of men chased you all out of the safety of the house after sneaking in while Rick slept in the upstairs bedroom.

"Rick," you muttered to the man, breath hitching when his knuckles grazed the back of your hand and his shoulder bumped against your own while you all walked the train tracks. Hoping to find others from the prison. "Yeah?" He asked, drawl strong in his voice. You opened your mouth to say something, but you didn't even know what you wanted to say. Pursing your lips while focusing on the scenery in front of you. Rick kept his eyes on you until you spoke. "I'm glad you're okay," he felt his heart stutter at those words. His stomach clenched when you reached and gently grabbed his hand with your own. His eyes met yours as you turned your head to look up at him, smiling. "I'm glad you're safe, too." He hummed with a smile, giving your hand a light squeeze. The both of you continue down the road like this.

It seemed like nothing could go easy for the four of you. Further down the road, you just happened to stumble upon the Biker gang that Rick just so happened to kill one of their men back at the house you all reunited at. You held your ground as they lurked forwards and threatened you all, but you froze up when you saw Daryl. Your older brother pushing forward and shouting that you were all off limits. "Daryl," you spoke, and the leader smirked, giving you a once-over while licking his teeth. "That your lover?" Daryl scoffed at his words, "No, I'm their older brother, what are you, sick?" Daryl asked with a scowl. The gaze darkened when he noticed the way the biker looked you over. The hunter was thankful for Rick who pushed both you and Carl behind him.

The fight was a lot, to say the least. You were drenched in blood, having stabbed the man that pushed you against a car with your knife. Michonne shook out of anger while standing over another body. Daryl looked you over to make sure you were safe. You were more worried about Carl though, once Daryl knew you were safe, he was, too. You all were. The boy crying while holding onto his dad like if he let go the man would get him again. You gave Rick a sympathetic glance, offering a weary smile, to which Rick nodded. Face covered in blood after biting into the leader's throat.

Further down the road only seemed to get worse, too. One event after another seemed to happen, but Rick was there to save you. Again and again. Whether it be from Walkers or the hellish communities you all came across. He wasn't losing you. He never would, not on his watch at least.

It wasn't until you all reached Alexandria that you were all able to relax. You especially found joy in the little community. Bonding with a couple of the people within the walls. Joining your brother when he would go over to Aaron and Eric's house - you especially liked their company. Daryl seemed to as well, you could tell.

You had been so focused on hanging out with some of the new people that you hadn't even noticed the way Rick stared at you each time he caught you with someone he didn't know. The way his eyes lingered on you with longing eyes; with want. It hurt seeing you with other people, and he couldn't help but think about what Maggie told him all those months ago. "Sooner or later they're going to move on from you." Maybe she was right, and this was it. He was slowly losing you from his grasp. You weren't as wrapped around his finger as you used to be - or at least he didn't think you were.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" Rick muttered to you, grabbing your arm to ensure you wouldn't walk away from him. You noticed the look of worry and dread in his eye. Smiling softly while nodding. "Yeah, is everything all right?" He shrugged, motioning for a more private area. "Just.. Come on." He muttered, and you nodded, following him into the house.

He stood in front of you, but he didn't look at you. Both of you standing in the living room, his eyes fixated on the wall beside you. "Rick," you frowned, "what's wrong? You're scaring me," you added with a lighthearted chuckle. He finally looked at you, but his expression hardly changed. He still looked just as distraught. "I don't like you hanging out with Spencer," you furrowed your brows, confused as to where he was coming from. "I was just helping him out with some stuff." "I don't care, I don't like the way he looks at you," and you scoffed. You couldn't believe what he was saying to you.

A part of you was relieved that he still seemed to care, but that part of you was small. You were more annoyed and pissed than anything. Crossing your arms over your chest with a glare. "Why do you care?" You spat, and he winced at your tone. His own glare settled in his eyes. "Because I care, why do ya gotta be so damn stubborn?" Two could play at this stupid game. "Yeah? Well then you have to stop hanging out with Julie or whatever her name is." You shot back, and he looked taken back.

"What?" He asked in disbelief. "That blond chick, don't act like you don't know who I'm talking about. You see a damsel in distress and you go running to them. If you can make rules for me, I'll make rules for you too, Rick." He went back to staring beside you, but not for too long. Eyes snapping back to yours with a look you couldn't quite place. "Her names Jessie," "Do I look like I give a fuck?" He grinned, chuckling. "You act like you do." You rolled your eyes again, leaning back against the wall. "Oh please, don't act like you weren't just telling me to stop helping Spencer." You added, tilting your head, and his eyes stared. Flowing down to your lips, your neck... God, he wanted you so badly.

You caught his staring, smirking a little. "Deal?" He sighed, eyes tracing back up to yours. "Fine," you smiled, patting his chest, before pushing past him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go help Daryl with some stuff." He nodded, watching you leave. His eyes scanning over your body and wishing he would have just pulled you in for a kiss.

This went on for days longer, and it only seemed to get worse. You would catch him still talking with Jessie, so you'd talk to Spencer out of retaliation. Only pissing the former Sheriff off more. "I thought we had a deal!" He shouted, and you sniggered, "we did! But you broke it talking with Jessie yesterday! Don't act like I didn't see you, you asshat!" He looked genuinely hurt at the name-calling, and you almost felt bad. Almost.

"Jesus Rick! What are we even doing?" You hissed, and he stayed quiet. "What are we?" You snapped, but he had no idea how to answer that. "I don't know," he muttered, and you sighed, shaking your head before heading for the door. "Come find me when you figure out what the hell it is you do want, Rick. You don't find me soon, I'm gone," you muttered, the last bit of your phrase dripping with a hint of disappointment. You almost sounded, sad? He wasn't sure, all he knew was that he hated that tone in your voice, and the upset look in your eye as you stormed out. He was left standing there again, for the second time. Just this time it hurt him a lot more.

Daryl was the only person Rick could think about talking this out with. Dragging his feet to where he knew the hunter would be. Sitting in the workshop drinking a beer while fixing up his bike. "Hey," he muttered after the man when he realized he was just where he assumed. "You blew it, didn't ya?" Daryl asked without looking up from his work, and Rick furrowed his brow. The silence caused him to look up, shaking his head. "Don't act like I didn't know. I been their brother forever, Rick. I know when they like someone and I know when you like someone," he added, looking back down to what his hands were doing. "Everyone does," he muttered under his breath with a breathy chuckle.

Rick had no idea what to say, hands hanging awkwardly at his sides before pulling them up to cross over his chest. "Well, uh... Do I have your permission to ask them out? We had a fight, and they asked me what we were, I said I don't know." Daryl shrugged. "Rather it be you than any of the preppy pretty boys in this shit-hole." He added, looking up at Rick with a smile. "No promises they don' bite, though." Rick smiled, laughing lightly at that. Glancing down before his eyes met Daryls again. Noticing how his stare seemed to darken. "No promises I ain't gonna beat the shit outta ya if ya hurt 'em, too." He snarled, and Rick nodded. "I understand, I won't. You have my word," Daryl nodded. "Ya better go find 'em before they fuck the Monroe kid t'get back at ya." Rick rolled his eyes at Daryl's words, but he understood. Thanking the man before he turned to wander off and find you.

It took him nearly twenty minutes before he discovered where you were. Walking up to where you sat near the pond in town. Sitting next to you with a sigh. "Hey," you hardly acknowledged him. Rick ached, not realizing how much he loved your smile that always greeted him anytime he spoke to you. "Look, I'm sorry 'bout everythin', I just got worried 'bout you. I know you can handle yourself," he muttered, hands resting on the ground beside him, legs resting in front of him. "I just.." He sighed, "I care about you, a lot more than I'm comfortable with." You kept your gaze in front of you but listened to everything he said. "I was just so scared that I was losing you here, every time I looked you were with someone new. Chatting away, smiling, and don't get me wrong. I love seeing you happy, S'one of my favorite things, but..." He paused again, sighing as he raked his brain for words. "I hated that you stopped talking to me as much. I wanted it to be me makin' you smile like that. Me who you ran around with and laughed with." He ducked his head down. "It's stupid, now that I say it out loud." He chuckled, and you shook your head, smiling softly as you reached to grab his hand.

Rick's head jerked to look down at your hand. Smile slowly spreading to his lips as he looked up to meet your eyes. His gaze was soft, speaking all the words he wanted to say. "I like you too, Rick Grimes," you spoke, and he smiled more. "That mean Spencer's out of the picture?" You hummed, teasing him by pretending to think, even though you knew the answer was 'yes'. It was always yes. "Yeah, only if Jessie is too." He snickered, bringing his arm to wrap it around your shoulders, leaning his head on top of yours. "She never was in the picture," he commented before you both fell quiet again.

"S'a pretty view." He stated, and you smiled, "Yeah, it is," you sighed, "Think sleeping would be a nicer view," you chuckled, and he nodded, his own body screaming for him to go to bed with how late it was. "Wanna lay with me?" He asked, and you smirked, "No promises I won't keep ya up," he chuckled, shifting so he could stand up and pull you up to your feet as well. "Well, we better get there fast so we aren't up any later than we gotta be." He cooed, staring down at your lips with a soft hum. You didn't stand long enough for him to be able to kiss you, though. Pulling him off towards the house.

His eyes were on you the whole time. Watching your body as he drug behind you. Just the thought of lying next to you got him hot and bothered. Cursing himself mentally for how much you turned him on. For how touched deprived he really was. If anything, the hand-holding wasn't helping the tent that slowly grew in his pants. Growing more and more uncomfortable with each step. All he could think about was your hand compared to his, and how his dick would feel in your hands.

The second that door to the bedroom closed behind you both, he was shoving you up against the wall. A hiss leaving your lips at the force of his actions. "Shit, Rick," you hummed with a smirk, "You want me bad, don't ya?" He only grunted in response, mouth moving straight to your own. "Wanted ya for a while," he murmured against your lips, caging your body with his own. His breathing only hitched when your fingers snaked into his hair and pulled. God, he forgot how much he loved that feeling. Pressing his body against you while kissing you with force.

He was quick to move down to your neck. Kissing and nipping, leaving hickeys in order to make sure that Spencer and everyone else that looked at you got the message that you were his. The noises you made from the action were just a plus. His hands pawed and groped at your skin before hastily working on removing the clothing from your upper body. He was far from gentle when he did this. Ripping and tugging at the fabric. "Jesus, you dick," you huffed out, "Lucky this isn't my favorite shirt," you scoffed, and he chuckled, pulling his own shirt over his head.

You were quick to shut up at the other's exposed skin. Both of you eating each other's figures up. Hands roaming in order to map the other's bodies. Both of you found where the other seemed to like to be touched the most. It was your turn to leave marks, though. Pushing him towards the bed while your mouth latched onto his collarbone. Kissing and sucking while pushing him down onto the bed. Climbing over him so you were straddling his lap with a grin. Leaving a mess of hickeys on his neck that showed the shape of a heart. Pulling back to admire your work and the panting mess that Rick had become underneath you. "There, now no one's gonna be takin' you from me either." You snickered, and he smirked. He loved feeling owned just as much as he loved feeling like he owned you now, in a sense.

He was quick to grab at your thighs when you ground down against him, a growl leaving from behind his teeth while he clenched his jaw. Watching as you repositioned your legs so you were between his thighs. Smirking at the curious glint in his eyes, and the way his face seemed to turn even more red than before.

"What're you- fuck!" He snarled, bucking into your hand as you palmed him through his jeans. His head fell back with parted lips. He was beautiful. "Just let me take care of ya, Rick," you cooed, and he nodded, "Fuckin' hell, just take m'jeans off, please." he pleaded, and it was like music to your ears. "Anything for you, baby," you teased, trailing kisses over his chest while undoing his pants. Working quick since you were just as eager as he was. Daryl was right, too. You did bite, but Rick wasn't complaining in the slightest. If anything, it just had him eager for more. Hands grabbing eagerly at the back of your head when you leaned down to pull him in for another kiss.

His lips parted when you finally undid his jeans and reached past his boxers for his dick. His hips bucked into your hand when your thumb brushed over his tip. "Fuck, feels so good," he blurted, and you smiled, hand working up and down his shaft after spitting into your own palm while he became a panting and grunting mess below you. Biting his bottom lip to do his best to stay quiet. "Shit, wanna fuck you so bad," he murmured, and you hummed, feeling your stomach knot up at the thought. "Really? Why can't I fuck you?" He shuddered at the thought, growling into the kiss he pulled you in for.

Rick was grabbing at your jeans while you continued jerking him off. Calloused hands pulling your pants down enough so he could reach down into your own boxer to touch you. Pulling away from the kiss to spit on his own hand and give you the same treatment. His hand reached down your undergarments in order to grab you. Your hips thrust into his hand at the contact. "Shit, Rick," you hissed, and he smirked, though it quickly faded. Furrowing his brows with a groan when you squeezed his shaft.

The both of you touched each other until you were both reaching your highs. Rick was the first to go, and you followed shortly after. Fluids covering each other's hands. Rick panted while pulling his jeans off the rest of the way in order to feel more comfortable in the bed. Watching as you did the same.

"Shit, haven't felt that good in ages," you murmured, and he chuckled, nodding his head. "Neither," he lazily spoke. Eyes feeling even heavier than when you were both sitting at the pond. He still brought himself to stand up, though. Throwing his legs over the side of the bead to head for the bathroom. Coming back with a towel in order to wipe the both of you down. Giving you a chaste kiss while tossing the towel back toward the bathroom. Settling when it hit the tiles right at the entrance before climbing back into bed next to you. "Next time we're more awake, maybe we can do more than just that," he murmured into the side of your head as he pulled you close. A small hum left your own throat as you lazily draped yourself over him. "Definitely, not lettin' ya go now," he smiled, "You're just as stuck with me."

#rick Grimes x reader #rick grimes #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction

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readyforthegarden · 1 year

Text

Eternal - Part Two

A vampire!gvf multi-part dark romance AU (Josh Kiszka x reader, GVF x reader)

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Mentions of blood, death, vampirism. This chapter itself contains smut (oral (female receiving) fingering), biting, blood

WC: 4307

The rest of your night had been peaceful, though as soon as you woke up, your mind was thinking about the tree. Trying to make your way through your morning routine, you thought about the pulse of the bark under you hand. In a way, you could still feel it, thudding against your skin. The water of your shower began to run cold, jolting you from your reminiscing and scurrying to get out of the icy rain and rush to finish getting ready.

You didn’t have a chance to think about the dream again until mid-afternoon, when Willa stopped by your desk.

“Hey, did you end up going home with that one guy last night?” she leaned against your cubicle wall, swirling the iced coffee left over from her lunch in its cup, the mostly melted ice barely making a sound.

“I didn’t go home with anybody last night.” you responded, thinking of the curly headed man and his deep, enchanting eyes. “Streak is over, I suppose.”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best.” Willa shrugged, offering a small smile. She was about to say something else, but she looked down at your neck. “I love that necklace, where did you get it?” you had forgotten all about it, glancing down at your own chest and seeing the white teardrop pendant still resting just above the swell of your breasts.

“Oh, I-I don’t remember actually.” you shrugged. “I don’t even remember owning it, but I found it on my nightstand last night. I don’t even know what kind of stone this is.”

“I think it’s a selenite crystal.” Willa bent at the waist, taking the pendant delicately in her hand and turning it over. “It’s supposed to cleanse energy and spaces, promote calmness and clarity and peace. Keep bad things away.”

“Oh, you know a lot about crystals?” Willa dropped the pendant softly and stood back up, rolling her eyes.

“My sister is one of those hippie crystal organic girls.” she sighed, though you could sense the sisterly love in her annoyed words. “She gifted me a wand of it once, told me to cleanse my new apartment with it because she thinks there’s a dark spirit there.”

“Did you try it?” you asked, giggling. Willa took a sip of her coffee.

“I waved it around a little, but I didn’t feel any difference. She said the next time she came over, the space was cleansed and had a better aura so,” Willa offered another shrug. “she may be onto something.” The two of you began to chat more about how Willa’s night ended up, and how she ended up going home by herself too, and that she as going to take the night off from partying for a while.

“I think I might go back tonight.” you said softly. Willa smirked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“You wanna see if that guy is there again, huh?” she asked, the sly smile on her face teasing, her honey blonde hair tucked behind her ear. “I don’t blame you. He was a little short for my taste but he was hot.”

“I’m not going just for him.” you tried to defend yourself, knowing that the opposite was true. Truth be told, you were hoping see him again, dance with him again. Maybe even get what he’d told you to wait for. One of your many faults was being impatient, you knew this to be true. “I honestly like dancing, and they have cheap drinks.”

“Whatever you say, honey.” Willa shook her head and turned, leaving you alone to get back to work. But the spreadsheets and emails that waited for you now seemed even more dull than before, with your mind set on returning to the dance floor tonight. Those eyes watching you from behind the velvet ropes. The possibility of those soft lips on your skin again, making the back of your hand tingle again.

“Oh my god, get a grip.” you muttered to yourself, shaking out your hand and rolling your shoulders back to settle into work for the remaining time. You balked at your own behavior, letting some strange man making you feel like a starry-eyed school girl over a few dances and a short conversation over drinks.

Yet, as you made your way into Club Soleil that night, you felt a thrumming in your chest. Your grip was tight on your clutch, you could practically feel your ID and cards inside bending against the pressure from your fingers. You tried not to make it obvious as you walked towards the bar that you were scoping the scene, hoping to catch a glimpse of chocolate brown curls. As soon as you were about to sit on the stool at the bar, a hand rested on your forearm. You turned your head, hoping to see the man from last night, but instead, it was a tall, curly headed man. His features were sharp, yet his expression held a softness that seemed to round them into an alluring, gentle look as his dark curls fell to his shoulders.

“I was told to bring you to the VIP area, Miss.” you blinked at him. “Follow me, please.” he left you no time to question, turning on his heel and parting through the crowd around you. You scurried to follow closely behind him, a nervous shake in your stomach now, nearly tripping in your heels as you tried to keep up with the tall mans strides. You followed him up the red carpeted steps to the VIP area, and he unclasped the matching red velvet rope, ushering you inside and closing the area off again.

The area was filled with various people, milling about, talking into each others ears over the loud music. Some were already drunk off their asses, making out in the dark corners, feeling each other up, some were just starting, popping a bottle of champagne between the eight of them that more than likely pooled all their money together to afford the one bottle. And then there was you, standing timidly where the tall man left you, not knowing exactly what you were supposed to do.

“I was hoping you’d come tonight.” you turned, seeing the man you’d been hoping to see all along. As he walked towards you, you took in tonights suit. Black, again, but this time the edges were trimmed with a shining gold thread that caught the light, making it look smooth like satin. You wanted to reach out and trace the pads of your fingers across the fabric, to feel for yourself. He noticed you taking it in and lifted an arm up in front of him, adjusting the gold cuff links on the wrist of his dress shirt, under the suit. “Did your friends get left behind at the bar?”

“They didn’t come tonight.” you replied. You shouldn’t be telling him that you came alone. It was stupid, asking for trouble. As you waited for a smirk, he only shook his head.

“Their loss is my gain.” he replied. “Would you like to get a drink first, or to dance?” A part of you was shocked at his abruptness, and you felt the words leaving your lips. Even though you’d been hoping to see him all day, the idea that he just assumed made you irritated.

“Who said I want to do either of those things with you?” you put your free hand on your hip, shooting him a glare. The man gave you a tight-lipped smile, letting you know you were already testing his patience.

“Did you forget what I told you last night?” he moved closer to you, a dark look in his eyes. “You’re mine.”

“Sure didn’t seem like it when you left me at the bar by myself.” you countered.

“Oh love, are you already feeling neglected?” the man faked a small pout. “Let me fix that for you.” He moved behind you, gathering your hair behind you and leaving your shoulders exposed under the thin straps of your dress.

Near-immediately, his hands were on your shoulders, gently rubbing them and slipping them down your arms. You tried to steel yourself against the shiver that buzzed down your spine, feeling his lips press on your shoulder. He slowly turned you, his hand slipping up the back of your neck, fingers in your hair as he tilted your head up to him, your lips parted, ready for his next kiss. He bent down, letting his lips softly graze over yours. Pulse racing, you let your eyes flutter close as his warm breath fell over your face.

“So, what will it be? Drinks or dancing?” his voice was quiet but stern. Your eyes opened slowly, and you looked into his, a strong, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

“Dancing.” you replied breathlessly, as if you’d already been on the floor for hours. The man took your hand, leading you out of the VIP area and down to the dance floor, weaving the two of you through the crowd and turning to face you when he found the spot he wanted. The club wasn’t as busy tonight, bodies weren’t packed together like they had been the night before. And yet you were still pressed up against him, his hands on your hips, both of you moving seamlessly to the beat of the music again.

As the two of you danced, the man leaned down, lips ghosting across the shell of your ear.

“Tell me, love,” he murmured, “Do you believe in vampires?” you paused briefly, wondering why he would ask such a silly question.

“Do I believe in vampires?” you asked back, looking at him to clarify. He nodded, studying you. You put your tongue in your cheek, thinking over his question. The vibe fit, maybe he was just into role-play and this is how he got off. And you did always love the vampire trope, the danger, the excitement, and the guy was hot and could pull it off. Deciding to play along, you leaned into him, pressing your lips to his ear. “I do.”

“I want to take you home.” he replied with a smirk. You felt a bubble of excitement in your stomach, remembering his confident reply from the night before that he could satisfy your needs. You let him tug your towards the exit, watching as he snapped his fingers at the coatcheck girl, something you normally would think was rude and absurd, but in the moment, it made you want him more. He helped you slide your coat on before taking your hand again, leading you outside to a car that was waiting.

There was a part of you that was screaming, this is stupid, so stupid! You don’t know this stranger! This is how people die! But there was something about this man that felt safe, deep down you knew you’d be okay.

You’d been distracted on the ride to his home, his lips on yours, his hand on your inner thigh, his fingertips grazing the soft fabric of your panties. You knew he could feel them getting wetter and wetter with every barely there stroke. But soon you were walking up stone steps to a large manor, being led into a gorgeous foyer with a large chandelier and faded, old marble flooring.

“Jesus, if I’d known I’d be coming to a home like this, I would’ve worn nicer clothes.” you joked, suddenly nervous and out of place feeling. The man took your coat off you, disappearing into a closet briefly before returning.

“You look just fine.” he replied, looking you up and down. You stepped under the chandelier, looking up at the sparkling crystals.

“I bet you have a library in here.” you hummed softly.

“You do?” the man raised his eyebrow as he watched you.

“Well, a real vampire living in a place like this? They’d definitely have a library.” you jokingly challenged him. He seemed committed to the act, his expression bored, but a small fire behind his eyes at your challenge.

“Follow me.” was all he said, before moving towards the staircase to the left of the foyer. You kept pace, your heels clacking and echoing loudly in the room as you moved. Halfway up, you paused, removing the shoes and carrying them in your hand. You followed him down a long hallway, a deep burgundy runner plush under your feet. The man stopped at a large door, waiting for you to catch up to him before turning the knob and pushing the door open, gesturing for you to step inside.

He followed closely behind, flicking on the lights. You looked around as your eyes adjusted to the new, soft glow of the lamp light. The room was large, almost too large to believably just be one room and not the whole house. Full bookshelves lined the walls, with large, picture windows between them, breaking up the dark wood.

“This is amazing.” you breathed, making your way over to the nearest shelf, starting to read the titles, trying to find one you may know. The man walked behind into the room behind you, moving towards a desk and leaning against it as he watched you, almost amusedly. It was the noise of the desk moving that brought you back into the moment, realizing what you came here for.

You ran your fingers across the spines of all the old books on the shelf absentmindedly as he watched you, and you felt yourself grow irritated as you thought of him. Him. You didn’t even know his name and you were at his home, willing to play vampire.

“You’re incredibly rude, you know.” you murmured, rolling your shoulders back.

“How so?” the man’s voice was smooth and even, as if he didn’t care, even if you were being serious.

“You haven’t told me your name.” you answered, throwing a glance over your shoulder as you pulled a book from it’s place and traced the indented words on the cover.

“My name is Joshua.” he answered like he was simply telling you the time of night. You snorted a laugh as you opened the book letting your eyes scan over the words on the pages, not remotely absorbing anything they fell over. “Something amusing to you?”

“That’s a shitty name.” you laughed, still focused on the book. “What vampire is named Joshua?”

“What’s wrong with Joshua?” he asked stiffly, his nostrils flaring as you continued to refuse eye contact, flipping to another page.

“It’s not remotely a cool name. Like, there are billions of options and you have the most basic, boring one.”

“I happen to like my name.” you continued talking over him, laughing still.

“It’s like I’m a broody, mysterious vampire….my name is Cody.” Suddenly the book was snatched from your hands and snapped shut so closely in front of your face you felt a breeze flutter across your cheeks. Josh was glowering down at you, his cheeks tinged pink and your giggles ceased in your throat. He moved the book back and lowered his face until the tip of his nose practically touched yours, his warm breath ghosting over your lips as you stared into his dark eyes.

“I’d be very, very careful about who you insult, love.” he warned, his voice stern as his hand took your waist and pulled your body flush to his once again. He ran his tongue over the tips of his teeth as he gave a wicked, malevolent smile as two points appeared on his top incisors.. “Some may not be as forgiving as I am.” his other hand was now free of the book, and slid behind your neck, moving your hair behind your back and cradling the back of your head so your neck was exposed to him.

‘Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Those have to be fake, right?’ You thought to yourself as you watched the lights of the room reflect off the pearly white fangs. You somehow were hallucinating, but you didn’t drink anything at the club, you didn’t take anything. Vampires weren’t real. They couldn’t be. And yet you quivered, a weight settling in your stomach that told you this was indeed very real as he watched your thoughts process on your face.

“A-are you going to kill me now?” you whimpered softly. The fear that now bubbled inside you made your blood run cold through your veins and set your body to start shaking. The corner of his mouth twisted into a smirk as he bent his head down, letting his warm breath cascade over your goose-pimpled skin.

“Is that what you want?” your breath caught in your throat at his words, the promise of death so close to you as his lips ghosted your jugular vein.

“No.” the word spilled from between your lips, and Josh smiled against your skin.

“Are you sure?” his tone was lightly mocking as he pressed a kiss to your throat, his lips soft and warm. “I could make it quick. Nearly painless.” you shook your head and he pulled you back upright. The adrenaline made you dizzy and you latched onto his shoulders. “Good, I have other plans for you.” in the blink of an eye, you were in a completely different room, being pressed against soft fabrics. Josh hovered over you, his breath fanning over your face.

Your hair had flown over your face from the sudden movements, and he reached up, brushing it away as you stared into his dark brown eyes. The feeling of his cool fingers left trails of heat across your skin and as your breathing picked up.

“Tell me, do you still want this?” Josh asked softly. “Still want me?” your brain finished his question ‘knowing what I am?’. You tried to calm your racing heart, thinking over his question. You shouldn’t. If this wasn’t some twisted wet dream, if this was really real, you should scream and run away. Yet within the span of a second, you leaned up, pressing your lips to his and humming when he kissed back with fervor. His thigh slotted between yours and ground against your core, causing you to gasp. Josh took the opportunity to lick into your mouth.

His kisses were rough and passionate, his lips never fully leaving yours as his hands roamed your body, pulling you closer. Your hands ran under his suit jacket, against the silk material of his dress shirt and you let your hands move up, rounding his shoulders and pushing the jacket back, urging him to take it off. He begrudgingly pulled away, tugging the sleeves off his arms and whipping the jacket across the room.

“You wanted to know if I could satisfy you, correct?” Josh dragged his nose across the hollow of your cheek, breathing in your scent. His hand was back on your inner thigh, rubbing firm strokes back and forth, inching closer to your core and teasing you. You swallowed thickly and nodded. “No love, I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” you breathed. His lips captured your earlobe, and you felt his teeth gently nibble the soft flesh there.m, tugging at it. Your eyes closed, the shiver that cascaded down your back raising goosebumps on your skin.

“When you finish, I will drink from you.” you opened your eyes, gazing up at him. The tone he used to inform you of his plan did not waver, and yet there was a lilt of a question hiding in it. He was giving you the choice to say no right now. You mulled it over in your hazy state. He could drink from you, drain you dry and leave you to become a missing persons bulletin on the news. “I will not kill you, you have my word. As I have told you, I have other plans for you. I won’t repeat myself again.”

“Only if you can completely satisfy me.” you replied, hoping your nerves didn’t show in your attempt of a sultry voice, throwing him back some attitude. He pursed his lips, eyeing you. It was obvious he wasn’t used to any push back from previous partners, and you could tell by the twitch at the left corner of his lip, he was learning he liked it. At least, that’s what you were hoping. “If you can’t, you take me home and end up like the rest of them.”

“Pray-tell, what happens to the rest of your conquests?” Josh’s voice was low as he slowly unbuttoned his silk shirt. You watched him undress, exposing his chest to you as the shirt fell open under his hands. His body was lean and well toned, you had to fight the urge to reach out and splay your palm against one of his pectorals.

“We’ll have to see if you find out, won’t we?” you dared, watching him finally fully remove the silk from his upper body. His arms were as toned and muscular as his chest, and you found yourself watching as they flexed while he reached behind you, finding the zipper to your dress and slowly tugging it down the seam. Josh’s hands moved down tugging the material up your body and over your head, tossing the garment unceremoniously on the floor beside the bed. You were left in nothing but your panties, and he brushed your fallen hair away from your chest.

When his fingertips grazed the teardrop pendant, you swore you saw the ghost of a smile tug at his lips, but it was gone too soon in the pale lamplight to really tell. Josh’s hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs swiping over your nipples, making a breath tumble from your lips. His fingers massaged the soft flesh and you let your head fall back.

One of his hands let go of your body, stretching behind you and dragging something down the bed. Slowly, his other palm, still resting under your breast, pushed you back, until your upper body was resting against a plush, soft pillow. Josh bent down, trailing hot, open mouth kisses down the valley between your breasts and smirking against your skin.

“I want you to watch me make you unravel, love.” he murmured gruffly against your skin. He continued his path down your middle, sucking a small bruise onto the skin of your hip as his lips met the hemline of your panties. You momentarily chided yourself in your head for your choice of basic cotton panties, instead of something lacy and sexy. It didn’t seem to matter to Josh, however, as he quickly tugged them down your legs, discarding them somewhere in the room.

