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gretavangroupie · 2 months

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The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 19.8k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Protected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

The heat of your breath is fogging up the windows of the van as you drift in and out of a dazy snooze. The morning has already been long, with a wake-up time of 3:30AM to be on the van to the airport by 4:00AM. The flight to Amsterdam from Hamburg was short, only a little over an hour long, thank goodness. However, now all you can think about is getting checked into your hotel room and crashing back out for a couple of hours before you have to wake up again.

Paul, Wes, and Corri are occupying the seats toward the front of the van, and you’re thankful you can let your head rest on the window in peace. Your AirPods are stuck in your ears with the volume just loud enough that you could hear if one of them spoke to you, but still enough to fully enjoy the music floating through your ears. You don’t even dare listen to the playlist Jake made for you, it almost puts a sour taste in your mouth just looking at it, especially after what happened last night.

Of course Josh caught you. Of course it had to be him. But what is really still throwing you for a loop is why Josh felt he had to keep the encounter such a secret, locking his lips and doing away with the key.

Jake hadn’t said anything about your last addition of ‘High and Dry’, but you chalked it up to him just wanting to diffuse the situation after you left the bar, alone. You thought he might walk you back, given the situation you’d found yourself in just two nights prior, but he didn’t. He stayed, and let you go. And thankfully you’d made it back safely by yourself.

The more you think about it, the more you realize Jake had plenty of time to text a quick ‘Sorry about that’ or ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, goodnight…’ but he didn’t. Again. Just left you….high and dry. And what made it even worse was that as you were trying to fall asleep in your hotel room last night, you heard the faint sound of the song playing out in the hallway. Jake was coming back to his room, listening to the song you added for him as he meandered closer and closer. But instead of a knock on your door, all you heard was the latch of his closing.

You find yourself feeling a little pissed off, because the moment you shared in the dark bathroom really felt like something. It was…very fucking hot, if you’re being honest. He felt good. He felt strong, and sturdy, but also gentle and delicate when he needed to be. You can almost still feel how he felt between your legs, pressed up against you as you sat on the edge of the sink. His hands on your back, mouth on your neck, fingertips digging into your thighs….

“Y/N! Let’s get out of here!” You hear Corri’s brash voice wake you from your rated-R daydream, and you have to blink a few times to get the image of Jake all over you out of your head. You stretch a little and pull the music from your ears as the cab light comes on, and the four of you exit the van. You check into your far too luxurious hotel room, and crash onto the bed without even bothering to change your clothes.

—

Your alarm startles you two hours later, and surprisingly the cat nap has you feeling extremely refreshed. You jump from the bed and pull the curtains on the window, showing you the scene of a cloudy Amsterdam from your fourth-story room. You can feel the cold air moving through the window, and you know it’s going to be another bitterly chilly day.

After a quick rinse-shower, you sit back on the bed to check your phone and emails and see you have a text from an unknown number from just ten minutes ago.

Unknown

9:02AM: Hey! We’re going to go see the city and walk around a little, you want to go?

You deduce that it is probably Mia or Lyla, and you contemplate on whether or not you want to even move from your bed today. But after a little thought, and another glance to the sun barely peeking through the clouds, you decide, why the hell not. You don’t want to see Jake, really, but the regret you’d feel for not seeing Amsterdam while you’re here would probably be worse. You send up a quick prayer that Josh will keep your secret today, and not make things any more awkward than they already are.

You

9:04AM: Hey, sure! I’d love to 😊

Unknown

9:05AM: Cool! We’re leaving in an hour, we’ll meet up in the lobby. Dress warm!

9:05AM: This is Lyla, btw

You

9:06AM: Sounds great, see you in a bit

You lock your phone and stand up to finish getting dressed, adding on a few more layers to your already warm attire. Your stomach churns with nerves, but you’re excited to see the city and maybe get to know the girls a little better. Plus, Ruth is begging you for photos.

Speaking of Ruth…

You grab your phone and pull it from the charging cord, bringing up her contact for a FaceTime call. It rings out, and you press your eyeball directly to the front camera lens.

“Shit, what the hell, cyclops!” She yells as you pull away snickering.

“Why is it so dark in your room?” you ask, realizing you hadn’t even thought about the time difference.

“Because it’s two o’clock in the fuckin’ morning here, dimwit! I answered because you scared me. Are you okay?” she spouts off with her voice cracking from sleep.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine,” you laugh a little as she rubs her eyes in the light of her phone screen. “I’m in Amsterdam, thought I’d give you a rundown but, you need to go back to sleep,” you say.

“Ugh, if I didn’t have to wake up in three hours for work I would disagree with you. Yeah, just text me. Actually no, that will take too long. Send voice memos. Or a video or something.”

You take a quick breath. “I have a lot to tell you, Ruthie.”

“Fuck, seriously? Damn it, just…send something I don’t care. I gotta know. Is it bad news? It’s good news, right?” she goes on.

You roll your eyes a bit as you place your fingers over your mouth. “It’s…a lot. Good and, well not the best. Go back to sleep. I love you.”

“Kay nighty night.” Her last words were said with her eyes closed, and you know for a fact she’s already drifted back off into her slumber.

You plop onto your bed and scroll social media for a few minutes as you try to kill time, feeling your stomach start to growl and grumble against the mattress below you.

Maybe you should you add a song?

No… You’d be seeing Jake in the next little bit, and you were the last one to make contact. This is up to him, if he even wants to. You stand and grab up your long, heavy coat, making sure you have everything you need for the day before taking off to the lobby to grab a quick breakfast and wait on everyone else.

—

JAKE POV

The music swirling through the steamy air comes to a close as you spin the handle on the shower faucet, the water slowly trickling to a stop. The song she sent last night has been stuck in your head since you hung up with Isla, and you have let it be the soundtrack to your life in the hours since. You spent nearly the entire shower thinking about Y/N, listening along to the track and letting it seep into your bones. You thought about her, and only her for the past few days now. How you left her last night, and how you have yet to speak to her since. Even the plane ride this morning was spent in silence. You knew you needed to answer her song, say something to explain yourself. You were going to, you just had to figure it out, and now that you had time to sit down and think about it, uninterrupted, you would.

Get out, dry off, get dressed and answer her. You had a plan, and you were sticking to it.

You step out of the large walk in shower, wrapping the fluffy white towel around your waist. You take a second to look at your surroundings, remembering how only a few years ago you were all bringing towels from home, feeling lucky enough to shower in a rundown Motel 6 bathroom in the middle of nowhere. Your life had changed drastically in a matter of years, and it wasn’t long into that success when you first met Isla.

She was a vision of auburn hair as she swept through the bar that night, so light and so carefree. You could see why Lyla and Sam had befriended her, her personality very much the same as theirs. It wasn’t long after that night that the two of you started seeing each other, things quickly becoming serious. A year later she moved into your house. It was like she was always there, making the space her own and sharing her days with you. She was with you as the band really started to make moves, never once complaining about the late nights or the long stretches of tour, that is, until she did.

Things started to change last summer. The once light and vibrant girl you fell in love with had become catty and accusatory, her light burning out and her desire to be something other than your girlfriend dwindling away to nothing. It became her, consumed her, and suddenly you became an accessory instead of a partner. Nothing seemed to satisfy her anymore, and the time you could give her was never enough. She reminded you of that, often, as if there was anything you could do to change it. You fought like cats and dogs on any given day, each argument always ending in a band-aid resolution that never got you anywhere.

There were the big ones, the ones that would have you on the couch at Josh’s or in the guest room at Sam’s. The ones they didn’t ask about because they knew better, instead opening their homes and lending their liquor cabinet. The ones that you didn’t dare mention, even months after the fact, for fear of starting it all over again. Those fights started to get closer and closer together, until you found yourself almost needing to chip in for your brothers’ mortgage payments.

You knew it was done. You knew it was over, but the problem wasn’t that you couldn’t do it. No, the problem was that every time you would try, it wouldn’t stick. Listening to her tell you that your reasons were never good enough, or that it would be too hard to end things before you left. It was always before you left, and this time was no different.

Your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter snaps you back to reality, watching as it slowly inches its way closer and closer to the edge. You snatch it up as your hair drips down your back, sliding your finger across the glass as you scoff at the name on the Caller ID.

“Hello, Josh.”

“Oh, so they didn’t invite you either? Assholes…” he grumbles under his breath.

“Invite me where? Who?” you ask, making your way back into the room.

“Sam and Daniel, and the girls I guess…” he pauses, “Just checked their location to see if they wanted to get brunch and they fucked off into town without us. Not even an invite.”

“Really?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to check your texts. “Shit, yeah, I didn’t get a text from them either. Though, I did tell them I was gonna catch a few more hours of sleep when we got here. Can’t you just go with Ty?” You groan, knowing you really planned to stay in your room all day and binge watch Criminal Minds.

“No. He went for a massage a little while ago, so now you have to go with me,” he says matter of factly.

“Do I? I don’t think I do, actually.”

“No, you do, it’s in the rule book,” he answers, an air of playfulness in his voice.

“The rule book…Don’t think I got one of those,” you joke, pulling on a pair of boxers.

“Yeah, they give it to the head twin, you know, the first one out,” he laughs. “I’m in charge, the book says so, and I say brunch with a Mimosa. If you’re good I’ll even get you a Bloody Mary, my treat. Meet me downstairs in like fifteen,” he says, ending the call before you even have a chance to decline. Fucker, he knew you too well.

You quickly dress yourself, checking your phone no less than five times just to see if maybe she had said something, but still there is silence. Your plan has officially gone to shit, no surprise there. You promised yourself you’d do it when you got back. No excuses. You huff out a sigh as you spray your cologne, grabbing your wallet and your phone and shoving them into your coat pocket. You make your way downstairs to meet Josh, finding him lounging in a wingback chair nearly double his size.

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” you offer, watching him spring out of the chair, his white Nike’s scuffing loudly against the marble tiles.

“Did you text Dean?” you ask, pushing open the glass doors.

“Yeah, the place I want to go is just a block away, said to call him if we need him but keep our wits about us. Told him I would, but can’t speak for you since you don’t have any.”

You stop walking and start to turn around, definitely not in the headspace for his antics today. He stops too, and you feel him grab your arm and sling you back in the right direction.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, no games today, got it,” he says, feigning guilt.

You walk in silence the rest of the way, ducking into a little cafe with a heated patio. You felt like you hadn’t seen the sun in days and both of you quickly agree that the patio might be your only chance.

Your eyes scan the menu, looking for any words that seem familiar to you. You’re about half way through it when Josh pulls your menu down and looks you in the eye. You know what he wants, and you know you have to tell him, but you need a drink first, at the very minimum.

Saved by the bell your waiter comes to your table, taking your drink orders and rushing off before you could blink.

As expected the grilling starts, and much to your dismay you are alone on the patio with no chance of anyone hearing the two of you bicker.

“Alright Jake, I let you sleep on it. Time to talk,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest.

You rub your hand over your face, truly not knowing where to begin. You let out a sigh, and he seems to pick up on your inner turmoil.

“Start wherever, but I would probably choose the beginning.”

You move your fingers to your lips, looking at him with challenging eyes “What is it exactly that you want to know, Josh? I mean–”

“Cut the shit, Jake. What is going on? I want everything, top to bottom, now,” he snaps, aggression present in his tone.

“You’re mad for no fuckin’ reason, Josh!”

“No, I’m mad for great reason, Jake! You’re out here fucking around with our runner, two days into the tour mind you, while your girlfriend is back in Nashville living in your home!” he seethes, his fists clenched tightly on top of the white tablecloth.

Your blood is boiling as he finishes his tirade. “Knock it the fuck off, you know damn good and well she is not my girlfriend anymore!”

“Do I? Do I, Jake? Last I heard, you were ‘easing off for a little bit’...” he replies, gesturing air quotes.

“Do you honestly think that I would have been living in your house for the last month if we were ‘just ‘easing off’? You retort, gesturing the same air quotes.

Josh sits back in his chair a little, his aggression backing off just a little bit, enough for you to keep talking. “Explain.”

You blow out a breath of frustration, “She doesn’t get it, Josh. I can’t seem to get it through her head.”

“What?”

You bite your lips together before you answer, “I have tried to end things no less than five times in the last few months. There’s always some reason… Always something that…Fuck, I don’t know. It just never sticks. She won’t hear it,” you pause, “I was serious this time though, Josh. I told her point blank, I do not want to be together anymore. It was like I was speaking fucking Latin, she refused to hear me. We were up the entire night arguing, man. It’s… It’s just so done, and I’m the only one who can see it apparently.”

“So if she won’t accept it, you’re still technically together, though? She’s still in the house?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his beard.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess? But also, No? The only way I could get the fuck out of that house in time to make it on the plane, was by agreeing to a ‘break’. But it’s not a break. I’m done, she knows I’m done. Told her she could still live in the house for a bit until she found her own place, but I told her, point blank, we needed to separate. No contact. You can see how that is going for her.”

“Does she know that you are…you know, seeing other people?” he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

“Am I supposed to care? We aren’t together!” you argue.

“But you kind of are Jacob!” he spits, “Look, I’m not trying to like, take her side here or whatever, but if she is under the impression you two are only on a break, I highly doubt she would be okay with you seeing other people. You’ll be labeled a cheater and god knows what else if she catches wind.”

“This is the messiest shit I have ever been a part of. I swear to god…” you groan, rubbing your hand over your face. “I seriously never thought I would find myself going through something like this.”

His brows pinch together in confusion, “So why didn’t you just say straight up, I want to separate, please move out of my home?”