He bit his lower lip as his hands traveled back up your calves and over your knees, your legs falling open for him under the slight pressure of his palms. Josh leaned in, dragging the tip of his nose across your left thigh while his opposite hand made contact with your center.

“All of this for me?” he mused, dragging the tip of his middle finger gently up through your folds, collecting the wetness there. “Can’t say I’m surprised,” you started to roll your eyes but stopped as his finger started to rub slow, tantalizing circles over your clit. A moan tumbled from your lips as you watched his fingers movements. “You’re gonna watch me and be a good girl, yes?” you nodded. A swift smack sounded off the skin just above your mound. “You will use your voice when I speak to you.”

“Yes, Josh.” you swallowed. “I’m gonna watch like a good girl.” his eyes stayed on yours, making sure you saw as his finger left you, only to be replaced by his mouth. His tongue laid flat against you as he dragged it in a slow licking motion, your heart starting to beat wildly in your chest already when he began delving into short, rough licks through your pussy, circling your clit and giving it a harsh suck before soothing it with a softer lick.

He adjusted himself on the bed, laying flat, wrapping his arms under and around your legs, fingers digging into your thighs as he held your legs open as they shook around his head. He began alternating between wide, flat laps of his tongue and sucking on your clit, his fingers joining in on the torture as he inserted two into you, pumping in and out. Your body jolted as he curled his fingers upwards, hitting that delicate sweet spot no one else had quite been able to reach before.

“Josh,” you breathed a she continued his actions, your hips starting to move against his face, rolling through the currents of pleasure that were building and building inside of you.

“Not such a bad name after all, hm?” he responded, taking a moment to smirk at you before reattaching his lips to you. You calling out his name somehow made him come back even more fervently, his fingers picking up a quicker, rougher pace as his mouth worked you over double time. You could feel your stomach start to shudder, your hips starting to buck against him as his one strong arm held you in place. Reaching you, you tangled your fingers in his curls, looking for something to hold onto as you felt your body give in to him fully, your orgasm crashing down on you like a tidal wave. He continued his ministrations, slowing down until he withdrew his fingers altogether, wrapping his arm around your leg again.

As you cried out, fingers clutching into his chestnut hair as his dug into your thighs, you felt the drag of his lips leaving your pussy and moving to your inner thigh. In your bliss, you had forgotten the deal you made. You sat up, Josh’s eyes still trained on yours as you watched him smirk and bite down on the flesh of your inner thigh. A sharp gasp rushed from your throat as you felt the burning sensation of the bite, the blood being pulled from you and into Josh’s waiting mouth.

“Fuck!” you cried, all of the endorphins and adrenaline in your body combining, making you feel dizzy. A humming laugh came from Josh’s throat, as you fell back on the bed, your breathing labored more than it was before.

He didn’t drink for long, or maybe he did. You were so far gone it could’ve been hours before he lifted his lips from you, it could’ve been seconds. You felt him drag his tongue along your thigh slowly, cleaning any spilled drops before he reached for his shirt on the bed, staining the beautiful white silk with your red blood as he wiped his mouth.

“I don’t know which tasted better,” Josh hummed, tossing the shirt like a rag over his shoulder, leaning forward and hovering over you. His hands were on either side of your head, his eyes gazing intensely down at you. “your blood or your pussy.”

You wanted to give him a witty reply, say something snarky to wipe that smirk off his face. You knew it would be meaningless though. You’d both gotten the end of the deal you wanted. You raised up a tired hand, letting the tips of your fingers rest on his cheek, parting your lips to speak. He cut you off quietly before you could get a syllable out.

“You need rest.” he instructed. “Sleep, and I’ll see to it you get home safely when you awake.” protest bubbled at your lips but your eyelids were too heavy to try and argue. As your eyes fully closed, you felt your body moving, soft, light fabric being pulled over you body before a heavier fabric settled around you. “Goodnight, love.”

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bisexual-horror-fan · 11 months

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Through The Heart Is The Only Way. Chapter Nine: "Stay." Poly!Chiffany X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Well here we are! This might very well be the LAST fic of Multi-May! Can you believe it?! This month has been insane, I mean just look at all I accomplished! With this fic it brings the total up to 12 fics and one update of my current long fic, the total word count of all of these even beating the amount I wrote for Kinky December back in 2020! I might get one more thing out before the month is out but maybe not, don’t hold your breath, a few things I received during this month will still get written though! So if you sent in a request but didn’t see it get done, don’t give up hope! It might just come out a little later. Now, I have been writing this chapter update on and off all month between my other projects, it is a massive labour of love and I hope you all love it too, this is a DOOZY of an update. Massive shout out to @eggsandbeer who proofread this! A very long time coming in many respects, so let’s not waste any more time and let’s finish this month off RIGHT! Masterlist for the whole series is found, here.

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 12K. (I KNOW! Okay I know!) Charles Lee Ray X Tiffany Valentine X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Masturbation. Softness. Fluff. Big Emotions. Spoilers For Night Of The Lepus AND Stand By Me. Cuddling. Kissing. Making Out. Smoking. Alcohol Consumption. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Taunting. Voyurism. Teasing. Banter. Lingerie. Multiple Orgasms. Vaginal Fingering. Hand Job. Blow Job. Eating Out. Vaginal Sex. Safe Sex. Threesome. Cum Swapping.

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Normally waking up to a sink full of dishes that you neglected to do the night before would start your day off on the wrong foot, but the following morning after your date hosting Chucky and Tiffany? It feels like nothing could sour your good mood, almost as if the sinkful of sticky and stained porcelain and utensils was an old friend you were excited to see.

Okay that might be a small exaggeration but fuck it, you were happy, you allowed yourself to be a little silly, a bit giddy over how well it went. So with the radio on and coffee brewing you are soon elbow deep in hot soapy water and scrubbing grease laden plates and the heavy bottom frying pan you used last night, humming all the while.

You keep playing last night, particularly the end of your date, over and over in your mind. God, it was such a good time, you were genuinely very excited for your next date, curious what you would do. That kept on occupying your thoughts, every date had been pretty different so far, you wondered if they were going to call you up with a plan all laid out or what. Once the dishes were done the rest of that day was spent pretty typically. After the dishes and some breakfast you find yourself retreating back to your bed, you thought about them so much previously and didn’t satisfy yourself last night so before starting the rest of your day proper you got that out of the way, twice. It isn’t like it took long while you thought about the taste of him thick on your tongue and Tiffany touching and encouraging you the whole time.

Next you did some errands, some self care, went to work, and it was a lovely day with you in such a good mood, totally in your element, tips flowing well for a normally not great night for them spelling out just how happy you were. Logan and Marcy commented and with a shrug you just told them, “I dunno, lucky night I guess.”

The pair scoff, unconvinced, “Uh-huh, sure.”

For some reason they didn’t believe you that you were simply just that happy to be at work but thankfully they didn’t pry as much as they had previously.

You don’t let them bother you either way. As excited as you are for this next date, whatever it will be, you were still more than willing to be patient, secure in the knowledge that they would get back to you when they could just as they said.

You continue on living, a night out with co-workers here, working there and finally you get a call a week after your last date. When the phone rang you jumped slightly before hopping to rush and grab the phone, picking it up with a hopeful, “Hello?”

And then you hear her voice, “Ahhh there you are, hey, I’m glad I caught you.”

You hold the phone closer, a soft sigh, your other hand on the table top as you feel yourself sink into the warm honey of her voice filling your ear, you slide down into the corner of the couch next to the end table you kept your phone on. “Tiffanyyy, how are you?”

“Good, very good, how are you?” She asks and you hum out, “The same, good, been busy at work, waiting for your call.”

“Sorry for the wait honey, what Chucky and I had to do took longer than we were expecting.” You didn’t think she needed to apologise but it was still appreciated, especially when she said it like that. “Oh no worries, I kept busy, it wasn't like I was just sitting by the phone.”

She laughs, “No way, I could never imagine you doing that. You? Spending a whole week sitting alone at home every night?”

You giggle along, fingers instinctively go for the phone cord and curl around the coil as you respond, “You’re right, very much not like me.”

“Oh yeah, total party animal.” She agrees and you say after a moment, “I’d call myself more of a zoo keeper.”

“A zoo keeper?” She inquires and you respond, “Yeah, I corral and control the party animals and keep 'em in check when I’m working.”

She laughs again, you love the sound. “Cute! That is very cute but still, you should be partying it up when you aren’t corralling the wild animals you feed drinks to night in and night out.” You take that as your cue, “So you got some big party animal plans for our next date then?”

“Well about that…We were feeling so bad about us taking longer than we were thinkin’ it would, that we wanna make it up to you and wanted to ask what do you want to do?”

Tiffany was so sweet, offering for you to pick what you would all do was nice, offering to host since you did last time was even better. You want to see her and Chucky sooner rather than later, you are off tomorrow and then not for days and days, thus, you don’t want to wait almost another week. So you ask, “Are you both free tomorrow?”

“Short notice, but let me check.” You hear her pull the phone away, she calls out, asks something to who you assume is naturally Chucky and the phone is brought back, “We are wide open.”

Success.

There is one hurdle however. You’d been keeping an eye on the weather as you always did, considering you either walked or relied on the subway system to get basically anywhere, you had to be aware of what you were stepping out into and sadly, even though it is late into March they are calling for a snowstorm tomorrow. It wasn’t supposed to be anything nuts but enough that going out would be a bit of a pain. You had been working hard all week and so the idea hit you and you said, “How about we rent some tapes and have a date night in?”

She lets out this pleased hum and you grin as she says, “Oh that sounds perfect, I hear it’s supposed to be miserable out tomorrow. How about you come over here and we host you since you had us over last time?”

“You wanna check with ol Chuck first? How is Chucky anyway?” She told you how she was but not how he was, she says, “He’s fine and I am sure he will be alright with the idea of you coming over to us and him not having to do a thing.”

Fair point, you laugh at how easily she dismissed your worries. “Rent whatever you want and come by at about four tomorrow before the snow starts?”

Sounded perfect. “I’ll be there, can’t wait.”

“Me either-” And then she said something that you were thankful she chose to do over the phone, if she would have said it to you in person you might have just died, “-I missed you.”

“You missed me?” You asked, slight disbelief and she corrected yourself, tone quieter, as if she was trying to hide it from a certain redhead. The image of her turning her body, both hands cradling the phone, a smile on her face that could almost be read as shy as she makes the small confession, floods your mind. “Well, WE missed you but he wouldn’t ever say that out loud.”

Oh you were sure that was the case, you were also sure you’d wear him down eventually and get some semblance of softness out of him. You hadn’t thought that was possible previously but with how this is all going, you think it might happen eventually. You could see it when he was with her, the intimacy, comfortability, the closeness and how he didn’t lean away from it but rather to it. The fact you were allowed to see that, given that little peak in makes you wonder, were you special? Or is she too alluring and makes him react like that even when he rather wouldn’t expose himself in that fashion?

“Oh my God, you’re getting soft on me!” You exclaim and she says, “What? You think I can’t be soft because I look this tough?

“Yeah the gothy exterior is real misleading, hm? You totally suckered me.” You claim and she laughs, “Hook line and sinker.”

You hear another voice and then Tiffany saying in an annoyed but amused tone, “Alright, alright, here-” And then his voice is in your ear, also sounding very amused, “What is so fucking funny that you all keep laughing over?”

“Awe you feeling left out Chuck? Don’t worry about it, I’ll be there before you know it and her and I can fawn all over you.” The promise seems to please him, “Now that's what I like to hear. Haven’t been too bored without us?” You can picture how he looks too, leaning over the back of their couch, right next to Tiffany, that cocky smile you have gotten to know as he talks into the phone, the occasional glance to her as he does so.

“Hardly, I was just telling your lovely girlfriend that I’ve been keeping myself plenty busy but I can admit that shit is much better with you both around.” Your fingers had been getting tangled in the phone cord during this conversation as you played with it and now you were unwrapping them as he responded, “Naturally, course it is, we’re the best.”

“Mmm you sure are, and now I hate to cut this short but I gotta start getting ready for work tonight.” He groans, “Booo-”

You hear Tiffany, she is still close by just like you thought, “What?” He fills her in, “She’s gotta get ready for work now.”

Tiffany echoes his sentiment, “Boooo-” It sounds like he is holding the phone so they can both hear and respond to you now.

“You remember where our place is?” He asked and you hummed, “It’s tattooed on my brain.”

You could hear the beginnings of Chucky complaining and you cut him off, “C’mon, less than twenty four hours, I’ll be at your place, think you can live until then?”

“I’ll do whatever I have to make sure he is alive for your arrival.” Tiffany promises and Chucky jokes, “Anything? Even mouth to mouth?”

You hear the sound of a playful smack and a quiet, “Ow-” Laughing you tell them, “See you both soon, bye.”

“Bye.” Comes the call in unison out of the phone, before you hang up. Getting off the couch you make your way to the bedroom to get yourself together for your shift and start to think about just what to wear to their place and what just to watch. Work flies by, you look cute and Logan gives you minimal shit and before you know it, you are back on the walk to the train station with Jackson, deep in conversation.

“So you got the day off tomorrow, what are you getting up to?” He asked and you still weren’t at liberty to give the whole truth, but you could say something, “Oh not much with the storm that is supposed to be rolling in, think I am gonna have a night in, rent some tapes.”

“Oooh, cosy, sounds good, smart too, not trekking out in that shit.” Jackson says with a nod up to the cloudy sky. “Right, you have fun braving the last vestiges of winter, solo.” You tell him and he groans, “So mean.”

“I’m no meaner than you deserve.” You tease. You wish you could be fully honest with him, but hopefully one day, Jackson takes your hand and you let him, fingers lace and you rest your head on his shoulder as you wait on the platform for your respective trains in comfortable and companionable silence.

What does one wear to a mostly meant to be casual date in watching movies? That is what you kept asking yourself and ultimately, after much rifling through your drawers and closet you settled on a comfortable sweater and jeans, you didn’t want to look too try hard and this was supposed to be low key after all.

Now the implication of this was clear, being alone with them in their place like this, you didn’t want to make assumptions but you aren’t dumb, it could very easily get physical again and God after how the last date ended you were liking your chances and hoping that was the case. So with all that in mind, you might have dressed up a little more under the wool and denim. You catch a last look at yourself on your way out the door and yes, you look really fucking cute, you didn’t go as heavy on the make-up as you do when you are at work but you hope Tiffany likes it all the same. Coat pulled tight around yourself and bag over your shoulder, you head out into the late afternoon chill, first stop was the video store.

You stand in front of shelves, eyes scan over vhs cases and countless titles, you are seriously considering what would be entertaining, what would they like? You wander between the aisles and then it hits, that first date you had, the movie that ended up being pretty bad, and all the fun you had ripping on it afterwards over dinner. You found the perfect movie on a bottom shelf, near a corner, it was dusty, you wondered who rented it last and maybe if it had been forgotten about. You selected one other tape and after paying the rental fee you were back out the door, another stop had you then heading for their place, a plastic bag in each hand, one with the movies and the other loaded with snacks. Soon you are inside their building and knocking on their door with a well manicured hand promptly right when you said you would be there, four o’clock on the dot.

The door swings open to see Tiffany there, gorgeous as ever, even in what you assumed were her own more casual and comfortable clothes, the grey sweater she was wearing was big, hung loosely off one shoulder and the spandex showed off what you could see below the hemline of said sweater, very well.

“Look at you! So punctual as always.” She praised and you said, “Oh I know I couldn’t keep Chucky waiting much longer or he would be totally insufferable.”

She held the door open and let you inside, “Trust me, I can handle him. You look fantastic again by the way, adorable sweater.”

You came in and set the bags down so you could take off your boots, “Awe thank you, same for you, looks like you could be in a hot chocolate commercial or something, so comfy.”

In the process of being half bent over you get a look at the fact Tiffany is wearing some very fuzzy and soft looking slippers. Your boots off you stand back up and she is smiling, you tell her, “Cute slippers.”

A glance down and she asks, “You like em?”

“They look comfortable but leopard print?” You ask and she laughs, “What? It isn’t like they are made of real leopards.”

You laughed loudly, “I know that!” Tiffany’s hand rests on your shoulder and she leans over, presses a kiss to your cheek before asking, “So what’s the problem then?”

My God, even that, the soft and small press of her lips to your cheek makes warmth spread through you along with the smear of gloss she left and all complaints and issues are forgotten. You sigh out as she squeezes your shoulder, “None, not a damn one.”

Caught up staring into her eyes for a moment then that familiar voice is cutting in, “Are you not telling me when our guests arrive anymore?”

A look over your shoulder to see him coming into the room, definitely the most dressed down you had seen him, also looking comfortable and at you, relief washes over you, glad you took it easy and didn’t overdress. “You know I think you can get away with wearing t-shirts more often.”

“Right? I keep telling him that all the time.” Tiffany agrees as her hand leaves your shoulder and he grins, “Starting on the praise already, making up for lost time?”

“Can you blame me?” He was close enough now that you opened your arms, invited him for a hug, he took you up on it but asked, while you were in his arms, “I know what this is really about, she is just tryna keep you all for herself and distracting from that with the sweet talk.”

“Heaven forbid I want some solo time before you get your grubby mitts all over her.” Tiffany taunted and he laughed, “Yeah, you weren’t complaining they were grubby earlier.”

She scoffed and he ignored her in favour of asking, “And what? No kiss hello for me?”

You exhale amusedly and roll your eyes, you are sure if any other guy said that to you the urge to clock them in the jaw would overwhelm but with him, saying it in that teasing tone, you can’t help but want to oblige. You pull back, hands remaining on his arms and you lean up and do just what he wanted. It wasn’t especially long but it didn’t need to be to have an effect on you just like hers had earlier. When you broke that kiss, back flat on your feet Tiffany had picked up your bags that you brought in, “Look at all the goodies you brought along!”

“Sweets for the sweet and all that.” You muse before telling them, “I made some guesses on what you both like for movie snacks.”

“Oh well we will have to grade how you did.” Chucky said with raised eyebrows as he pulled away and all of you moved into the living room, you threw your hands up, “Oooh scary.”

You had the chance to really take in their apartment, the last time you were sufficiently distracted but now you could really see it. The couch was comfortable looking, lower lighting provided by the few lamps scattered around, and facing the couch, a low coffee table, end tables bracketing said couch, a few windows and something you didn’t expect, plants. A few well tended potted plants were around of various types, you couldn’t place them but they looked nice, definitely added to the space, the lush pops of green are welcome after so much winter. Tiffany patted the spot next to her and you took it, Chucky sitting beside you before turning the bag upside down onto the coffee table.

“Milk duds? Hell yeah.” Tiffany praised as she plucked up the box and Chucky said, “Junior mints-”

“You got something against chocolate and mint, Chuck?” You cut in and he was already opening the box and popping one into his mouth, “Hardly, I think it’s an underrated combo, but telling that I open my mouth and you think I’m gonna be critical and complain.”

“Well when you do it so frequently-” Tiffany started and he bit back, reaching over you to playfully push her shoulder, “Shut it.”

“Awe, I thought you liked me with my mouth open?” She asked and he agreed and corrected her with a well timed raise of his eyebrows, the innuendo clear, “Open yes but full preferably.”

You cut in and ask, “So we making this popcorn I brought or what?” Tiffany picked up the package, dropping the box of candy for the moment and said, “Of course, on it.”

“Need any help?” You ask and she said while patting you on the shoulder, “I think I got it covered, but thanks honey.”

You could get so used to her calling you names like that. You watch her go and you are on the couch with Chucky alone, turning to him you asked, “So what did you and Tiff do that ended up running long? You never said.”

“Oh didn’t we? Nothing major, a work thing.” He shrugs and you realise at that moment that they had never told you what they did for work. How has that happened with how long you have been seeing them? It hits then, whenever you are making plans to hang out it is all centered around your work schedule with very little issues from either of them on their front, weird.

“You know you and Tiff never shared what you do for work.” You said and he asked, in a seemingly uninterested tone, “Didn’t we? Coulda sworn we did.”

“No, pretty sure you didn’t.” And after he didn’t say anything further you prompt him, “Soooo, what do you do?”

He glanced over to you, tipping the box over and letting a few more junior mints fall into his hand, “Freelance work, it’s real open ended and flexible, which is nice for us, gives us a ton of freedom.” He said it so easily and you had no reason to not believe him, before you could pry further into what KIND of freelance work Tiffany was coming back in, bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine, “You opposed to a few glasses?”

“Oooh not at all!” Tiffany grabbed wine glasses next and sat next to you again on the couch, she started to pour and Chucky asked, “So what did you rent anyway?”

“Two movies-” You reached out and snatched up the other bag, pulling one VHS tape out, “-Night Of The Lepus is up first.”

“Night of that what?” He asked as he took the tape, as if the clear plastic case would give him a better indication of the movie’s content and you said, “Lepus, Chuck. Night Of The Lepus.”

“The fuck is a Lepus?” You laugh and pluck the tape back out of his grip, “Guess you will have to just watch the movie and find out.”

“Yeah sweetface. I am sure it is going to be good if she picked it out.” You leaned over, a kiss to her cheek, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She coos and in short order the tape is put in the VCR player and the three of you settle in to watch. You liked this, being between the pair of them, sinking into the cushions of the comfortable couch, ample snacks, a drink in your hand and casual points of contact. This feels right. Your thigh was against hers as she leaned into you and Chucky had his arm over your shoulders, his hand playing with some of the loose hair at the base of Tiff’s neck and you felt as relaxed and at ease as you do in your own apartment.

The movie is rolling and as expected for your little group, there was easy conversation and riffing about what was happening on screen.

The newscaster on the screen is speaking at this moment, “-it’s difficult to conceive that such an innocent furry rabbit, scientifically known as lepus, can be so destructive.”

“Oh so that is what lepus means? Rabbits?” Tiffany asks and Chucky chimed in, confused tone, “This movie is about what? Mutant bunnies?”

“Mutant killer bunnies. And yeah! Just wait, trust me, it’s to your taste.” You assure and he decides to but not without a roll of his eyes.

As the movie goes on Tiffany is very into it, when the scientists are capturing bat specimens she is even happier, “Bats AND bunnies? So cute.” Chucky smiled as he said, “You are just in heaven, aren’t you?”

He starts getting into it too, the jokes flow more, conversation more fast paced, Chucky pointing out, “They just blatantly re-used that news footage from the opening-”

“I like rabbits, mommy!” Exclaims the girl on screen which has him abandoning his original thought to say, “Yeah something tells me she won’t by the end of this.” The tone he says it with almost makes you choke on your sip.

“Wow those sure are some zoom-ins.” Tiffany said and Chucky asked, “What do you think they put on the rabbits faces for the blood?” You offered up, “Jam? I think it's probably jam.”

“Growling, the rabbits are growling.” You say and Tiffany laughs, “Did you hear that scream?!” Chucky himself laughing, “Like it came from 12-year-old, so high pitched-” You all on cue at the same time mocked it together before falling into another laughing fit.

“These rabbits just do not stop growling.” You say later on and Tiffany says, “I know they are big and bad and we are supposed to hate them but they are just still so cute!”

It is quiet for a moment before Tiffany asks, “Hey sweetface?”

Without turning his head he says firmly, “We are not getting a rabbit.” She pouts, “Oh why not?” He turned towards your direction, a hand landing on your knee as he said, “You did this, I’m blaming you.”

You put your hand on his knee in kind, leaning in closer as you say, “I’d apologize and say I’m sorry but It’d be a fat fucking lie, Chuck, so I’ll spare you.” He deadpans, “I love your honesty, it's so sexy.”

And more towards the end of the movie, you had an arm around her, saying, “They aren’t really dying Tiff.” She pulls her glass back from taking another hearty sip and says, “I know that but it looks so convincing, you know?”

Later still Chucky is saying, “They are talking about the railroad a lot.” And once the movie reached its finale, all the massive nearly car sized bunnies being electrocuted at the railroad trap that was set up he said, “Oh. Well fuck. It was important.”

Once it wrapped up Tiffany was still going on, “They are so big! Do you think I could ride one?” You ask, “Like a pony?” She excitedly agrees, “Yeah like a pony!”

“Well I gotta admit, for a dumb movie about killer bunnies, it was pretty entertaining.” Chucky said, giving it up and you say, “The jokes and drinking helped I am sure.”

Tiffany leaned over, a quick hug as she said, “The company did too.”

“Mannn, between this, the slippers, loving the bunnies, you are getting soft.” You tease and she lets you go, “Insulting me in my own home. So rude.”

“We gonna do some dinner before the next movie?” Chucky asks and you perk up, “Oh that sounds great! What are we thinking?”

“I pre-made a lasagna earlier in anticipation for this, can just put it in the oven and mid-way through the movie when it’s done I can serve it up and we can eat.”

“Look at you, thinking of everything.” He praised as she got up and with a big smile asserted, “Someone’s gotta.”

You got up, had been on the couch the whole time the movie was on, you stretched and asked them, “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh down the hall there.” You thank him and head off where he directed. When you were washing your hands you turned your head to look out the window and the whole thing was covered with snow. After you dried your hands you figured you should check this out further, you opened the window, took more force than you thought it would, the thing was practically frozen shut and when you got it open you were greeted with pure white sleet so thick you couldn’t see more than a foot in front of you. The chill was bitter, the wind biting and it had you slamming the window closed with a shiver, hands brushing over the front of your shirt, wiping away the snow that had stuck to you in the ten seconds you had the window open.

The weather channel lied. The storm has evolved into an all out blizzard and it is bad, the worst one in a long time. You come back outside and ask, “Have you seen outside?”

“No, why?” He got up and went over to the window and looked out, “Holy shit, it looks fuckin’ nightmarish out.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should uh get out of here before it gets worse?” Tiffany and Chucky shared a look before she looked back over her shoulder at you, “No way are you going out in that mess!”

“Yeah you should spend the night.” Chucky offered, and you asked, “Really? You’d be okay with that?”

“Duh of course. No way should you be out walking in that, we wouldn’t even drive you in it-” Tiffany said and you asked, “Wait drive? You guys have a car?”

“We do. We don’t drive her much in the winter in the city, that much salt you are just asking for rust problems.” Her, the car is a her, he is one of those car guys, you bet “she” even had a name, it was weirdly endearing, and also opened up lots of possibilities too for future dates. “Does he care for the car more than you?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” She muses, “And besides we still have another movie and dinner too.” She makes a good point, you don’t want to leave yet and it would be stupid and dangerous to try and brave that blizzard. The care and concern is sweet, you say, “Thank you both.”

Chucky waves you off, “Don’t even mention it, so how about that next movie?”

The oven had been preheated, dinner was in and going, drinks were refreshed and at that time Tiffany was asking, “And what is the second movie exactly?”

You snatched up the bag that had been pushed to one of the upper corners of the coffee table and brought out the second tape, “Stand By Me.”

“Oh, never seen it.” He admitted and you said, “Me either but I have read the original story by Stephen King.”

“What is it about?” She asked and you filled them in, “It’s about four twelve-year-old boys and this adventure they set out on to go see a dead body.”

“This is your follow up to giant killer bunnies?” Chucky accused, thoroughly amused and you laughed, “What? I thought it was a good follow up, much more mild, less nuts and out there, a palette cleanser if you will-”

“Just a weird double feature is all.” He says, hands up and Tiffany hums, “Unconventional certainly but I am more than willing.”

The VHS was slid into the VCR and the positions had changed on the couch, you were at one end, back against the arm rest, legs stretched over Tiffany’s lap she is leaning against Chucky as he is resting against the other end of the couch. You feel even more at ease, knowing you were spending the night, having your first sleepover with them, movies and dinner and drinks was the perfect recipe for relaxation.

You felt good, not really tipsy or even buzzed but rather light, happy, the wine they selected was great.

Chucky spoke up first, the same pattern as the last movie, talking about it as it went on, “These kids got some good insults.” Tiffany exhaled amusedly, “Yeah you really have to step it up.”

“Can’t be outshined by a gaggle of twelve-year-olds in the fifties, think of your rep Charles.” You tease and he gags, “Ugh, can we not?”

“What no Charles?” You ask and he says, “I’d rather we didn’t.”

“Touchy, touchy. But fine.” You conceded.

It was quiet for a while until he spoke up again. “Christ, everyone is doing it in this damn movie, I want a smoke.”

Tiffany carefully moved your legs off her lap, “Me too, open the window.” He gets up and goes over to the window and does so carefully, it is still coming down so he opens it just enough for a small crack to blow smoke out of. Both he and Tiffany have a smoke while standing on either side of the window, still in view of the tv.

“Train dodge?” Tiffany asked, shocked as three out of four friends tried to get the last one off the tracks, trying to explain why attempting to dodge the train was a terrible idea, and Chucky laughed on the exhale, “Oh this kid is gonna die.” You agree with a chuckle, “One hundred percent.”

You all watch as Chris manages to yank him off the tracks before disaster can strike and Chucky’s hands cup around his mouth as he calls, “Booooo, you shoulda let him try.” You laugh, “Is the body they are going to see not enough?”

He is musing as you all watch, “You know I’ve always wanted a dog-” Tiffany cuts him off, “So no pet bunny but we can get a dog you can train to bite balls off, real fair.” You are laughing hard, “My God what a sentence.”

“You would do that.” Tiffany said and Chucky asked, “Spit in your face? I mean, only if it got you off.” She bit back with, “Like it doesn’t get you off.” Causing Chucky to say, his fingers brushing over her cheek, the action soft and in no way matching his tone, “Never said it didn’t, I was only concerned for you.”

“Mmm real concerned, I’m sure.” Said Tiffany. Those moments you see between the pair of them are some of your favourites when sharing time together, the easy air and banter they share is amazing, you hope to reach a similar level one day.

You speak up, “You think the body is gonna be gross?” Chucky responded in turn, “I mean we can only hope.”

While watching the older group of guys in the gang carving into each other, Chucky asked Tiffany, “Should we brand each other?” She laughs as if the idea is hilarious, “Yeah, I’ll get your name right over my heart, how’s that sound?” You all share a laugh over that.

You mused after a while, during a lull with a sigh, “Bull-true. I love that.” Chucky asked, “That gonna end up in your daily lexicon?” You say, “It might.” He takes the chance for the joke, “Bullshit.” Tiffany groans with a roll of her eyes as he is busy snickering over his own quip.

The scene where the boys are crossing the train tracks over the river, nowhere to jump off without falling one hundred feet into the water you speak up, “You feeling this tension or just me?”

Chucky responds with a nod, he is sitting more forward, eyes locked on the screen, “No, no, I'm feeling it.” And when the train actually did show up Tiffany was gripping your arm hard, pretty manicured nails biting into your bicep through the wool of your sweater, “Shit, shit, shit, fuck! Are they gonna make it?!” The level to which Tiffany is into the scene playing on screen makes a smile break out on your face even with all of the previously commented upon tension, she is so cute.

They manage to but just barely and you exclaim, “God, that was so good.” Tiffany gets up, “Stressful more like, I need another smoke.”

The next few scenes were watched with them both at the window, indulging again. She says easily at one point between drags, “The word of the movie is sincerely.” He nods in agreement, “Seriously.”

Watching the kids around the fire, you speak, asking, “I don’t smoke so I don’t get it but is a smoke post meal really that good?” Chucky and Tiffany moan in unison just as he is closing the window and they have finished their second smoke of the movie, “Ohhh my Godddd-” she calls and him following up with, “Yes, yes yes-”

Their impassioned reaction gets another laugh from you, true you didn’t get it first hand but they sure got the point across.

Dinner was finally ready and you all ate in front of the tv as you did so, not wanting to interrupt the movie. It was really fucking good, you were impressed at the skill she displayed, you wished you knew how to make something this good. The fact she liked the dinner you made for them made you happy considering her own cooking ability. “Tiffany this is fantastic, and you just did this today?”

She shrugged as if it was no big deal, “Yeah this afternoon before you got here. I can show you how sometime, maybe have a date cooking together.” Chucky piped up, “I’m all for it.”

“Pfft, no shit, we do the work and you get to eat.” Tiffany laughed.

As the boys finished crossing the river, Tiffany groaned, “Oh nooooo, not leeches.” And Chucky states firmly, “This is why you will never, ever catch me swimming in a river.”

And finally the boys had reached the end of their journey and you spoke up, “Woah.”

Chucky was setting his plate aside, getting ready for that aforementioned post dinner smoke and his third of the movie, as he said, “There he is.” Tiffany asks, “What do you think? Worth it?” You shrug as you say, “I think it’s one of those things where it’s more about the journey than the destination.”

A mutual hum of agreement as the pair are lighting up.

It is silent during Chris’ comforting and Tiffany said quietly, “This kid is a good friend.” Something you and Chucky both agree with.

When the ending finally comes there is much exclamation, “Chris became a lawyer oh my God-” And very shortly afterwards, “And he dies?!”

“You show us this movie, get us all invested and Chris bites it?” Chucky asked and you defended yourself, “Yeah years later-” He presses on, “The point still stands!”

The credits roll and as Tiffany is collecting up plates as she says, “Still hurts either way.”

“That is the point though. This movie is like life, it’s happy but sad, funny but tragic, you know?” She concedes to you on that. Chucky turns to you, “These are the two weirdest movies you could have ever picked for our date night.”

“But?” You ask and he follows up, “But so fun.” Tiffany calls over her shoulder as she carries messy plates to the kitchen, “So fun!”

“Seriously you should pick for movie nights more often.” He praises and you ask, “We wanna do this a lot more then?”

He shrugs and says easily, “Shit, I mean why not?”

Why not indeed.

“Sooo the movies are all done, what do we want to do now, since I’m staying?” You ask and he says, “Cards and some tv?”

Sounded good to you, it was still a little early and so you all ended up sitting on the floor around the coffee table, some made for tv movie you didn’t care about providing background noise as you played. There was more conversation flowing over all manner of things, everything and nothing and whatever in between before another few hours later the decision to get into bed for the night was made. Tiffany loaned you something to sleep in, a rather large t-shirt that was warm and comfortable.

You were feeling tired but once you saw Tiffany’s choice in pyjamas, a tank top and short shorts you felt significantly more awake, looked like she had this set for a few years and it was criminally tight. You sat on the edge of the bed and joked, “So you saved the better pyjamas for yourself, I see how it is.”

“Ha, hardly, you look good, really cute.” She said easily, she was putting her hair up as she sauntered over to you and keeping eye contact was difficult, something she picked up on as she said, “You know you can look, right? It’s kinda what I am hoping for when I wear something like this.”

“Oh I know just what you mean.” You get bold and take what she said as an invitation to open your legs as your eyes drag over her curves. Your hand dropping down, you pull up the bottom of the t-shirt she loaned you and show off the frankly gorgeous lace and silk underwear you picked out hoping to impress her. Eyebrows raised and she says, “Yeah that is the kinda thing you wear when you wanna garner certain kinds of attention.”

She finishes putting up her hair and you ask, “Well do I have your attention?”

In place of a verbal response she leans down, hands rest on your thighs and she kisses you. The speed with which you return her affection is impressive, your hand lets go of the shirt and you reach out, hands on her biceps as you deepen the kiss and she hums into it. That is the moment you hear him come in, “Starting without me again. Is that the theme for tonight?”

You and Tiffany break the kiss with a laugh, big smiles as you look over Tiffany’s shoulder and she does the same, “You were taking too long and she showed me what she has on under this-” She pulled on the sleeve of the t-shirt you had on, “-and what am I supposed to do after that? Not kiss her?”

“Yeah, you snooze, you lose Chuck.” You tease and he comes over, “Apparently, and what exactly do you have on under this?”

He sits next to you on the bed, side saddle, one hand meets your knee and he makes a move to open your legs to get himself a peek and you forcefully keep your legs closed, pretending like you aren’t dying for him to see, “Ooh I dunno-”

“Tease.” He scoffs and Tiffany leans in again, she turns your face back to her, breaking the eye contact you had with Chucky and kissing you again, you melt in short order and focus on her instead. He is able to open your legs easily and when the fabric is pulled up he says, “Christ you weren’t kidding. How can any sane person with a heartbeat not want her after seeing that?”

The kiss was forcefully broken when he pushed you over onto your back and he climbed onto the bed. The action is surprising and honestly much too arousing, you like when he takes charge, the confidence works on him and you are into it.

He is moving closer as he is talking, “You know, we kept on talking about you while we were away.” He leaned down and you asked, “Yeah?”

“Could not stop thinking about how that last date ended.” He admits and Tiffany agrees, her hands hadn’t left your thighs and they were moving upwards now. “You were too hot for words.”

Her saying that about you? As she is bent at the waist, her finger starting to dip below the edge of your t-shirt, her ample cleavage on display from the angle, biting her bottom lip and that mischievous glint in her eyes, you think that “too hot for words” fits her much, much better. You still graciously accept the compliment on your oral skills and apparently how good you looked while doing it.

“I can’t stop thinking about it either.” You divulge as their hands start wandering quickly, her fingers run over your hips before beginning to move back down and his hand is sliding up your side, thumb tracing the curve of your breast and you say, “I want to do more too if you both do-”

“You think we can resist when you are spending the night in our bed, especially wearing something like this?” Tiffany asks as her fingertips brush over the soft edges of the delicate material that was currently encasing your quickly dampening cunt. He was so close now as he told you, “Yeah c’mon, we are only human and we can only show so much restraint.”

Thank fucking God, this has been coming for way too long and with it being so explicitly stated means all bets are off, you can hardly wait to indulge but that doesn’t mean there is any reason to rush.

You tell him, “So stop holding back.” Before your hand is on the back of his neck, leaning up the last bit, you kiss him, and even though you initiated that kiss, he is soon the one taking over and leading it.

He clearly takes what you say to heart, they both do, because clothes are coming off in between heated kissing, his shirt and her shorts, and you take off the shirt Tiffany had loaned you, all in all you ended up wearing it for less than ten minutes and when it was taken off both of them pause. The bra was part of a set, it sat on your body beautifully but didn’t leave much to the imagination since the cups were sheer, intricate lace that matched the panties curling around the edges and framed your nipples. “God, she is asking for it, isn’t she?”

You were.

Tiffany didn’t give much more than a hum with a nod in response, she was on her knees, kissing up your leg as her hand found its way in between, deft fingers stroke up and you arch into her touch. You were plenty warmed up, her fingers slide back down, more pressure and it draws from you a quiet exhale, head falling back and he takes the opportunity to kiss up your neck one of his hands feeling up your chest. His fingers get greedy, dipping into your bra, blunt nails catch on your hardening nipples and the small edge of pain the action provides makes the pleasure radiating out below your waist increase. Tiffany was very into her current task, head resting on your inner thigh, fingers touching, rubbing consistent and steady circles through the satin like fabric over your clit, taking in every reaction of your body as well as watching the sight of the wet spot steadily growing.

“You good down there?” The question is spoken into the hollow of your throat, another kiss ending his sentence and making your breath stutter as her fingers press harder, she speaks, “So good.”

“I bet.” You feel his smile against your neck, fingers squeeze your nipple and he continues on, “Little known thing about Tiff is she looooves lingerie-”

“Really?” You ask breathlessly with a big smile, the wash of pleasure increasing between the pair of them working you over, “Guilty.” She sighs.

“Maybe we should go lingerie shopping together sometime.” You suggest absentmindedly, the friction of the thin layer of fabric between your clit and her fingers is making it hard to breathe normally and Tiffany perked right up, fingers slowly slightly, “Oh you mean it?”

“Yeah, I am sure you have all kinds of things you want to see me in.” You tease and Chucky chimes in, “Think we both have lots of things we want to see you in.”

Tiffany agrees and you ask, “Like?”

He huffs, teeth grazing your pulse point before he asked, “You want to keep talking or do you want to get fucked?”

She was moving your underwear out of the way, fingers hook in the wet material and she pulls, her thumb stokes over your clit and you gasp out the answer they were hoping for, “Fucked, definitely fucked.”

“God I cannot wait to see that.” Tiffany’s voice, Christ, it was enough to do your head in on an average day, but like this, almost naked, their hands all over, and the tone she spoke in, it clued you into how desperate she was for it, clearly she was being genuine. You had the smallest wondering if she had masturbated to the thought, the idea of her doing that at all, thinking of you getting railed by her boyfriend or otherwise has your hips bucking to get closer to her touch. Her other hand is on Chucky, nudging him and he takes the hint, he is still close to you but more on his back, his hands abandoning you for the time being, she is helping him out of the rest of his clothing. Her touch on you at this moment is light, rocking gently, you get lost in the feeling and before you know it he is completely naked.

Your attention is drawn to this because of the groan he lets out, your eyes start at his face, the expression he is wearing is betraying what is already going on, but still you take your time to see it for yourself. You treat it as if it were something you had been greatly looking forward to, which to be honest, you had, allowing time to indulge, not wanting to ruin it by taking it in too quickly, appreciating it. Your eyes are raking down his chest and stomach to then see it live and in colour, Tiffany with one hand around his shaft and the head of his dick between those pretty kissable lips of hers. This is still so new but you sincerely doubt you are ever going to tire of seeing the pair of them be physical with each other.

Now that she is in a good rhythm with him she picks up the pace on you once more, you had no idea that she was so good at multitasking. Between the pleasure she was foisting on you and the view and sounds of Chucky you can’t take it, you need more, you reach out, a hand meets his cheek and you bring his face over to you, initiating a deep kiss that both of you moan into. It continues on like that, the energy is impressive, all of you are feeding into each other, Tiffany’s tongue flicks over his tip and the inhale is draws from him makes more heat spark inside of you and kiss him deeper, the brush of his own tongue on yours makes you moan and causes her to redouble her efforts and it just doesn’t stop. In between kisses you ask, “How do you stand it?”

“Mmm? What you mean, ugh, her?” He laughs a little breathlessly, a groan spilling out after that and you nod, “Yeah, exactly, her, she’s too much.”

Tiffany pulls up, he leaves her mouth with a wet pop and she teases, a call back to a previous joke he had made on your last date “The most.”

You love this too much, the way that even with the hot and heavy atmosphere, feeling this good, you can all still joke around and keep it light. Your forehead leans against his as you snicker, “And funny too, you got yourself quite a catch.”

“Yeah we lucked out big time.” He agrees, his mouth is back on yours and you feel yourself melting.

“You flatter me so.” She sighs but your mind is caught up on the “we” still. You wonder if it was an accident or purposeful but him saying we in this context isn’t a small thing. No time to follow up or question however, Tiffany has two fingers sliding into you as she is back to sucking his dick and you are moaning with a grind of your hips to increase the feeling she gives. Between the hot and heavy make out you keep on stealing glances at her, whenever you and he break apart your eyes are drawn down to see how she is taking him nearly to the base with no issue. Her hand and mouth moving in tandem, you notice too that when she takes him as deep as she can that is when she curls her fingers into you, her thumb swirling over your clit while she pulls him out, the level of control she has over you and him is enough to leave you speechless.

Unlike before you are leading the kiss now, keeping it fun, playful, ample moans and when you can manage to get the words out, scattered praise for Tiffany is spoken until she is the one who can’t take it anymore, she is the one to push it further. She slides him out of her mouth, resting her head on his thigh, her hand still stroking him and her fingers curling into you again, “Are you both ready?”

“Oh you all needy, hon?” He asks with a surprisingly lack of condesension and a smile, she nods, “I want to see you fuck her.”

Heaven above how she says that, you clench on her fingers, speaking of his fingers, they brush over your cheek and while catching your gaze he asks, “Well? You ready?”

A bite of your bottom lip before you practically moan out, “God thought you’d never ask.”

You were dying for this just as much as they both were, is it possible to be so hot and bothered that your own blood can threaten to boil you alive in your veins? You have no clue but the culmination of all this time with them about to come to a head, to get fucked by both of them, in their bed, a total dream come true, soaked and more than ready you don’t need the rest of your clothing.

Her hands slip away and his hands are on you, he helps you, taking care of your bra and you sliding your panties off, now completely bare and then he is helping move you how he wants.

Repositioning you is easy, you wonder if they had planned this because they both seem to be on the exact same page about just how they wanted to have you, not like you have any complaints about that. You are on your side, Chucky is behind you, his back practically to your chest as Tiffany is getting onto the bed, taking her tank top off as she does so and now she is in just her panties and your eyes are wide, “Holy fuck-”

His chin on your shoulder, looking over to see the view of Tiffany in barely anything and he says, “I never, ever get tired of seeing that. Her body is fucking insane, those tits? I mean come onnn-” His hands are on you, the small shake as he moans that out makes you giggle.

She is throwing the garment aside with a fond roll of her eyes and a smile on her lips, one hand in his hair, an arch of her back pushing her chest out further and she asks you softly, “You wanna touch?”

You tell her, “If I ever say no to that I think you can assume something is seriously wrong with me.” She scoots closer as she says with a smile, “Well go ahead.”

You do as she encourages, one hand cupping her and she is impossibly soft and incredibly warm, she sighs, leaning more into your touch, eyes falling closed and your thumb circles one of her nipples. All of the nice tits comments and filthy compliments aside that you could tell her, instead you utter completely sincerely, “You’re fucking beautiful. Just my God, Tiffany, you’re stunning.”

Her smile widens and she looks almost shy? As if she wasn’t expecting you to say that, and certainly not so sweetly and earnestly, you sound practically awed and that gets to her. Makes her heart beat faster, she wonders if you can feel it as you explore. Shocking Chucky doesn’t make some kind of comment on this but you do feel him grind against you, his enjoyment of the view more than apparent.

You vaguely register him pulling away for the moment and hearing the sound of the nightstand drawer pulling open and snapping closed, Tiffany has gotten more comfortable, she is on her side in front of you, she had initiated another kiss as your fingers carefully pinched her nipple between two fingers and rolled it. His hands are on you once more and his hand is between your legs, starting to move, you take the hint, moving with him so he is holding your leg out of the way, your other leg resting tangled between his, chest to back and you feel him there, hard shaft grinds over your lips and you moan into her mouth.

You break the kiss as his mouth is next to your ear, warm breath sends a shiver up your spine he is grinding against you, wetness from you spreading onto him, head of his dick bumping over your clit. Eyes flit down and you manage to catch a glimpse and the view is hot, you also realise why he leaned away before, while caught up playing with Tiffany he’d grabbed a condom. You were glad you didn’t have to ask, this was still so new, the first time you were doing this so of course it was a necessary precaution, who’s to say it will always be this way, if it is just you and Tiffany being with him there isn’t a reason to not feel him bare.

It’s just another fun thing to look forward to honestly, this is just the first of many.

He doesn’t need to ask because you take the initiative, reach down, fingers meet his shaft and you tilt your hips back, the position just right you push back as he moves forward and finally starts to sink inside. Your eyes close with a sharp inhale, it doesn’t hurt, far from it with how prepared you are, the stretch of him sliding halfway in on that first stroke feels exquisite. You can feel Tiffany’s eyes locked on the point of connection between you and Chucky, his grip on your thigh near the back of your knee tightens, he pulls out most of the way before driving back in, deeper, causing you to take more and you moan his name softly. A few more purposeful rocks of his hips and he is completely inside, he exhales heavily into your ear, you feel his forehead rest against you, both soaking in the feeling for a moment before Tiffany’s hand on your cheek snaps you out of it. Your eyes open to see her right there, so close you can feel her body heat and she asks, “How’s it feel?”

You don’t know if it is meant to be directed at you or him but you both answer anyway. First you, choking out, “So good, so full-” and then him, “Tight, wet, amazing.”

A steady pace is started, not fast or slow, a good even tempo that has you wanting to go limp in his grasp. One hand still occupied with holding your leg out of the way, his other arm was hooked around your body, over your shoulder, hand resting over your breasts, the extra point of contact makes it easier still to maneuver you, pull you down as he fucks up. Tiffany is watching intently, her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth, flushed cheeks and eyes flitting over, trying to capture every moment and movement and detail. She is really into this, you knew she would be but this is still a pretty big line to cross, fucking her boyfriend in their shared bed right in front of her, and there seems to be not a single hint of jealousy, no she loves it, that helps you sink even further into it. A turn of your head and you manage to catch his lips in a sloppy kiss, you start to move too, desperate to make this better, increase the feeling as you rock together.

“He’s being so nice to you.” She praises and you break that kiss with a laugh, asking, “Is he us-usually me-an?”

He exhales amused and thrusts harder into you, “I can be.” He breathes that to you in a way that makes you clench around him, maybe you’d like him being mean to you.

“M’ sure he won’t be able to be on his best behaviour forever.” Tiffany tells you and you want to sigh out, “Promise?” But instead an incoherent moan leaves you because Tiffany’s hands are getting back to work, fingers press to your clit and swirl making the euphoria spike aggressively. A weakened and hiccupping moan of her name as your movements become sloppy, trying to buck back onto Chucky is becoming more difficult with both of them so focused on you.

“Fuck Tiff, keep going.” Was he reading your mind when he said that because you were about two seconds from begging for that yourself, his breathing is as laboured as yours. You didn’t think you’d last much longer like this at all and the small fact of that, of getting close makes it worse, unable to keep any of the sounds inside, moaning openly. Tiffany’s fingers working over your sensitive flesh as he continues to fuck into you, steady and deep strokes you are panting, your head raises from where it had been laying on Chucky’s arm that was still hooked around you, managing to catch his gaze. The eye contact is intense, the shared heavy breathing, bodies moving together and consistently getting better, adjusting and figuring each other’s bodies out, your eyes break away only for a second to catch Tiffany’s, she presses harder and you whine out that you are getting close. It is only a few minutes into this and you are threatening to fall apart between them, your hand catches the back of Tiffany’s neck, you pull her close, kissing her, tongue in her mouth and she returns your affection with a groan of her own.

“Shit, you’re too hot-” Chucky pants out, his grip on your leg just might leave bruises, you don’t care as he fights to keep pace, “-practically stranglin’ me, so tight I can barely fuck-ing move.”

You are right there, on the very edge, your mouth slips from hers, face buried in her neck and with the combination of one more purposeful thrust from him and a move of her hand you gasped out a pathetic warning of, “-cumming!”

“Yes, fuck yes, come on.” His encouragement fills your ears and makes your skin under his touch tingle. Before it happens, you slip and ecstasy overtakes, body tenses further, trembling as the weight of the feeling threatens to crush you, no real coherent sound, just pitched fluctuations of your breathing and murmurs that could be read as curses if you squint hard enough. You don’t think, you just feel, completely given over to the moment and to them. Her touch only begins to ease when your whimpering sounds like it is beginning to border on painful, he doesn’t relent though, it draws the remnants of your orgasm out for a long time, eventually you do regain some words, mostly it is his name, muttered between kisses you laid on Tiffany’s throat where your face is still buried. You can’t see but you are positive she is touching herself now, the way her moans are mixing with yours and his, how her body shudders, your tongue darts out and tastes the salt of her skin and she arches closer to you.

Chucky’s entire body is nearly pressed to yours, he is talking again, fractured praise, “So good, I knew you would be but fuck, you-you’re-” His sentence trails off with another groan as his hips slam into yours but you don’t care, even without finishing the compliment it effects you deeply.

When she moves away you want to question it, want to ask what she is doing but it becomes clear in short order, she sinks down. Her hand that isn’t between her own is on your inner thigh, she managed to get in just the right position and she moved in, her lips press gently and carefully to your straining clit and your body reacts as if shocked, spasming with a cry, he must feel it too from the hiss he lets out. “Goddamn you just clenched so hard-”

Tiffany listens, her own fingers are moving quickly between her legs but her mouth moves faster, pretty pink tongue licks up over and over a few times, pulling delicious sounds from you whenever she does before her lips lock around the throbbing nub and she sucks. This one has very little build up, it seems one minute you aren’t and the very next you are, as if she forcefully dragged you to the edge and threw you over the cliffs edge into heaven in a few short minutes. You are calling her name, fingers tangled in soft blonde hair as you ground on her tongue and just when you’re orgasm is at its peak you push on her head, she doesn’t relent, she forces you to feel every single bit of it and only leaves you when she is satisfied with her work.

You are still shaking, trying to breathe through the aftershocks when three last hard thrusts cause your whole body to move once more with his spell Chucky’s end, your name staining his tongue as he drives that last time to the hilt and holds as he spills into the condom. You feel him slightly trembling through his high and that makes you smile dreamily, feeling powerful you were able to do that, he released this huge breath and sighs as his body starts to go slack, “Jesus, holding out till you were done was practically torture.”

You clear your throat, finding your voice you say, “M’ sure it’s the kinda torture you’ll happily come back for a second helping of.”

He laughs breathlessly, “You’re not wrong.”

The sentiment is nice, him caring enough to make sure you got yours before getting his, he slowly pulls out with a grunt and he lets go of your leg, your hand comes back, you rub your hip as you close your legs again, you feel incredible but this wasn’t over yet. He is on the same page as you because now that the condom was thrown away he was moving closer to Tiffany. She just did a ton of heavy lifting for you both, helped make the first time he fucked you incredible and saw to it that you and he came insanely hard and the only thing on both yours and his minds were returning the favor. You realised she was still wearing those panties and you had to do something about that. Your fingers hook into the sides of the thin material covering the last part of her and you begin to move it out of the way, sliding them down her thighs and exposing her to you.

Keeping your mouth closed was impossible, it is involuntary, your lips parting slightly as seeing her totally bare and Chucky laughs, you look over to see him, head pitched forward, shaking his head slightly, fuck, his hair was a mess from how your hand was buried in it at one point while he fucked you. “What is so funny, Chuck?”

“Nothin’ just-” His hand runs through his hair before popping back up, sideways smile, as he says, “-I had that exact same look first time I saw her naked.”

“Only the first time? Try every time.” Her tone is light but at the same time it is undercut with clear need, “Can you blame a guy? You look like you were ripped right outta a magazine.”

He leaned down, a kiss to her forehead and you reached out, your hand touched down and her legs jerk at the feeling, she was drenched, absolutely soaked and as you learned within a minute, very responsive. You had just cum twice in pretty quick succession, you felt totally satisfied but she was changing that. He was kissing her, hand stroking over her neck and moving to play with her ample chest, you got more comfortable as you used your hands, your head was swimming, finally touching her after so long, hearing the sounds she made, how different touches made her react, you ended up pressing your thighs together when your fingers slipped into her, she gasped your name into his mouth and fuck, you did that.

She felt incredible inside, slick, pulsing, tight, if it feels this good for your fingers to be inside her you can only imagine what it is like for him to fuck her. He is pulling away from her kisses to ask, “How’s she doing?”

“Amazing-” She sighed that out, lips parted and eyes half lidded in bliss, and he is ginning, “Yeah seems like.”

He looks over to you and then sits up again, he motions for you to come closer, you do so, leaning nearer and not stopping touching, he whispers to you, telling you, “Make it like you are crossing your fingers like you’re lyin’, twist em back and forth and then curl them up and press hard.”

Your nose wrinkles in confusion but you do as he suggests, upon you following his instruction, her whole body bows and she cries out louder than you have ever heard previously, your eyebrows raise in shock and he teases, “Told ya.”

It turns out that she didn’t need long, between him pinching her nipples, whispering more commands on just what to do, she is cumming on your fingers loudly within five minutes. You wished you looked half as good as she does when she cums, you are totally captivated, the way her body rolls and the moans she lets out, it’s nothing short of pure art.

Her hand locks on your wrist and she begs, “Please, stop, fuck-”

You do, you’d been so caught up in her that you hadn’t let up for a second, overstimulation must have been setting in hard, poor thing, you slowly and reluctantly pull your fingers out. Before you get the chance to taste her he is pulling your fingers into his mouth and your mouth drops in shock, “You asshole! I worked hard for that treat-”

Your fingers pop out and he says wetly, “You want it? Come get it.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You sighed but you still pulled him nearer and kissed him either way. Sharing the taste of her when you kissed him might just be one of your new favourite things. When the affection finally reached a natural end, Tiffany said, “My legs might not be working right now but don’t leave me out.”

You and Chucky oblige. You both kiss her, one after the other and wrap her up in your arms. Sweaty and tangled limbs all cuddling on top of the messed up sheets as you relax and breathng slowly starts to even out. "That was-" You start, voice trailing off.

"Is there no words, again?" Tiffany asks and you say, "Nope! I swear to God I have a good vocabulary, my brain just doesn't work after what you both do to me."

"Awe yeah sweet thing, you are real smart, we both know it." Tiffany praised. "Fucking you dumb is a good pass time." He muses as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

The come down takes a long while. The bedroom window is cracked the smallest amount possible because it got stiflingly hot in the room as well the snow still coming down so hard making opening it any further a stupid idea. The pair of them doing what you has to assume is their normal ritual post fuck, both lighting up for another cigarette. You were still naked but actually in bed now, under the sheets and just watching them. Sitting up in the low lamp light, easy conversation and joking between the pair, she had his shirt on and he’d tugged his underwear back on, both their hair a mess and you just felt happy. Really fucking happy.

Nowhere to be, just soaking up the moment with them. He asks, “Is there any of that lasagna left?”

“What are you hungry at this time of night?” She asks on an exhale of smoke and he says, “Yes I am, all that really took it out of me.”

“Sex like that is hungry work, I have to say I could do with a snack myself.” You say and between the pair of you she can’t say no. So at nearly three AM, smokes finished, the three of you are sitting up in bed and sharing a plate of lasagna, by the time you all do fall asleep it’s almost four and you are thoroughly exhausted and slotted between them, you are positive this has to be the best sleepover you’ve ever had.

Would it be weird to send a thank you letter to the weather station for getting the forecast so wrong and making all this happen? Probably. And yet you were still considering it.

#Through The Heart Is The Only Way #TTHITOW #Poly!Chiffany x reader #Chucky X reader #Tiffany Valentine X Reader #Slasher x reader #Charles Lee Ray X reader #BHF writing #Multi-May #HERE IT IS

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wikiangela · 4 months

Text

✨ 2023 writing round-up ✨

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon <3

I posted 22 fics this year (including the multi-chapter fic I started last december) and 21 of those were 911, and 20 were buddie lol the very first fic was the ending of my sambucky era (or a pause, I might go back who knows) and then buddie fully took over

idk what it was about this year, bc I've been writing buddie since march 2021, but now it's like the only thing I write haha

putting all the fics i've written this year under the cut bc it got loooong haha - clearly, march this year was big for me, so many fics haha

January

June 14th, 2025 (I've been waiting for you my whole life) Sambucky, T, 3.5k

A year after getting engaged, Sam and Bucky get married. A little oneshot that takes place after the events of my fic "sounds like an angel (he might be a demon)".

___

March

The one with groceries and bad coffee buddie, G, 1.3k

It’s fucking coffee, of all things, that finally does it. Or, Buck buys Eddie's favorite brand of coffee for his loft, and Eddie's brain short-circuits, leading to a realization.

Fine buddie, 1.6k

Eddie’s foot feels heavy on the gas pedal, while his hands grip the steering wheel tightly, to prevent them from shaking. He’s driving almost on autopilot, while trying his best to compartmentalize and focus on just getting to the hospital, trying not to think about Buck- about what’s happening in the back of the ambulance right now. Or, after the drive to the hospital after Buck's hit by lightning, Eddie loses it. Sort of 6x10 coda.

don't know what I'd do if your tomorrow never came buddie, 1.9k

He can’t help but think that this is some kind of sick joke from the universe, which he doesn’t believe but he knows Buck would. “The universe is screaming at you and you refuse to listen” is what Buck said once, it feels like a lifetime ago. He didn't believe it, then, either. And now the universe is mocking Eddie, having him have to tell their kid about Buck, just like Buck had to tell him about the shooting. Eddie doesn’t know how Buck did it, how he had the strength, because he’s on the verge of breaking down and shattering into a million little pieces. Or, Eddie goes home to tell Christopher about Buck getting hurt.

we got time (but we're only human) buddie, 1.6k

“We got time, Eds.” Buck chuckles. “Not enough.” Eddie’s voice breaks a little. Buck squeezes his hand. “We almost ran out of time, and I can’t just wait until it happens again, Buck. Besides, life is short. We’ll never really have enough time, because a lifetime with you wouldn’t be enough." Or, Buck wakes up from his coma, and Eddie, done with wasting time, confesses his feelings.

I can't love you any more (than I do now) buddie, G, 2.6k

Eddie's pretty sure he and Buck are dating and kind of living together. Neither acknowledges it, until Eddie finally does.