“I mean, I kind of did, I think. It’s so much more complicated when you’ve been together as long as we have. We’ve had the exact same argument hundreds of times, that’s no exaggeration. She lives with me, man… I can’t just expect her to move out overnight, ya know? Which is why I agreed to the break. To give her time to…Get her shit together, I guess. But she knows I’m out. She has to know.”

“But she is still calling and texting you daily?” he asks.

“All fucking day everyday. I never reply, and she still continues. As if– as if nothing ever happened. Like I said, she is just not getting it,” you explain. “Every time I would come stay at your place, she would just… come up with some reason, or some excuse to get me to come home for a few nights. We would just bandaid the problem, until it just exploded again and I’d end up back at your house or at Sam’s. But I had to be careful at Sam’s because Lyla is her best fuckin’ friend. You’d think she would have caught the drift after so many nights of me crashing there that things weren’t good. I don’t know, I hate this shit, I have suffered long enough. I want out. And I fear that when we get home, I might have to take more drastic measures. And I don’t want that shit, either.”

“So things are a lot worse than you initially led on…” he states, shaking his head as he sips from his glass.

“Yeah, I guess so. Shit’s embarrassing, man. It’s rocky as hell and I don’t know what to do. I obviously still care for her as a person, but I just can’t do this with her anymore. I thought this time and space away from each other would help me get my head right and find a way to sort this shit out, but it seems like it’s only gotten worse and even more complicated since even a month ago, before we ever even left,” you continue.

“And now there’s Y/N…” he grimaces, truly starting to understand your predicament. “I mean, it’s really only been, what, two days?”

You let out a sigh and shake your head, “Yeah, yeah. But I can honestly say that I have felt more in the last two days for Y/N than I have felt for Isla in the last year.”

“Do you think maybe… She’s…just a distraction from your real feelings? Like a space filler type of thing while you figure out shit with Isla?” he asks, broaching the subject very gently. “To be fair, I don’t blame you at all, she’s really gorgeous and a lovely girl from the little I’ve talked to her.”

“I know it looks that way, trust me. I do. But, no… It’s something else. I know it's only been two days, but there is something there, and I have to explore it,” you admit. “Like I said, I feel things I haven’t felt in so long. Not just physical things, either. And yeah, I know she works for us, and shit, but I– It was about two minutes into that plane ride that I knew it didn’t matter. I had to get to know her.”

“Answer me this, do you still love Isla?” he asks, leaning his elbows onto the table as he gives you that horribly painful twin stare that you both can only give to one another. The kind that pulls the truth from you no matter how badly you might not want to admit it.

“I mean, I love her as a person, but no, I haven’t been in love with her in some time,” you confess.

“In your mind is there any chance of reconciliation?”

Your mind flashes through a hundred scenes of screaming fights, thrown objects, tears and accusations, “No. Not anymore,” you pause, rubbing your lips. “A week ago if you asked me that, I might have said maybe. It would be so easy to fall back into the good routine we had, everything would be good again for a little while at least, but it would change and we would be back to where we are now. Endless fuckin’ cycle. I can’t do that my whole life, Josh. I don’t deserve that. I was so excited about this leg of tour, just because she wasn’t coming. I could be alone and not go to bed mad and arguing every night. Do you know how fucked that is? That is not how I should feel about the person I am supposedly in love with. I should want her here, and I just don’t.”

He nods his head in agreement, sucking his teeth with a hiss.

“Two days with Y/N has proven to me just how unhappy I am in that relationship with Isla. How much I’m just…not in love with her anymore. It only confirms my decision,” you admit.

“So she’s calling and stuff to try and keep you strung along… So that you’ll come home and pick right back up on this nasty cycle the two of you are in…” he questions.

“Basically. Which is why I refuse to engage with it. She can text all she wants, I’m not answering her,” you snap. “Things aren’t black and white for her, they are very gray and for me they are stark white. I don’t know how to make it more clear.”

He drops his head and looks up at you as he leans on his elbows again, “Look, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I won’t say anything to anyone about last night, or whatever is going on with you and Y/N. I want you to be happy, and I can tell you haven’t been in a long time. I’m just really sorry I was such an ass. I wish you would have talked to me, you know, like we used to.”

“I know, I know. It’s my own pride that stopped me. I just, I feel like I'm on the precipice of being happy again, I just have to keep following it, even if it looks really bad from the outside,” you pause, “Also, you guys have to stop picking on her, she is innocent in all of this. She already thinks you guys don’t like her.”

“Oh, that's just not true, we all like her a lot, you have to tell her we don’t mean it,” he laughs, tilting his head to the side as he tosses back the rest of his mimosa. “Wait, does she know about Isla?”

“No, absolutely not,” you answer a little too quickly.

“Are you… planning on telling her?”

“Honestly, I haven’t really thought that far ahead, I mean, I know I need to. I wasn’t really planning on Isla blowing my phone up day and night. Guess I should have known better, huh?” you laugh, offering him a small smile.

“You need to tell her, Jake. Don’t fuck it up before you even get things started,” he offers.

“Don’t you know that’s my specialty?” you ask, sipping your spicy bloody mary. “I mean, last night is a whole other problem. When you saw us out there I had every intention of leaving that bar with her and taking her back to the hotel. It was all I could think about. But then you were out there with my phone and the shit with Isla. Fuck…I panicked. I just sent her back to the hotel. Left her out to dry like a fucking prick. Haven’t spoken to her since. She probably wants nothing to do with me at this point.”

“No, no I doubt that. She’s probably a little hurt, maybe a little confused, but I think she will come around. I saw the way she was looking at you last night,” he smiles. “But Jake, seriously. You have to tell her about Isla.”

“God, I know it just, why would I even be thinking about Isla when I’m with her? I swear it’s like none of it exists when we are with each other. Everything is easy.”

“Sounds like you found yourself someone special,” he smiles.

“I think you’re right.”

—

HER POV

The morning had been spent walking up and down the streets of Amsterdam, getting lost and finding your way again over and over as you navigated the map app on Danny’s phone. To your surprise, Jake and Josh hadn’t joined you. Just you, Sam, Danny, Lyla and Mia. It felt a little strange at first, and you felt the fifth-wheel anxiety hit you hard as you trailed behind them, the two couples happy and holding hands as you all explored. But luckily, at the last second, Dean joined you on the excursion, insisting that five of you needed an escort.

You’d taken the time to speak to Dean and get to know him a little; he’s a big burly man with cheeks that stay red and a beard and mustache that hide his mouth. He’s middle aged, and a man of few words, but you were determined to break through his exterior just a little bit, seeing as how he is one of your coworkers.

Now, as you all are heading back to the hotel with your arms full of various shopping bags and leftover food cart goodies, the conversation you’d worked so hard to start up with Dean is flowing freely. The two of you converse about the job, about travel, about where each of you are from and how you got hooked up with these crazy four. He’s fairly easy to talk to, and you find yourself very calm in his presence.

“I heard about what went down at the restaurant the other night, Ms. Y/N. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he admits as you watch Lyla and Mia pull the guys into a tiny boutique.

“Oh, no need to apologize,” you respond, a little surprised, “It was no big deal, really. I made a stupid mistake by going out alone that late, I learned my lesson. Just glad Jake was able to come help me out.”

“Still, it’s one of my responsibilities to make sure everyone is safe. Mr. Jacob made it very clear that you’re on that list, too.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and pushes a few buttons before speaking again. “I’m gonna get your number right now, so you never find yourself in a situation like that again.” You nod as you agree, knowing that you should have had his number saved a long time ago. You switch phones with him as you each enter your respective numbers, and he smiles as he locks his, pushing it back into the pocket of his coat. It hits you that Jake must have had a conversation with him.

“We’ve got more security coming, I’m sure you’ve heard. They should be here within the next few days. This is usually a one man job, but… I guess as the band gets more and more popular, these kinds of things just need to naturally grow along with them,” he explains, keeping his head on a swivel as he eyes each of them inside the store. “Turns into a team effort.”

You nod, pushing your windblown hair behind your ear before shoving your freezing hand back in your pocket. “I did hear about that. Bet it brings everyone peace of mind having more hands on deck, especially you,” you offer.

“Mmhm,” he replies, “Most definitely. I’ve met these guys before, think everybody will like them. Real straightforward outfit. I’m their head of security, but with the way this group operates, they’re probably gonna be calling most of the shots, if not all of them.” He sucks his teeth, and you can’t tell if he’s irked or maybe, a little bit relieved to have the help.

“You gonna be alright with that?” you press, hoping you’re not stepping on his toes.

He shrugs one shoulder, and you can see his eyes darting around behind his sunglasses. “I’m only one guy, Ms. Y/N.” His response is blunt, so you decide to leave it at that.

You take a second to browse the boutique, meeting up again with Lyla and Mia and gushing over sweaters and dresses that none of you could ever afford, and for the first time in two days, you’d gone more than half an hour without thinking about Jake. As soon as the memory of him and what happened last night flows back into your brain, you almost double over with a strange anxiety. You pull out your phone again, checking to see if he has texted at all, or added anything to the playlist, but you’re met with nothing. Nothing.

“Let’s go get a drink or something!” Mia finally suggests to the group as you congregate in front of the store on the sidewalk, and everyone agrees. “Danny baby, pull up somewhere to go.”

“Let’s just take off walking again, we passed like fifty pubs on the way here,” he argues, bursting through the group and walking down the sidewalk again. The tension feels like it has dissipated for the most part; you have to admit that at first you were still a little worried that things might be a little strange between all of you. But as soon as you all got a couple of drinks in you, the anxiety melts away, and you find yourself laughing along and fitting right in with them. The girls are really cool, and Danny and Sam together keep the conversation going with ease.

An hour or so later, you’re unlocking your hotel door and stripping the layers of clothing off as you now have gotten a little sweaty from the heat mixed with the alcohol. The sun had popped out a little, only adding to your need for a giant bottle of water, and to relax across your bed. As you scroll social media and flick through TV channels in languages you can’t understand, you find your mind drifting back to Jake again. At this point, you know he isn’t going to text. He isn’t going to call, he isn’t going to add another song. If he was going to, he would have by now. You swallow down the realization, flipping to your back to push a pillow over your face. You think about calling Ruth, but at the same time, you hardly even feel like talking about it.

Just as you're about to scream into the void, you hear a knock at your door. Who in the world? You stand up and adjust your clothing and hair, expecting Corri or Paul to be delivering you some information in person. You unlatch the deadbolt and swing the door open, finding none other than Jake leaning with one hand on your door frame, and the other gripping a single deep burgundy flower.

“Hey…” he mumbles, biting his lip.

“Hey, sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” you fumble over your words, not only because you hadn’t spoken all day, but because he looked so overwhelmingly delicious standing there effortlessly dripping sex in your doorway that you almost catch yourself drooling. Loose, dark slacks, a black button up revealing his chest, his hair freshly washed and still damp around the roots… His skin is still glowing from the heat of his shower, and you can smell his body wash mixed in with that damn cologne he apparently carries with him everywhere. Your eyes flick to the flower hanging loosely from his fingertips before meeting his eyes again.

“I know, I should have called first, ‘m sorry…” he stumbles, pulling his hand from his pocket and swiping it across his nose.

“No no, it’s fine, um… did you need… you wanna come inside?” you weren’t quite sure what to offer at this point; he wouldn’t have shown up if he didn’t want to talk.

He stands up straight now, smoothing his hands over his shirt and then placing them both in his pockets. “No, actually, I came by to see if you would want to go on a walk with me,” he asks, a shyness in his tone that feels new to you. “And to bring you this.”

He extends his hand, offering you the dark red flower, multi petaled and fragrant. “Saw it earlier at a flower stand and I…I don’t know, I thought of you. Thought you should have it.”

You accept it from his fingers, bringing it to your nose to take in its earthy smell, “It’s beautiful, what is it?”

“It’s a Dahlia, I believe. The vendor said it was a Black Dahlia, but it looks dark red to me. I don’t know, I just thought it was pretty. Thought of you.” he smiles nervously. You stare at him as you twist the flower under your nose and think about his question.

“So, a walk?” you reiterate, finding the idea both exhausting and appealing, seeing as how you had just gotten back from an extremely lengthy one with everyone else. “I really should stay in tonight, I… dunno…”

“Please?” he asks, squinting his eyes. “Just a short one, we don’t have to go far. I just– I saw something cool today, and I thought you might like to see it, too. Wanna show you…”

You huff a little as you lean your head on the edge of the open door. His eyes are pleading, and you can tell there’s more to his little plan than simply showing you something.

Maybe he wants to talk. Maybe he wants to explain things… sort it all out…

“Okay. We can go. But, I have to get dressed first,” you say, already dreading putting all those layers back on, but not feeling so bad about it because now you’ll be with him. You feel a little reluctant, the pissed-off feeling you’d had all day still lying heavily present in your mind. But, he’s making an effort, at least…

“Take your time. I’m just a floor up, 507,” he starts to back away, the tiniest satisfied grin forming on his face. His eyes travel up and down your body so fast you almost miss it. “Just come knock when you’re ready.”

You close the door as he rounds the corner to the elevator, and you can’t help but feel that rush of nerves fly up your body again. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, he came to your door. With a flower. God, what a gentleman. You place the flower on the dresser, your heart pounding at the sweet gesture. You rush into the bathroom to freshen everything up and spruce your tangled hair, brushing some powder across your face and adding a little more mascara. You re-apply your favorite perfume to your wrists and neck, taking a little extra time to make sure you looked presentable in the full-length mirror on the wall.

When you feel as if your appearance is as good as it's gonna get, you sit on your bed, wanting to make Jake wait for you just a little bit longer. You go ahead and pull up a facetime call with Ruth, waiting for the tone to ring out.