I don't mind a detour (as long as I still get to be yours) buddie, G, 1.4k

Buck falls asleep on Eddie's couch. Eddie has feelings about it.

___

April

me and you only equals love buddie, E, 6.6k

“What would you say,” Eddie brings one of his hands to Buck’s face, traces his jaw, feather-light, barely there touch, and hears Buck take a shaky breath, eyes wide with something like awe not leaving Eddie’s face, “if I wanted to kiss you? Just hypothetically.” OR, Eddie is horny and in love, and after the poker date, he finally kisses Buck - and things unfold from there. aka my first smut lol

you're the one I want buddie, G, 1.4k

“You know there’s only one person I’m interested in.” “And who might that be?” Buck leans back against the counter with a goofy grin, and Eddie wants to just go over there and kiss him. “Just my best friend I’m kind of hopelessly in love with.” Eddie shrugs, and enjoys seeing how Buck’s whole face gets red. OR, no one knows that Eddie and Buck are dating, Pepa tries to set Eddie up on dates, and Buck finds it amusing.

kiss it better buddie, G, 1.5k

Buck burns his tongue, Eddie makes a joke, and everything changes.

stuck with each other buddie, G, 2.5k

Buck's new fixation is buying unnecessary kitchen gadgets that end up in Eddie's kitchen, they all cook together, and Eddie can't keep his feelings in check.

I'm free in salt water (embrace the deep end, leave everything) maddie fic, 612 words

Sobbing, Maddie got up and, fully clothed, stepped into the ocean. Cold water was splattering against her, as she kept walking, fighting against the waves that tried to push her out. She was determined. It wasn’t her first attempt at killing herself, but it would be the first time she would be successful. OR, What was going through Maddie's mind as she walks into the ocean? (wrote this one when i was bored in class in college about a year before I posted this and idk if I like it tbh but it's posted haha)

___

May

I'd marry you with paper rings buddie, G, 3.4k

“If we’re not married by the time we’re, like, forty, we should just marry each other.” he chuckles, and downs the rest of his beer. And Eddie… Eddie knows it’s a joke. Obviously. It can’t be anything but. But still, it does something to him. He’s thought about it, fantasized about it, but hearing it from Buck, even jokingly… “Why wait?” his tone is also teasing. He can play it off as a joke, while still looking for Buck’s reaction, for any indication about how he feels. (...) “Let’s just do it now and get it over with.” Or, Buck makes a joke that leads to an unplanned marriage proposal.

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life? buddie, G, 2.9k

Buck spends time with Eddie and Chris, and for some reason finds himself incapable of telling Natalia, which leads to some realizations.

what a mighty good man buddie, G, 3.4k

Buck loses his phone, and Eddie calls him to help him find it - but he does not expect the ringtone Buck has set for him.

___

June

me, you, our kid and a dog buddie, G, 4.7k

Buck and Chris try to convince Eddie to get a dog, while not even living together. It leads to more unexpected changes than Eddie could ever imagine.

___

July

you been looking for love (let me show you how it's done) buddie, E, 12.2k

“Are you-” he frowns, the confusion somehow winning with the urge to just lean in and kiss him so thoroughly he’ll forget about any other kiss he might’ve shared with any dates. “Are you doing all this on purpose?” “Doing what?” Eddie tilts his head, licks his lips, and – Buck’s almost a hundred percent sure – drops his gaze to Buck’s lips for a second. “Eddie.” Buck takes a deep breath, and wants so badly to kiss the smirk off of Eddie’s face. “Please.” “What for?” “You’re driving me insane.” he whispers, nails digging into his palms to prevent himself from reaching out. But Eddie’s thigh is pressed against his, and somehow his hand is on Buck’s knee now, and Eddie’s looking at him in such a way, that it makes Buck hot all over – or, hotter, his palms are sweating, actually. “And I feel like you are doing it on purpose.” or, Eddie is a tease, Buck is horny and jealous of Eddie dating, and a regular evening takes an unexpected turn.

___

August

For a holiday (and forevermore) buddie, M, 95k, 30 chapters

Eddie's sick of personal, intrusive questions about his love life whenever he visits his family, so he starts bringing Buck for the holidays as his (fake) boyfriend. He only wants to shut them up, and doesn't expect that the small crush he has on his best friend could actually turn into something more... (my baby fake dating holiday fic <3)

I could get lost in the feelings (just say that you belong to me) buddie, E, 15k

“Wait, wha- how- how do you feel about me?” Buck asks, his voice quiet and almost hesitant. “Buck, really? Isn’t it obvious? Do I have to spell it out for you?” Eddie sighs, eyes finally locking with Buck’s. “I think I’d like you to.” he whispers, eyes wide. “Just so I- just so I’m sure.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Eddie mutters, and then, frustrated and sad, and angry, he takes the few steps separating him from Buck, grabs his face with both hands, and crashes their lips together. Or, Buck's going on a date, Eddie's so jealous he finally snaps and reveals his feelings, which leads to a passionate evening in Buck's kitchen. aka the possessive smut which might be one of my fave fics ever haha

___

September

baby, you drive me wild buddie, E, 10.9k

He places his left hand on Buck’s thigh now, and Buck’s smirk just grows. “Eddie, I’m driving.” he says mock-scolding, but he chuckles breathily, as Eddie shifts in his seat, angling more towards Buck, taking his right hand and very lightly moving it along Buck’s inner thigh, following the seam of his jeans, until he gets to his dick. “Pull over, then.” he hears his own hoarse voice, as his hand grips Buck’s also already hard dick, getting a gasp out of him, his left hand still on Buck’s thigh digging its fingers into the leg. He really doesn’t think he can wait until they get home. “Eddie.” Buck shakes his head slightly, eyes not leaving the road. “We’re not gonna have sex on the side of the road.” Or, Buck and Eddie have car sex on the side of the road. one of my absolute favorite fics I've written and i think my fave smut ngl haha

___

October

the next best thing buddie, E, 9k

And, look, Eddie could say that it’s all good, delete the message, and pretend it never happened. Except, the more he looks, the more turned on he gets, and his hand starts stroking his dick through the fabric, and- and his mind is clouded by arousal and jealousy, and such strong feeling of possessive want, he’s not thinking when he throws the covers away, takes a picture of his bulge, cock hard and leaking, a wet spot visible on his underwear, and sends it to Buck in response, with a text that says ‘no worries, I liked it. fuck, I want that gorgeous cock all to myself’. It’s so unlike him, he’d never even taken a nude picture before now, but- but this is Buck, who makes some sort of crazy possessive beast roar to life in his chest, and has his body screaming at him to do something, anything to get Buck’s attention on him, instead of whoever the hell was on the receiving end of the messages leading to that one. ‘HOLY SHIT’ is what he gets back, and not even two seconds later, Buck’s calling him. Or, Buck accidentally sends a nude and a spicy text to Eddie - things escalate from there.

___

November

I wanna spend my forever like that buddie, G, 8.6k

Eddie catches a cold and stubbornly denies he's sick, while a fondly exasperated Buck is trying to take care of him.

____

Writing Round-Up: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones your most excited about.

no pressure tags: @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @daffi-990 @loserdiaz @lover-of-mine @giddyupbuck @spotsandsocks @housewifebuck @underwater-ninja-13 @hoodie-buck @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @thewolvesof1998 @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @pirrusstuff @fortheloveofbuddie

#2023 writing round-up #writing round-up #tag games #i wrote so much at in march-april-may and then there's a decline lmao #self recs #i love most of the fics on here ngl #this year has been good when it comes to writing #clearly the lightning got to me lmao how did i write so much about it #this is so long lmao but ill never pass an opportunity to self rec sns 🙈

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fayes-fics · 1 year

Text

It Had To Be You: Chapter 1 - A brand-new start

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader (also features Benedict Bridgerton x Genevieve Delacroix), Modern AU

Chapter Summary: A long drive from St Andrew’s to London with a virtual stranger

artwork credit: @colettebronte

Warnings: none really… some language, bickering and flirting.

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: Welcome to Chapter 1 of my next multi-chapter. A modern romcom heavily inspired by When Harry Met Sally. Thank you to @makaylan and @colettebronte for reading through. I hope to update this fic every couple of weeks. Please enjoy! <3

12 Years Ago

When you pull up outside her halls of residence, she has her tongue down some man’s throat—typical Gen.

She finally acknowledges your presence when you lower the window and cough pointedly. A few days ago, when she said her latest boyfriend needed a lift from St Andrews to London, you didn't offer; she volunteered him to join you before you could conjure a believable excuse. Someone to talk to on the long journey wouldn't be such a bad thing; you tried to convince yourself reluctantly. You were slightly worried about who he might be. Gen’s taste in men could be best described as random. Or questionable if you were feeling less charitable. But as he turns towards you, something in your chest flutters.

Oh.

He looks different to her usual choices. He appears rich, just from a glance. But the sort of rich that dresses in ratty clothes as a style choice rather than out of economic necessity. His jeans are distressed around the knees, and there’s an almost threadbare patch right around his rather shapely - don't look there, you admonish yourself - arse. He wears a faded grey t-shirt and converse that are speckled with paint.

“Y/n, meet Ben,” he nods briefly before she pulls him back for another completely inappropriate kiss.

Ben...? Really, Gen? Matching names is a bit too fucking twee.

As they break away, he tosses his bags in the boot of your car and, after another round of tonsil tennis, climbs into your passenger seat. He smiles crookedly, and you see his blueish eyes catch a ray of late Spring sun; his voice instantly makes you shift in your seat as you exchange hellos. Definitely a posh boy. Definitely a playboy. Definitely not the type to keep his bed empty for long. You already dislike him. You especially dislike how attractive your body seems to find him, despite yourself.

This is going to be a long journey.

“You want to drive the first shift?” you ask politely.

“You are already there,” he shrugs, “go right ahead.”

As Gen becomes a waving figure in your rearview mirror, something tells you you will likely never see her again. It's that time when life goes in a million different directions—the end of university. You've been here for your undergraduate course. Apparently, he has been here for his master's in Fine Arts.

“What takes you to London?” he asks as you pull out of the university grounds.

“I'm going to be a journalist,” you state proudly.

He laughs. “You and the rest of the world.”

You bristle at his amusement. You are a talented writer; you know it will happen for you someday. You have a summer internship at the Guardian. Okay, it's unpaid, but it's a start.

“You?” you shoot back, squinting in the sun.

“Artist. I’m setting up a studio in Hoxton.”

Urgh. That's so achingly trendy you actually want to smack him.

Your phone buzzes, and you check it discreetly at the next traffic light. It's from Gen.

Yep, I know exactly what you are thinking. Posh boy twat. His cock is amazing though. Safe travels x

You squeak and drop your phone into the footwell. Ben cuts you a curious sideways glance.

“I can grab it,” he offers rather chivalrously as he sees you groping blindly around your feet as the light turns green.

“No!” you startle, “it's fine, just uhh leave it there, I don't need it. I know the way to Edinburgh from here.” your voice takes on a high-pitched quality that sounds ridiculous even to your own ears.

He seems to stare at your profile for an inordinate amount of time.

“Gen said you were a little high-strung,” he says drolly.

You frown over at him. “I'm just particular,” you argue back.

He laughs and looks out the window. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Yes, I do,” you prickle, “that’s a disgusting habit, and you should give it up.”

“She said you were opinionated too,” he adds, his tone so casual and laid back it just makes you more wound up.

“My car, my rules,” you retort, glancing irritated in your rearview at the lorry getting far too familiar with your rear bumper.

“That's fair enough.”

He suddenly lunges for something in the backseat, twisting so his t-shirt rides up, his whole body thrust towards you. You see a flash of toned abdominal muscle and a tantalising line of hair disappearing into his jeans.

You quickly cut your eyes back to the road and have to slam on the brake not to hit the car in front, praying momentarily that the lorry behind is paying more attention than you are. Damn him.

“Fucking hell!” he exclaims, falling back into his seat and grabbing the dashboard to right himself.

“Sorry,” you mumble, knowing you are blushing. “Can you please not do that when I'm driving?”

“Do what?” he feigns ignorance, but you can tell he knows exactly what just happened, the cocky bastard.

“Climb into the backseat,” you grumble.

“I leaned back to grab something; I didn't climb anywhere,” he disputes, shaking a packet at you. “This is for your benefit, I might add,” he says pointedly, ripping open the box and fishing out a nicotine patch.

“Well, just sit still, please,” you huff, spying a flash of very shapely bicep out of the corner of your eye as he rolls up the sleeve and slaps on the patch.

“Yeah, not highly strung at all,” he mutters under his breath.

Yep. You absolutely want to kick him.

—

It’s almost 2 hours later and lunchtime when you pull into the services just outside Glasgow, needing a toilet break.

“Want a sausage roll?” he asks casually, stretching his limbs in a somewhat distracting manner as you lock the doors. Out of the car now, you realise he's taller than you expected; around 6 feet would be your guess.

“No thanks, I uhh don't eat that stuff. I made a salad; I'm just going to eat that,” you respond, tapping the little bag on your shoulder.

“You made a salad? For a road trip?” he looks at you like you have three heads, and again your dander is up.

“Nothing wrong with being prepared,” you sniff.

He chuckles and shrugs a shoulder as you wander into the building and agree to meet at a table after.

Just as you are neatly drizzling your salad dressing, he saunters over a bright red plastic tray in hand, holding an assortment of beige foods and a large bottle of Coke. You can’t school your horror at the contents of his plate.

“What?” he laughs, taking a seat next to you.

“If smoking doesn't kill you, that might,” you say airily.

“You really do have just so many opinions,” he looks at you as if you are some fascinating species, dons a stupid broad grin and takes a huge bite.

“Am I wrong though?” you raise an eyebrow in challenge, waiting for him to take the bait. Instead, he changes tack.

“Gen never said you were so pretty,” his statement, muffled around the sausage roll, is so matter of fact that you don't think you heard him correctly for a split-second.

“Excuse me?!?” you can't hide the disdain in your voice. “You are Gen’s boyfriend,” you say slowly.

“So?”

“So you shouldn't be flirting with me!” you explain, feeling as if it's unnecessary to do so.

He laughs so hard that some pastry sprays across the table. “I'm not!” he dismisses.

“Yes, you are!” your indignancy rising.

“Can’t I say you are pretty without it being flirtatious?” he posits.

“No!”

“Okay, fine,” he capitulates, wiping his greased fingers on a paper serviette, “I take it back.”

“Well, that’s just rude,” you huff.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don't want you to say anything! Just… don't notice me at all! You are dating my friend!” your voice again takes on that shrill quality you dislike.

“Sorry,” he raises his hands in defeat. Then after a few moments of silence where you just poke at your lettuce leaves, your eyes meet again. “Genuinely,” his hand on his chest, “I am sorry. I'm an artist. I can't help but notice objectively beautiful things. I truly meant nothing untoward,” the sincerity taking you slightly aback.

You would think it a line he’s using, but his hazy blue eyes somehow give away the truth—he means every word. You are also trying to ignore how the words, ‘objectively beautiful’, echo in your head.

“Well… just… remember, Gen is my friend; I don't want her hurt,” you volley back defensively.

“Neither do I,” he replies, taking a sip of his drink and turning to look out of the nearby window.

The fact you notice an adorable little bump in the profile of his nose is something you pretend doesn't happen.

—

It's mid-afternoon when the rain rolls in somewhere in the Borders. He had taken over driving duty at the rest stop. You were initially concerned about handing the keys to your mum’s old Ford Focus, but to be fair, he seems a sensible enough driver.

“Music?” he asks brightly as he flicks on the wipers.

“An old iPod is connected via the aux,” you shrug.

“Oh, what's on it?” he queries.

“God, all sorts. A lot of 90s indie stuff and Britpop, Im afraid.”

“Brilliant! Put on some Blur.”

You perk up. “Really? I thought us too young for Blur,” you jest.

“I’ve got a few years on you, remember?” he chuckles as you select a random shuffle of their music.

As the opening chords of Country House ring out, he starts to nod his head comedically.

“City dweller, successful fella,” you both chant in unison as the song starts, and you giggle.

You find yourselves singing along loudly. It appears he knows all the words as much as you do.

“I'm a professional cynic, but my heart's not in it,” you say loudly as he points for you to take that line.

“I'm paying the price of living life at the limit,” he picks up as you mirror the gesture.

Your fleeting thought is that the lyrics are the right choice for your different personalities somehow. Or what you know of him so far.

“He lives in a house, a very big house in the country!!!” you both almost yell, laughing heartily around the words.

And that's how the next twenty minutes are spent. Singing along slightly tunelessly to Blur as you cross the border into England, and the journey continues.

—

You stop at motorway services outside Manchester around tea time, having listened to most of your Blur back catalogue and lots of Pulp too. You frown as he tucks into a Big Mac and fries as you pick at a soup and roll.

As you eat, you quarrel about the best American 90s sitcom - Friends or Frasier - you claim the latter until he plumbs for Seinfeld instead at the last minute. You throw down your spoon in annoyance that he changed the rules of his own game, splashing your jumper, which makes you even more pissed off. You make him get up and recycle your empty soup bowl for you, pettily refusing to get out of your chair. He counters that you look adorable when you have a tantrum, and you snatch the keys, threatening to drive off without him. To the people around you, you look, to all intents and purposes, like a bickering married couple, not someone you only met a few hours prior.

When you hit the road, you take over driving duty again. You plan to drive the rest of the way to London; it should only be another three and a half hours.

After his junk food dinner, he passes out in the passenger seat for over two hours. You don’t mind the silence; it’s a novel respite from your squabbling. And if you steal a few glances at his very attractive face as it lolls around, well, you’re not going to admit that to anyone. (What you don’t see is his eyes opening periodically and staring at you, too, between drifts of sleep.)

It’s almost certain you have never met anyone in your 22 years on this earth that you spar with more than him. But it’s not bitter; it’s just like you are so opposite you can't help but be drawn to each other’s orbits, even if all you do is rile each other up. You’ve never met anyone quite so contrarian as him. Or anyone quite as troubling to your hormones. You want to smack his face AND pull him in for a deep kiss, jump on his lap and grind hard. It’s quite the most disconcerting thing.

It’s just after 10 pm when he offers to take over driving duty again on the outskirts of London, as he knows it quite well. His family have a pied-a-terre in Mayfair. Yup, posh twat. However, you’re grateful for the offer, this being your first time in the city except for brief day trips as a child. And as the suburbs give way to the glow of the inner city, you are talking, well, arguing, about movies. Specifically, Titanic that he claims Gen made him sit through last week.

“You're wrong”, you argue, shaking your head.

“There was room on that door for both of them,” he defends.

“It would have sunk if he climbed on too. He did the right, noble thing, sacrificing himself like that,” you assert.

“Please, they could have laid on top of one another and kept it mostly afloat. It’s not as if it would be a big issue; they already had sex, for fuck’s sake,” he counters, waving his hand.

“Yeah, but so what? Sex is great, but it’s not a reason to risk both of you dying by SINKING THE DAMN DOOR,” you huff.

“Oh, I see,” he gloats.

“What? What do you see?” you shoot back, riled up. This man’s ability to get under your skin is almost frightening.

“Obviously, you haven’t had great sex yet,” he shrugs, staring ahead as he drives.

“Yes, I bloody have!”

“No, you haven’t,” the dismissive tone is so irritating.

“So have!”

He chuckles. “Okay then. Who? Who have you had great sex with?”

You flick through your collage of university experiences. A mixed bag, if you were honest. Then a triumphant smirk covers your face.

“Melissa.”

The smirk grows wider as he swerves the car a little, almost taking out a delivery cyclist, and snaps his head over at you. You can practically see his brain buffering. He was expecting a dull boy’s name so that he could argue back.

“Tell me more,” his voice has dropped an octave and goosebumps erupt on your upper arms at the sound.

“She knew her way around between a woman’s legs,” you shrug, meeting his eyes and feeling temporarily unmoored by how dilated they suddenly are, rubbing your bicep instinctually to tamp the evidence of the effect he has had on you, hidden beneath your jumper though it is.

“Tongue and fingers?” His question is soft.

“Whole face and hands,” you counter, not missing how his tongue shoots out to lick, then bite his parched lip and his subtle shift in his seat.

The idea of him physically turned on by the mental picture he is building for himself should make you affronted. Instead, your hand itches to shock him, reach out and grab him, order him to keep driving as you palm him over his jeans. You are horrified by where your thoughts turn. This is your friend's boyfriend. You can’t stand him… can you?

“Lucky lady,” he mutters.

“Yeah, I was,” you tilt your head to one side in reminiscence.

“I was talking about Melissa,” he replies, and you don’t know how to respond to that. So you don’t. You just reach for your bag of Maltesers you bought at the last petrol station and snag one.

“How’s far til yours?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Hmm, interesting,” he says thoughtfully but doesn’t elucidate. “Not long now, we’re passing Swiss Cottage,” he responds as if that’s supposed to mean something to you.

Suddenly a hand is hovering right before you, almost brushing your breast.

“What?” You frown, pretending not to jump.

“Malteser,” he requests, raising an eyebrow and glancing over.

“You should have bought some for yourself at the last stop if you wanted some,” you volley back, smirking and popping another into your mouth obnoxiously.

“You aren’t very likeable sometimes, you know,” he pouts, withdrawing his hand when he realises you mean it.

“I am to people I like,” you counter.

“Guess we are not going to be friends then,” he says sarcastically.

“Guess not,” you chime back. “It's a shame; you were the only person I knew in London...”

And as he pulls up outside some fancy building in Mayfair, you shake hands somewhat stiffly after helping him unload his bags. You part ways without exchanging information. Such a strangely abrupt ending to your twelve-hour trip where it seems you ran the gamut of human emotion together. You try not to be too bothered by it as you follow your sat nav towards the less salubrious environs of Leytonstone, where you have rented a studio flat—deciding to put Ben Bridgerton as far out of your mind as possible. You doubt you’ll ever see his face again. After all, what are the chances in this big city?

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #it had to be you fic

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briefhottubcoffee · 7 months

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Hello! This is the very first story I have ever put out into the world! I am very nervous and have ~social anxiety~ so please be kind!

This story came to me looking at all the stuff my friend with kids has on her fridge and I thought it would be perfect for the Forgers. My husband helped me brainstorm ideas so it may be multi-chapter. I’m waiting to make an AO3 account. Again I’ve never done this before lol. Apologies if formatting is weird, I only use tumblr on mobile.

Refrigerator Magnets

Loid is grocery shopping with his daughter one Thursday evening, the sky cloudy and gray. He’s so tired. He was assigned two extra side missions this week, dull and mind numbing, but then a patient at the hospital actually did kick him in the stomach! It wasn't just an excuse! Leaving a bruise and a slight wince to appear on his face occasionally when he inhaled. But they needed groceries for this weekend and Anya was still bustling with energy when she came home from school, Yor working late. So out he went, robotically putting ingredients in the cart and leaning his body on it far more than he usually did. Anya was skipping beside the cart, humming a tune, the exact opposite of her father. He could never get on her level.

And then she spotted them, hanging from an endcap as Loid browsed the juices, a package of refrigerator magnets, different colorful animals.

“Papa!” Look! This looks just like Agent Penguinman! And this one is like the lion I saw at the zoo!”

He reaches for the pack, handing them to her for a closer look. She coos at them before putting a cute, purposeful look on her face, flipping the package and standing on her toes for him to see.

“Neat,” he says mildly, gesturing for her to throw them in the cart, and letting her help him steer. He grabs his ingredients and her favorite candy bar before heading to the front. I am a normal, tired father, he thinks, apologetically smiling at the cashier as Anya, pushing the cart she can’t even see over, lightly crashes into the corner of the register.

******

Another Thursday evening, this one a little brighter with Yor’s pretty smile directed at him and the refrigerator magnets bringing some color to their kitchen. She’s helping him start dinner, when the front door bangs open and Bond shoots up from his nap. “Anya has returned!” their daughter shouts, grabbing for her dog.

“Welcome home, Anya. How was your day?” Yor asks, taking her hat from her head.

“Oh! Guess what?” Anya says. She unzips her backpack and rummages through before pulling out a rose pink envelope. “Anya was invited to a birthday party!” She lifts the invitation high above her head, before Loid grabs it.

“Oh? I’m glad you're making more friends.” An excellent source of information for Operation Strix. The parents of this child might be important in Ostania. It might be crucial for her to attend.

“Well, Hannah isn’t really Anya’s friend. She took the last cookie in the cafeteria,” Anya pouts.

“Well… she invited you to her party.”

“She invited the whole class,” Anya shrugs. “But can we go Papa? Can we? I’ll be nice to Hannah! She said there would be ponies! Ponies that we could ride?! And a big slide and an orch-ee-stra, and a magician!”

“My goodness! What an elaborate birthday party!” Yor says, opening the card and marveling at the beautiful, ornate invitation inside, fit more for a formal wedding than a seven-year-olds birthday party. Loid blinks. He supposes this is the norm for rich, pompous people, to spoil their children with extravagant birthday parties and ponies. Anya’s attempts to befriend her more wealthy classmates have not gone particularly well, Damian Desmond in particular, which caused Loid intense stomach pains, but this party could indeed be a big opportunity for the mission. He could meet some upper-class parents, perhaps gather intel, and then, of course, since this girl invited the whole class, Damian Desmond himself might attend. Could his parents even show? His reclusive target? Surely not, but this is still a good chance to get another foot in the door with his young son, a chance for Anya to play nice outside of school, a positive step forward!

“Alright, we can go,” he says. “But you’ll need to get her a present.”

“Ooohh lets go to the Big Toy Store! I can get Hannah a Mega Elephant Circus!” Anya squeals, spreading her arms wide. Loid turns to watch Yor with her pretty smile tack the pricey, shimmery invitation on the fridge with the elephant magnet. This birthday party is going to be a big expense for Operation Strix.

****

The invitation stays on the fridge for weeks, a reminder of the upcoming party and ooting for the Forgers. Before the party, the family heads to the toy store, the huge, expensive toy store, with giant stuffed animals and a freaking merry-go-round in the center.

Anya and Yor spend time checking out all the toys, Anya pointing out all the ones she wants. Loid trails behind, tired again. They settle on getting Hannah a doll tea set, reasonably priced, but still, hopefully, expensive enough to satisfy a rich family. Loid then sits on a bench to rest, watching Anya bounce up and down beside Yor, both waiting to ride the merry-go-round. Yor is such a huge help at times like these. He’s grumpy and worn down. Side missions pile up, patients pile up, and he feels a gnawing frustration at his lack of progress with Operation Strix. Yor’s pretty smile and cheery disposition make up for his failures with their daughter. She can get on Anya’s level. She can match Anya’s excitement about riding on a merry-go-round. She can marvel at a giant stuffed kangaroo with her and come up with a silly name for both the mama and the baby in her pouch. She can crouch down and help Anya snap blocks together as they build a castle complete with a watch tower for Bondman. Present and engaged and sweet all the time.

Last night, Anya was fussy when it was time to go to bed, too wound up to be sleepy. She wailed at Loid as he helped her with her pajamas and tried to tug the covers over her, rolling around in bed instead and kicking her feet up on the wall. Loid felt impatient and drained as he sighed at her. This is impossible. Bedtime seemed like a straightforward task but was so draining in reality. He felt like he would never get this parenting cover right. Yor came in after hearing their bickering, and laughed softly, kneeling down next to Loid.

“Let’s try to hush a bit,” she calmly said to their daughter, smoothing her hair down. Loid watched as Yor pulled out a book and began reading to Anya, and what an idyllic picture they made. Yor’s voice came out in such a tranquil way, her eyes twinkling in the dark room. He couldn’t look away. She kept stroking Anya’s hair, her voice like a melody, her presence like a soothing light. Like a miracle, Anya yawned and her eyes became heavy, and Yor shot Loid a smug look and he felt like he was flying. She was magic. She could do the impossible.

In the present, Loid watches with a frown as the pair climb aboard, Anya tugging on her mothers arm and pointing to the two horses she wants to ride.

“Will the ponies at the party be green and pink like these?” he hears his daughter shout.

“I doubt it,” Yor replies with a giggle, helping the girl on to her horse. The music starts and the ride begins to spin, daughter and mother sending exuberant waves to Loid as they squeal with excitement. Loid feels pensive and melancholy. Cranky. I am no good at this, he thinks. Appearances are everything for a spy, and he supposes he is a good father at surface level, to the bystanders who see him wave to his wife and daughter each and every time they make their way around. But he feels lacking. Anya is a sweet girl and Yor is a lovable mother, he feels another painful kick of guilt at the thought of using them, deceiving them. They deserve the real thing, a matching father to complete their pretty picture, something perfect enough to tack on the fridge and admire everyday. Not someone playing pretend.

It’s what needs to be done, he thinks with finality. He centers his thoughts, reminds himself of the mission, of war, of the invitation on the refrigerator with its elephant magnet, of what this seven-year-old’s birthday party means for world peace. Pull yourself together. He has rich parents to schmooze with, he must appear charming and affable, he must ask all the right questions, not too probing, not too demanding. He has to appear engaged and interested. He has to fit in with the other good fathers. They will be charming and affable, they will laugh with joy at their kids, walk next to them with their hands on their backs as they ride ponies, they will wipe their faces when they're covered in icing. He has to remind his daughter to play nice with Damain Desmond, to be on her best behavior, to not eat too much cake.

He has to crush this child's birthday party. World peace depends on it.

****

The party is too much. It’s so extravagant and pink. There are balloons and peonies everywhere, the birthday girl sits on a gold chair in a pink tutu with a crown on her head. Loid sighs. Next to him, Yor frets with the pink gift bag she’s holding, her lips in a thin line and a crinkle between her brows.

Loid leans towards her. “Rich people,” he scoffs with an eye roll and Yor looks up at him and giggles, swats his arm.

“Hi Becky!” Anya shouts as she pelts across the perfect, giant lawn.

“Anya, don’t crash into anyone,” Loid warns looking around. He immediately hones in on his main target for the day, a young boy with dark hair and a pompous arrogance about him, surrounded by two other boys and glaring at Anya as she twirls around, showing Becky her dress. Loid thinks of a way to move his mission forward, a way for Damian to bring up the Forgers to his father, who is definitely not here, so that he is interested. Perhaps there is a servant or even the boy's mother present? Someone closer to the man in question. Loid and Yor are then approached by the mother of the girl of the hour. Hannah’s family are rich socialites, the father a bank executive.

It’s time to schmooze.

The shmoozing goes well, the birthday party is in full swing. There’s a damn violin quartet in the corner, and waiters dressed as princes and princesses serving hors d'oeuvres to the parents. Loid has gotten a little useful information to bring back to Wise; the fathers had retreated to the mansion shortly after the party began. Loid had joined them for a bit, engaging in a game of poker and listening to the men complain about their wives and their jobs, gathering intel in a room full of cigar smoke. But he grew tired of it.

I have to make sure she and Damian are getting on well, he justifies to himself as he ventures back out to the lawn. He is the only father out there. He sees Yor standing awkwardly with the other mothers and slides next to her, resting a hand lightly at her waist.

“What are you doing back here, Dr. Forger?” Hannah’s mother asks, surprised.

“Oh I wanted to check on Anya. And I missed my wife,” he replies with a charming smile and Yor stiffens and flushes as the other women aww at them.

Anya and Damian are not interacting, at least not in any friendly way. Loid watches as Damian shoves past Anya and Becky in line for the pony ride.

“Rude!” Shouts Becky as Anya sticks her tongue out at him. Well… their relationship hasn’t improved much.

Loid blinks. There are at least ten ponies and only one handler, he seems a little overwhelmed at the task at hand, monitoring young children on little ponies trotting in a circle.

“Is no one going to help?” Loid asks Hannah’s mother, gesturing towards the pony ride.

“Well the boys are busy inside,” she replies with a sniff. “He’s got it covered.” And that’s the end of that.

This isn’t going to go well, Loid thinks as he rushes over, just as Damian Desmond tries to climb on to a pony alone. His foot gets stuck in the saddle, and he falls over. Tears well in his eyes as the other kids laugh at him. All except Anya who walks over to him.

“Here you go!” Anya extends her hand to Damian. He frowns at her, a bright red blush on his cheeks. “I don’t need your help, dummy!’ He shouts in reply. Despite the kids reaction, Loid is proud of his daughter for being caring and kind, compassionate and warm. Yor is raising her well.

“I’ll help you up,” Loid says, picking up the boy and placing him on the horse. Damian looks at him suspiciously. “You’re shorties- I mean- you’re Anya’s pops right?” he asks.

“Yup! Horses can be a bit intimidating at first, but you’re up here now! Just hold on tight to the reins and you’ll do great,” He says. His mind is running a million miles an hour. Don’t overdo it, this may get back to Desmond, be kind and fatherly, I am a good dad, I am a normal dad.

Damian is still blushing but mutters his thanks. Loid realizes this kid is alone. No guardian for him, he must have attended with friends. The ponies begin their circle. Loid stays nearby and straightens up the kids as needed, teaches them how to tuck their shoes into the saddle, how to hold the reins correctly. The handler shoots him a grateful look. The mothers are looking at him curiously. Maybe he messed up. Maybe he should be inside with the other men. Maybe it’s not normal, but it didn’t seem right to him to be like the other fathers. The men smoke inside while the women gossip outside, helpers and nannies monitoring the kids. It was so detached. He had felt something unsettling in his gut, something he couldn’t ignore. Maybe he actually did want to check on his daughter, maybe he actually did miss his wife. She’s looking at him now, her pretty smile back. He feels like he’s flying again. Anya is laughing with joy on her pony, the sound like bells, waving at her father.

No good, this is no good. This isn’t going to go well. He tries to center himself, remind himself why he’s actually here. But he can’t. He’s going around in circles. He’s flying high.

****

They return home from the party, everyone exhausted. Anya is quick to settle for the night, he considers nights like these where she is actually tired a miracle indeed.

“Night, Papa,” Anya mutters, closing her eyes and snuggling with her chimera. Loid hums and smiles, affection rising in his stomach. Anya is a good kid. Disruptive and loud, but sweet and happy, reminding him of the good in the world.

Once she is tucked into bed, he sighs and settles on to the couch, petting his dog on the head. Yor’s quiet tonight. She shuffles around the kitchen making tea, he sees her take down the party invitation from the refrigerator and tuck it into a box they keep on a shelf. She hands him his tea and he shoots her a grateful smile, but she’s looking away, her lips in a tight line and her frown back between her brows.

“What’s up?” He asks, letting the steam from the tea settle on his face. She looks at him and blushes, his heart stutters in his chest.

She sits with her tea and shakes her head. They stay silent. He listens to his dog snoring softly and the clock tick, as he and his wife watch each other with their tea. It’s a good night. It was a good day. He spent time with his family, for the mission, he reminds himself. He feels calm and warm, his mind slow, helpless, thinking of the picture they make in this living room, an idyllic picture.

“You’re a good father,” she says finally. “One of the best, I think.”

She blushes pink and her eyes twinkle and her pretty smile is back and Oh. I am flying again.

#spy x family #twiyor #loid x yor #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #damian desmond kinda #there’s no plot #and I thought it’d be fun to give Loid some anxiety about being a good father and husband instead of Yor #my first fanfic!!#spy x family fanfiction

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separatist-apologist · 1 year

Text

The Great War

I vowed I would always be yours

Summary: Feyre Archeron's kingdom has been warring with King Rhysand for longer than she can recall. When, on an unlucky stroke, he stumbles upon her and her sisters locked in a tower, Feyre will do whatever it takes to keep him from finding them.

Even marrying him.

Happy @feysandmonth (but really LB appreciation month!) My only multi-chaptered offering.

Read more on AO3

“Someone’s on the horizon.”

Feyre Archeron looked up from her chair at the far end of the tower she lived in. Her sister, Elain, sat on the open window ledge, head resting against the slate gray stone. Her lips were tinged blue from the cold, not that Elain seemed to care. She merely tugged the threadbare blanket tighter around her shoulders, brown eyes never leaving the horizon.

Nesta leaned up from the fire she was keeping alive, her eyes pinched at the corners. They had been out of everything for months and it showed. Feyre could see her eldest sister's collar bone jutting from beneath a dress that had once fit her like a glove—it now hung like a sack over her too-thin frame.

Endless war had convinced their father to hide them away, terrified his enemy to the east would one day try and steal one of his daughters. It was supposed to be temporary—he’d promised six months or less. Feyre’s eyes slid towards the wall where Nesta kept count. Eighteen months had passed without a word and their supplies had run out well before then.

“Who is it?” Nesta asked, running her tongue over chapped, broken lips. Elain shrugged fragile shoulders. She, too, was suffering from starvation. All three of them were. “Is it father?”

“I can’t tell,” Elain admitted, squinting against the glow of sunset. “Who else would know where we are?”

Feyre and Nesta’s eyes met. He hadn’t come in so long they’d just assumed he’d forgotten—or worse. Sometimes at night, Feyre wondered if he hadn’t left them here to die. It was no secret that General Graysen Nolan was his preferred heir and that one of them would be married to him eventually. It would only ever make Graysen king consort, which irked the male-centric court of the north. Men had ruled in an unbroken line for centuries.

And then Nesta had been born.

Followed by Elain.

And then Feyre.

There might have been more–more daughters for their father to ignore, to abandon in the too-small tower, had their mother not died. Even a new wife couldn’t usurp Nesta as heir to the throne, and so laws were squabbled over, abandoned when King Rhysand of Velaris attacked their border, drawing her father's attention to the military.

They’d all been spared political marriages, ones that would surely grind them all into dust. None more so than beautiful, docile Elain. Feyre suspected she’d be given to Graysen and Nesta wholly disinherited. She’d overheard her father's council of advisors suggesting Nesta be sent to a temple far in the mountains where she would remain unmarried, a devotee to the gods. And Elain, who was easier to control, who was sweet and lovely and uninterested in ruling, could take Nesta’s place and Graysen rule through her.

Until she birthed him a son.

After all, women died in childbirth all the time. It was such a strange thing, to hear these men hope that her sister might die bringing a male child into the world, so they wouldn’t be forced to serve beneath a lowly woman. Feyre knew Nesta would be far kinder to their people than Graysen ever would be—and Elain would do as she was told.

“Is it father?” Elain’s voice cut through Feyre’s guilty thoughts. She didn’t equate to any of his plans. His forgotten youngest child, she knew he’d offer her up to some noble in exchange for riches or military might.

All at once, the three of them scrambled upwards. They were supposed to be locked in, unable to get out. Once they’d realized he wasn’t coming back, the three had set to work. Elain, sitting at the highest point of that massive tower, had made nice with a local fisherman’s son. He sent up fishing line and hooks when she told him she needed it for mending, along with the occasional fish and bread.

That hook and string had helped them get the latch to the bottom door opened. Nesta collected firewood and Feyre hunted small game for them to eat. It was never enough, especially now that they were in the brutal season of winter. The fishermen were gone and so were most of the creatures Feyre meticulously hunted. They hadn’t eaten in days and Feyre was starting to get desperate.

Starting to think they should steal one of the boats left behind and take their chances in the frigid water.

They hid everything they shouldn’t have, rearranging the tower so it looked exactly as it had when they’d first been locked inside. Elain straightened the navy rug on the floor while Nesta remade the bed and Feyre hid her little weapons behind a stack of lumpy pillows.

Elain slammed the shutters of the tower closed and grabbed her knitting needles. Nesta picked up a book and Feyre…Feyre merely stood there. She’d run out of paint long ago, just as Elain had run out of yarn and Nesta had read the book many times over.

It didn’t matter. They heard the grunting of whatever soldiers were yanking open that heavy iron door, followed by the sound of clanking chainmail and heavy boots on the winding stairs. None of them dared to look at each other, jumping when a pounding fist banged against the trap door.

“Girls?”

It was their father, just as Elain had said. Feyre came forward, her body heavy with exhaustion. She pulled back the rug Nesta had just arranged, yanking the iron ring with her limited strength.

Their father's head, adorned with a heavy iron circlet, appeared next. Hatred burned in Feyre’s gut at the sight of his full cheeks, of his glowing health. He certainly hadn’t suffered that last year and half. He climbed the rest of the way up, drinking the sight of them.

“There you are,” he murmured with relief. As if there was any doubt that they’d still be here. He looked from her to Nesta before his eyes fell fully on Elain. Feyre’s stomach knotted, nervous though she couldn’t explain why.

“Have you come to bring us home?” Nesta asked hopefully. Feyre, too, wanted to leave. The tower was perpetually freezing and they were hungry and exhausted. The fortress they’d grown up in wasn’t much better and yet they were at least well fed and warm bottles were placed beneath their bedding to keep them warm at night.

“Soon,” he murmured, not looking at Nesta at all. His eyes were still fixed on Elain, a frown ghosting his features. They looked so similar, though, on their father, those rich, brown eyes seemed soulless whereas on Elain, they were filled with warmth. Starvation couldn’t dim Elain’s beauty, though her once bouncy curls hung limp down her back and her heart-shaped face was thin and drawn. Elain, too, could have used some sleep.

“I will return for the three of you in a week's time. We are so close to beating the east back into those empty mountains.”

As if any of them cared. Nesta’s eyes sharpened. “We are out of food.”

Their father didn’t flinch. “You have enough for one last week.”

“And then what?” Feyre asked, cutting Nesta off before she angered him.

“Nesta will go to the priestess's temple at Sangravah and Elain will marry Graysen—”

Elain rose to her feet. “What?”

“Feyre will stay with me for the time being,” he added, ignoring Elain entirely.

“A priestesses temple?” Nesta demanded. It was all as Feyre had once heard. He’d decided it, then. Decided to sideline Nesta and hope Elain would be the easier-controlled ruler. Or worse, that she would die before him, giving Ellesmere the son he’d denied them. Elain didn’t respond at all, though her face was so pale it might have been bone. Graysen was not known for being kind or gentle. He would use Elain until she was nothing but a corpse, and her sister knew it.

“It’s been decided,” their father snapped.

“By who?” Feyre dared to ask. She could have reached for her bone knife beneath the pillow and tried to bury it in his neck…but he was her father.

And he had a broad sword hanging from his hips.

“By me,” he told them. Nesta scoffed while Elain said nothing, her eyes glazed over as she imagined this new future. “And you will do as I tell you or you will suffer my wrath.”

“We are already suffering,” Nesta informed him, her hatred burning in her eyes. Of the three of them, she looked the most like mother. Perhaps that was why he disliked her the most—he couldn’t look at Nesta’s silvery blue eyes and her golden brown hair braided atop her head like a crown and not see his once beautiful wife staring back at him.

Banishing her to a temple was like exorcizing a ghost.

“What’s a little more, then?” he all but whispered. Daring her to disobey him. Nesta couldn’t pick this fight. Not when her skin all but clung to her bones and not when he could have driven his blade through her chest with no repercussions at all. Feyre dropped into a chair, more exhausted than she’d ever been and Nesta followed suit.

To their father, who didn’t imagine they had any thoughts he did not permit them to have, it was an act of submission.

“It was good to see the three of you in good health,” he said, walking to Elain and brushing his fingers over her cheeks. Elain closed her eyes, clearly trying to keep herself from bursting into tears.

Feyre scoffed but said nothing else.

“Just a week, and then it's over,” he told them. As if it would ever be over. A new hell was waiting just over the horizon and Feyre had no intention of meeting it. She wouldn’t be separated from her sisters, either. She wouldn’t leave Nesta to die in a temple and Elain to perish in a marriage bed.

They waited until their father descended back down the stairs and that iron door slammed shut so hard it rattled the stones around them. They held silent and still, listening to the gallop of hooves and the accompanying silence as the sun finally set.

Elain broke first, drawing her knees up to her face with a soft sob. Nesta rose to her feet, pacing the floor, her hands outstretched before the fire.

“We’ll take the boat,” Feyre whispered. “We’ll take the boat and go south. They say their king grants asylum to those that make it to his shore. We can hide there for a time and make our way across the ocean.”

“We won’t survive,” Nesta said, her voice devoid of its usual emotion.

“I can spend the next two days hunting,” Feyre insisted. “We can scavenge for anything the fishermen left behind.”

Nesta shook her head but Elain looked up, wiping her eyes on her sleeves. “What does it matter, Nesta? We either die at sea or we die at his hands. Either way…” her voice broke with a sob. “I don’t want to be married to him.”

“It would be a terrible way to die,” Nesta said, though Feyre wasn’t sure if she meant death by their father's design or death at sea. Feyre was willing to take her chances, though. They could bundle, they could take water and food, and any other supplies in the covered ship that had been left behind. They’d be as protected from the elements within it as they were in the tower, and could fish if they ran low on supplies.

“It’s better than doing nothing,” Feyre replied.

Elain and Feyre waited. Nesta was always allowed the final say, their deference out of respect for the sister they’d always hoped would one day be queen. Those dreams were dead—they would live in exile or they wouldn’t live at all.

Two days—that was all Feyre was willing to risk. While she hunted, Nesta and Elain gathered supplies for the boat. Elain cleaned it during the day and Nesta organized until the three fell into bed each night bone weary and exhausted. They barely ate, trying so hard to preserve their rations for when they were out at sea and would have no other recourse.

Feyre went to bed that night feeling the smallest flames of hope. Hope that they’d make it to the southern border before their father realized what they’d done. That Helion, the king of that realm, didn’t decide to ransom them back. And most importantly, they managed to make it over the sea where they might live free lives for the first time since they were born. Unshackled by the chains of their father, or the monarchy, of the unfair expectations placed on women. Elain could choose her own husband and Nesta and Feyre their own fates.

The sound of someone pounding on the iron door of the tower dragged the three of them from a drowsy sleep. Their father had a key and the girls their own makeshift one—whoever was below was an interloper.

Elain flew from the bed, pushing open the shutters to blink into the dark.

“The east,” she whispered. “Rhysand.”

“How–”

“He followed father,” Nesta hissed. “He led them right to us.”

Feyre blinked as Elain wrapped a cloak around her shoulders and tossed the rope down the side. “We go now,” she hissed. “Before he makes it up here and slaughters us all.”

Feyre nodded, though in her heart, she knew she wasn’t going with them. Everyone was on their boat and ready to go. All Nesta and Elain had to do was pull the anchor and set out. Rhysand would follow them—would merely drag them back where they’d be imprisoned or worse. Someone had to slow him down.

Had to distract him.

“Go,” Feyre whispered, reaching for her own cloak and her bone knife. She pressed the knife into Nesta’s hand, pretending she was getting her quiver of arrows as Elain propelled down the side. “I’m right behind you.”

The door wrenched open just beneath.

“Hurry up,” Nesta hissed. Feyre knew if either of her sisters had any inclination of her split-second decision, they would have stayed, too. The point was to go together or not at all. Rhysand was cruel—evil and terrible. He’d lock them in a frigid dungeon, would ransom them back for land and coins and whatever soldiers their father had taken prisoner. There were rumors he stole women from the bordering villages and passed them out to his own men to use as they liked. Nesta and Elain didn’t deserve that.

She thought, perhaps foolishly, that she could withstand it.

Heavy boots on the stairs drew her attention to the trap door. Nesta was gone, halfway down the tower even as the trapdoor beneath the rug rattled. She wasn’t going to help him open it. Fingers clenched to fists, Feyre pressed her back against the wall and waited for what would happen next.

The wood trap door exploded violently, splintering over the once carefully kept room. Feyre pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. The man who appeared was nothing like Feyre imagined Rhysand to be. She’d always pictured someone her father's age, someone who would look like the nightmare she’d been made to be afraid of.

Rhysand was young—early thirties at best. His dark hair seemed to gobble up the little light emanating from the fireplace as his violet-blue eyes swept over the room. They landed on her, crinkling at the edges when he realized it was just her. He looked like a warrior in his dark leather, a massive sword strapped against his spine. She tried to make herself smaller as he took a step towards her.

“Where are the other two?”

“Dead,” she lied as another man appeared. They could have been brothers—they shared the same warm brown skin, the same inky black hair. This man was perhaps lovelier in a classical sort of way, and far colder, if the stone cut of his face was any indication.

“Cassian!” Rhysand, betrayed by the silver crown of stars around his head, bellowed down the stairs. His eyes were on the rope hanging from the window. “Bring me the other two!”

“RUN!” Feyre screamed out that window. Rhysand lunged for her, strong arms wrapping over her too-thin frame. She didn’t have the strength to fight him though the gods knew she tried. Feyre thrashed as his broad hand clapped over her mouth.

“So much for dead, huh?” Rhysand whispered against her neck. Feyre twisted, her foot kicking hard between his legs. He grunted but didn’t release her. “You look close to it already.”

He and the other man dragged her kicking and silently screaming down those stairs. Feyre endeavored to make it as difficult as possible, if only to buy Elain and Nesta more time.

It worked. By the time she was beneath that violet sky of stars, a third man was striding towards them. He was the biggest by far, tall and broad and terrifyingly imposing. A crisscross of swords over his shoulders made him seem more lethal than the other two men, though when he stepped into a beam of moonlight, she thought he had the friendliest face.

“They took a ship,” he said, amusement lacing his words.

Rhysand pushed Feyre into the colder man so he could bind her wrists.

“Track them down. I can’t risk Archeron finding them first.”

Feyre kept her mouth shut. Her sisters had escaped Rhysand—they’d escape their father, too. Cassian—that’s what Rhysand had called him—looked her over, offered a smile that didn’t seem too threatening, and then turned to vanish back into the gloom.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked him, her wrists bound in front of her body. Rhysand turned back to her, eyes sliding up and down her body. It wasn’t predatory or appreciative. In fact, he seemed almost disturbed by what he saw.

“How long have you been here?”

silver-edgedFeyre lifted her chin defiantly. She didn’t have to answer that. He didn’t care, either. Rhysand dragged her over the barren, frozen ground towards a midnight black stallion and hoisted her into a silver edged saddle with ease. He swung up just behind her.

“Would you like me to help Cassian?” the other man asked softly, his voice as dark as the night around them.

“I’ll need you,” Rhysand disagreed. “Cassian can handle two unarmed women.”

He nodded. Absolute obedience, just like Graysen ordered their father. Rhysand lowered his head until she could feel his breath on the back of her neck again. “Cassian will find them.”

“And then what? You’ll kill us as a family?” she asked him, twisting back so he could see she wasn’t afraid of him. It was a lie, of course. Feyre was terrified.

He didn’t need to know that.

Rhysand’s smile was cold—cruel. “Your father has something of mine. Now I have something of his.”

“Good luck getting it back,” Feyre retorted.

Rhysand only laughed.

It was a miserable night of riding. Feyre, half-starved and exhausted well before she was ever put in that saddle. By the time dawn broke, Feyre was miserably sore and hungrier than she’d ever been in her life. Her ribs ached, her thighs burned, and her head pounded. She was too focused on keeping herself upright to even think of her sisters, out on the icy sea all alone while a terrifying warrior tracked them down.

All she could think about was the constant twisting of her gut. As snow-capped mountains loomed, Feyre felt her vision slipping sideways. She blinked, trying to right the world, but once her lids clamped shut, there was no opening them. She heard a soft swear and realized she had tipped out of the saddle and Rhysand had been forced to catch her or potentially let her die.

She almost wished he had. Surely death on a mountain road was better than whatever he had in store for her. Still, Feyre was too exhausted to fight him when his thighs tightened around her and his arm became a steel lock around her middle. She didn’t stop herself from leaning into his solid strength, nor did she care when her neck inclined at a near awkward angle, bouncing off his shoulder each time the horse jolted.

She slipped in and out of sleep, roused when he’d grab her with a surprising amount of gentleness just beneath her jaw and demand she take a drink. At some point, she thought a blanket was draped over her body, though when she managed to pry open an eye, she realized he’d merely covered them both in his cloak.

“Will you walk? Or am I going to have to carry you into my palace?” Rhysand asked her, pulling Feyre from a rather strange, brightly colored dream.

“Go to hell,” she whispered, forgetting almost immediately what he’d even asked. It seemed like an appropriate response to anything and everything he might ask.

“I think she’s half dead,” another man’s voice murmured and Feyre swore he said those words with pure amusement. “Archeron beat you to it.”

“Shut up,” Rhysand grumbled. Feyre didn’t stay awake to hear the rest. For an unknown period of time, Feyre was lost to pure nothingness. Just bliss—utter, dreamless bliss. She could have died happy and, if she was honest, almost wished she had.

Coming back was hell. Feyre twisted against the tethers that kept her trapped in darkness, desperate to resurface. She needed to know where she was—what had happened to her sisters. And when Feyre managed to pry an eye open, she expected to find herself lying on the hard, stone floor of a damp, cold dungeon.

She was in a bed. In a room at least twice as big as the one she had at home. Bigger than the whole tower. Feyre was propped against a mountain of pillows and tucked beneath a sea of black and silver blankets. Curtains were tied from tall, wooden bed posts which made her feel, strangely, like a princess.

“You are a princess,” she whispered to no one in particular. In name only. Her filthy hair hanging in strings around her face and itching scalp told a wholly different story. Feyre pushed from the bed, strangely embarrassed to be in it at all. Her bare feet touched a plush, cream carpet that stretched the length of the bed against dark wood floors.

A fire crackled merrily in a large hearth across the room, keeping Feyre warm even after she left her blankets. She padded for the jutting, rounded windows that were curtained in more glittering silver. Pulling them aside, Feyre clapped a hand over her mouth. An ocean of icy snow blanketed the world around her, broken only by the rising mountainside she was currently trapped in.

That would make escape trickery, though not impossible. Feyre was used to the cold, the dark. If he thought to disorient her with the nice, furnished room, he didn’t know her at all.

Ignoring the bathroom, with a tub big enough to be a pool and a wall of glass that let her stare out into the snowy expanse, Feyre marched the curved, double doors gilded in more silver. He clearly had a color scheme, if nothing else. He also hadn’t locked her in. Feyre stepped into an empty hall, painted a soft lavender and trimmed in cream. No servants, no guards. Like she was no threat to him at all.

That infuriated Feyre. She marched down the hall, forgetting she hadn’t eaten in days—months, even, given the sparseness of what was available to them. She hadn’t passed out from fear, but from exhaustion and hunger. Her anger quickly evaporated into fear as blinding white spots bloomed behind her vision. Feyre reached for the wall, holding herself steady while her knees trembled violently.

“No, no, no,” Feyre moaned, her legs giving way beneath her. She clutched for the wall, looking for any purchase to keep her steady, but there was none. Only the tilting world and the brief flash of pain when her head bounced off the floor.

And then darkness again.

She came back the second time fighting. Feyre shot upwards, the heavy blanket of her bed pooling in her lap as she gasped for air. A tray of food was set on her night table and Rhysand himself sat in a chair by the window. He seemed irritated if the set of his jaw was any indication. She supposed he had better things to do than babysit her.

When she woke, he turned his head until those violet eyes were firmly on her. He cocked his head, causing a lock of his inky black hair to flop against the middle of his forehead. He was the picture of casual elegance. Bored, yet graceful, nobility. They didn’t have his type in Ellesmere–slick, polished, and arrogant.

“Good evening,” he offered, his voice rough. Feyre didn’t respond, though she did pull her knees to her chest. He watched the whole thing, no hint of his thoughts betrayed in his expression.

“You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He didn’t smile. “Sure. I suppose you like it when I carry you down the halls like an underfed corpse?”

Feyre felt embarrassment rise through her chest. “Who asked for your help?”

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on powerful thighs. Feyre very much doubted he had ever missed a meal. She swallowed, hiding her hands beneath the blanket so he wouldn’t see how they trembled.

“Maybe you should ask it, darling. If this is how your own father treats you, maybe whatever I have in store would be a kinder fate.”

She all but spat at him. Hatred bloomed in her chest knowing whatever fate he had planned likely involved her eventual death. The deaths of her sisters, her home, and everything she’d ever cared about.

“How long do you plan to keep me captive?” she asked instead, pointedly ignoring what he’d told her.

Rhysand leaned backward, shrugging his broad shoulders. Clad in a tunic of black and silver that cut just beneath his jaw, he seemed strangely casual to her. No cape, no rings, no crown. Not even a circlet graced his forehead.

“You’re hardly captive. More like my guest.”

“If I’m your guest, that means I can leave–”

“Feyre,” he interrupted patiently, “darling. You can barely walk down the hall. Where do you imagine you’re going?”

“Away from you,” she hissed, well aware she sounded like a petulant child. The curved smirk gracing his face told her he agreed with her silent assessment.

“Well,” he murmured, rising to his feet. She’d forgotten how imposing he was. Even without the leathered armor and the sword, he cut an imposing figure. “Maybe you should eat some dinner, first. It’s no fun to best you on a technicality.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded, certain he was making fun of her. Warily, Feyre waited for Rhysand to respond. To mock her, as the courtiers back home always had.

“Are you not the Huntress of the North?”

She hated him for his use of that nickname. It had only ever been sneered at her, her bow and arrows the endless source of amusement for the men in her father's palace. A princess who wielded a weapon was practically sacrilege. That she was any good? Well, they found ways to keep her in place.”

Feyre jutted her chin, determined he would not make her feel any smaller. “Yes. That is exactly what I am.”

There was no hint of mockery in his gaze. “Then eat.”

He strode from the room without looking back to see if she obeyed him. It was only after he left that she realized night had fallen, hidden as it was behind the semi-sheer curtains. How long had he sat there, waiting? It made her uneasy, to be so helpless in front of him.

And the thought of passing out, at being left at his mercy and hoping he’d be kind was enough to motivate Feyre into eating. She swallowed her guilt, hoping her sisters were safe and, if nothing else, not starving too terribly before she pulled apart a roll of bread. Steam curled around her face and Feyre nearly moaned at the sight. It had been a long time since she’d had anything hot. She tried so hard to go slow, so she wouldn’t be sick, but the vegetables were seasoned with spices she’d never tasted, and the meat and potatoes covered in a rich gravy that had her all but licking the plate.

She could have kept going. She was tempted, even, to climb out of bed, find the kitchen, and ask for more. Instead, Feyre climbed out of bed, legs still shaky, and made her way to the bathtub.

Bastard as he was, Rhysand was right about one thing.

She’d never escape him in her current condition.

Feyre very much intended to escape.

Just as soon as she killed him.

Feyre spent a whole week minding her own business. The decision had been more practical than anything–every time she stepped into the hall, a wave of dizziness sent her practically running back for the bedroom. She would be damned if Rhysand put his filthy hands on her again. Feyre’s pride wouldn’t let her be caught in a compromising position by her enemy, which in turn ensured she ate every meal that was brought to her. The first few days had seen her all but living in the bathroom while she adjusted, gulping water from the tap when she felt feverish. She slept, she ate, she bathed, and did little else.

She felt like a traitor. Her dreams were consumed by her sisters—were they safe?

Were they alive?

She had no doubt if Rhysand had managed to find them, he would have paraded them about like his trophies like he’d no doubt done with her. The thought offered the faintest amount of relief. Only she was here.

Whoever left the trays just outside her door didn’t seem to know who, exactly she was. Or maybe they didn’t view her as a threat. Either way, she’d been provided a steak knife each night, and Feyre had begun to collect them. The silver alone would be enough to fund part of her journey, and the sharpened point sliced easily over her pointer finger. It would do well enough against anyone who put the fleshy parts of their skin too close to her body.

Feyre woke to an actual servant the dawning of that second week.

“The king requests you dine with him,” an elderly, no nonsense woman declared. As if that were the end of things. Feyre knew, from growing up around her own father, that the king's word was law. She didn’t obey him, though. He wasn’t her master.

“And if I say no?” Feyre asked in her brattiest tone.

An arched brow was the only expression she got. “I hear a palette of straw is far less comfortable than a bed made of goose down.”

She hated that woman, with her severe gray bun and her unsmiling eyes. Still, Feyre begrudgingly got into the tub and submitted to her all the same. She allowed herself to be dressed in an, admittedly, a pretty amethyst gown made of gossamer silk. She said nothing while her hair was curled and pushed off her face with a pearl-lined headband, or when thin, silver earrings were looped into her ears so it looked as if delicate trails of starlight clung to her skin. Her eyes were coated and lined until they looked bigger—more pronounced. Her lips were made softer and painted the most delicate shade of pink.

It all irritated her. Like she was a doll for dress up, like her too-thin, sharp appearance was solely for his pleasure. “Is this what your king likes?”