The screen opens with Ruth holding up one finger, mouthing for you to hang on as she finishes out what looks to be a very annoying phone call with a client. She spins in her chair as she rolls her eyes, letting her head look at the ceiling as she uses her formal, professional voice to end the call.

“...You have an excellent day, ma’am. Mhm. Thank you, Buh-bye,” she presses a button on her phone and rips her headset off, fumbling for her airpods as she picks up her phone. “Oh my GOD today has been insane and I hate everything,” she complains as you watch the screen fill up with her face, and you hear the sound of her acrylic nails tapping all over her screen. You patiently wait, watching her loudly chew her gum, knowing that she has to clear away her notifications before she can even begin to have an uninterrupted conversation with you. “Okay I’m ready what the fuck has happened?!”

You laugh, giving her the rundown of everything that happened since you last spoke, her facial expressions letting you know she is hanging on your every word. “...And now, he just showed up at my fucking door, and asked me on a date, I guess? After basically dry humping me in the bathroom then sending me home without another word,” you finish, whispering your words as if he could hear you. “I dunno, Ruth. Should I even go?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Yes you should go. Give him a chance to explain, at least. He wouldn’t have shown up to your door if he didn’t really want you to come, ya know?” she says, immediately noticing her word choice, and slyly smiling as she bounced her eyebrows.

“Shut the fuck up. Ugh, yeah, you’re right. Does this outfit look okay?” you stand back and flip the camera around showing her yourself in the mirror.

“Slayyyyyyyy that jacket is hot, where on earth did you even get it?!” she rolls her eyes.

“From you. For my birthday. When you found out I was going to a colder climate,” you laugh. “Okay, I'm gonna go, I guess. I’ll text you later.”

“Live updates, please. I want to know the way this man ticks,” she teases.

“Shut up. Bye.” You end the call and grab your purse, making sure your room key is in your bag. You also make sure to grab the jacket Jake sent you home in last night, not able to bear another second staring at it draped across the back of the chair.

—

“Thought you might want this back,” you say when Jake opens the door, taking the coat from your outstretched hand.

He smirks as he takes it, tossing it behind him to land on some unknown surface. “Looks better on you, but it’s one of only three jackets I brought with me.” You both laugh a little as you make your way down the hall and to the elevator. The whole ride down is silent, with both of you standing at opposite sides, more or less feeling no shame in drinking the other in. His arms and ankles are crossed as the elevator descends, and you can feel his eyes boring into you.

“You look really nice today,” he offers as you exit the lobby and head back out into the freezing cold air.

“Thank you,” you reply shyly, feeling the blush creep to your cheeks. “So do you…” you wanted to gush about how perfectly his hair is sitting around his face, how his shirt and jacket are hanging across his shoulders, how poised he just always seems to be without even trying… but you don’t. You hope to god you don’t run into any of his brothers, or anyone that you work with; coming up with an explanation why the two of you are out alone together again is something you truly don’t feel like dealing with right now. “So where are we going?”

“It’s called The Jordaan. It’s a really old neighborhood, with a canal going through the center. Bunch of little shops and stuff. Did you guys walk this way this morning?” you notice the lilt in his voice.

You shake your head. “No, we went the opposite way,” you answer. It’s quiet for just a minute more as you pass by the crowds and other people on the streets. “Why didn’t you and Josh come along?”

He takes a quick breath. “Eh, we didn’t really receive an invite, honestly,” he laughs, stroking his fingers over his mustache. “Had to be Lyla or Mia’s idea to go, if I had to guess.” He was right, but you still felt bad. “But it was okay, me and Josh went to eat and got to… talk a little without the interruption of the other two. Kinda rare these days,” he smiles, and his knuckles brush across yours just barely. The light touch sends your bloodstream to a raging fire, and you have to stifle down the pull to grab his hand altogether.

The sun is peeking through the heavy cloud cover of the evening, and you find yourself staring at the way Jake’s pulled his sunglasses to sit on top of his head, letting the gleam of the sunlight bounce into his mocha colored irises. He looks you in the eye each and every time he speaks, and commands your complete attention away from everything else around you. You’re pulled into him, letting your bodies barely touch and move together as you walk along. This attraction feels different than the heated, blurry, intense pull you had to one another last night. This feels innocent, even though you both know that it’s anything but.

You turn a corner as you come along to the long line of homes and buildings, multicolored and old in their exteriors but, still holding just the right amount of charm to be an attraction. You catch yourself looking above to see the craftsmanship of them. “Wow…” you exclaim quietly as you peer up at the finely detailed architecture, staring in awe at the shape they are still in. You pull your phone from your pocket and start to take photos, zooming in on the details and making a mental note to send them straight to Ruth later.

You walk up onto a little footbridge lined with parked bikes and people stopped to take photos. Suddenly Jake is behind you, barely resting his chin on your shoulder. “Gimme your phone, let me take your picture,” he murmurs in your ear.

“Oh no, that’s okay…” Before the words can even escape your lips, he’s snatched your phone and started backing up, glancing behind him and back to your phone every few seconds.

“You’re really good at taking my phone away and doing whatever you want with it, you know!” you yell at him in aggravation.

He motions his free hand for you to scoot sideways, and then again for you to stop where you are. He snaps a few, turning the phone on its side to get every angle he can. You stand a bit awkwardly, hating that people are having to stop when they notice they are walking in line of the photo. Finally he finishes and rushes back over to you. “They look good! See?” he says, handing your phone back and swiping through them with you. “Now you’ll have record.”

You walk past a few secondhand shops and stores, and suddenly, something in one of the windows catches your eye. “Oh my god, look at that!” you squeal, pointing to a glimmering red dress sitting perfectly on a mannequin. It isn’t like any dress you’d seen before; it looks vintage, bright cherry red velvet with sewn-in sequins weaved throughout. It’s tight, but not too tight, and short and lacking fabric in all the right places.

“Damn, you should go try it on!” Jake exclaims, obviously agreeing with your surprise at how pretty it is.

“Nah, I shouldn’t…” you say, walking away from the window.

“No, you should, actually. That dress is hot, Y/N,” he says, elbowing you in the ribs. “And I think you’d make it a hundred times hotter.”

You scoff. “Be quiet, no I would not.”

“Prove me wrong, then,” he challenges with a smirk, opening the door to the shop, and holding his hand out to invite you inside.

You step inside, and are immediately greeted by a man dressed in a formal tuxedo. He notices that you are not local during his greeting, and switches to rough English.

“Eyeballing the red number, are you madam? Give me one second, I’ll grab it off the mannequin for you,” you and Jake lock eyes as the man flits away, straight for the window. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation and gives you a grin so adorable you almost melt into putty right there in the store.

“Here you are ma’am, please, be careful, very old dress,” he explains, handing you the dress on a hanger and opening a curtain for you to go behind.

“Go ahead,” Jake mouths, pushing you into the small dressing room.

You stand almost naked in front of the mirror as you slip the soft, tight fabric over your thighs, your stomach, and finally over your shoulders. Jake was right, it fits you perfectly. The velvet material snatches your waist and bust, and cuts right above your knee. Its sequins shimmer in the overhead light, but aren’t so overwhelming that it looks showy. It’s something you could dress up, or dress down. You reach behind you and pull the zipper up only halfway. Of course.

You take a deep breath and pull the curtain back, finding Jake to have taken a seat on a plush maroon ottoman. His jaw drops as you walk toward him, and yet again, you feel the heat rise in your face. You continue walking toward him, turning at the last second with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side. “Finish doing me up?” you say, immediately realizing that could be taken in a way you didn’t really mean. But also kind of mean, if you’re being honest.

You hear him swallow and he stands, and feel his warm hand slowly grip the zipper and pull it up, his other hand resting gently on the back of your hip, this thumb barely squeezing at the muscle. He takes his time, moving the zipper at the slowest pace imaginable. “Everything alright back there?” you whisper over your shoulder, hearing your own voice tremble.

You hear the air push from his nose as he leans in a little closer. “Just taking my time… might be the only time I get to touch you this way…”

Your eyelids flutter closed at his words. You lick your lips, trying to calm your second heartbeat. “What makes you think this will be the only time?”

He finishes the zip, spinning you to turn and face him. He shrugs one shoulder. “Just don’t wanna get my hopes up,” he growls. “Take that as a compliment…if you wear that out in public, I wouldn’t stand a chance against the hordes of guys that would be following you around.”

You scoff at him, and the absolute absurdity of his statement. He has no idea how pretty he is, does he?

“Shh. That’s a lie,” you say as you turn back and motion for him to unzip you. He does, this time with a little more haste. You make your way back into the dressing room and switch back into your clothing, hanging the beautiful specimen back on the hanger the man had provided you with.

“What? You’re not getting it?!” Jake stands as you make your way back toward the employee.

“No, Jake! I can’t buy that! It’s too–”

“Perfect? Because you looked… I–I can’t even explain… You have to get it, Y/N,” he argues.

You hand the dress back to the man in the suit. “No. I wouldn’t even have anywhere to wear something like that…” you go on, internally screaming at how badly you really would like to have it.

“Let me get it for you, then,” Jake says. “It’s not even that expensive…”

“NO!” you squeal. “I mean, no thank you. Please, Jake. It’s completely fine,” you say as you begin to walk toward the exit. You simply could not let him buy this for you. No. Huh-uh. Absolutely the hell not.

He reluctantly follows you out of the store, still playfully going on and on about how you just made a huge mistake. You turn and face him, your face only inches from his. You grab both of his hands in yours, snickering a little at the surprised look on his face. “Jake, I appreciate the compliments, but I’d really like to get on with our date, now.”

JAKE POV

Her words send a shockwave through your system. “Date? So it’s a date now?” you ask, your hands cupped in hers as he looks you in the eyes.

She turns and begins walking again, and you have to physically tell yourself to move your legs and follow along. “You came to my door, asked me to go on a walk because you wanted to show me a certain specific special thing… now we’re exploring and talking and trying on dresses, I’d qualify this as a date,” she turns and gives you a teasing look of intrigue. “Just missing the food part, but I think it would still count.”

A smile comes to your lips as you realize she’s right. “You hungry?” you ask, finally catching up with her.

“No, I’m just kidding. Let’s go down to the riverside,” she points a little ways away, seeing that there is a sidewalk that runs alongside the water.

You stuff your hands in your pockets as you trudge along, the two of you taking in the scenery and the water beside you. The air is still blowing cold, but neither of you seem to mind. “So if we’re gonna qualify this as a date, maybe we should get to know each other a little better,” you suggest, earning a scoff from her.

“Seems a little backwards seeing as how we kinda already–”

“I know, I know,” you laugh. “Um, let’s see. Did you play any sports in school?” you ask.

“I played volleyball all four years, golfed with my dad on the weekends sometimes when he was around… Other than that, not really,” she explains.

“Shit, don’t tell Danny you like golf,” you go on. “He’ll capture you in a week-long conversation and then ask you to go play a round in every country we visit,” you laugh.

“Ummm, what’s your favorite holiday? And you can’t pick Christmas…” she says, pushing her pointer finger into your shoulder.

“Hmm, so, I think it’s a tie between the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving, because in July we’re always out of the country somewhere really beautiful, or we’re all at home blowing shit up together. I’m always really happy that time of year. And then Thanksgiving, because I will eat the fuck out of mashed potatoes any chance I get,” you say.

She laughs again, the sounds of her voice making your insides warm. “Your answer was better than mine!”

“Let’s see… What's your best friend’s name?” Noticing that she hasn’t really mentioned anyone.

“My best friend’s name is Ruth, we’ve been friends since elementary school. She’s… a complete idiot,” she laughs. “We still talk pretty much daily about anything and everything,” she explains. “Don’t have any secrets.”

“Oh so, she’s… getting the rundown of your whole European adventure in real time, isn't she?” you ask, wondering if she had been giving her a play by play of the whirlwind last few days you'd shared together.

She purses her lips and squints her eyes as her hand brushes past yours. “Guess you could say that…”

“Damn!” you laugh, feeling embarrassed. “Don’t tell me you included our bar bathroom escapade…”

Suddenly she’s tripping over her words. “I mean... No! I told her a little but like, not details or anything ya know, but she…I–”

“So she knows we almost hooked up but thankfully stopped just in time that my brother didn’t catch things getting too out of hand…” you say confidently, wanting to see the blush rush her cheeks again.

She stops, standing stiff in her place. “Okay, Jake. Caught me. Sue me, shit.”

You continue walking, pulling her along by the hand. “I’m kidding, I don’t care. I hope to meet her one day.”

She looks at you from the side of her eye, “I hope you do, too. Okay, who’s your best friend?”

“You really want me to answer that?” You’re surprised she can’t already tell. “I’ve got three built right in. All three pains in my ass but I love ‘em.”

“How sweet, Jake. Man, you do have a heart under there, somewhere!” she teases.

“Of course I do baby, I’m actually a sweetheart, didn’t you know?” you respond in a very piratical voice. “Alright, favorite music genre. This is the big one, answer carefully…”

“Ahhh, well…” she looks to the ground, truly contemplating her answer. “You already know the Alt-J stuff you added was way out of my normal choice, I actually listen to um, a lot of harder stuff, I guess you could say. Some metal, hard rock, also older country, some psych stuff. It runs the whole gambit,” she laughs, seeming like she was shy to admit it all.

“Wow,” you say. “So like, almost the exact opposite of what we’re into.”

“Kind of, I mean it probably overlaps… I love the stuff you’ve added to the list. And I’m sure there’s a few classic dad rock songs you like, don’t lie…” she smiles.