“Hardly,” that servant snapped. Speaking to her like that in her own home would have gotten someone killed–not that Feyre would have tattled. Still, the sharpness took her aback.

“Then why–”

“You have a problem looking nice?”

Truthfully, Feyre had no problem looking nice. Her problem was the way she felt as if she were little more than a pretty object. She didn’t want to look nice in Rhysand’s kingdom, at a breakfast he almost certainly would also be attending. He’d see her and approve of her, which was the opposite of what she wanted.

Feyre marched down the halls, and for the first time since she’d arrived, there was no danger she’d fall flat on her face. The hall led into a larger atrium, with a winding staircase that led both upwards and back down into the palace. Feyre tried to memorize her path, but the steps leading down only directed her into another branching hall of the same cream and lavender and arching doors lined in silver pulled tightly shut.

She’d expected a large dining hall filled with people. That’s how Feyre had always eaten. A dozen eyes were always on her, listening for any morsel of gossip they could run to her father with. When the doors were opened for it, Feyre found an intimate scene. A table for five people, perhaps, but no more. Round, with only two chairs decently separated and covered in a selection of food she could directly spoon onto a silver plate herself.

Rhysand, too, waited with his usual boredom. He was framed by a line of windows frosted over from the cold. Same black tunic and pants, to the point Feyre wondered if he owned any variations to that outfit. He had taken no food, and stood when she entered. He nodded to the servant just behind, which apparently signaled to close the doors. Feyre was trapped in the chamber with him.

“Sit,” he said, gesturing towards her chair. Feyre hesitated, her slippered feet sliding against the wood just beneath. It was the wafting scent of chocolate that sent Feyre to her seat. She hadn’t had anything sweet in so long, a terrible curse for someone who liked sweets as much as she did.

“Eat,” he ordered once she was in her chair. Feyre tried her best to ignore him, scooping eggs and fruit, and cheese onto a plate. She took sausage and bread before she realized the scent of chocolate was coming from a silver pot. Hot chocolate.

His mouth twitched, watching her pour it into her porcelain cup. Feyre took a sip, trying to suppress the moan that rose in her chest. She didn't succeed and in response, his eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Are you always so adaptable?” he asked, only serving himself when she was finished. Feyre didn’t offer him a response, too busy shoveling food in her mouth. It was, as it always was, perfect. His manners were more refined, reminding her that the time she’d spent in that tower had made her wilder than before.

The silence stretched between them. It seemed unbearable for him, because Rhysand set his fork back to the table, eyes pinned on her. “Why were you in that tower?”

“Who were you expecting to find?” she sneered. Rhysand raised those dark, immaculately groomed brows and she realized belatedly he’d never meant to run into her. Who had he been looking for, then? Clearly, when the opportunity presented itself he hadn’t been able to resist and still…Feyre wanted to know.

“Answer my question.”

“We were there because of you,” she whispered, gripping the knife just beside her plate so tightly the whites of her knuckles were exposed.

If he felt guilt, he didn’t betray it. “How fortunate, then.”

She was going to stab him. If she stood, Feyre could bury the blade in his neck before he could react. “Fortunate? Did you find my sisters?”

Another casual shrug. “Cassian hasn’t returned.”

“Maybe he’s dead,” she hissed. Rhysand smiled.

“Maybe,” he agreed, his tone suggesting he did not agree. “Can I ask, darling, why I was the cause of such a slow, terrible death for you? Why not behead his daughters and be done with it?” Feyre’s heart pounded in her throat as she rose, her plate half untouched. He was fixated on her face, unaware she still had the handle of that knife fisted in her fingers.

“Our suffering amuses you?”

“Confuses me. If your father sent you to that tower to die–”

“To protect us!” Feyre interrupted, certain he couldn’t be that stupid. “To keep you from harming us!”

He reclined in his chair as she moved towards him, her knife hidden in the flouncy material of her skirt.

“You believe that?”

“Who were you looking for? What did he take of yours?” she asked sharply, halting just in front of him. Part of her was desperate for any information, even if it came from his lips. She had never once been granted any she hadn’t stolen, and even then Feyre couldn’t be certain it was true or not.

He assessed her. “Why would I tell someone hoping to kill me anything?”

“You’re stupid?” she guessed, inching closer.

“I’ll trade you, darling. I’ll answer any question you have if you give me the knife in your hand.”

Feyre hesitated. “Do you swear?”

Rhysand nodded, that lock of dark hair falling against his forehead again. Pressing a golden hand to his heart, he said, “I swear it.”

Quick as a viper, Feyre lunged. Rhysand shouted, unprepared to have the blade of her knife buried in the back of his hand. She’d stabbed with all her pent up fury, all but pinning him to the table by the point of the serrated blade.

His face was altogether too close when she turned to look at him, those violet eyes blazing with some unreadable emotion. “You never said how I had to return it.”

Blood dripped onto the wood as Rhysand used his other, unwounded hand to pull the knife out of his hand. She waited for him to go back on his promise, to call her names or punish her—all of which she deserved. Feyre straightened.

Bracing herself.

“I want Nolan,” Rhysand gritted out, unfolding a napkin to press against his hand. “Finding you was merely good luck. I can trade you for the General. As for what he has that belongs to me, well...” he raised his hand, as if to show her why he wouldn't be divulging that bit of information.

Feyre laughed. “You could trade Elain for Graysen. Maybe. But me? You might as well kill me right here, right now.”

“I won’t be doing that,” he hissed, holding the napkin against his wounded hand. He didn’t move from his chair, though she expected him to. He merely sat there, his napkin blooming the same red that was still puddled just beside his plate.

“Then what–”

“You will live here until you die,” he interrupted snappishly. Their gazes held and for a moment, Feyre felt as though his eyes had tied a string between them, immobilizing her entirely. She’d forgotten, for a moment, a bloodstained knife had punctured his hand and that she’d been the one who’d done it. Standing over him was wild–intoxicating.

He blinked and the spell was shattered.

“Let me go,” she breathed, swallowing hard. He crossed his ankle over his knee, one foot bouncing anxiously. “I’ll tell you anything–”

“You know nothing,” he dismissed, eyes cutting towards the door. “Another of your foolish bargains.”

“You can’t keep me here,” she insisted, turning her back to him. Feyre made a show of lifting her skirts, of stepping around the droplets of blood, all the while Rhysand watched.

“You would be surprised at what I could do. What I might do, if provoked.”

She looked over her shoulder to his wounded hand, bound in that napkin and held for her perusal. There was a darkness to his gaze that should have unsettled her. Feyre thought she could have counted the constellation of stars within it—a dangerous thought, given who he was. It struck her only then that he was handsome. Too handsome.

Beautiful. Certainly, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her entire life. She’d been so consumed with hating him, with survival, to pay him any attention before. Now, though, as her adrenaline ebbed into fear, she saw him for what he was. Just for a moment—lovely.

She stamped that thought deep, deep down.

“Hardly a punishment, keeping me in finery,” she taunted, swishing her pretty dress around her to emphasize her point. It was then that he stood, and Feyre so badly wished he hadn’t. She stopped her teasing, her body flooded with cold at the sight of him.

“No. You’re rather pretty, dressed in my things,” he began, holding his hand against his chest as he surveyed her. “I wonder how much prettier you’d be in my bed chamber–”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed, her heart thudding in her throat.

“How even lovelier still, in my lap, on my throne—” “Stop it,” she half pleaded, half ordered. He raised a brow.

“Oh? Commanding me, are you? There’s only one person allowed to make such demands of me,” he said, stepping closer and closer until her back was pressed against the wall. Rhysand didn’t back down, his thigh sliding between her legs to pin her between them. Feyre couldn’t control her rapid breathing, hating how close he was.

How good he smelled.

“Ask me who,” he said. She shook her head no, unable to look away.

“I’ll tell you,” he continued, his tone far too heavy. “The only person who can give me a command is my wife–”

She slapped him, sending him stumbling back a step. He needed to learn what would happen if he invaded her space. “Under no circumstances would I marry you,” she hissed, slipping around him for the door. She’d just pulled it open, had all but begun running down the hall, when he called after her.

“Not to save your home? To end this war? To keep your sisters from being traded back to your father so I can hang one man?”

Feyre whipped back around, terrified of the intensity on his face. “I can’t trust you.” “I would shield them,” he all but whispered. He looked crazy, his shirt bloodied, his hand wounded. His face, was slightly ashen from how she’d hurt him and still decisive. “And you.” “How can you protect me when my greatest enemy stands four feet from me?!” she shrieked. He arched a brow, as if to call her statement into question.

“None of this would have happened had you not intervened!”

“There are things you don’t understand,” he protested, but Feyre took a step through the doorway, out into the hall.

“I won’t.”

“You will,” he replied, holding her again until his gaze tied a ribbon around her very soul. She shook her head, just to prove she could still move her body independent of him.

“I’ll kill you first.”

He laughed, then.

“You may do whatever you like to me, darling.”

Everything they’d ever said about him was true. Feyre thought that as she turned her back to him, her body far warmer than she’d ever admit. Feyre knew two things with absolute certainty.

One, if she didn’t manage to escape and soon, she’d never be free of him.

And two—Rhysand wasn’t going to let her go. Not to her father. Not to the world.

Maybe not ever.

#feysand #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #is it enemies to lovers if hes ready to marry her the minute she stabs him?#you decide

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george-weasleys-girl · 9 months

Text

North Star Series

Chapter 37 - The Gathering Storm

Start here:

Summary: The war intensifies. Fred makes a surprising decision.

Warnings: mentions of people going missing

~•~

The Burrow was a place of chatter, of laughter, of the tinkling of glasses and the clatter of dinnerware.

Of joy.

But tonight, it lay in silence. A sense of dread twisted in the pit of Y/N's gut, and she reached for George's hand at the same time he reached for hers.

Familiar, safe, warm.

It was difficult to believe that less than a week ago, the two of them had walked down Diagon Alley with barely a care in the world.

~•~

At first, it began as most rumors do. Whispers on the wind, stories of people disappearing that not even friends of friends of friends knew. A few missing person posters appeared on Diagon Alley. Still, it was no one anyone knew. Then an old school mate of Bill's went missing.

Followed by someone else they knew.

And then another.

And another.

They could no longer pretend that it could never happen to them.

The war had become real. It'd become personal.

~•~

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "We're not here tonight to talk about plans or strategies. We're here because any one of us could be next."

"Those of us who lived through the first war saw this coming when the first missing people were confirmed a few weeks ago," Alaister Moody elaborated. "What we didn't expect was how quickly it would escalate."

"It didn't happen like this the first time," Lupin added. "It wasn't until the last few months of the war that they were kidnapping people at this rate."

"They're being proactive this time," George commented.

Lupin nodded. "Seems to be the case."

"So, what happens now?" Y/N asked.

"We're going to be proactive too," Arthur said.

"More like reactive," Moody grumbled. "Just like the first time, only sooner."

Mr. Weasley cut his eyes over to him but continued on undeterred. "From this point forward, we don't want anyone going anywhere alone. This includes apparating and using the floo system. You never know what you might be walking into."

"Last I checked," Fred spoke. "They're grabbing people off the streets, not kidnapping them from their homes."

"Yet," Lupin said. "But it's only a matter of time."

~•~

One week later

Y/N and George apparated back to the apartment after dinner at The Leaky Cauldron to find a quiet and sullen Fred sitting on the sofa.

"Hey mate," George said. "Didn't expect you back til tomorrow."

"I'm not interrupting your plans, am I?" He mumbled.

George and Y/N shared a look. "Of course not," Y/N said.

"Everything ok, Freddie?" George asked.

Fred took a swig of firewhiskey. And it was only then that they realized he'd downed half the new bottle they purchased yesterday.

"I broke up with Angie."

"What??" George and Y/N stared down at the older twin, who still refused to look at either of them.

"Why?" Y/N sat down on his right while George took the left. "What happened?"

Fred shrugged. "Nothing. She's just better off."

George reached over and took the bottle from Fred's hands. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about me, the Order, the war!" He shouted, finally looking at his brother. "Everything." His voice grew softer as he stood and crossed to the window. "I don't want to put her at any more risk than she already is."

Memories of a similar conversation with George flitted through Y/N's mind. "What does Angie think about all this?" She asked.

"She's pissed," Fred sighed. "And upset."

'And rightfully so,' Y/N thought.

"Freddie, um," George began. "Maybe you should think about this before - "

"I have thought about," Fred cut in. "I've thought about it all week. If I'm a target, she is, too. The further away she is from me, the better."

"But - " George began again.

"No!" Fred cut him off again. "I know where you're going with this and it's not going to work. As soon as I told her about the Order's new rules, she stopped arguing." Fred flopped down onto the window seat. "Don't you get it? Angie can't live like that. She won't live like that. She's not going to give up her independence for anyone or anything."

George opened his mouth, then closed it again. Y/N reached out and touched his arm gently. "Should I go?" She mouthed.

He sighed, chewing on his lip for a moment, then slowly nodded his head.

"I think I'll leave the two of you to talk," she announced and gave George a quick kiss. "Good luck," she whispered, then hurried off to their bedroom.

~•~

Y/N was already asleep by the time George shuffled into the bedroom sometime around 2 am. Rather than immediately collapsing, as he normally would, he sat next to his unconscious girlfriend, marveling at how deeply she slept. Unlike him, who'd wake up at the slightest sound, the woman could sleep through anything. He'd once joked that he could set off a whole box of whizbangs in the bedroom, and the most she'd do would probably be to roll over.

After a few minutes, he rose and walked over to his dresser, and pulled out a small box from the top drawer. He opened it up and gazed at the contents within.

George had planned on giving it to Y/N once the war was over, but now, with the darkness closing in combined with Fred's relationship falling apart, a certain urgency rose up within him. He looked back at Y/N, who hadn't moved an inch before returning the box back to the drawer, his mum's words replaying in his head.

~•~

"It's all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and centre —"

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @peachesgaeass

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley fic #george weasley headcanon #george weasley x you #george weasley imagines

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powerfultenderness · 1 year

Text

Be Mine

Pairing: Reader (F)/Adrian Chase

Rated: Explicit 18+

Summary: When you tell Adrian that you’ve never had a Valentine before, he decides to give you the best Valentine’s Day ever!

Warnings: Dub-Con (drunken sex). RAPE/Non-Con (coerced sex).

Stalking/obsessive behavior.

breath play. knife play

Word Count: 13245

A/N: A super late Valentine’s Day fic.

I hate writing multi chapter fics, so here is what definitely should be multiple chapters as one long fic.

[Masterlist]

[[Meet Cute]]

Adrian smiled at you as he stood in line at a coffee shop with you and one of your friends. He’d much rather it just be the two of you, but the relationship was still new and the both of you were trying to figure out how to incorporate into each other's lives. Besides, he liked seeing you with your friends. It showed him just how similar the two of you were. Just like Peacemaker couldn’t function without him, your friends couldn’t function without you.

Your scoffed laughter drew him out of his thoughts as you responded to something your friend said.

“Psh! Noo. I’ve never had a Valentine before.”

“Wait. You mean you’ve never had a Valentine’s Day date?”

You shook your head and shrugged, turning away from him like you were embarrassed to be admitting this out loud. “Not a date. Or a single flower or a box of chocolates. The last Valentine's Day gift that I got was in elementary school, and you know, everyone had to pass out little cards to the whole class.”

“What? How?”

Adrian could understand why your friend was so flabbergasted. As far as he was concerned, you were amazing and it made no sense that someone wouldn’t want to be your Valentine.

You shrugged just as he opened his mouth to chime in and answered before he could say what he wanted to say.

“I dunno. You know how it is when a relationship is too new to do something on Valentine’s Day.” You tried to explain, but the more honest answer was that you really hadn’t been in many relationships, so you were always alone on what people dubbed to be the most romantic day of the year.

“Well, this year it’ll be different! I bet you’ll get enough gifts to make up for all those Valentine’s Days that you missed!”

“Yea, ok. Sure.” You shook your head. It was already the middle of January, a little late for that.

Adrian nodded and was once again cut off before he could say anything, this time by the cashier calling out the next person in line, which happened to be you.

As you placed your order, Adrian was suddenly hit with an idea. Your friend was right! Sure he hadn’t known you very long, but he was pretty sure he already loved you, so he was going to make sure you had the best Valentine’s Day ever!

(December 31st)

This was starting to remind him of the parties that Gut used to have at the house when their parents were away. Back then, Adrian, nearly a decade younger than Gut, didn’t realize his age was the reason why so many of Gut’s friends (and Gut himself!) shunned him. But now? Why were people giving him the same look now?

“Dude!” Peacemaker shook his head and rolled his eyes at Adrian, again.

“What? That’s funny!” Adrian defended himself, but the combined voices of his friends (the 11th Street Kids all came back to Evergreen for this party) told him to shut up. So he downed the rest of the beer and used the excuse of a refill to walk around.

This was some fancy venue that he otherwise would never get to see, so he might as well have a look around. He stopped by a large window overlooking a balcony. Cool! And no one was out there (no one wanted to be out in the cold, actually).

Adrian was an observant person. His vision might be shit, but he still saw more than most people. Like now. Past all the decorative fountains and hardy plants he saw a woman laying down on an easy to overlook bench.

And it was cold out. Very cold. And she wasn’t moving!

Without thinking he set his beer down and stepped out to the balcony, a rush of cold air sent a shiver through his body, but he ignored it as he hopped down. It was two stories up, but there were plenty of hand and footholds to make the climb down quick and easy.

As he got near to the bench he realized that she wasn’t dead or even unconscious. She was humming. Something he wasn’t familiar with, but he took it as a good sign anyways. “Hey, uh, lady, are you ok?”

You startled and craned your head to look at the stranger. What a cutie! Even at night you could see his big bright eyes, all round and curious, maybe he was concerned? Or maybe it was just his large framed glasses that made his eyes look so big. The lights from the party illuminated him from behind and his curly hair made him look almost angelic. It made you smile.

“Who are you?” You slurred out, and it became clear that it must have been a drunken decision to come out here without a coat.

“I’m Adrian. I just came out here to make sure you were ok.” He answered as he moved closer to the bench you were half laying down on.

“Oh.” Then you pointed to the sky. “I’mmm waitin’ for the ffirewurks!”

Adrian looked at the sky then back at you as you flopped back onto your side, your legs were hanging off the bench, so there was still room for him to sit down.

“It’s only eleven.” He told you as he leaned down to get a better look at you, to make sure you hadn’t just passed out on him.

“Then I won’t miss them!”

Well, you had a point.

“Aren’t you cold?”

You sat up again and owlishly blinked at him. “Uhmm…No. Maybe.”

Then you leaned down and grabbed a glass of champagne that was resting near your side of the bench. No wonder you weren’t cold, you probably couldn’t feel anything at all!

You took a sip from your glass and attempted, yet somehow missed, to wipe off the little bit of the bubbly liquid that dribbled down your chin. “I’m always cold. Because I’m anemic.” You let out a loud and annoyed sigh. “I knoooow! Don’t tell me! People always tell me: “eat more red meat!” But, ugh, I hate steak! It’s so gross and chewy and blegh!” You stuck your tongue out as you made a fake gagging sound.

“You could eat more spinach?”

“I do!” You threw your hands up, the last bit of liquid sloshing around in your glass. “I eat it everyday! But, like a normal person and not fucking Popeye! It’s not even bad anemia. I just get a little chilly. And sometimes dizzy.”

You finished off the last of your drink. “That could be the champers though.” You tried to carefully set the glass on the ground, but you wobbled as much as the empty glass as you tried to straighten up.

“Hey. Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’mm finnne!” You dropped your head back on the bench at an odd angle that made his neck hurt just looking at you.

“Here.” Adrian took off his jacket, he didn’t like it anyways, and held it out for you.

Even when you were drunk, you were polite enough to mumble out a thank you as you struggled with the large coat. Adrian ended up helping you a bit, until you started to giggle. You had a cute laugh. He smiled as he tilted his head slightly. “What are you laughing at?”

“Look! Your jacket is longer than my dress!”

You stood up to show him and he had to grab you by the arms to make sure you didn’t fall over. “See!” You were holding the jacket closed over your body, indeed making it look like it was the only thing you were wearing.

“Yea. Very funny. Why don’t you sit down again?”

“Ok.”

Adrian sat down with you, you were a much easier drunk to deal with than Peacemaker. It was especially hard to try to take care of Peacemaker when he was also drunk, so the way you were so pliable let him relax and enjoy himself too.

“Hey,” you slurred, grabbing his attention again.

“What?”

“What’s your name?”

“I already told you. I’m Adrian.”

You let out a quiet “oh,” as you giggled and gave him your name. “You’re nice. For giving me your jacket.”

“Thanks. My fifth best friend says I’m a good man.”

You once again giggled, this time at the way he smiled and raised his eyebrows as he mentioned being a good man. “Oh, that’s good! It’d be weird to be hanging out with a bad guy.”

“What do you count as a bad guy?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged, “if they’re like, a murderer or something?”

Adrian went stiff and wished he had another beer. “Well, what if someone only killed bad guys?”

“Oh shit!” You gasped and reached out to grip his arm. “You’re right!”

“I am?”

“Yea!” You nodded vigorously, swaying a bit, “like that vigilante!”

“Vigilante?”

“No!” You scrunched up your face and shook your head. “I mean Batman!”

“Batman doesn’t kill people.”

You gasped again and stared at him all wide eyed in shock. “He doesn’t?!”

“Nope.” He shook his head.

“Wha-What a ffuckin bitch!”

Adrian chuckled, “yea! Right! You know, Vigilante kills bad guys.”

You made another face, though Adrian wasn’t sure what it meant this time. “You mean Peacemaker’s sidekick? Does. Does he even count?”

Adrian jerked back and raised his hands in front of him and shook his head. “Whoa! Hey! Vigilante is not Peacemaker’s sidekick!”

“Uhm. Are you sure?”

“Yea! They work together sometimes, but that’s just because they’re best friends!”

You snorted out a laugh and shrugged. “If you say so.”

“I do! Who do you think took care of the bad guys while Peacemaker was in prison?”

“Psh. I dunno. The cops?”

Now Adrian found himself scrunching up his face. “You can’t be serious right now.”

He saw you smiling first, then your shoulders started to shake, before you let out a hearty laugh as you leaned into him, one hand gripping his thigh. “Noo!!! Hahahaha! The cops suck!”

You were already leaning into him, it just felt natural to wrap an arm around you as he laughed with you. “Yea, they do!”

You relaxed in his arms as your laughter faded and for a moment he thought you fell asleep. “Hey, you good?” He asked as he gently shook you.

You muttered something unintelligible, practically falling limp against him.

“Ok. Maybe you should drink some water.” He then shifted you in his arms and started to lay you back down on the bench, afraid that if he just let go you’d fall down and hit your head. “Stay here for a minute.”

As he gently cradled the back of your head and started to pull his hand back, you gasped and looked up at him, like you were just jolted awake. It was only then that he realized what it must have looked like, with him hovering over you so closely like that.

“Are you. Trying to kiss me?” You asked before he could assure you of his intentions.

He shook his head, “no!” But his eyes flickered down to your lips for just a second, because the thought was tempting.

By the time he looked back up at your eyes, you had a small smirk on your face. “Are you sure?”

“Ok. I want to, but-”

You pushed yourself up and attempted to kiss him. But he was faster and pulled away, your breath barely fanning against his lips and sending an exciting rush through his blood.

“You’re really drunk.” He finished with a wince.

You opened your eyes and smiled at him, softly reaching out to play with a strand of his hair. “Your friend was right.”

He didn’t pull away from your touch. The way you pushed some of his hair back and gently ran your hand down his face was nice. He wanted more. So much more. “What?”

You relaxed and laid back down, your hand dragging from his face down to the collar of his shirt, a black button down that Adebayo said looked good on him. You popped the top button (which was actually the second button as he’d left the first one undone) and grinned at him. Adrian’s breath caught in his throat as his hand gently caught your wrist to stop you from touching him even more.

“Your friend said you’re a good man.” You answered as your eyes drifted from his neck to his hand around your wrist, then back up to his face. “You’re really pretty.”

“I.” Adrian licked his lips, heart pounding loudly in his ears, and swallowed thickly. “You are too.”

Oh how he wished he wasn’t a good man! The way you were looking up at him made him just want to take you, devour you, to make you his. Instead he let go of your wrist. “I should get you some water.”

“Ok.”

He sat up and made sure you were safely centered on the bench. “Just wait here a minute.”

“Ok.”

Fuck. His blood rushed even more as he stood up and quickly made his way back into the party. The way you so easily accepted taking orders from him sent a hundred scenarios through his mind.

Back inside, Adrian practically ignored his friends, who were trying to get him to join them again. He just waved at them and went straight to the snack table he saw earlier. The little finger foods he loaded up onto a plate and the water he grabbed should help sober you up. He desperately wanted you to sober up.

He didn’t know why, but he half expected you to be gone when he returned. Maybe because he had to take the long way out this time, his hands were too full for him to just hop down the balcony again. But as he made his way through the garden to your spot, he slowed down as he saw you pointing a finger right up at the sky. He glanced up for a second, wondering if someone was setting fireworks off early but saw nothing of the sort.

“What’re you doing?” He asked once he was close enough.

You jumped and quickly pulled yourself up. “Adrian! You’re back!”

You remembered his name this time. He smiled and raised the plate in his hand, “and I brought snacks!”

You gave an excited little cheer and made sure there was room for him to sit and set the plate down on the bench too.

“I got a little bit of everything.” Because he wasn't sure what you did and didn’t like. He pointed to a few of the treats, “these ones are vegan. Here.” He then handed you a bottle of water.

“So, what were you doing?” He asked once you’d taken a few bites of the food.

“Oh! I was looking at the stars. Trying to find some constellations.” You pointed up at the sky again, and he looked up to where you were pointing. “Look, that’s Orion's Belt.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s three stars in a row.”

He pointed at another row of stars. “What about those ones?”

“Uh…” You squinted at the sky, as if that would somehow give you the right answer. “That’s Orion’s other belt.”

Adrian let out a loud laugh, “there’s more than one?”

You were laughing too, but you still sounded so confident as you answered him. “Yea! How many belts do you have?”

He shrugged, “a few?”

“Well, so does Orion!”

He occasionally urged you to drink or eat, but the wait for midnight was filled with fun conversation and laughter. And when the plate was cleared, you quickly found your way pressed back into his side, his arm wrapped around you.

[[I ❤ U]]

(Tuesday, February 7th)

Everything was perfectly planned and ready and Adrian couldn't be more excited. He knew you didn't want to do anything for Valentine’s Day, or at least nothing big, so he kept his plan simple. He just wished he could stick around to see your face when you saw your gift. But it would ruin the surprise if you spotted him, so he'd have to settle for talking to you later.

As you returned from your lunch break, one of your coworkers grinned at you. "You've got a rose on your desk!"

"Huh? From who?" Sure enough sitting on your desk was a single red rose with a little note attached and a small box of candy hearts.

The note was simple: “I hope you like the candy!

-❤”

No name or anything or anything else to identify them.

You blinked, "a secret admirer? Isn’t it a little early for Valentine’s Day?"

Your coworker beamed at you, "they're romantic!"

A small smile tugged at your lips as you looked around. No one seemed to be watching you, so maybe they already left? Oh well. You sat down and got ready to work again. But first! You opened the box of candy and poured a few of the hearts into your hand. They all said the same thing: UR A STAR

(Wednesday, February 8th)

The next day went similarly. You went away for lunch and when you returned there was a rose on your desk. This time it was a very beautiful blue! You smiled as you picked it up and found the note attached to the stem. The same handwriting, sloppy but at least it was legible, gave little hint to who was leaving these flowers.

“The lady at the flower shop said roses have different meanings depending on the color! How cool is that?

-❤”

You hummed in thought before pulling out your phone to search for what a blue rose could possibly mean. Red was easy, red was love. But your search told you that a blue rose symbolizes mystery and should be gifted to a person you see as unique and wonderful.

Well that’s sweet, you thought. If your secret admirer was talking to the florist about the meaning behind the color of the flowers, then they thought you were unique and wonderful. You don’t think there are many people who would think so highly of you, so that narrowed it down…maybe a little too much! You sighed and got back to work, still with no clue as to who your secret admirer was!

Adrian, dressed in his Vigilante gear, except for the mask, smiled as he watched you shimmy around the kitchen to a song you had playing on your phone while you made dinner.

He couldn’t stay for dinner though, sadly, because Vigilante was a busy guy and he already told Peacemaker that they’d cruise some crime together (but no more bitches for Vig! He is a taken man now!)

“I’ll be back later.” He promised before leaving.

That was one of the things he loved about you. You never got mad at him for keeping promises to his friends, so you completely understood that he had to go out with Peacemaker tonight.

(Thursday, February 9th)

Adrian wanted to give you a white rose next, but the flower lady convinced him not to. She said red, blue and white would look too patriotic, like a 4th of July theme instead of a Valentine's Day theme. She was probably right, so he went with a yellow rose. You were now the most important person in his life anyways, his new BFF, even if he hadn’t quite told Peacemaker and Eagly that they got bumped down.

Just like the last two days, you returned from lunch to see a new flower on your desk, a yellow rose. This time, however, it is sitting in a vase of water with the note tied around the vase instead of the rose. It was the shortest note yet, it simply read:

“#1

-❤”

“What?” You mumble to yourself as you popped the other two flowers out of the water bottle you’d been keeping them in and moved them over the vase. It was a nice little addition from your admirer, if they were going to be leaving you flowers every day for a week it was nice to have a proper vase for them.

“Yellow flowers symbolize friendship,” you read off the little list you found online, then glance back at the note. #1. This person considered you their #1 friend. Their best friend?

You gasp as you realize you may have narrowed the pool down too much by accident! You assumed that your admirer was a guy, but maybe it was a woman!

Hmm! What a mystery!

It’s nearly two in the morning when Adrian returned home, or rather, he supposed his second home? Your place certainly felt more like home to him now than his own home. Well, almost. It didn’t have all of his weapons and movies and games or his DnD sets. But, as attached to all those things as he was, he’d give it all up to be with you. So yea, his second home was wherever you were.

He’d just got done with a little Vigilante patrol and after kicking some drug dealer ass, he wanted nothing more than to be with you, but as he crept through the darkened halls he realized it was way too late!

He found you already in bed and asleep.