“Ehhh,” you argue, “Maybe a few…” you feel a sudden slight disappointment in the fact that the two of you probably will not be able to talk music much. But, that’s okay…

“Me and my dad used to go to rock shows a lot when I was a kid. I’ve seen all the country greats a few times a piece. Just something about that sound, you know? Reminds me of home, it’s very nostalgic… I’m sorry, I’m rambling…” she says, brushing the hair from her face as you find yourself enraptured in her words.

“No, no… it’s okay, ramble on…”

Light bulb.

You sneakily pull your phone from your pocket, adding that very song to the playlist, hoping she won't notice right off the bat, but hoping she will understand soon that you would listen to her ramble all day long. As she continues to talk, you can’t help but notice all the ways that she is so different from Isla. Like night and day. She listens to you when you speak, she doesn’t ever come at you with condescending words unless she’s being playful, she is sure of herself, and confident…and gives you that feeling down deep in your gut that tells you she’s something special. Though you’ve only known her a few days, it’s already obvious that she offers every single thing that Isla doesn’t, never has, and most likely never will. Instead of the uneasy, walking on eggshells feeling that you have everytime you’re with Isla, you get the confident, self-assured and joyful feeling in Y/N’s presence. And something is telling you to hold onto it.

Speaking of Isla… you really need to tell Y/N about her. It’s only right. It isn’t fair to her that she doesn’t have a clue, you wouldn’t have wanted to be left in the dark if the roles were reversed. You swallow, opening your mouth to start the conversation without having a clue where to even begin. But your thoughts are interrupted by Y/N’s sweet voice bringing you back down to earth again.

“I know you bargained for a short walk, but what if we went up there to that little pub and see what they have to offer?” she asks, smiling a toothy grin.

Maybe the time isn’t now…

“Lead the way, love.”

—

HER POV

Warm. Everything is just so warm. Your body, your face, his smile. Warm. The room is a dull hum of noise around you, your world growing still as he sits in front of you. You watch him in wonder as he talks about music and his passions, your face propped up on your fist. You know you must look positively smitten, and to be honest you kind of are. The two of you are giggling back and forth, even though nothing is really that funny. But that was the beauty of it. You can tell you are blinking slowly and try to reign it in as the nearly half a liter of beer swirls through your bloodstream. You can’t help but smile at him while he talks, his eyes locked on yours as a smile stretches across his own face.

You wonder how he is even able to hold a conversation right now, your brain reduced to mush as you continue to sip on your beer. He’s happy, you can tell, a dimple has appeared in his cheek and hasn’t left in nearly an hour. You can’t stop looking at it, at him. Everything about him. The twinkle lights over head have cast a perfect yellow glow on his tan skin, just as the sun starts to dip down below the river the two of you walked here from.

“You still with me, beautiful?” he asks, his knuckles brushing against yours.

“I’m here, but barely.” you laugh, “Why aren’t you feeling the alcohol yet?” you tease, taking a rather large gulp of your beer. You know he definitely has a higher tolerance than you do, but you can tell he is a little more smiley than usual. You place the large glass tankard back on the table as he stares at you, his eyes wide and sparkling.

“What?” you ask, feeling a bit bashful in your drunken state.

“You’re just…so– you’re just really pretty and it makes me feel, I don’t know, shy I guess,” he answers truthfully, biting his lips together nervously.

You feel your chest burst into flames, the heat radiating up your face to your already flushed cheeks.

“I like it when you blush,” he breathes, which of course makes you blush harder. “Like it best when it’s because of me.”

You feel all of your nervousness and anxiety melting away as he looks at you, and suddenly with the help of the beer, you feel brave enough to ask the question that has been on your mind all day.

“Jake?”

He nods his head ever so slightly, letting his fingertips drift across your knuckles.

“Why didn’t you answer? My song, how come you didn’t say anything?” you ask, swallowing down your last bit of nervousness.

He drops his head a little, grabbing your hand in his, letting his thumb skate across your skin. “I searched and searched for a song that I could respond with last night. One that would articulate what I wanted to say, but I just…I couldn’t find one. I felt like absolute shit after you left, Y/N. Really, I did. I fell asleep with that damn song on replay until my alarm went off this morning. It got in my head, and that’s when I decided I wanted to go on this walk today. Make it up to you.”

You stare at him for just a second, letting a smile slowly creep to your lips. He notices and you watch him as he visibly relaxes. He was nervous, too.

His eyes are locked on yours, both of you saying a thousand things with zero words. You let his words sink in, storing away each one until your heart feels a little bit lighter.

“Well, you better think of a good one tonight,” you tease, rubbing your thumb against his.

His phone buzzes on the table top, his eyes flashing down to it, then to you in panic.

“It’s fine,” you nod, gesturing for him to grab it. “I don’t mind, really.”

He picks it up and clears his throat, the loss of his hand from yours stings a little but you know he will do it again.

“From Josh,” he starts reading the message out loud, “Where are you? I knocked on your door and you didn’t answer.”

He smiles and laughs as his thumbs type back a response.

“Oh, another one,” he pauses, “We’re meeting up for dinner, just the guys, in an hour.”

His face drops a little, his eyes looking across the table to you. He locks his phone and sets it back on the table, his hand seeking yours out again.

“We should probably get going if you’re gonna make it back in time,” you offer, taking another sip of your beer.

He lets out a painful sigh, “I don’t really want to. I want to stay out…with you. I see them all the time.”

“No, no, no, you’re in Amsterdam with your brothers. They want to see you. Don’t change your plans around for me,” you insist.

He looks conflicted, you can tell he really does want to stay here with you, but he also knows he needs to meet up with them.

“Well, what about you? What will you do?” he asks, tracing his index finger around your hand.

You smile and shake your head, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll probably just go back to my room and do whatever it was I was going to do before you knocked on the door.”

He smiles and nods, licking his lips before speaking again, “If you’re sure, this is supposed to be me making it up to you for leaving you last night, now I seem to be doing it again.”

“Wanna know a secret?”

He raises his eyebrows in question, ready to hear your answer.

“I forgave you for that about two minutes into our walk,” you smile, squeezing his hand in yours.

—

He walks with you back to the hotel, his hand never leaving yours for a second. His grip is firm and warm, everything you ever dreamed of. You talk about the shops and the sights, and he tries again to convince you to buy that dress, bartering that he was going to have to go back and buy it himself if you refused.

As you step up to the hotel door you pause, turning and looking at him in the glow of the streetlights. “You don’t have to walk me all the way up, I think I can find it.” you tease.

“Alright, well, um, can I text you?” he asks, his tone reverting back to that of a nervous fifteen year old boy.

You feel the butterflies taking flight in your stomach, flapping their wings so hard you feel like you might take off with them. “Yeah, you can text me whenever you want to.”

A huge smile spreads across his face, “Yeah, alright, cool. I’ll um, I’ll text you then.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you answer, watching him stifle back his smile as he steps back a bit, bringing your hand to his lips. He places a soft and gentle kiss to the top of your hand, his cold lips barely grazing your skin, and sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“Won’t be long,” he smiles, stepping away and turning to head back down the street.

—

JAKE POV

You follow the walk route to the pin that Josh had dropped, finding yourself at a tiny pub down a back alleyway of a street. The place is crowded and warm, ambient lights with the damp smell of cigars lingering in the air. You mosy through the crowd, hoping that no one recognizes you and stops you for a drunken conversation or autograph.

Luckily it doesn’t happen, and you find Danny, Sam, and Josh tucked away at a high-top table in the corner. “There he is! Took you long enough!” Danny yells over the loud crowd, the first one of them to spot you.

The other two turn to face you, pulling your stool out for you to take. “Your beer is probably warm, now…sorry,” Sam says, pointing to yet another giant mug of beer, just the same as the one you’d just finished off.

“Fuck, thanks…” you say, tiptoeing to hop up onto the high stool. You simply can’t help the shit-eating grin that’s plastered across your face, even with all the maximum effort you have left in you. You take a large sip, finding the beer to still be fairly cold.

“Where have you been already today? You look flushed and far too jovial…” Josh presses, rubbing his hands together with his elbows resting on the table.

“Cold outside,” you say, shooting him a look.

The bullshitting and argumentative discussions commence as everyone obviously begins to feel their alcohol, and you take the distracted time out to text Y/N, letting her know you made it safely.

You

9:18PM: I’m here, but already wishing I never left

You attach a quick photo of your giant beer, and include the eye-rolling emoji.

Y/N

9:20PM: omg 😂 good luck choking another one down

You

9:21PM: Ye have little faith 🍺

A minute later you receive a photo of her room service sprawled out across the bed in front of her, chicken fingers and fries and some type of dipping sauce. You smirk at how cute she probably looks in whatever outfit she chose to get comfy in, and wonder what she looks like. You notice the TV in the background, and recognize the movie that she has playing.

You

9:24PM: Looks tasty

9:24PM: Damn, is that Wedding Crashers?

Y/N

9:25PM: Yes, I fucking love this movie

You run your hand over your face.

You

9:26PM: That sucks, I quite literally can’t stand that movie

Y/N:

9:26PM: 😱😱😱😱😱😱

9:26PM: You’re insane, this is one of my favorite movies of all time! Why do you hate it!

You

9:27PM: Dunno, not a sucker for cheap comedy I suppose

You’re interrupted by Sam’s snapping fingers in your face. “Hellooooo, Jake, you with us? Tell Isla to leave you the fuck alone, it’s guys’ night!”

You feel your eyes widen at his comment and glance at Josh, who is mirroring your exact expression behind his folded hands.

“Uh, sorry, sorry yeah.” You put your phone down on the table and try your best to be present with them, getting caught up in your normal absurd conversation. Your phone continues to light up and buzz on the table.

“You gonna get that?” Josh asks slowly and quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. You ignore him, finishing off the last bit of your beer that went down exceptionally quicker than you thought it would. Everyone is sufficiently intoxicated, and you have to admit, you’re having a really great time letting loose. The drinks are flowing, and the air is high-spirited all the way around. Danny is taking funny videos of Sam and Josh as they try their hand at some type of trick with a coin and a bottle cap, so you take the second to check your phone again. But what you see brings your serotonin level down just a notch.

Isla

10:12PM: Hey, what’s up?

10:27PM: Why aren’t you answering me babe :(

10:29PM: I miss youuuuu, you never called back last night

10:33PM: Saw Danny’s close friends story, glad to see you having fun ignoring my texts! 👋🏼

10:37PM: Can you accept my location request

10:42PM: I can see your phone in front of you Jake

You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet oh…my…god, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.

“What’s up?” Josh asks, and you turn your phone for him to see. His eyes instantly widen as he reads.

“This…is the shit I’ve dealt with for the last three years. I can’t—” you cut yourself off, feeling your jaw clenching with aggravation.

Josh settles back in his chair. “Fuck, I had no idea…”

“What, what is it?” Sam and Danny basically simultaneously ask, seeing the disdain falling over the both of you at the same time.

“Nothin’, just a sad video,” Josh lies.

You decide to let Isla’s antics roll off your shoulders; you’re having too good of a night to let her whining bring you down. Things with Y/N are starting to heat up, and you find your tipsy self teetering on the edge of risk. You pull her texts up again, finding that she had responded a while ago.

Y/N

9:30PM: You’re crazy, this movie is fuckin hilarious

You decide to change up the game a bit, adding a song that reflects exactly how you’re feeling right now. You scroll through your library and land on it, bringing up the option to add it to your shared playlist. It’s perfect, ‘In the Mood For You’ by The Record Company.

She responds with a text a minute later, a string of five or six laughing emojis. You’re then met with a song addition on her end, ‘Are You Sure?’ by Willie Nelson.

Holy shit holy shit. You feel your stomach get warm and your head starts to swim at the thought of where this could go, where you want it to go. You take a deep breath as the excitement builds in your system, and you can physically feel your body getting warm. You want to scream. Your eyes begin to cross a little as your thumbs hover over the screen, flicking around as you decide what to do.

The next thing you know, Sam is setting another beer in front of your face, this one thankfully much, much smaller than the other one you had just finished off. Mother fucker...Gonna be very drunk.

You decide to skip out on a text, keeping this little game the two of you have going. You pull up the song search, adding ‘No One Else’ by Weezer. Perfect.

Seconds later, you receive a text.

Y/N

10:56PM: I’ll think about it…….

You feel your cheeks grow pink.

Just then another comes through from Isla.

Isla

10:57PM: Ignoring me isn’t going to fix anything, Jacob.

You scoff, shaking your head. You turn the phone to Josh again.

“God, block her fucking number. I’m so serious,” his voice raises a little, laced with a protective tone.

You ignore it, flipping back over to your texts with Y/N, suddenly feeling emboldened.

You

10:59PM: Think about what, exactly?

You lick your lips as you set the phone down, glancing around to see no one paying attention to you all up in your phone again. A minute later, you receive a photo. You click the message and watch as the attachment comes to life.

It’s a selfie of Y/N sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a barely-there black silk pajama set, with the object of the photo obviously the empty side of the bed behind her.

Y/N

11:01PM: You, here.

Son of a fucking bitch, she is gonna be the death of you. You pull your phone up so no one can see the picture, and you take a second to stare at her soft skin in the silk material, her hair a little messy but lying perfectly. She’s smiling just a little, and the dim light is bouncing off her features in all the right areas.

You

11:03PM: Absolutely stunning

11:03PM: Are YOU sure?

Your heart is positively racing, watching as her text bubble pops up.

Y/N

11:04PM: Only if you want to…

As the breath hitches in your throat as you’ve quite literally forgotten how to breathe, you take a second more, starting in on the beer Sam had provided. You lock your phone, trying to make up your mind of how to answer. What to do, what to do…

You finally decide to reply with a bold text.

You

11:06PM: I think I can make that happen…😉

11:06PM: We shouldn’t be much longer

You get dragged back into conversation with the guys, and fifteen or so minutes later, everyone is gearing up to leave. You glance down at your phone a few minutes later, seeing that she hasn’t responded. Weird.

Everyone stands to leave, and the alcohol hits you in the face. Yeah, pretty fairly intoxicated. You exit the building, feeling someone standing behind, close by. You turn to see Dean bringing up the rear of the group. “Whoa, where did you come from you scary motherfucker?” you tease, earning a big, warm smile from him.

“Been sitting at the bar all evening, Mr. Jake,” he responds, pointing for you to catch up with the rest of them.

You rest a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re really good at your job, Dean. I never even knew you were there, should have come and had a drink with us.” You feel your words slurring a bit. Just then, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket incessantly.

“I wet my whistle with a shot of Jameson as soon as we got there, water the rest of the night,” he replies without looking at you. You laugh and step to the side a bit, pulling your phone out to see Isla calling. Fucking son of a bitch. You slide to answer it.

“What, Isla? Fuck!” your tone is a bit more harsh than you had expected, but warranted nonetheless.

Then, all you can hear on the other line is a rush of screams and yells, her voice loud and her words cramming as she lets you know how she feels. You pull the phone away from your ear, holding it there until you find a chance to speak again.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, can you–”

Her screams continue, and you realize exactly how this is going to go. How it’s gone hundreds of times before. She’s not gonna let you speak. And honestly, you’re too intoxicated to talk, anyway. You set it to speakerphone as Josh falls back to walk with you. You shake your head as you allow your twin to listen to her incessant rambling. “You hear this shit?” you mumble. The two of you listen for a second more before you realize you can’t do it anymore.

“Isla, I’m hanging the phone up. Call me when you can have a mature conversation. Bye.” You don’t even wait for her to retaliate before pressing the big red button. In a huff, you bring up your text thread to see if Y/N has responded. Like the gods of divine intervention decided to reign down their bad luck upon you, you find that you had in fact sent those last two risky texts, to Isla.

“FUCK!” you yell, stopping in your tracks, hitting your palm to your forehead. “Fuck fuck fuck!” How could you have been so stupid?! Of course she had a reason to call and yell at you…

Your fingers move to Y/N’s thread, and you see that you were the one who had left her on read. You’re in the lobby of the hotel now, and everyone is dispersing to head to the elevator or down the halls to their respective rooms. You snap away for a second to tell them goodnight, before deciding to take the stairs up to your room. You needed a second, and to work off some of your drunkenness.

You finally pop into your room, feeling completely idiotic for accidentally sending the right text to the wrong number. You splash some cold water on your face, hoping it will bring you back to earth a little bit, but finding it to have only made your splotchy face and tinted cheeks worse. You brush your teeth and take a piss, finally settling on the edge of your bed to think.

Fuck it, you finally decide, bringing up your texts with Y/N once more.

You

11:47PM: I think I can make that happen…

Surprisingly, she responds within the minute.

Y/N

11:47PM: Hey. Thought you had found someone else to sneak away to the bathroom…

Your nerves flush up all over again. We’re still in the clear.

You

11:48PM: Don’t be crazy fledgling. I’m finding you in 5 minutes.

HER POV

Five minutes? Five minutes! You stare at the screen for a few seconds before your brain starts to work again, giving you a mile long to-do list before he knocks on the door.

“What!? What! What does it say?! Hello! Why do you look panicked!?” Ruth asks from the other end of the phone.

“Oh my god, he’s coming to my room. Right now, he’s on his way right this second, holy shit I have to– I have to clean up! I need to brush my teeth, brush my hair? Shit, I can’t be wearing this! Oh my god, shit I do not have enough time!” you screech, tearing across the hotel room to clean up the best that you can.

“Focus on yourself first! He doesn’t care about your messy room! Put on some deodorant for the love of god! Did you shave your legs today?! Wait, did you end up bringing that little black sleep set thing we found?” she asks, trying to help you prioritize.

“Yes! I’m wearing it stupid! Can you not see me?!” you shout, the clocking continuing to tick by.

“Fuck off, it’s blurry! Okay just go brush your teeth, brush your hair, deodorant, then let's work on the room. Hurry up!”

You run into the bathroom, applying deodorant as quickly as possible and checking your legs for stubble. “I shaved this morning, but I think it’s fine.”

“Did you shave…everything?!” she asks, just as panicked as you are.

“Yeah, thank god!” you answer, wetting your toothbrush.

“Okay, game plan, keep brushing, just listen. He’s into you, you’re into him. He’s been flirting with you all night. He wants you babe, and if it were me? Well, I’d do it. I know what you’re gonna say, ‘Ruthie, I can’t give it up on the first date’, blah blah blah, I don’t care, fuck the police. He’s hot, you’re hot, you’re in Europe, and if you don’t sex that man tonight, you might not get the chance to again.” she lectures, giving you a stern look.

You spit your toothpaste into the sink, wiping your mouth and grabbing for your hair brush. You run it quickly through your hair as she continues. “God, I have got to know what this man is like in the bedroom. I am so living through you right now. I expect every detail first thing in the morning. Not noon, not three, morning.”

You grab your perfume from the bathroom counter and hold it up to the camera, “Should I, or too much?”

“Yes, you should, obviously! But don’t overdo it!” she yelps back. You spray the perfume onto your wrists, careful not to spray too much.

“Alright, I feel better, but do you think I should change? Honestly, I feel so…”

“What? Hot, sexy? Drop dead gorgeous? Didn’t have a problem with it when you sent that picture earlier, what's different now?” she asks.

“Well, nothing I guess, I just… He will see me in person. You can see my nipples!” you admit.

“I think he’s gonna see a lot more than your nipples tonight babe, that’s just the appetizer.” she laughs, crunching the ice from her drink.

“Oh my god you are so gross, okay, fine. I just need to clean up the room and little and–”

A knock at the door renders you both silent. You mouth the words ‘oh my god’, as she laughs silently.

“I’ll call you later,” you whisper, quickly ending the call and tossing your phone onto the dresser. You take a deep breath and smooth your hands over the black satin tank top, pushing your boobs up, but letting out a defeated sigh when they drop back into place. She better be right about this.

You blow out a calming breath as you make your way towards the door, twisting the handle and pulling the door open. Leaning against your door frame you find Jake, cheeks flushed and somehow looking even better than he did this afternoon. He’s in the same clothes, and his hair is windblown, but there is something different about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you file it away for later.

You purse your lips in a smirk, “You said five minutes.”

He smiles and nods, “I did, but I had to make a pit stop.”

“What for?” you ask, a playful tone to your voice.

You watch his eyes flick down to take in your appearance, his chest growing as he sucks in a deep breath, “Oh, you know…had to get something,” he pauses, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Did you make up your mind?”

You bite your lips together as you open the door a little wider, “Mmm, I thought about it…”

He steps forward, his foot on the threshold, “And?”

You instantly reach for his shirt, pulling him into the room and crashing your lips into his. He immediately takes control, leading you backwards and kicking the door shut with his foot. His hands have found your waist, sliding beneath the silky fabric of your top and gripping into your skin. He backs you into a wall, letting his warm lips drag across your jaw as his hands continue to explore the soft skin of your stomach. It’s not long before his lips are back on yours, the taste of alcohol still lingering on his tongue.

His knee slides between your legs, parting them just enough to be able to press himself closer to you. Your arms lace around his neck, your hands tangling into his soft hair, as his hips press into yours. The sound of your lips on his is wet and desperate, the two of you devouring each other where you stand. His tongue slides into your mouth in search of yours, the two of you quickly picking up where you last left off.

You can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket as it presses against your leg, an incessant buzz that drags your attention away from his lips.

“You wanna get that?” you ask, whispering against his lips.

“No,” he growls, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Probably the groupchat, I’m tired of them interrupting.”

He pulls the two of you from against the wall, walking you backwards towards the bed as his lips pepper kisses up and down your jaw. He tosses you down towards the bed, the fluffy white sheets pooling around your body. His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you, his cheeks still red from what you thought was the cold, but now know is the alcohol flowing through his system. His chest is heaving as he stares down at you, taking in every single inch of your body. You can feel the primal need radiating from him, and you remind yourself to thank Ruth for not letting your change into something else.

You can hear that his phone is still buzzing, and with a huff of aggravation he pulls it from his pocket and taps on the screen a few times before throwing it onto the nightstand. He drops to his hands, hovering over you as his shirt hangs from his body. You keep your eyes locked on his as you unbutton the buttons, letting your hands run up his stomach and over his chest.

His lips drop back down to yours, this kiss a little slower and a little more intentional, you can feel that he wants you, and you hope he can tell that you want him just the same. He hums against your lips, the evidence of his need starting to show through in his voice. You let your hands push the fabric of his shirt over his shoulders and he assists by tossing it to the floor. His necklaces hang between the two of you, the pendants cold as they rest against your chest.

His hand comes up to swipe at the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it delicately over your shoulder while letting his eyes meet yours. You nod your head just enough to give him permission, letting him repeat the action with the other side.

He brings his palm to rest on the side of your neck, his fingertips brushing lightly against your skin before he drags his palm down your body, pushing the soft black fabric down your chest.

“This what you wanted?” he hums, dragging his fingertips over your sternum. “When you sent me that little picture? Wanted to get me all worked up thinking about you in this? Thinking about you, out of this?”

Your nipples harden just at the sound of his voice, deep and rich, a gentle slur from the alcohol. He is pure sex as you look up from beneath him.

“Might’ve been…” you answer, biting your bottom lip nervously.

“Don’t do that,” he says, pulling your lip with his thumb. “Own it. Take what you want.”

A smirk is planted on his lips, his hair hanging around his face as he looks down at you. You decide to do exactly what he says, reaching down to the hem of your top and pulling it up and over your shoulders. His eyes drop down to your chest, now completely exposed to him, the lust almost visible in his dark eyes.

“Shit…” he breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.

He slots his knee between your legs, crawling forward a little bit more and dropping down to his elbows over top of you. His lips connect with your chest, sucking a long wet kiss into the roundness of the skin. You squirm beneath him, the feeling of his lips on your body more than you can handle in the moment. He drags his lips down your body, stopping as he meets the hem of your shorts.

“Smell so fucking good…You’re so soft, everywhere… Have half a mind to have you like this,” he pants, pressing his lips to your skin again.

“Come back,” you plead, needing to feel his lips on yours.

He moves quickly, grabbing your face with his hand and pressing his lips to yours. You reach between the two of you, your hand unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning the button on his pants. He groans as your hand slips into the waistband of his boxers, gently grazing the stubbly trimmed hair at his base. His eyes flick open to meet yours, almost as if he is surprised you’re doing what he told you to do. You stare at him, waiting for him to tell you to stop, but he doesn’t. You have the answer you need.

You press further, reaching for him, but surprisingly finding him still mostly soft. His eyes widen a little, and his head drops just a touch. You can tell he knows, and it’s caught him a little off guard.

You decide to take matters into your own hands, smiling back at him, “Roll over.”

He looks up, a small grin on his lips as he rolls to his back, landing in the empty spot you photographed earlier. You move to place yourself between his legs, reaching for the top of his pants and pulling them and his boxers down over his legs. He kicks them off and you toss them to the floor, taking in the sight of him completely naked in front of you. His chest is heaving as he looks at you, a grin on his shiny pink lips as he watches you slide your hands up his thighs.

“I know I already told you this, but you’re so fucking pretty I can’t seem to think straight.”

You can feel your cheeks grow hot, the way he’s looking at you and the words falling from his mouth have your heart pumping harder than it has in years.

“And god when you blush like that, fuck…”

You crawl forward a bit more, positioning yourself over him to straddle his waist. You lower yourself to a sitting position, letting him guide your hips to rest your body weight where he wants it. His hands grip into your hips, sliding under the silky fabric still covering your lower half. His thumbs rub circles into your hip bones, your hips rolling on their own accord against his. A hum leaves his chest as his eyes flutter closed, clearly enjoying his view and the feeling of you beneath his hands.

You reach for his hand, grabbing his wrist and guiding his palm to rest over your chest, letting his fingers grip into the soft fullness beneath it. He palms at your breast as you continue to rock your hips over his. His mouth opens just a bit as he focuses on you, slowly bringing his other hand to rest over your other breast. His grip is firm and warm, not too rough. A hum of pleasure leaves his lips every few seconds as he drinks in the moment, but still yet he is considerably soft beneath you.

You lean forward into his hands, letting your lips brush against his neck, your tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up the column of his neck. His grip tightens and his hips buck upward into yours. You’ve got him where you want him now.

You pull away from him, moving backwards on the bed until you are hovering right above his dick. Your eyes flick to his, dark and boiling over with want as you lower your face closer to him. You grab him in your hand, feeling that he is still not truly hard enough to do anything with, but you still had a few more ideas yet.

“Can I?” you breathe, whispering the words against his soft pink tip. You bat your eyes at him, “Please?”

You watch his chest rising and falling quickly, his heart rate sky high as he watches you. “Been dreaming about it.”

You let your tongue glide over his tip, warm against your mouth as your eyes stay locked on his. You wrap your fist around his base and let your mouth sink down over him, running your tongue up the underside of his shaft. You can’t help but wonder why he isn’t rock hard at this point, his body giving you every single cue that he wants you, apart from this one.

His hand swipes the hair away from your face as you take him, feeling him growing just the slightest bit harder as his tip grazes the back of your mouth. You pull off of him just enough to speak, letting your wet lips brush his tip. “That okay?”