Sometimes when you were stressed, usually because of work, you would toss and turn a lot in your sleep. It must have been a stressful day for you, because your blankets were all over the place and your arms were tucked closer to your body to try to keep yourself warm.

He sighed, he had wanted to talk to you, it felt like such a long week because of how incompatible your schedules had been lately! Still, it was a good thing he stopped by. He carefully pulled your blankets up and tucked you in. Once he was satisfied that you’d be sleeping warm and comfortable, he gently placed a kiss on your temple. “Sweet dreams, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Then he made sure all of the doors and windows were locked and went home, to the one that felt lonely.

(Friday, February 10th)

You stayed up all night thinking about who your secret admirer could be, you were so curious it definitely affected your sleep. You snoozed your alarm three times before finally jumping out of bed and rushing through your morning routine just so you could get to work on time. No time for breakfast, or more importantly, coffee. You could already tell today was going to be a long day. The only thing you were looking forward to was finding out who your secret admirer was. You were going to skip lunch today (probably not a good idea since you skipped breakfast) and catch them when they came around to drop off today’s flower.

At least, that was your plan. You saw a new pop of blue-green before you even reached your desk. Your admirer already beat you to work!

Not only was there a new rose sitting in the middle of your desk, though, there was a cup of coffee in a to-go cup, still hot, and a breakfast bar.

You picked up the little note next to the flower and flipped it over.

“The lady at the flower shop said she could make teal roses! Teal roses don’t happen in nature, so that makes them special! Just like you!

-❤”

No mention of how they knew you skipped breakfast, or how they knew you would need a cup of coffee.

You sighed, the note was sweet, like always, and the breakfast was certainly welcomed. And now that you wouldn’t have a chance to catch this person at lunch meant that you wouldn’t have to skip lunch too. All good things. It’s just too bad that you no longer have a chance to catch your admirer in the act!

Usually Adrian didn’t mind the late shift, but ever since he met you, he was starting to resent it. You worked a normal nine to five, which meant that he’d get less time with you when he worked the late shifts. His break coincided with one of the servers, Blake, so while they were both off the floor, he caught her before she took off.

“Hey, how long do you think I should wait before asking my girlfriend to move in with me?”

Blake shook her head as she looked at him in shock. “You have a girlfriend?”

Adrian smiled, thinking of you always spread a dopey smile across his face. “Yea. She’s awesome.” Then he sighed, “but we don’t get to see each other a lot when I work this late.”

Blake nodded, she understood that. “How long have you been together?”

“Like, a month and a half.”

“What! Adrian!”

“What?”

She shook her head, “that is way too soon!”

“Well, that’s why I asked you!” Adrian gestured to her with one hand before placing his hands on hips. “When do you think it’s appropriate to ask then? Three months? Because that’s when I was planning on asking her to marry me.”

Blake nearly choked on air! She shook her head, “that’s also too soon!”

“For what? To ask her to move in or to marry her?”

She sighed. She really should have expected that Adrian would be this intense in a relationship. She just hoped that the poor girl he convinced to go out with him could handle that kind of intensity. “You know what, it depends. The best thing to do is talk to her yourself. And don’t get upset when, if, she says ‘no’.”

Adrian thought about Blake’s advice for the rest of the night. By the time he left work and made it to your place, it was already past midnight. He could see from the front window that your lights were still on, so he might be able to catch you before you went to sleep!

He quickly jogged up to the front door and used his key (ok technically it was your spare key, but you showed him where it was for a reason!) and let himself in. The entrance led directly into your living room, so as he turned around ready to announce himself, his words died in his throat.

The TV was on, as well as a side lamp, but you were fast asleep on the couch. He sighed, he missed you again!

From the way Blake sounded when she told him he had to talk to you, he figured it was a serious conversation. Not one to be had while you were groggy from just waking up.

“Ok,” he started softly as he made his way to the couch. “Let’s get you to bed.”

So carefully, so as not to wake you, he carried you to your bedroom, where he just as carefully tucked you in.

“We’ll talk later.” He promised you even as you slept and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Then he crept out of your room and cleaned up the dishes you had leftover on the coffee table, turned off the TV and all the lights. Finally he did his usual check of your locks then made his way back to his car.

Once inside the Sebring he called Peacemaker. “Hey, Peacemaker! What’s up, man, what’re you doing?”

Peacemaker must have been tired too! He sighed into the phone before asking, “what do you want, Adrian?”

“My girlfriend fell asleep early tonight, and I don’t want to wake her up. I mean she’s cute when she’s sleepy but she’s been stressed at work this week and I-”

“Wait. What girlfriend? Since when do you have a girlfriend? Who?”

“Dude! I told you about her! From the New Year’s Eve party!”

(Saturday, February 11th)

Thankfully you don’t have to work weekends, meaning you get about an extra hour of sleep on Saturdays. For the sake of keeping a normal sleep schedule you don’t let yourself stay in bed much longer than that. Besides, you were due to go grocery shopping.

As you headed out the door, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. The little potted flower plant that you kept your spare key hidden in had moved just enough to leave a ring of dirt to the left of it. Odd, you think, but after making sure the key is still there (it is), you think nothing more of it.

You are only half surprised to see a small bouquet of flowers sitting on your porch when you return home. The bouquet is quite beautiful, with five roses of different shades of pink with a spattering of white baby's breath tucked between the greenery.

Once you get everything inside you take a look at the note that came with the flowers. It's empty. All the other notes were personalized, but this one is blank with just the heart signature.

As odd as it was that the note wasn’t personalized, you did remember that this person was giving you roses with specific meanings behind the colors. You weren’t quite sure you got each respective shade right, but the list of words that popped out were: Sweet, excitement, gratitude, and desire. Rather…intense. You contemplate the meanings behind the colors as you arrange the flowers in a vase.

Before you could fall too deep into thought, you got an alert on your phone.

"Wanna meet up for lunch? Fennel Fields?"

You smiled, that actually sounded good, and sent an affirmative reply. Maybe getting a different perspective on this whole secret admirer thing could help you figure out who it is.

Adrian was ecstatic when he saw you walk into Fennel Fields, he almost ran over to give you a giant hug. In fact he would have, if his boss hadn’t caught him about to abandon the tub of dirty dishes he was carrying. Still he couldn’t help but point you out to Blake as you sat down at a table across from a friend.

“Oh, she’s cute.” Blake complemented, to which Adrian nodded enthusiastically, “right!”

But neither of them had time for more than that, as both were working and lunch time on the weekends was pretty busy.

By the time Adrian had an excuse to swing by your table, you were already deep in conversation with your friend.

“-I have no clue who is sending them! I just wanna know!”

He heard you say as he approached your table. “Hey guys,” he greeted with a bright smile. “Refill?”

You smiled and thanked him (maybe your friend did too, but all his attention was on you). “Not that I was eavesdropping or anything, but you were talking when I got here and I just think, isn’t the fun part about having a secret admirer not knowing?” He nearly overfilled your water and caught it just in time while he was talking.

“I guess,” you could only offer an embarrassed laugh and a sheepish smile. “I’m just really curious!”

Just seeing you already had him smiling, but hearing your voice and cute little laugh? It all just sent a heart racing blush across his face. “You just have to wait ‘till Valentine’s Day!”

You gave him another cute chuckle that was music to his ears and glanced away from him. He was going to say more but he caught his boss looking at him, making sure he wasn't slacking off really, and smiled at you. "I'll check on you later." Then he hurried off to do his job, your shy "thanks," echoing in his mind.

Adrian managed to get your server to apply his employee discount to your bill, since you were his girlfriend and all. Your happy smile when you saw the discount was enough to keep him lighter than air for the rest of the night. He made you smile like that.

(Sunday, February 12th)

Your Sunday was almost entirely normal for you. Except for the lunch time flower delivery. This time you thought you caught the man responsible for the roses, but after your "aha!" You blinked and stared at the man clearly in a uniform, with a prominent delivery service logo on his shirt.

"Oh. Uh, sorry. I don't suppose you have the name of whoever sent these, do you?"

The man shook his head and shrugged, "sorry I'm just the delivery guy."

You sighed and thanked him, of course.

Well, you looked at the bundle of six white roses and found the note tucked between the flowers. White, you were starting to remember the symbolism chart by now, either meant loyalty or everlasting love. A quick glance at your phone as you placed the flowers in the same vase with the pink roses confirmed that both meanings were applicable.

Much like yesterday there was nothing written, it was simply signed with a printed heart.

Did that mean that all the other notes with messages were hand delivered? So, your secret admirer was at your work…but couldn't stop by your house on the weekend? Who are they???

Over two dozen specialty roses was admittedly a little on the expensive side, especially since only one of his jobs paid, and it was minimum wage at that. So Adrian picked up a few double shifts and was ready to fill in whenever anyone called out. Which unfortunately meant that he didn’t get to spend any time with you today!

“Why are you even going through all this trouble?” Peacemaker shook his head after Adrain explained why he had to change into the Vigilante suit at the trailer.

“Uh, because I love her.” It was so obvious. “And she said she never had a Valentine before. And I want to make her happy.”

Peacemaker had to do a double take. “You love her? What the fuck? Didn't you just meet her on New Year’s?”

Adrian couldn’t help the wide grin on his face, Peacemaker was finally letting him talk about you without demanding he change the subject! “Yea but she’s special, different! That’s why we love each other!”

“Psh. She loves you?”

“Uh yea, dude, of course she does!”

“I doubt it.”

“Dude, she told me!”

(December 31st)

"Five! Four! Three!" Even over the fireworks, and despite being outside, you could hear the countdown to midnight. “Two! One!”

"Happy New Year!" You cheered, raising both hands in the air as you looked up at the night sky, completely in awe of the thunderous explosions of color.

You hadn’t even realized how much you were smiling, not until you felt Adrian’s hand, so large and warm, land on the bare skin of your thigh. You shifted your attention from the sky to him, your face relaxing as you looked at your new friend.

"Happy New year." His smile was beautiful, framed with dimples, and soft, and inviting.

"Happy New Year." You repeated softly, leaning forward as your gaze dropped briefly to his lips.

He already refused to kiss you once, and if you hadn't still had liquid courage in you then you would have shyly looked away. But you were much more bold when you had alcohol in you.

"Can I kiss you?"

In response, he moved his hand from your thigh to your chin as he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. It was short and sweet and even after you pulled away, his eyes were still closed as if he were savoring the moment. Not that you could blame him. You already wanted to kiss him again.

It was definitely a feeling worth chasing, because as soon as your eyes met, you were leaning back in for another kiss. The second and third kiss are much the same, maybe a little rougher, until you're straddling him with your tongue sliding against his in a much more heated kiss.

He let out a shuddered breath when you fully pulled away, though you kept your face close to his, noses touching. You took a breath and looked down at his hands, where he was clutching at your hips almost too tightly.

“Sorry.” He muttered quietly and let go, wiggling his fingers a little like he didn't know what to do with his hands now.

You smirk, you know exactly what he can do with his hands. You caught his right hand and held it against your thigh as you kissed him again. He didn’t seem to mind at all, melting into the kiss with enthusiasm. Then you slowly drag his hand from the top of your thigh to the inside. He knows what you’re doing and moans into the kiss as you push his hand up your skirt.

It’s Adrian who breaks the kiss next, his lips are a little swollen (you like nipping at them, and he actually seems to enjoy it). The knuckles of his fingers brush against you and you nearly whimper. “Are you sure?” His question is a whisper, his eyes, the most beautiful shade of green you think you’ve ever seen, are wide with both concern and excitement.

“Touch me.” You breath out against his lips, rolling your hips forward and bumping his hand against your clothed mound.

He hummed into the kiss, tongue hot against your lips before slipping inside only for a moment. You whine. You want him. Need him. And he keeps pulling away.

“Show me how you like it, baby.”

Your pussy twitched at just the tone of his voice, low and raspy, demanding. You break, you don’t want to be teased, so you grab his hand and firmly press his thumb against your clit, your fingers dragging his thumb just right over that sensitive spot. Your breath quickens, chest starting to heave against his as you grind yourself against his hand. The pressure his hand offers as he cups your sex, especially as you can feel his bulge growing beneath you, makes you clench your muscles achingly around nothing.

His other hand climbs up your body to your chest. The low cut top you wear makes it easy for him to grope your breast. He grunts and maneuvers your body so that he drags his mouth from your neck, down your clavicle so he can lick and suck and nip at your breasts. The new position, you're leaning back now, the only thing keeping you from falling is his large hand that is now splayed across your back, allowing him to slip his fingers inside your panties. He’s pushed your hand away from your own pussy, and now you cling to his broad shoulders and try not to cry out in pleasure as his thumb drags up from your entrance to your clit. He rubs small circles around your clit then drags his thumb back down, coating his fingers in your slick and repeating the process until your whimpering, forehead dropped to his shoulder, breath hot and ragged against his neck and you’re pleading, you don’t even hear yourself, you just need him.

“Shh,” he tries to quiet you, right before he pushes his thumb inside you.

You bite down on his shoulder, he grunts as he feels you clench around his finger. He pulls his thumb out, you cry and cry again when it goes back to rocking back and forth on your clit. His middle finger easily slips inside your now soaping pussy. His fingers are thick and long and curl just right and his thumb stills against your clit, careful to not overstimulate you too quickly. When he inserts another finger, your walls begin to flutter, you rock your hips faster, grind down on him harder, chasing the feeling of his hands on you and of the fullness his bulge promises.

He tries to insert a third finger, but he barely gets to the first knuckle when you cry out, pussy convulsing around his fingers, clit throbbing and your legs shaking so much that you have to wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold yourself up.

You whimper, or maybe cry, you can’t hear anything over the thunderous beating or your heart, as he pulls his fingers out. You fall limp against him, you pussy still pulsing and your hips still rocking softly into his.

“Fuck.” You hear him mummer, followed by the distinct sound of him licking his fingers clean, and moaning quietly to himself.

“Adrian?” You look up at him just as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth.

“Yea, baby?”

You kiss him. He tastes just the slightest bit different this time, you twitch knowing that difference is your own cum in his mouth.

He’s got the dopiest, cutest, smile on his face when you look at him again, like he wasn’t uncomfortably rock hard beneath you. You can’t remember the last time anyone has looked at you like that, and you don’t know how to respond, so you quickly drop your hands to his belt. “Need you.”

He’s quick to help you and shucks his pants down enough to free his hardened cock. You touch him through his boxers, his head falling back as he moans when you grip his length.

"Shit! Fuck, fuck! Wait!" He grabbed your wrists and held them against your thighs.

"What?"

"I don't have any condoms. Do you?"

"No." You shook your head and looked up at him through your lashes.

"Fuck, baby. Don't look at me like that!" He hissed as he resisted the urge to roll his hips into you.

"Maybe Peacemaker has one." He mumbled to himself as he turned his head and looked back at the building.

"You know Peacemaker?"

"Huh? Yea, he’s my best friend."

You chuckled, quietly at first, but eventually you had to cover your mouth to stop from laughing.

"What?"

You moved your hand away from your mouth, resting it on his shoulder. "I'm already trying to fuck you. You don't have to lie to impress me."

"I'm not lying! He really is my best friend!"

"I thought Peacemaker's best friend was Vigilante?"

"Uh, yea! I am Vigilante!"

You froze.

He froze.

Shit. He must have been more drunk than he realized if he was just blurting that out. (And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he was thinking with his dick and not his head).

You broke the silence first, licking your lips as you ran your eyes down to his chest, where his shirt was partially open. "You?"

"No! I meant! Uh. I know Vigilante! But I don't know know him, you know? Like, he could be anyone! Might even be a she!"

"Oh." You started to fiddle with the next button on his shirt, your fingers occasionally touching the skin beneath. "That's kinda too bad, then."

He swallowed and looked into your eyes. "Too bad?"

"Yea. It would have been hot as fuck if you were Vigilante." You let out a little sigh and shook your head, your eyes leaving his and looking up as you thought of Vigilante. “The things I’d do to him. The things I’d let him do to me.”

Then you looked down at him again and smiled sweetly. “But since you’re not Vigilante,” your eyes dropped back down to his chest, and he looked down too, as you started to button up his shirt.

“No! No! I lied! I lied!” He shook his head and stopped you from buttoning his shirt even more. He then glanced around to make sure no one else was around and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I am Vigilante.”

You smiled at him again, and he found himself mirroring your smile as you leaned down and gently pressed your lips to his. His eyes slid shut as he savored the sensation, your lips warm and soft, with just the faintest hint of alcohol on your breath. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, attempting to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away, grinning as he followed you.

“You’re too nice to be Vigilante.” You whispered against his lips before sitting up straight to climb off of his lap.

His hands shot down to your hips, pulling you back down and making him groan at the friction of your warmth against his hardened cock. “N-no. No I’m not!”

You gasped, and whined, and giggled, and god, he loved the noises you made. “You’re a good man, you told me.”

“Well, I’m not that good!” He had you giggling again, with the way his eyebrows arched up as he tried to assure you that he is Vigilante.

“Oh, really?” Your hands dragged down his chest to play with the band of his boxers, your fingers dipping inside the band and teasing him.

“I. I’ve killed so many people.” He panted out, leaning forward to try to capture your mouth in another kiss.

Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, because you stilled once again. “Uh. I mean. I.” He stuttered out, brain racing to find a way to keep you close to him.

Your eyes, narrowed as you process the words that slipped past his mouth, meet his and a slow, challenging, grin pulls at your lips. You don’t quite believe him, so you ask, “how?” And you give him what he wants, your lips against his, your tongue in his mouth.

He starts to mumble an answer as you drag your mouth down his jaw to his neck. You’d been staring at his neck all night, when you weren’t distracted by fireworks, and you wanted so much to sink your teeth in the taut muscles. “All kinds of ways. Shooting.” He hissed when your teeth started to drag across the skin on his neck. “Uh. I’m good with a sword.” The way you hummed against his skin and grind your hips into his, his erection sliding against your pussy, had him squeezing his eyes shut and digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs.

He’s not sure if your whine is from pain or pleasure, but either way he releases his death grip and runs his hands up your thighs, under your skirt and settles his hands on your ass. “Sometimes I choke people out.”

There’s a loud smacking sound as you pull away from his neck, leaving a reddening mark on his pale skin. “You should have choked me.” You whisper against his lips before kissing him again.

“You’d really like that?” He sounded shocked, his hips stopped their constant movement and he even pulled away a bit to look at you, to make sure he heard you right.

“Mmhmm.” You smirk and pull him into another sloppy kiss.

Adrian moans into the kiss, his jaw falling open as you finally sink a hand into his boxers and gently wrap your fingers around his cock.

“God!” He managed to pant out, “where have you been all my life?”

You smiled at that, but had to bite down on your lip as he continued to ramble and groan and buck into your hand.

“Well, not all my life.” He whined as your thumb swiped across the tip of his cock, collecting pre cum and spreading it down his length. “I didn’t hit puberty.” He gasped and groaned as you pumped your hand faster. “Until my mid-twenties.” Your hand, initially cold against cock, was now warm and sticky with his precum, drawing him closer with every pump. “Not that I wouldn’t have noticed-”

You rolled your eyes at how much he could talk while you were giving him a handjob. You pulled your hand away from his cock, his hips jerking up and probably would have bounced you off of his lap if his hands weren’t glued to your ass. “Fuck!” He hissed, “please don’t-mmhh!”

You shoved three fingers, hand still coated in his precum, into his mouth, stopping him from rambling anymore. “Suck.” You ordered sharply.

Adrian’s eyes rolled back, hips bucking wildly, as he did as he was told. Mouth clamping down on your fingers, almost biting you, tongue lapping at his own spend.

You hum as Adrian obscenely sucks on your fingers, hips still rocking up but you sit back on his lap and refuse him the pleasure he seeks. Your other hand softly runs through his hair, a heady juxtaposition to the way you nearly gag him with your fingers. “Good boy.” You mutter, and he moans loudly at your praise. You wiggled your fingers in his mouth a bit, before your other hand grips his hair at the roots tightly and pulls. “Enough.”

He groans as your fingers lewdly pop out of his mouth, strings of saliva dripping down your hand. Adrian is practically gasping, lost in the nearly overwhelming sensation of you. “I.” He wanted to ask you, beg you really, to keep touching him, but you swat his hands off of your body and hop off of his lap. He’s not proud of the cry that left him but it was an honest reaction when, for a split second, he thought you were going to leave him wanting, so close to coming.

Instead you kneel down between his thighs, impossibly well balanced on heels, and yank his boxers, and pants, down enough to fully expose his cock, springing free and leaking precum, to the cold outside air. He hisses when you wrap one hand around his cock, the spit on your hand both feels good as it helps slip your hand up and down, but leaves cold trails behind searing pumps.

He isn’t cold for long, as you drop your head and guide his cock into your warm, wet, mouth. He’s moaning, fucking crying out, as your tongue circles the tip of his cock while your hand continues slide in tandem with the bobbing of your mouth as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, your hand twists around his thick girth, thumb rubbing against the veiny underside of his cock.

Adrian shudders, either his eyes are closed or his vision is failing him, the only sense left to him is the feeling of your mouth around his cock. He looks down at the sight of you, cheeks puffed out, saliva and precum dribbling out the side of your mouth. The gag you make as you push his cock further down your throat draws his right hand to the back of your head and pushes you back down on his dick, even as his hips thrust up. You breathe loudly through your nose, tickled when you meet with the cushion of his pubic hair.

It’s all too much for him and he roars out his orgasm, cock convulsing and filling your mouth with cum. His eyes rolled back and squeezed shut as he fell limp against the bench he’s sitting on. He’s not even sure if you swallowed or spit, but he reaches a shaky hand out to you as you sit back on the bench with him.

He’s also not aware of you pulling his shirt down or boxers up, covering him both from the cold and just in case anyone happens by. All he can do is reach a shaky hand out to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away some of his cum that still covered your chin and smile, all wide and sweet. “I think I love you.” He muttered and pulled you in for a lazy kiss.

You giggled against his mouth but returned the sentiment. “I think I love you too.”

(Monday, February 13th)

Your coworker, who seemed just as invested in finding out who your secret admirer was as you were, greeted you as you walked into work Monday. "So, did you get any more flowers this weekend?"

"Five pink roses on Saturday and six white on Sunday."

They whistled and laughed, “I think you’ve got a sugar daddy on your hands!”

“Hard to know when I can’t even figure out who they are!” You laughed as you made your way to your desk.

The flowers from last week were a little droopy but otherwise still looked nice.

Although you decided to stay in for lunch, you still needed to head to the breakroom to grab your lunch from the fridge. And you got caught up in conversation before you remembered why you wanted to eat at your desk today.

Sure enough by the time you got back to your desk there was another unique rose waiting for you. Dang it! Missed them again!

You didn’t dwell so much on who left the flower today as the flower itself was startlingly beautiful. You picked it up and touched the petals, checking to see if you’d received a fake flower today. But no, the multicolored rose was real. The petals were vibrantly colored, dark blue, hot pink, bright yellow, and deep red.

The note attached fluttered to your desk before you grabbed it and turned it over.

“Look! They can even make rainbow roses! (But I still think the teal rose is the best!)

-❤”

Of course by the time you were looking around for your secret admirer, they were already gone.

Adrian, once again, made sure everything was locked as he left your place after dinner. It had been so difficult to keep his excitement in check all night, but he couldn’t give it away! He couldn’t wait to see your face tomorrow!

(Tuesday, February 14th)

“Hey, no new flower today?” Your coworker noticed you holding the small vase with the collection of flowers from over the week as you were heading home for the day.

You shrugged. “Maybe they got their dates confused? The rainbow flower is extravagant enough to be a final flower.”

“A little underwhelming, don't you think?”

“What’s underwhelming is I still don’t know who left them!”

The two of you shared a laugh before going your separate ways in the parking lot. Alright, maybe you didn't want to admit to your friend that you wanted another flower, but you were kind of expecting another one.

You sighed as you headed home. Oh well. An uneventful Valentine’s Day was nothing unexpected.

Adrian let out a little frustrated groan as he tried to fix the cowlick in his hair that just wouldn’t stay down! He wanted everything to be perfect for today!

Even though it was a Tuesday, Valentine’s Day was sure to be busy at the restaurant. But he managed to secure the rest of the day off. He worked the lunch shift and told his manager that he had to be off by 3. Of course it was nearly 4 by the time he actually clocked out, which meant that he had less time to prepare for his date with you. He didn’t dry his hair properly and now it was working against him!

He sighed, maybe you wouldn’t notice it.

Everything else had gone according to plan though. He caught his reflection in the mirrors as he stepped out of the car. The teal turtle neck and black slacks cut a “classic” figure. At least, that’s what the sales lady at the store said. Not that it mattered too much to him, if things went according to plan, then he (and you!) wouldn’t be dressed much longer anyways!

The thought alone had him giddy as he walked up to your door, a bouquet of mixed roses and a Valentine’s Day themed box of your favorite candy in hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” He cheered with a smile on his face as you opened the door.

You blinked as you stared at a giant bouquet of roses before you looked at him. “Uh, wh-what?”

He grinned. Your confused expression was so cute! “Surprised you, didn’t I? It was me the whole time!”

He glanced over your shoulder where he saw two vases filled with flowers, the flowers he’d given you, sitting in the middle of the coffee table.

You shook your head, “what? What are you..? Wh-”

Adrian held his gifts out to you, as you hadn’t reached out for them or even stepped aside to let him in. “I was your secret admirer the whole time!”

You turned, stepping back to do so, and followed his line of sight. He took this as a sign to come in.

“Whoa! Hey! Hey! Wait! Wait!” You panicked, and rushed in front of him, which actually let him in even more.

“What?”

“You can’t just walk into my house!”

You were standing on the other side of the couch now, arms up as if that could put more distance between the two of you. “Who are you?” You screeched, looking between him and the now closed front door.

Adrian laughed, doubled over and held his stomach. “Good one! You’re so funny, babe!”

You shook your head, your breathing starting to come quicker. “What? No. I. Who are you?!” You repeated, taking another step back.

“Huh? What do you mean?” At this point he was so far in the living room he placed the new flowers and candy on the coffee table.

Adrian’s laughter faded and he tilted his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Ok. I’m gonna be honest. I don’t get the joke.” You were still giving him that confused look, so he clarified, thinking you wanted to hear him actually say that he was your boyfriend. “It’s me, Adrian. Your boyfriend.”

You quickly shook your head and pointed to the door. “Get out! I don’t know you! Get out!”

“What do you mean? We’ve been dating for almost two months!”

“WHAT?!”

He winced slightly. Your voice could get really high pitched. “Yea, you know. Since New Year's?”

You froze. New year’s? A sinking pit formed in your stomach as you remembered something.

“What about that guy you hooked up with on New Year’s?” Your friend asked as you thought about who could be leaving you roses.

“I hooked up with someone on New Year’s??” You gasped.

She laughed. “Well, I don’t know that you guys actually hooked up. But you spent all night with him.”

“Dude!” You snorted out a bewildered laugh. “I have NO memory of New Year's!”

“What?”

“Yea, total black out.”

“What? Seriously?”

You shrugged. “I swear. I remember dancing. And the next thing I know I’m waking up the next day. At home. Majorly hung over, but perfectly fine.”

Your eyes snapped up as the guy moved around the couch, you stepped back again in response until your back hit the wall. “I know you…”

“Uh, duh. Dude, are you mad at me or something? Look, I’m sorry, I know you said it was too soon for us to do anything on Valentine’s Day-”

“You work at Fennel Fields.” You whispered, as you realized where you’d seen his face before. You joked with your friend that you wished someone as cute as him was your secret admirer. Careful what you wish for.

“Yea, as my day job.” He said, a confused lilt in his voice. How could you not remember that? You were just there a few days ago!

You were starting to shake at this point, you wanted to run, but your legs wouldn’t listen to you. Your heart was beating so fast, so loud, maybe your own body couldn’t hear you.

“Hey, you ok?” He asked, one hand reaching out and touching your shoulder.

You flinched and pressed yourself harder against the wall, though the action did nothing to get you away from his touch. “What do you want?” You spoke softly, afraid to hear the answer, but you had to know.

“I just wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with you. I took an early shift today and I told Peacemaker that I couldn’t go out on patrol tonight.”

“Patrol…with Peacemaker?”

For some reason, you were very curious about Vigilante after New Year’s. You thought it was something on the news, the murderous madman segment, that triggered the new fascination but… “You’re Vigilante.”

Adrian furrowed his brow as he was trying to understand why you were acting weird. “I swear I’m extra careful, no one knows about my secret identity, except you and Peacemaker and the rest of the team, so no one knows that you’re with me!”

Your chest tightened as you listened to him ramble.

No one knows.

“Hey,” you hadn’t realized you had been looking down at the floor until you felt him gently nudge your chin to instead look at him. Everything about him was gentle, his voice, his demeanor. But his words sent ice through your veins. “No one will ever know, I promise.”

You were silent. All you could do was stare into his eyes, but all you saw was your distorted reflection off his glasses.

“By the way,” he smirked and dragged his eyes slowly down your body. “You look very cute today, are you sure you didn’t know I was coming over?”

Your stomach flipped and you looked down at yourself too. You were wearing a cute Valentine’s Day themed pajama set: a simple red tank top with a pink heart over your left breast, and black, very comfortable, shorts printed with smaller versions of the same heart.

You just loved comfortable clothing. You’d get home from work and immediately change. Pajama sets like the ones you were wearing were not only comfortable, but cheap, especially when you got them on sale because they were almost out of season.

He made this guttural sound that made you freeze, your heart squeezing in your chest and your breath stuck in your lungs. You didn’t move, couldn’t move. His mouth was on yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and tongue thrusting into your mouth with no resistance from you.

“I missed you so much,” he muttered before kissing you again, his right hand holding your face and his left resting on your hip.

It’s not until you feel his hardening erection against your inner thigh that you gasp. His hips jerk forward, driving the hard bulge of his cock against your crotch. The hand he had cradling your face moves down to your breasts where he gropes the perfectly placed heart. You whimper and clutch at his sweater, somehow your mind registers how soft the material is, cashmere?

“I think about you when we’re not together.” He playfully, with an excited grin, pinches at your already hardened nipple and groans. He hunches down slightly to rest his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

A panicked squeak manages to escape your throat. You’re hot, too hot. All you can smell is him, his cologne is faint, mingled with some kind of soap, and yet suffocating. All you can feel is him, his hands on your body are hot. His breath on your lips is hot. The trail of saliva he leaves on your skin as he sucks a hickey onto your neck is hot. He is hot. A furnace and you’re much too close.

Adrian moans, all your squirming has him excited, he knew you missed him too. He can’t believe he was able to go so long without touching you again. You're so soft. Your tits, now bared to him as you weren't wearing a bra under your shirt, are soft and alluring. He bites and squeezes and thrusts against your soft thighs. And your lips are soft as you pant and whimper and moan into his neck.

You're lost the moment he shoves his hands down your panties. His two middle fingers immediately find your clit and he alternates rubbing circles in just the right direction and dragging his fingers down to your entrance. As hard as you're both breathing, and as loud as your heart is pounding, you can still hear the lewd squelch of his hand, covered in your cum, working your clit expertly, just the way you like.

He groans as his left hand gropes your breasts, his face buried in your neck, sucking rough kisses on your skin. When he bites you harder than is pleasurable, your fingers dig into the thick muscles underneath that pretty sweater, reminding you of who he is.

His teeth bite down on the juncture of your neck, you cry out, from pain or fear.

"Fuck," he mumbled into your skin, his tongue now lapping at the sensitive spot. "I'm sorry."

His hips thrust forward as he pulled his face away from your neck. He looks at you, chest heaving, mouth agape and lips swollen from his kisses, beautiful eyes glazed over and he sinks one finger into you.

You moan and squeeze your eyes shut, bucking your hips into his hand as the heel of his palm rubs against your clit. Your pussy clenches around his finger as he slowly drags it out.

"Mm, fuck." He grunts, "You're even tighter than last time. I'm gonna need you to relax for me, baby."

You whine and your forehead dropped to his shoulder, he and the wall are bearing your weight now. You can see his hand in your shorts, the flimsy material a poor cover up of the obscenity of his actions, of the fact that you enjoy his actions. The edge of your vision blurs into two colors, black and teal.

He's panting above you as he dips the tip of another finger into you. Your thighs clamp down around his hand but it does nothing to stop him from pushing his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy. His fingers are so thick and they stretch your pussy deliciously. It only takes a few pumps, with his palm continuously rubbing your clit, for your legs start to shake.

Then he pulls his hand away from your pussy, and you cry at the sudden emptiness. You mouth a word he can't hear, but he sees the way you squeeze your thighs together, the way your eyes are shut tightly and your chest heaving.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath before he looks at you almost bashfully, batting his long lashes at you.

“I didn’t get to eat your pussy last time.”

The statement startles you out of your daze. “What?” You no longer have a voice, just a whisper.

His hands now rest on either side of your hip, playing with the material of your shorts. “Can I?”

He then kneels down in front of you, pushing your shirt up enough to plant gentle kisses on your stomach as he starts to pull your shorts and panties down.

“Wait!” There’s your voice. You drop a hand to his hair and pull his face away from your waist. He grunts when you pull his hair, but there is a wild look of ecstasy in his eyes when he looks up at you.

“I.” You swallow, now’s your chance to get him to stop. “I’ve never... I mean, no one’s ever.” Why can’t you bring yourself to say ‘no’?

Adrian at least grasps the meaning behind your stuttered words. “You’ve never been eaten out?” He practically gasps, bewildered eyes darting around your face as he looks up at you.

You shake your head and everything is still for a moment. At least you can finally breathe.

"It's just," you bite your lip as you rack your brain for words. "It's a trust thing."

He blinks and purses his lips together as he processes your words.

You start to shake again as he says nothing. You're cold now, your tits are still out, your panties and shorts are drenched in cum, some of it leaking down your thigh is a sticky reminder of what happened.

"Alright."

You sighed, he-

He pulled your shorts and panties down with one tug, eliciting a yelp from you. You don't have a chance to protest as he stands back up and spins you around, pushing you face first into the wall.

He plants his left hand on the wall next to your face, and his right snakes around you to play with your clit again. You gasp as you feel his breath hit the side of your face. "If you don't want me to eat you out, then you need to take three fingers in this tight little pussy of yours."

You mewl into the wall as he quickly draws his fingers across your clit, rubs circles around your clit, left to right up and down. His middle finger dips into your entrance once, twice, and slides back up to your clit. His hard cock, though still restrained in his pants, rubs against your ass. He's grunting in your ear as his left hand comes down from the wall to paw at your breast, roughly tweaking an already hardened nipple.

You try not to moan at the onslaught of sensations, but Adrian hears your muffled little grunts and plunges two fingers into your pussy. Given how wet you've quickly become, his fingers easily slide in and out of you, and every time he pulls his fingers all the way out, only to slam them back in, his palm slapping against your clit, you lose what little control you have left of you.

There is nothing slow or gentle when he pushes a third finger into you. You’re already so wet and close that the added girth feels nothing less than amazing, your pussy convulsing around his fingers, and you moan, loudly. “Ahh! Ffuck!” You cry, hiding your face in your hands that are planted firmly on the wall as you rock your hips forward, chasing the pleasure his hand offers and back, chasing the promise that the hard fat bulge of his cock offers.

You’re so close, your body is shaking. The only relief from the heat that’s searing through your blood is his spit on your shoulder and neck, he licks and bites and leaves cooling wetness where his mouth was.

Your hips move erratically, you arch your back, your tits now pressed into the wall (another source of coolness for your heated body) and he pulls his hand away from you and your wail turns into a surprised yelp when he firmly slaps his hand on your clit. You were so close to coming, and judging by his amused chuckle, he knew what he stopped.

“Not yet, baby.” He growls as his left hand slides up your chest and grips your chin, forcing you to look right. He holds his right hand up for you to see. “Look how fucking good you did.”

Your pussy clenches, you rock your ass against his crotch, at the sight of his hand soaked in your juices. He spreads his fingers and strings of cum connect all four, break and reform again when he flexes his hand. He sticks two fingers into his mouth and the moan he lets out is so deep and guttural that you feel it in his chest. His fingers pop out of his mouth and he sighs, “fuck, I wish you’d let me eat you.”

He chuckles again when he feels you rock against his dick again. His hand comes down swiftly on your hip with a slap, which he soothingly rubs before sliding his hand around to rest on your lower belly. You pant and whimper and he pushes you into the wall while he thrusts his hips forward. “You want it, baby?”

His hands leave your body for a moment and he can feel him shuffling behind you. His sweater, and a white undershirt that peeks out from it, fall to the ground by your feet. There’s more shuffling and he steps back from you entirely, leaving you hanging on the wall for support. His pants and boxers fall onto the pile of clothes next.

“Look, I brought condoms this time!” He cheers in a goofy voice and waves a row of condoms in front of your face.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you want to laugh at the way his demeanor changed, but the perplexing relief is short-lived when you hear the ‘shing’ of a pocket knife opening. He leans over you again, his cock now covered in a condom, pushes between your thighs and glides over your slit. You whimper when the head of his cock rubs against your clit, but your body is stiff still, as you can feel the cold sharp blade of a knife on your back.

“You don’t need this anymore.” His voice still has that silly lilt to it while he slices through your tank top, the edge of the blade lightly scratching your back as he drags it down.

The tattered pieces of your shirt fall soundlessly to the ground, covering his pile of clothes. He closes the pocket knife and tosses it on the ground, it thuds as it lands on top of the pile, silver glinting against red rags.

“Look at me,” he orders as he turns you around, and hikes one of your legs over his hip.

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper as he teases you, sliding his cock past your clit and ghosting at your entrance. His left hand firmly grips your chin, his other is holding onto your raised thigh, and he forces you to look at him.

A deep blush stains his face and neck pink and there’s a sheen of sweat covering his body. His hair is starting to mat down from sweat, but it only makes his hair curlier. And his eyes, you stare past smudged lenses, and see how dark and wild his eyes are. He grins, with dimples pretty enough to lower your guard, and slides his cock over your slit again. You whine and try to move your hips forward, but he has a firm hold on your body and stops you. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

He laughs, actually laughs, when he circles the fat head of his cock on your clit and your head falls back, tears spring from your eyes, and moan. “What do you want?”

Your body is burning up inside, he is somehow hotter and yet you know the only relief you’ll get, that you need, is from him. You gasp, something in you snapping, and you run your hands quickly over his chest and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. He grunts a little as you pull him down and smash your mouth against his, your tongue seeking his. He pushes forward and plants his left arm against the wall, caging you.

You break from the kiss, lips still close to his, “fuck me.” You breathe quietly against his lips. You kiss him again, “fuck me.” Your voice is a little louder this time. You kiss him again, “I need you, Adrian.”

He moans into your last kiss and lifts you off of the floor, your back flush against the wall, and wraps both of your legs around his waist. He wastes no time in teasing you again, driving his cock, thick and long and hard, into your aching pussy. You cry out, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders as he pistons in and out of you.

He’s loud and vocal, all grunts and growls and praises. “Fuck. Fuck.” He pants as he forehead pressed against yours. “So fucking good!” He grunts. “Tight. Fucking. Little. Pussy.” He thrusts into you again and again, eyes tightly shut as he chases his orgasm.

You cry, voice breaking and tears falling freely from your eyes, as he overwhelms your senses. You bury your face in his neck, biting down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder to muffle your moans. Your pussy spasms, rocking your entire body against his. He moans as he feels your muscles clench rapidly around his cock, but he doesn’t slow down. “Fuck, yea! Baby, come on my fucking cock!”

There’s no build up to your second orgasm, but Adrian nearing his own orgasm, hips bucking wildly into yours, slams you into the wall and wraps a hand around your throat. He groans, hot breath fanning over your face and squeezes his hand just enough to send your already racing heart into overdrive. You gasp, drawing air just as you come, and his hand falls from your throat and your vision is all stars, your body shuddering against him as his hips slow down. His cock twitches inside you, the last vestiges of his, and your, orgasm slipping out of you.

You’re both still for a moment, wrapped around each other, stuck to each other, until he takes a steady breath. He sets you on the floor gently and slides off the condom and tosses it in a nearby wastebasket.

You have never felt so weak, your legs shake and threaten to give out under you, your arms are too heavy and you’re still panting for breath. Adrian, all smiles now, catches you before you slide all the way to the floor. “Let’s lay down.”

You try to step forward, but he stops you and carries you instead. You don’t question how he knows where your bedroom is, you push even the thought of questioning it to the back of your mind. Instead you let him maneuver you on your own bed.

He crawls over you, slotting himself between your legs, and places a gentle kiss on your lips. You sigh into the kiss, too exhausted to respond enthusiastically.

“Hey,” his hand gently cradles your face as he rests his forehead against yours. You look at him and he smiles, it's soft and dopey and makes your heart race and stomach flip. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

A short, weak, chuckle escapes you, before he kisses you again. You whine, raising a knee up, when his semi-hard dick brushes against your pussy. He moans and trails his mouth down your jaw to your neck. You arch against him and he smiles into your skin.

“Can I eat you out now?”

You freeze when you register his question. But he doesn’t let you dwell on it too long, as his mouth has reached your breasts and he takes one sensitive nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while he gently gropes the other. He switches breasts, massaging you and getting you all worked up again.

“Please?”

He pleaded as his hips jut into the bed, looking up at you with wide eyes through smudged glasses. Your body is still reacting to him. Your heart beating loudly and fast in your chest, your breath shallow. He leaves trails of goosebumps across your skin, hot and sticky with sweat and saliva and tears. Your clit aches and throbs as his lips and tongue slide down your body.

Even in his heated state he remembered why you denied him in the first place. "It's a trust thing," you said.

"I love you. You can trust me, I swear." His mouth drops lower, lips falling to your hip bone, where he sucks a gentle kiss. "Please, baby." He starts to beg again, "can taste your pussy? I'll make you feel good, I promise."

You're still numb on the inside, but one thought does cross your mind as you stare into those terrifyingly soft green eyes. You reach down and find your hand tangled in his hair, gripping an out of place curl and gently tug. “I,” you start quietly, the words are foreign in your mind, but familiar on your tongue. “Think I love you.”

A brilliant smile crosses his face, he might have even let out an excited squeal. You don’t know, you’re already lost in the sensation of his mouth on your pussy, lost in the sensation of him.

#vigilante x reader #adrian chase x reader #dark fic #angst #fuckofffluff #things got out of control

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the-cult-of-russo · 1 year

Text

Poetic Tragedy (Part 1)

Pairing: Reader X Billy Russo

Warnings: Cursing, angst, sadness, substance abuse, mental health issues. This one’s a little dark and not really in a violent way (okay, it does have the typical canon violence lmao). Just more the themes explored, I guess?

A/N: So I legit have like three other Billy multi-chapter stories I’ve come up with since being back and I get like one chapter done and another idea hits me. This one came to me when writing another and I hope you guys like it. I'll be honest, I usually like waiting until my multi-chapter fics are completed before posting them. I have a habit of starting them and then I get stuck or whatever and they get abandoned. But I'm onto my third chapter of this and I figured I'd post it and see what people think.

Name for this one is from a song of the same name by The Used.

The cup is not half empty as pessimists say

As far as he's sees, nothing's left in the cup

A whole cup full of nothing for him to indulge

Since the voice of ambition has long since been shut up

A singer, a writer, he's not dreaming now of going nowhere

He gave heed to nothing, and all that he was....

Is just a tragedy

So he voyages in circles

Succeeds getting nowhere

And submits to the substance

That first got him there

Then in violent, frustration, he cries out to God or just no one

Is there a point to this madness and all that he was....

Is just a tragedy

—------------------------

“The vigilante duo, The Punisher and Jigsaw, once again took down a crime syndicate last night with the help of their soldiers. We don’t have details right now but the CIA and FBI have said they're looking into it,” the newsreader said gravely and you rolled your eyes, leg bobbing up and down as you waited impatiently on the sofa. Josh came back out from his room then. He’d been on the phone when you got here and told you to wait. He chucked his phone on the dirty coffee table before he licked his lower lip and tilted his head at you. He was skinny, scarily so and his blonde hair looked dull and hung over his eyes.

“It’s gone up, sweet cheeks,” he smirked. It made your skin crawl and you glowered at him.

“What do you mean it’s gone up? It went up last week. Do you think I have money coming out of my ass?” you asked in a snappy tone, your hand sweeping across you and drawing attention to the dirty jeans and the holey, far too large for your frail frame, dark gray sweater. He let out a condescending snort and shrugged his shoulders.

“That's not my problem, Y/N. You’re not my problem. It's gonna be $100,” he smirked. You stood up, hands clenched to fists as they shook. You felt the desperation clawing at you as you grabbed the only money you had out of your pocket, waving it at him.

“I have $50! 50, That we agreed on! It’s all I have!” you yelled, your voice tinged with panic.

“Well it's not $50 anymore, princess,” he grinned darkly. You growled, gritting your teeth so hard they felt like they might shatter.

“Or…. you could give me the 50 and make up for the rest in another way?” he smirked leeringly at you and you recoiled, feeling sick. You’d only ever stooped that low once before and you’d never do it again. It made shame fill every pore of your body to think about.

“Go fuck yourself!” you snarled, stomping to the front door.

“Come back with the money or your pussy or don't come back at all, Y/N!” he called out after you and you slammed his door forcefully.

That slimy piece of shit. You hated him. Hated that you had to rely on him and hated that he could easily screw you over and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it. You had about a day before things were about to get really fucking bad for you. You knew the only option was to steal the money you needed. Stealing wasn't exactly new to you, it was how you made most of your money these days. But with the amount so high, you didn't think you’d have enough left over for food too. And with no food in your stomach for 4 days, it made you feel depressed. You knew what you’d pick, what you’d always pick. You heaved a sigh and brought your arms around yourself to stave off the cold. Your sweater wasn't thick and all you had under it was a ratty old black tank top. The same clothes you’d worn for the past 3 years after a local church wanted to help those in need. You didn't believe in god, didn't think he'd bestow the life forced on you if he was real. Still, you were grateful for the good Samaritans that helped in the name of Jesus. Your boots had holes in them and were a size too small. You’d found those in the dumpster a few years back too. You glanced to the sky and you knew it would be dark soon. That's when you’d strike. It was best like that. Less people around to try and intervene.

By the time darkness blanketed the sky, you were on the prowl. You hadn't come across anyone suitable yet. No one alone and an easy target. You might be desperate but you weren't stupid. A flick to the nose would have you on the floor so you had to be careful. There had been plenty of people, although not half as many as in the daytime. Mostly groups of drunk people having a good time on a Friday night. You scratched your face with a sigh, a hopelessness consuming you as you worried you wouldn't find anyone. But then luck seemed to hit you across the face. A woman was crossing the street, coming over to your side. She was chattering on her cell phone, looking like her head was in the clouds. You eyed her up, noticing her Louboutin heels as they clicked against the sidewalk. You might be broke as shit but it didn't mean you didn't know designer when you saw it. Your eyes lit up gleefully. Maybe you'd be able to get your food too after all.

You steeled yourself as you walked, the girl walking your way as she yammered on to whoever the poor victim on the phone was. Her purse was dangling precariously off her forearm as she strutted down the sidewalk like it was a runway. You rolled your eyes internally. Didn't she know how dangerous New York was at night? She was lucky you were the one to meet her and no one else. As you walked past her, your hand darted out with the reflex only an experienced thief would have as you snatched her purse.

"Hey!" She squealed at you, but you didn't stick around as you took off running. You knew with those heels, she wouldn't be chasing you. You ran until you got to the alley a block away. Your alley. You finally looked at your goods then. A Gucci purse, figures. You knew it would fetch a pretty penny if you could sell it. Issue was that no self-respecting business would allow you to step foot in their store. Holding no value to you, you opened it, snatching the money from the pocket inside before you tossed the purse to the damp and dirty ground. Your face split into a grin as you counted it. $500. That would be enough for what you needed plus food for days. Maybe even for your next few trips to Josh's. It sent a wave of relief right through you. You'd never managed this much before. It was getting harder and harder to steal here in the city. Maybe since crime rates went up and vigilantes became a thing all over the news.

You were basking in your accomplishment, too distracted to hear anyone behind you at the mouth of the alley you'd just come from.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?" A voice rang out, making you whirl around to come face to face with two men. Your eyes darted from one to the other in quick succession. One was shorter than the other, his face unobscured but his chest emblazoned with a skull. The other was wearing a black hoodie, the hood pulled up and a weird white mask with painted cracks on it. He looked like he should be in a horror movie. But you knew looking at them who they were and once your shock wore off, you scoffed and shook your head. The Punisher and fucking Jigsaw. Of course.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you huffed, jaw clenched. No, god really didn't exist.

"Stealin's wrong, sweetheart. Hand the money over," The Punisher smirked, holding out his hand. Your hand tightened around the money as you gaped at him.

"Don't you have real crime to be dealing with? You know, like rape and murder?" You asked dryly.

"Stealin’ is a crime," Jigsaw muttered, tilting his head at you. He was far more unsettling than his counterpart, only his dark eyes visible from his mask. He was standing tall and imposing, legs slightly apart and his shoulder squared.

"I'm not giving you the money," you growled, squinting at them both.

"Yeah, you are," The Punisher smirked.

"Or what?" You asked defiantly, raising a brow. Jigsaw reached around him, grabbing a handgun from his waistband before cocking it.

You let out an incredulous laugh as you shook your head for what felt like the millionth time.

"Are you serious?" You asked, looking half amused and half stunned.

"As a heart attack," The Punisher answered.

"Did you see who I stole this off? Bitch looked like she has a penthouse with a maid. Fucking Louboutin shoes and a Gucci purse. Meanwhile, I'm over here living in a goddamn alley," you swept your arm behind you where a meager blanket lay near the wall on top of a large piece of cardboard.

"I haven't eaten in four days, but no, I'm sure Miss Penthouse will really miss a few hundred dollars," you seethed. The pair looked at each other, Jigsaw rolling his shoulder a little. The Punisher gave you an uncomfortable look as he stepped forward, making you tense as he held his hand out. You scoffed a mirthless laugh, roughly slapping the money into his hands.

"And I thought you guys were supposed to be the good guys," you sneered.

"We are," The Punisher muttered tensely. You snorted at his words.

"Sure, keep telling yourself that. You go out there trying to rid New York of crime but you don't ever question why stuff like this happens? You really think petty crime is the same shit as murder? You tar all of us with the same brush when some of us do this out of necessity. To survive. But yeah, we're all just criminals. I'll remember that when I'm lay there freezing and starving," you bit out, anger swirling around inside of you before you stomped over to your blanket.

"Now get the fuck out of my alley!" You bellowed, glaring at them. They exchanged another uncomfortable glance with each other before Jigsaw made a move to grab the Gucci purse from the ground. With that, they left.

You sat heavily on the cardboard, pulling the blanket around you although it did little to ease the cold. It was turning winter and you dreaded it. Those were always the hardest months here. You couldn't believe those two assholes. Now you had no money for food, no money for… You felt a lump in your throat as the panic clawed at you again. It wasn't like you did it because you liked it. Not anymore. But now you needed it to function and you hated it. You lay down as tears pricked your eyes and you willed yourself to get to sleep. You had no idea what you were supposed to do now. The idea of having to go and pay Josh that way again made you feel sick but you were starting to think you wouldn’t have a choice.

—------------------------

The next morning, you lay wrapped in your blanket, eyes unfocused and gazing at the opposite wall. You’d been awake for hours but you couldn’t bring yourself to get up. It had started. Withdrawals. Your body was aching like a bitch and you felt colder than you knew you were supposed to. Your head was thumping and you were exhausted, yet unable to sleep. You heard your stomach growl loudly on its fifth day with no food but you tried to ignore it. You didn't want to face the world, didn't want to have to sit there and beg for change. It certainly wouldn't help you right now, give you what you needed. And while you knew you also needed food, the thought made your stomach roll. You still had the $50 burning a hole in your pocket, but you weren’t touching that. That was for something else and you needed to make up the rest of the money and fast. You heard the sound of boots in the alley and struggled to sit up. When you glanced over, there was a figure walking down it. It took you a moment to recognise him without the skull over his chest, but there was The Punisher. He was wearing a dark green hoodie with the hood pulled up, some jeans and boots on. He held something in his hand. You groaned inwardly, not in the mood for his bullshit. Your nerves felt raw already and you didn't want to deal with him after last night.

“I thought I told you to fuck off,” you huffed weakly as he stopped a little in front of you. Your face felt clammy and you leaned back against the brick wall as you sat there looking at him.

“You did. But I… I brought you breakfast,” he muttered, looking uncomfortable. He held out a styrofoam tray and cup of some kind of hot drink but you made no move to take it.

“Wow, didn’t realize breakfast and a drink cost $500!” you smiled mockingly at him. He shifted on his feet, eyes darting all over the place before back on you. When you didn't take the food, he sighed and placed them on the floor next to you. Despite your salty words, you picked up the drink, not caring what was in it. The heat on your hands felt relieving and you sipped on it gingerly. Coffee.

“Your little pal Jason not with you?” you quipped hotly after another sip and him just awkwardly watching you. A confused frown graced his face.

“What?” he asked, squinting at you.

“Jason… Friday the 13th?” you asked, raising a brow with a blank look on your face.

“Look… About last night,” he started, completely ignoring your question.

“Unless you got my $500 in your pocket, I don't care,” you smirked darkly. He raised his eyes heavenward for a moment with a sigh.

“I know shit ain’t black and white, alright? I’m not stupid. But you can’t go around takin’ shit that ain’t yours,” he huffed. You laughed but it wasn't a pleasant sound as you blinked up at him. You felt like shit and you had no patience.

“Listen…” you trailed off, not knowing what to call him. You didn't know his name and calling him The Punisher to his face felt weird.

“Frank,” he supplied. You squinted at him for a moment.

“What?” you asked slowly.

“My name is Frank,” he offered easily, his eyes boring into you. You didn't know what to do with the information. You weren't sure if his name was common knowledge or not or if he’d just willingly given you something that could hurt him. But you didn't really care.

“Listen, Frank. Spare me the lecture on mortality, okay? You're standing there with enough money to buy a random stranger breakfast and a coffee, with your nice warm clean clothes and wherever you are, I bet you have a roof over your head. You have no idea what it’s like living this life, the shit I’ve had to do to just survive. So you don't get to stand there and act like I’m some hardened criminal. Because tell me, Frank, who’s the murderer here?” you asked darkly, raising a brow at him. He swallowed thickly, shifting on his feet as he looked away for a moment. You were glad. He had no right coming here and trying to make you feel bad for doing what you needed to just to live. You lost the guilt you used to carry with you for stealing long ago.

He was silent for a long moment and you slurped your coffee. You knew you should eat the food but your stomach churned and you knew soon you’d be throwing up and you hated it. After a while of him seemingly not knowing what to say, he looked you over again.

“You feelin’ alright? Look a little… ill,” he muttered.

“Oh my god. Can you spare me the little sad puppy routine? Stop acting like you care. Thanks for the coffee and everything, but please just go away,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment. You heard him move and your eyes snapped open to find him digging something out of his jeans pocket. He pulled out a piece of paper before crouching next to you. You instinctively tensed and squinted at him as he held out the piece of paper. There was an address scrawled onto it along with a phone number. You didn't make a move to take it.

“We got a place, alright? You need a warm bed or… or food or whatever. You can just… come to us. Whatever you need,” he murmured, that stupid pitying look on his face. Your jaw ticked as he placed the paper on your lap when you didn't take it from him. You wondered if he was stupid. Wondered if this was their secret lair, the base of their operation that he’d just handed to you. You didn't know much about the pair of vigilantes, it wasn't like you owned a TV to watch the news, but you’d caught snippets whenever you were at Josh’s. You knew it wasn't just the two of them, though they were the leaders. But they had a whole group and the news called them soldiers. You could easily hand this to the police and you both knew it. You wouldn't though. As much as they were assholes to you the night before, you knew they did good on the street. Made it safer. The streets were very unsafe for anyone homeless, especially a girl like you. Especially in your condition. You’d wasted away out here and your little problem hadn't helped that issue any. There was nothing to you anymore and you knew just how cruel these streets could be. The statistics of homeless people murdered each year were sickening, the number of them going missing even worse. Because homeless people weren't viewed with the same lens everyone else was. They weren't seen as people. People thought they could do what they wanted to someone on the street because they had no one to care for them, no people to miss them when they were gone. Not even the police cared. People were conflicted when it came to the vigilantes. Most people thought they were a good thing, getting rid of crime and doing what the police couldn't or wouldn't do. But the NYPD weren't happy with having their toes stepped on, being made to look bad. And they’d called in the CIA and FBI to help catch the crusaders. It could be dangerous. Make other people feel bold enough to turn vigilante themselves and wind up hurting someone innocent or hurting themselves. It got messy when people thought they could take justice into their own hands. You glared at the paper for a moment, not knowing what to say. You didn't want his pity. You needed the money he’d taken from you but you knew you weren't getting it back.

“My number’s on there… if you ever need anything, need help… give it a call,” he sighed when you didn't speak.

“With what? My invisible cell phone?” you snorted derisively. You couldn't help it. He’d annoyed you and now he was trying to help you. No doubt felt he needed to save you or fix you. You were beyond fixing. He gave you a look for a minute before he rummaged in his pocket again, placing 50 cents with the paper on your lap.

“Use a payphone if you need to. I’m just trying to help,” he murmured sadly.

“Well I don't need your help, so go away,” you muttered with a frown. He nodded, not looking happy about it but at least doing what you asked as he stood. He gave you one last lingering look before leaving the alley and you felt yourself relax a small amount. As much as your pain-riddled body would allow you. You picked up the paper, recognising the address as an abandoned industrial estate. You knew it because homeless people would once go there. You knew you should throw the paper out, never planning on using it. But something tugged at the back of your brain and you sighed, slipping it with the 50 cents into your pocket.

A few hours after Frank’s visit, you were lying unmoving, staring at the ceiling as Josh moaned above you. You felt nothing but a hollow emptiness as he rut into you, jostling your body a little. You knew you would end up here out of your desperation. But as your symptoms got worse, you couldn't hold out any longer. You couldn't go through full withdrawals, not again. You’d stupidly tried to get clean two years back. Decided your addiction was costing you far too much and making you ill. But going cold turkey when you're out on the streets is impossible. When you have no one to take care of you, help you through it. No safe space to go through something so traumatic. You hadn't lasted a day until you’d caved. After a large groan, he pulled out of you, taking off the condom and tossing it carelessly into the wastebasket near the bed. He padded off into the bathroom and you sat up, picking up your clothes as you started to dress yourself. You didn't feel upset. Didn't feel shame. No, that would come later. Once you were dressed, he came back in with a sly smirk, holding out the bag to you. As you made a move to grab it, he pulled it away with a wicked smirk.

“What do you say?” he asked with a raised brow, looking smug. You wanted to hit him. Wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face. But you knew what he was like, learned that lesson the hard way and he’d broken your nose for your troubles. You clenched your jaw, right eye twitching.

“Thank you,” you ground out, feeling the prickle of shame start to eat at you. You hated that you’d been reduced to this. All by the shit that was in the bag he was holding. His smirk widened and he let you take the bag. You didn't wait around before you scurried out of his apartment. You’d have enough to last you a week. That's how it usually went.

You rushed to the shit hole that was your ‘home’, your hands trembling with the need to use. You sat on your makeshift bed, opening the bag quickly. You grabbed the piece of paper Frank had given you before carefully tipping some of the powder onto the back of your hand. You rolled up the paper before snorting it hurriedly. You’d never injected it. Back when Josh first approached you and tried to convince you to use it, how it would make you feel better, you’d told him you didn't want to get addicted. He’d promised you that you wouldn't. You couldn't get addicted if you snorted it. He’d lied. The only real difference between snorting and injecting was the fact it took between 5 to 10 minutes for the high to kick in compared to the instant results of injecting. You felt an instant relief that was more mental than the substance, knowing you finally got what your body needed. You moved to lay down, waiting for it to kick it. It never quite hit the same as when you first started using. You still got high and it helped numb you a bit but you never felt the euphoria you once felt. You’d used for too long, your body had gotten used to it. You’d slowly been having to use more and more as time went on to even feel high at all. You slowly started to feel the effects of the heroin take its hold and you closed your eyes with a breath of relief. At least you’d sleep tonight.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine

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