“Yes, fuck yes, I just–”

You grip your hand into his thigh as you shush him, “Shhh, I know, I’m not done.”

You take him down again, bobbing your head back and forth at a steady pace as his breathing starts to pick up. His skin is clammy under your hands and his chest is heaving as he watches you take him as far as you can.

Your brain starts to wander as you taste him, his natural musky smell translating to the taste of his skin. Maybe he drank too much? Or maybe you’re just bad at this. He should be hard by now. Maybe he doesn’t really want you like you thought.

A groan leaves his lips and his hips buck up, forcing him further down your throat. “Fuck…”

Okay, that's definitely not it. He has been falling all over you for days, it has to be something else.

His hand grips into your hair as his hips buck upwards again. “Feel so fuckin’ good baby, shit. Perfect little mouth, knew it would be.”

You let your eyes flick up to his, staring at him as his tongue rests between his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but for some reason, it’s just not working. His brow furrows in anger, and you watch as his demeanor shifts, frustration taking him over.

You pull off him, his dick harder than when you started, but still fairly soft. You don’t know how hard he normally is, but it has to be more than this. Right?

“Jake, we don’t have t–”

He shakes his head, “Mmm, you know what? Come up here beautiful, come lay down for me.”

You do as he says, part of you sad to think that maybe you weren’t doing it for him, but you push the thoughts aside, swapping places with him as he adjusts the pillow beneath your head. He bends to kiss you, pulling away for just a second before pressing his lips to yours again much quicker.

“So fucking pretty, all of you. But especially that mouth,” he smirks.

He hooks his fingers into your shorts, pulling them and your panties off in one swift movement. You are bare before him, his eyes widening as he takes you in, finally getting a reaction from his dick. He fists it up and down a few times as he looks at you, “Can I touch you, baby?”

You nod quickly, letting him spread your legs apart with his free hand. A growl leaves his chest as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “So gorgeous, shit…”

His thumb swipes up through your wetness, circling your clit a few times causing you to squirm beneath him.

“Jake…” you gasp.

His eyes meet yours, “Yeah? You like that? You’re so beyond wet, sweetheart.”

Your hips twist and turn beneath his touch, every angle proving to be more stimulating than the last. You whine, a string of curses and muffled versions of his name falling from your lips.

“You…” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “Are everything I thought you would be. More, even.”

“Jake, please, I– I need–”

He pulls away from you quickly, his hand still fisting his cock as he reaches for his wallet on the floor. He pulls a condom from the pocket inside, tearing the foil packet open as he kneels back onto the bed.

“Let me!” you urge, stopping his wrist, “I mean, please, can I do it?”

His eyes flick up to yours in surprise, “Yeah baby, you can do it. You can do whatever you want, swear to god.”

You grab the latex between your fingers, pinching the tip and rolling it over his cock. It's hard enough now that putting the condom on is fairly easy, but you’re positive he was even harder than this in the bathroom last night. You roll it to his base, letting your hand drift back up and over his chest before circling it around his neck. His hands grip your waist as his lips meet yours again, his tongue circling with yours as he moves you back towards the pillows, gently lowering your body to the bed. “Want you so bad, Y/N.”

“So have me,” you breathe, barely letting your lips leave his.

You welcome him between your legs, feeling his hand reach down to fist his base, gliding himself through your wetness. In only a matter of a minute his dick is softer than it was, and both of you know it, but neither of you are willing to acknowledge it.

His phone starts to buzz on the nightstand, both of you looking towards it. He doesn’t pay it any mind, letting it buzz on the wooden table until it stops.

“Look at me, baby, don’t mind that,” he demands.

You feel him press his tip to your entrance, his eyes fixed on yours. He furrows his brow as he presses his hips forward, but you feel nothing. Your eyes flick down between the two of you, finding that he can’t seem to get hard and stay hard enough to get it in. You feel a pang of hurt run through your chest, almost like rejection, but somehow a little worse.

“Jake, are you not hard en–”

“Just give me a second, I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he growls, his attention turning to the still buzzing phone on the nightstand.

“I mean, I can give you head again if you think–”

“No, Y/N, I just– I just need a second, I’ll be fine,” he says. You can hear the anger in his voice, not at you, but at himself.

“Is it me?” you ask, running your fingers up his arm that is next to your head.

“Fuck no. You are everything I want, wet as fuck and gorgeous, no, it’s not you. I want you, I really fucking want you,” he says, stroking himself a few more times. “Alright…”

He repositions himself at your entrance, and this time you can feel him, he’s harder now, enough to slide into you, but still it’s only just enough to slip inside.

Even half hard he is bigger than the last guy you were with, the stretch as he presses into you making that abundantly clear.

“Oh Jesus Christ, you are so tight,” he pants, his dick hardening a little at the tight fit.

You slide your hands around his waist, pulling him down a little further as he starts to move his hips, “Oh goddamn…”

His phone buzzes twice on the nightstand as he starts to pump into you at a steady pace, but you ignore it, letting the overwhelming feeling of him moving inside of you take precedence in your brain.

He groans through closed lips, his brow furrowed in concentration as he slides in and out of you. He rolls his hips as he thrusts into you, a whine leaving your lips as your back arches.

“Motherfuck, you are–” he stops, regaining his composure, “Tightest fuckin’ pussy.”

Your hands grip into his sides as he picks up speed, his hips slamming into yours as both of you start to lose yourselves in the moment. Finally things felt normal, things felt good, way too good. You wanted this, you needed this, and fuck if he wasn’t checking every box you’d ever had.

He cups your cheek in his hand, dusting his thumb over your swollen lips just as you part them to suck it in. You watch his eyes roll back in his head as he starts to pant, and you can tell he is dangerously close to his finish.

You start to speak, ready to change positions but as you open your lips to release his finger, his phone rings, buzzing quickly across the table as the sound plays through the speakers.

“God fucking damnit!” he growls, “What the fuck!”

“Take it Jake, it’s fine, just– answer and they’ll leave you alone.” you urge, looking to the black phone skittering across the table.

“No, fuck no.” he snaps, his hips emphasizing his point. “I’m busy,”

The buzzing stops, and he looks back to you, letting his hand drift down to your chest. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, letting his lips meet yours. His kiss is wet, and desperate, his hips starting to falter as they move in messy strokes above you.

You can tell he needs to cum, his body racing closer and closer with every half hard stroke of his dick. You can also tell he is fighting it, his face is red, and his hairline sweaty. You know it will be seconds, if that, until he is tumbling into his release.

His eyes flick to yours in panic, an almost apologetic look on his face as he breathes, “Baby, I’m, fuck—”

As if right on cue, his phone starts to buzz, the ringtone blaring through the speakers as his hips stutter, slamming into you again as he looks at his phone on the table. His head snaps back to you, sucking in a deep breath of panic as his hips stop, his cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with a guttural moan.

The fucked out look that takes over his face is like nothing you’ve ever seen. Reminiscent of a Renaissance painting, the features of his face twist into such a blissful expression that he almost looks like he’s in pain. He’s beautiful, there is absolutely no doubt about that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just came, way, way too soon.

You are in shock as you lay beneath his panting body, feeling him grow soft inside you once again. He pushes up to his hands nearly instantly, his face riddled with remorse as he realizes what exactly just happened. “Y/N–”

His phone buzzes again, for what has to be the sixtieth time in the last five minutes, a snap of anger washing through you. “Are you going to fucking get that?”

He mumbles a curse under his breath as he pulls out of you, the condom full as he looks at it in shame. He covers himself with his hand as he snatches the phone off of the nightstand and makes his way to the bathroom. You can feel the embarrassment swirling through the air as you hear the sink in the bathroom turn on.

You grab the sheet at your feet and pull it up over your naked, unsatisfied body, trying to wrap your head around what exactly just happened. You try to catch your breath, the sound of your breathing filling the room but quickly drowned out by Jake’s phone ringing. This time though, he answers.

“Hello?!” he shouts, his anger apparent. “Yeah I’ve seen him fucking calling, I have been busy goddamnit!”

You hear the sink turn off and the toilet flush, followed by the sound of his footsteps walking back into the room. “Yes, I will call him, Jesus Christ, don’t ever blow my shit up like that again,” he snaps, ending the call. He pauses as he walks, a hand towel in his grip as he taps his phone screen.

You hear another call ringing out, but this time he's the one doing the calling. He walks over to you with the phone on speaker phone, a look of sadness on his face as he slowly approaches the edge of the bed. He sits next to you and reaches for your hand just as the person answers.

“Hey, man, been trying to call you.” the man's voice says, a tone of urgency present.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I was caught up for a second. What’s up, what’s going on?” Jake answers, rubbing his hand along your arm.

He turns to look at you mouthing ‘guitar tech’ as he hands you the damp towel. You make quick work of it, wiping yourself off but knowing you’ll be taking a shower as soon as possible. You throw it across the room as he snickers, waiting for Johnny to answer.

“Listen man, I’m at the venue, trucks just arrived and we are doing load out. One of the stage left Marshall cabinets split in transit. Wiring harness is fucked. Amp is…the amp is not looking good man.”

You see Jake stiffen, “What?”

“Huge gash in the backside, must have fallen or something, I tried to fuck with the wiring as best as I could, it’s not getting any signal right now, man.”

“Holy fuck,” he groans, standing quickly from the bed and gripping into his hair. “No signal? Did you try a direct line in?”

You cut your eyes wondering how he managed to sober up so quickly in the last three minutes.

“Yeah, even DI there’s no signal, just static. Powers’ on, but she’s DOA. Gonna have Mark take a look at it too, but I don’t have high hopes,” he continues.

“Is there anything we can do? How the fuck are we supposed to get a replacement amp and cabinet by tomorrow?” Jake asks, his voice laced with panic.

“We can make some calls, I know a guy with some leads. What are the chances of you coming down here to take a look at it? Maybe I’m completely missing something, man. Hoping it's a quick fix. Need your signature for the insurance waiver, too.”

“Can it wait until morning?” he asks, a pained look on his face.

“Probably shouldn’t, especially if we are looking for a replacement locally.”

He turns to look at you, and you can tell he is conflicted. You bite your lips together and nod your head. This is his job after all.

He runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh, “Yeah, yeah, I um– I can be there in a bit. I just need to wrap something up here, and I’ll be there. See if you can get in touch with Hamstead, I’m sure they have a loaner we could use for tomorrow at the very least.”

“Will do man, hey sorry about this, I don’t know what happened, maybe it wasn't strapped down or–”

Jake is quick to cut him off, “It’s fine, not your fault. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yep, see you then,” he says, ending the call.

He tosses his phone on the nightstand before dropping his head into his hands. “This night has been…”

He turns to look at you, letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what the fuck it’s been, fuck, I just…”

You can tell he is flustered, he can hardly form a sentence. “Listen, I get it. It’s fine, just go do what you need to do. It’s okay, really.”

He nods as he stands up from the bed, walking around the front to start grabbing for his clothes. He doesn’t say much as he dresses, and he will hardly look at you. You don’t really know why, but you can imagine he is feeling a little bad about himself and his performance at the moment. You still haven't let yourself process what exactly happened with the two of you just now, but you will, soon.

He re-buttons his shirt, pulling his hair up into a hair tie as he lets out a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry about this. I really am, this is the absolute very last thing I want to do right now, especially after… that. But I have to, and I don’t want you to think that I want to because–”

“Jake. I get it. Just go, it’s fine,” you say calmly, hoping he will believe you.

He grabs his phone and his wallet and shoves them into his pants pocket, kneeling on the bed towards you. He leans in to kiss you, but his lips don’t land on yours, instead missing your mouth completely. A new rush of secondhand embarrassment washes through you, and right now you think him leaving is probably the best thing he could do.

He curses himself as he stands up shaking his head in defeat as he swallows back his embarrassment. He walks towards the door with a hand in his pocket, turning to you just before stepping out, “I’ll uh…I’ll text you, I guess, I don’t know, fuck. Have a good night, Y/N.”

The door slams behind him and suddenly the room is silent. No heavy breathing, no pitchy moans, and no ringing phones. Just pure silence.

You stare at the wall for a full five minutes, the muted TV flashing colors against your skin. You can’t conjure a thought. Not a single one. Nothing other than what the fuck was that?

You want to call Ruth. You want to call her and tell her everything, but you also don’t even know what you would say. Something like ‘Hey Ruth, just had the worst two minutes of sex of my life? Oh did I mention he was barely hard? And I couldn’t get him hard? And that his phone rang the entire time? And that he came in two minutes? And I didn’t finish at all? And then he had to leave as soon as he finished? And now I’m sitting alone and naked in my hotel room?’ Yeah, you needed to sit on this one for a minute. Your eyes catch sight of the flower laying on the dresser, now looking a little bit limp and lifeless but still beautiful no less. You feel a pang run through your chest, tearing your eyes away from it so as not to taint that moment earlier with this one.

You rip the sheets from your body and make your way to the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it will go before stepping inside. You let the steaming hot water clear your mind and ease your tense muscles, washing away the scent of his cologne that is lingering on your skin.

You wrack your brain for answers, though you can hardly come up with anything that makes sense. There’s just no fucking way he is actually terrible in bed. We had so much chemistry, the electricity between us was nearly electrocuting you. He felt so good last night. We were so in sync last night. This had to be a fluke, right? You’ve seen him with his guitar on stage, where was that?!

You lather your skin in your body wash, rinsing away the remaining evidence that this night ever happened. After the best afternoon with him, why was he so off tonight? He barely seemed like himself. Maybe he really did have too much to drink.

You tried to put yourself in his shoes. If the roles were reversed and it was your phone blowing up like that, you probably would have been a little distant too. But that didn’t explain why he couldn’t stay hard. That was a mystery to you, and you really hoped to god it was the beers and not you. You know he was so much harder last night, you know he was. You felt it. So what happened between last night and tonight?

Something. You knew that much.

You turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel, letting your mind wander with possibilities, trying to convince yourself that what he showed you tonight was not who he really was. You sat back down on the bed you just shared with him, thinking back to that few seconds where things were good. And it was good, it felt good, he felt good. There was no denying those few seconds. But the rest of it, well, that was still up for debate.

You grab your phone and tap the screen, the display reading 1:02AM. There are no texts from Jake, though you didn’t really know what you expected him to say.

From the little you know about him, when he left here tonight the confidence he naturally exudes was gone, not even in the same building. You knew he would reach out, but only when he was ready and knew what to say. But until then…

You toss your phone on the bed next to you, quickly changing into a clean pair of pajamas and curling back up into the bed. You lay there staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how you are going to handle things tomorrow. You would be with him the entire day, and you didn’t want to make him feel worse than he likely already did.

You go back and forth with yourself until you land on something sturdy: You won’t say anything, you won’t do anything. You’ll act completely normal. The same as you have for the last few days. You decide to tear this page from the book and move forward. This never happened.

Deep down you know there was something holding him back from being fully present with you tonight, but what that is you’ve yet to discover.

—

JAKE POV

The early morning finds you facedown on your bed, still fully clothed, one boot kicked off into the floor, the other still completely on your foot. The sun is far from being up, and you’re thankful that you still have a few hours before its rays beat in through your window. The bustle of the awakening city is loud on the streets below you, and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to stay in this exact position for the rest of the day. For the rest of your life, actually. Maybe, if you bury yourself under these blankets and pillows, everyone will forget about you. Isla will forget about you. Y/N will forget about you, about everything, about last night. It will be like it never even happened. It will be like the most amazing buildup to what could have been a night of pure electricity didn’t take an absolute nose dive into one of the most embarrassing things to have ever happened to you. You’d take tripping on stage a million times over this. Pure. Humiliation.

Yeah, right here, in this bed. Under the pillows. They can’t find you here.

What the fuck even happened?! Whiskey dick was an understatement. It didn’t even begin to explain what you…experienced. Unable to perform for the most beautiful new thing that has happened to you. Everything was perfect, she was perfect… her confidence was enamoring, her head was off the charts good, and fuck, for the few seconds you had things actually going, it was pure ecstasy. She was soaked for you. Her sounds, her face… fuck. It all came flooding back to your brain, even the way she smelled still stuck in your mind. She wanted you, just as badly as you wanted her. Just the thought of it had you standing at attention all over again, at full force this time, though. And you’d let her down.

You sit up and roll yourself over. “Where the fuck were you last night, huh? Let me the fuck down!” you audibly yell at what was happening in your still-belted jeans. You force your face back into the comforter, realizing now that a horrific hangover is on the horizon. Your head is busting in two already, not like you already didn’t feel like shit on a boot.

Staying here, under the pillows until sound check. Right here. Not moving. Hiding.

You know that’s not realistic, though. You contemplate texting her, but what the fuck do you even say? You couldn’t even satisfy her, and ended up satisfying yourself, way too fucking soon. What had you lasted, two minutes? Three max? Like a fucking 16 year old kid. God, what a fucking tool. She probably thinks you’re a horrible lay. You know you’re better than that.

You groan hard into the sheets below you, feeling the metallic taste of a hangover in your mouth. You need a gallon each of water, orange juice, and black coffee, stat. And probably like, nine pieces of the butteriest toast you can find. And probably a shower, yes, a shower. And a straightjacket, for how absolutely insane you feel.

Damnit, the amp. Luckily, the rental was in the works of being en route last night, so you feel just a little bit better about that, at least. It won’t be your baby, but it will sound okay.

You roll and find your almost-dead phone underneath your chest, blinking your eyes as the screen brightens. Nothing. Not even Isla. Good. No one wants you. You can stay here, hidden in your burrow, until you absolutely can’t anymore.

You’ve gotta say something, anything to her, to start this process that you want to stay millions of miles away from. But the first step to healing is admission, so you go ahead and take it.

You

5:31AM: I’m sorry.

You watch as the message is delivered to her, seeing the string of foreplay texts and her photo still sitting in the chat. She’s so gorgeous, how could you have fucked up this badly? Your first chance to show her how you feel and you fumble this hard?

Though there were many factors playing into it, at the very deepest darkest part of your mind, you know why. You know exactly why. Guilt isn’t an emotion you let yourself feel very often, and this morning, you find yourself grasped in the wrath of it. The double-edged sword of your current situation with two separate women is proving to be more intertwined than you’d anticipated, or even foresaw. What you want is clear, though. And you’re determined to get a second chance, no matter how rocky and uncomfortable the road to that chance may be.

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steddiemicrofic · 1 year

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⚡️ Welcome! ⚡️

{June prompt: 'stuff' + 483 words}

view previous prompts/collections here

what is this?

steddiemicrofic is a new monthly drabble challenge started in July. Each month will have a one-word prompt and a randomly-generated word count challenge between 300-600 words.

For example, a prompt might look like: ‘breakfast,’ 522 words.

how do I play?

We’ll announce the new prompt on the first of the month, and then you’ll have until the end of the month to fill the prompt. Your story should be a third person standalone fic with Steve and Eddie as the primary characters (or topic of discussion if doing outsider POV.) If you want us to share your story, you can tag us @steddiemicrofic and use that month’s hashtag.

Please note: word counts are strict. That’s the whole fun of the challenge, so please don’t tag us if your drabble turns into a 2k story.

We’ll use wordcounter.net to check the final word count before reblogging. (Note: your word processor might tally words differently, so be sure to run your draft through wordcounter.net specifically before posting.) WC limits only apply to the body of the story, so titles, descriptions, etc. won’t count against you.

sequel policy, updated 5.7.24

we are officially saying no sequels for microfic challenge submissions. what this means:

going forward, we won’t reblog sequel posts, whether they’re posted in the same month or across multiple months. if your story has “part 2,3, etc” in the title, or links to a previous installment, or mentions that you need prior context to understand the story, we will not reblog it

you may still fill each month’s prompt within a consistent au universe, but again, each submission must work as a standalone story (so don’t link previous installments in your submission post)

as always, feel free to do whatever you want with these prompts on your own blog! write parts 1-20 if you feel inspired, just please don’t tag us beyond part 1

is there a prize for playing?

No, but you can have a head pat and this cool rock I found outside.

are there any other rules?

Please be sure to rate your drabble using AO3 rating system [G=general, T=teen, M=mature, or E=explicit) and warn for any triggers/squicks at the top of the post so we can tag for those when we reblog. You can format your posts something like:

Title

written for ‘prompt’ wc: # | rated: __ | cw: __

can I suggest prompts?

Absolutely! Can’t guarantee we’ll get to all of them, but feel free to send prompts to the inbox and we can maybe run some bonus rounds in addition to the main monthly prompt.

can I participate anonymously?

You sure can, bestie.* To submit anonymously, please DM the mods first (so we can get in touch with you if we need you to update WC/tags or if we have any questions), then you can submit your fic as an anonymous ask to our blog. Anon asks still need to include a header with the title, rating, and content warnings, and WCs will be checked before publishing.

*For now. Not that we expect it to happen, but if for some reason our inbox gets flooded with anon hate/spam then we’ll have to update this rule.

who do I talk to if I have questions?

Send us an ask here or you can message Wynn at @wynnyfryd or Mickala @steddieas-shegoes

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie writers #steddie prompt #steve harrington #eddie munson

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destieltropecollection · 1 year

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DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 24 | Firsts

Worth Waking Up For | @blessyourhondahurley

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,565 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Morning After, One Night Stand, bottom!Dean Summary: The morning after a one-night stand, Dean and Cas hash out some differences in temperament.

A Most Wonderful Time | @pluckydean

Rating: General Word Count: 2,007 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Alternate Universe, Office Christmas Party, First Date Summary: Dean despised champagne and idle chit chat and stuffy corporate parties. He was here for one reason and one alone: to finally talk to his long time crush, Castiel Novak.

Ridden Hard | Destielshipper4Cas (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,433 Main Tags/Warnings: Strangers to Lovers, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Submissive Alpha Cas, Omega Dean, Top Dean, Bottom Cas, First Time, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Summary: Alpha Castiel tries to pick up an omega at a rut bar and gets fucked by a feisty omega for his trouble.

Like Something Holy | @pointyearedelvishprincling

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,042 Main Tags/Warnings: religious imagery & symbolism, castiel can hear longing, first kiss, emotional hurt/comfort, oral sex, post godstiel arc Summary: Still struggling with the fallout of his Godstiel days, Cas breaks down after a hunt. Hearing Dean's longing behind the comfort of his words, they finally find some much needed closure.

it started with a photograph | @demonmary

Rating: No Rating Word Count: 3,821 Main Tags/Warnings: Closeted Dean Winchester, AU : Boarding School, Secret Relationship, Fluff, Kisses Summary: Not even twenty minutes prior, Cas had been curled in the corner of the hallway, tucked into his English studies. So many things had changed in such a remarkably short amount of time. And on top of that, Castiel was comfortable, joking with Dean and acting like this was alright. Like it was normal. Could it be?

Hunger Pains | @follows-the-bees

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,657 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Creature Castiel, stabbing, firsts, mutual pining, Summary: Castiel has been able to keep his hunger in check but now nothing can quite sate it, except perhaps his next-door neighbor and best friend Dean Winchester.

A Kind of Paradise | @viridiandecisions

Rating: Mature Word Count: 9,851 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Library, Librarian Castiel (Supernatural), Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Cat Owner Castiel (Supernatural), References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Flustered Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Self-Indulgent Book Recs, Flirting Via Books, Castiel Wears Glasses (Supernatural), US Midwest, Summer Summary: "Hello, Dean," Castiel rumbles at him, and God, the way his name sounds in Castiel's mouth. Dean could drop a rock down the well of that voice and never hear it hit bottom. "Charlie said you might stop by. Is there anything new I can help you find?" "I just wanted to check you out, uh—check these out. The books. For my brother. Sammy needs more books." Fuck Dean's life.

at the edge of chaos | @sharkfish

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,154 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Dinosaurs, Paleontologist Cas, Photographer Dean, Trans Dean Summary: They saw some dinosaurs in the fly-over the day before, so Dean knew he was really, actually, truly going to see real, actual, true dinosaurs, but he still almost drops his camera in the mud when the first stegosaurus comes out of the trees. Stunned, Dean says, “I’m going to win a Pulitzer.” Equally stunned, Cas says, “How do I go back to bones after this?”

you should floss more | @songliili

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 15,440 Main Tags/Warnings: Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dentist Castiel (Supernatural), Interior Designer Dean Winchester, Meet-Cute, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Date, idiots to lovers Summary: “You know I told you I had to book an appointment to a new dentist? Because the old one retired? Well I may or may not have said something huh inappropriate? Not on purpose! I swear!” “Dean. What did you do?” “Well, huh he- he said something about us being strangers or whatever and I- well, I said 'you’re not a stranger, you’ve been inside my mouth for 20 minutes!'” OR the one where Dean embarrasses himself at the dentist and still manages to get a date with the blue-eyed dentist.

For Evermore | @casblackfeathers

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 110,572 Main Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, childhood friends, reunion, mutual pining, underage drinking, panic attacks, top Castiel, bottom Dean, top Dean, bottom Castiel, friends to lovers, fluff and angst, soft Dean, single parent Dean, misunderstandings, hurt and comfort, virgin Castiel, Dean’s first time with a man Summary: There's no place like home. This was a line Castiel used to know by heart when he was a kid, watching The Wizard of Oz and believing fairytales were real. At thirty-one years old, he isn't a kid anymore, and it has been twelve years since he has known what home feels like. Twelve years. That's when his world had come crashing down and he had left his hometown, Holly Springs, with the broken pieces of what he once was to build a new life in San Francisco. But as circumstances force him to come back to the only place he swore he would never return to, Castiel is finally forced to face everything he once knew and loved. Especially when said everything is made of spring-green eyes and a stardust of freckles, wrapped in all the memories Castiel was not able to erase from his heart. After twelve years, Dean is as mesmerizing as Castiel remembers, but the scars of what was broken still run as deeply as the marrow of his bones, and Castiel will do everything he can to protect himself. After all, his favorite movie also taught him that 'until hearts can be made unbreakable,' he can’t listen to his own.

#destiel trope collection #destiel trope collection 2023 #destiel #fanfic #firsts #day 24

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s-creations · 6 months

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Hues Chapter 3: Mush-Fever

Mario forgets. Just because they're in a new place…doesn't mean old problems disappear.

Fandom: Super Mario & Releated Fandoms Rating: Teen and UP Audiences Relationship: Mario & Luigi (Nintendo), Wario & Mario (Nintendo), Waluigi & Mario (Nintendo), Mario/Princess Peach (Nintendo) Additional Tags: Mario needs help, Luigi's not feeling great, Wario and Waluigi are not overly great with the whole 'comforting' thing.

‘Top story this morning: we’ve officially entered into Mush-Fever season. A few reports are already coming in of Toad’s being checked in. Medical professionals are warning that this season’s gonna be a rough one. It’s advised that you keep an eye out for early symptoms and call your doctor immediately if you suspect someone’s sick.

Early symptoms are:

High Fever

Extreme Fatigue/Constantly Sleeping

Loss of Appetite

If someone starts sprouting abnormal growths, call it in immediately. Better to be safe than sorry.’

Mario let out a wide yawn as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. Barely taking in the news report that was on the television. Really just wanting background noise while he tried to wake up.

Normally, Luigi would be up and about before Mario. But everyone was still recovering from King Boo’s attack a few weeks prior. And if everyone else was still shaken just dealing with the Ecto-Ghosts, Mario couldn’t even begin to imagine how Luigi felt.

So, if Luigi wanted to lie in bed, Mario was going to let his little brother sleep for as long as he needed. Left to battle through his morning slog alone

Mario perked up when the coffee announced it was finished. Pouring the wonderful caffeine into a red mug, topping it off with milk and sugar before shuffling into the living room. Nursing his drink as he watched the screen flash before him. Still not really taking in the information that was being presented.

A familiar chill fell over Mario. Giving him ample warning before Polterpup phased through the ceiling. Who let out a small whine as they sat next to Mario.

“Hey doggie, you sleep well last night? …Do ghosts sleep?” Mario frowned softly in thought as Polterpup nudged his arm, whining again, “What’s up pup?”

The special pup jumped from the couch. Turning back to the human, letting out a bark before pointing towards the stairs. Still confused but realizing that something was wrong, Mario was up.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Mario’s eyes followed Polterpup as they floated up the stairs. Soon close behind, finding said pup now sitting outside of Luigi’s room. Polterpup nervously tapped the ground as Mario walked closer. The hero gently knocked on said door.

“Hey, Luigi, you doing okay? Polterpup came down to get me and they seemed really upset about something. …Luigi? …I hope you’re decent, cuz I’m coming in.”

“Oh, hey, you’re still asleep? You’re sleeping the day away! Come on, how about we get started, yeah? …Luigi? You need to get up.”

“Lu?”

“Weegee?”

Even with the mask that was covering the lower half of his face, it was clear that Luigi was in pain. Skin pale, breathing harsh and shallow, eyes screwed up in pain, hand clutching desperately to the sheet covering him. Numerous Toads, masks tied around their heads to cover their mouths, were rushing around. Not just focusing on Luigi, but also the other patients resting in the beds. Occasionally, a Toad would pluck off a few green mushrooms from Luigi’s skin. The human wincing every time his skin was pulled.

Mario could only watch from the wide window. Stuck in the hallway as his eyes remained on his brother’s tense form. Hand pressed against the cold glass, feeling as if he was about to break.

He couldn’t do this again.

Not again.

“He’ll be okay,” Peach kept her voice even, knowing how hard this was for Mario. A small smile on her face in an attempt to offer comfort. “Luigi has the best people looking after him. This is a common illness, it happens every year. There’s nothing to worry about.”

The last sentence caused more damage than help. Mario reached up to pull his cap down over his eyes. The hand pressed against the window turning into a fist.

“Mario-”

“Common doesn’t mean non-deadly,” Mario choked out.

“Luigi will be fine.”

“You can’t promise that. Not…Not with how he is…”

Peach bit her lip, “Why don’t we go and-”

“I can’t leave him.”

“...You can’t do anything here, this isn’t helping you or Luigi.”

“Don’t!” Mario pulled away, eyes blazing, “Don’t…say that. You don’t understand, you can’t understand… Just leave me alone.”

He marched over to the bench located on the opposite side of the hallway. Eyes going back to the window, even if he couldn’t see Luigi anymore. Remaining tight as he stared the pane of glass down. Peach remained frozen for a few moments before nodding.

“Very well… If you need anything, I believe it would be best for you to find a Toad. They’ll be able to help you find what you need.” And with that, she turned. The clicks of her heels soon gave way to silence, leaving Mario to these thoughts..

As the silence settled in, so did Mario’s realization as to what he’d done. He let out a low curse before throwing his hat onto the ground in frustration. Digging his fingers into his hair. Vision blurring. Hoping the external pain would drown out the internal pain.

It didn’t.

Letting out a heavy puff of breath, Mario sat back up. Leaning against the wall while furiously rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. Sitting as such before picking his hat back up, shoved it back onto his head. Uncaring that it now lay lopsided on his head.

Eyes flickering back onto the window, his heart sank further. Knowing Luigi lay just on the other side. Out of reach for him to help.

The disgusting feeling in his stomach seemed to grow.

“Excuse me.”

A green-capped Toad jumped hearing the new voice. Peering up to see the Kingdom’s hero. Who looked a little worse for wear. “Oh, hello Mario! What can I help you with?”

“I don’t suppose you have a phone I could borrow?”

_____________________________

Wario and Waluigi barely gave notice to the passing glances sent their way as they power walked down the castle halls. Fully focused on their goal. Practically skidding to a halt upon their last turn. They cautiously peered around the corner to find Mario sitting on the bench. Staring at the ground, hat in his hand, looking wilted.

“Don’t say anything stupid,” Wario whispered to his brother.

“You’re one to talk.”

“You threw him into the lake last time he was like this.”

“He deserved it.”

“Just…don’t, okay.”

“Whatever.”

Neutral ground decided upon, they slowly walked forward. Mario barely flinched as Wario claimed a seat next to him. Waluigi deciding to stand by the window instead, looking into the medical wing. His frown seemed to deepen upon finding the state Luigi was in.

“You rang?” Wario teased with a smirk. Only to falter when Mario didn’t respond. “...Hey, Luigi’s tough, he’ll be fine.”

“People get this illness every year. It’s more annoying than anything,” Waluigi added, “Greenie will be sleepy for a while after this. But otherwise, he’ll be fine.”

“Weegee’s not like other people…” Mario mumbled weakly.

The older two exchanged glances. Wario replied with, “How about we go stretch our legs, yeah? Get some fresh air. I don’t think sitting in a dingy hallway is doing you much good.”

“Get away from here for a while.” said Waluigi.

Mario wasn’t given a chance to argue back. Wario already wrapping his arm around the younger’s shoulder and leading him away. The view to the medical window blocked by Waluigi. Who gave a ‘Don’t even try it’ look when the hero turned back. Mario frowned but didn’t say anything, merely faced forward again.

The hero winced as he was brought out into the sunlight. Hating how bright the world was compared to his dark mood.

“You’re not taking me back to the lake, are you?” Mario mumbled out.

“No…but that does beg the question of what we are going to do.” Wario answered.

Waluigi let out a heavy sigh as he took the lead. “Thank Grambi one of us has a brain.”

“Hey now-”

“Don’t even argue with me. You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, maybe. But you don’t have to be rude about it.”

“Yes I do. It’s part of my charming personality.”

“You call that charm?”

“Far better than what your skills are.”

Mario couldn’t hold back a smile as he listened to them argue. Or, he supposed, their version of brotherly banter.

Entering the town proper, the group of three strolled through the main shopping district. Wario mainly focused on the number of food stalls, which didn’t seem to bother Waluigi all that much. Mario quietly noted that a few were pieces that he’d tried and liked before while others were very new to his rather limited palette.

It was hard to tell what was safe for a human to eat. But there hadn’t been any scares yet.

Wario and Waluigi were eventually carrying a number of bags in each arm.. Mario was still confused as to what they were planning. But listened with interest as the brother’s conversations turned from food selection to childhood stories as each choice seemed to bring up a new memory.

Where they’d gone to school and subsequently expelled from. Where their first business was. Both legal and ‘entrepreneurial’ related. Where they would meet up with Peach when the princess would sneak out from the castle for a break.

One of those places was a familiar one. Mario mentally commented that it was the same tree they’d taken Peach to on their first outing as a full group. He watched from the truck of said tree as the other two set up their small buffet. The hero feeling a small flicker of warmth enter his chest.

“...Is this a date?” Mario smirked at his question.

Waluigi let out a snort while Wario rolled his eyes. The oldest walked over to Mario to ruffle the hero’s hair. “As if you could afford us. Come on, you got some new things to try.”

Even with the worry weighing heavily in his stomach, Mario felt himself begin to relax. Starting to laugh more at the brother’s jokes and antics. Absolutely thrilled by the new things he was trying. Happy to have a moment when his mind wasn’t focused on the stress.

The afternoon cooled out to a calm evening. Mario and Wario leaning against the tree as they watched Waluigi, who had been pulled into a game by a group of younger Toads. All clearly enamored by the long legged creature that just towered over them and who could casually kick the ball around. It was a few minutes into their next round when Wario broke the quiet.

“So, how are you feeling?”

The uncomfortable feeling settled back into Mario’s stomach. But it wasn’t as heavy as it had been just that morning.

He shifted to pull his knees to his chest, arms crossed over them. Pausing to really think about the question and answer with, “...Better, I guess.”

“Yeah? Listen, I know this is all still new and a little…scary. You two are finding something new thrown at your feet practically every day. Even your days off don’t feel that fulfilling. But we were saying those things to make you feel better. Luigi will be fine.”

The hero let out a low hum in acknowledgement.

Wario frowned softly. “Do you believe me?”

“I mean…” Mario let out a heavy sigh, “I get it. We’re in a place that’s aware of what the problem is and how to help because they’ve seen it before. It’s common.”

“...But.”

“But no one’s been there when Luigi was fighting for his life. I told you before…Luigi was really sick when we were younger.”

“Oh, yeah,” Wario nodded slowly, “Bad immune system, right?”

“Yeah, bad enough to…to almost die a few times.”

“Wait, what? You said he was cared for and got better, what do you mean he almost died?”

“I said he got better, but he was always teetering on the edge,” Mario sighed softly, “There were a lot of scares growing up. I had my fill of watching Luigi through glass when we were back on Earth. You can say that this Mush-Fever is common, that everyone gets it. But Luigi’s been taken down by the cold too many times to make anything ‘common’ seem safe.”

“A cold?”

“Um…I’m not really sure how to say this… It’s just Earth’s common illness. That doesn’t mean Luigi could fight it off like anyone else.”

“But…he’s doing better now?” Wario asked slowly.

“I mean, yeah…”

“I have a feeling you’re not telling me the whole story.”

Mario frowned softly. “Our parents were really worried about Luigi growing up. Even after the doctors told them Luigi would be fine. It was just a scary start, nothing to worry about. Except every time he was sick, he found himself in the hospital. Going outside was a gamble. I felt that…if I wasn’t careful, something small could kill him.”

“I made a promise when I was younger that I would keep Luigi safe, no matter what. That I would never, ever, see him again behind a window. I thought…I thought I was doing fine and then…”

Breathing shaky, Mario rubbed his eyes furiously, attempting to hide his tears. But Wario saw right through it. Wrapping an arm around the other tightly so Mario could lean against him.

“Just let it out, you’re okay,” Wario mumbled, “You’re okay.”

Despite Wario’s words, Mario pulled himself together quickly. Sniffing softly as he pulled away. “I can’t let anything happen to him. I’ll do anything to keep him alive…even if I can’t be.”

“You’re not serious…” Wario whispered, swallowing weakly, insides turning to ice.

“If it means Luigi’s safe, I’d happily trade my life for his.”

Wario’s eyes looked up to Waluigi. Who was now showing off how far he could kick the balls the kid Toads were playing with. “Yeah…I get it. But still, you know you have us, right?

“I know… I still feel weird asking for it.”

There was a painful stab to the gut hearing that. Wario shifting nervously, “...Take it from me, asking for help isn't that bad of a thing. Besides, I thought you were past this? You came to me to talk about your relationship with Peach.”

“I can’t ‘fix’ myself overnight. It’s still a struggle.”

“Fair.”

Mario let out a choked gasp as he was pulled into a loose headlock, “Hey!”

Wario didn’t miss the laugh that escaped the hero. “Look, if you can come to me for help, then you can go to Peach. She’d probably be the better person to go to, honestly.”

“If she takes my apology.”

“That bad?”

“Oof, that’s unfortunate. But she’s taken mine, she’ll take yours.”

“You’re not dating her.”

“...You’d better have a good plan in place.”

“Oh, thanks! What welcoming words you’ve offered me just make me feel so happy.”

Wario couldn’t hold back his laughter as Mario rolled his eyes.

_____________________________

Peach let out a relieved sigh as she was given a thumbs up from the Toads inside the medical wing. Giving a small wave as her reply. Merely happy to see the patients inside looked far more relaxed than from that same morning.

Luigi appeared to finally be resting peacefully. A comforting red returning to his cheeks.

A cleared throat pulled her attention away from the window. Finding a sheepish looking Mario standing beside her.

“Hey…”

“Hello. You’ll be happy to know Luigi is past the worst of it and is on the path to a good recovery.”

Mario perked up at that. Quickly stepping closer to the window. Letting out a sigh of relief seeing Luigi’s calm and sleeping form. “Thank you for looking after him…and, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you this morning.”

Peach offered a sympathetic smile. Letting out a slow breath before saying, “My mother died of an illness that no one knew the origins of when I was just barely a teen.”

She could see from the corner of her eye that Mario flinched. The human was clearly scrambling to figure out what to say next until Peach gently took his head.

“I’m not looking for an apology. This morning was not good for you and you were not in a…good place, emotionally. My comments this morning were not well placed, and for that I apologize. I didn’t want to hear warm regards and standard pleasantries when she was on her deathbed. I’m sure you had your fair share growing up as well. It’s never fun to be the one that has to watch and wait.”

“...I’m sorry for your loss.” Mario eventually said. Flushing softly when Peach placed a gentle kiss on his temple.

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

“I am still sorry for this morning. I…forget that, just because we’re someplace new, not all of our old life was left behind. Wario was right when he said Luigi was tough. He’s been through a lot over the past few months and I guess that gave me a false sense of comfort. Because…I thought something like an illness couldn’t take him down again.”

“Even with your titles and what you’ve both been able to accomplish, that doesn’t make you invincible. We’ll just be better prepared for next year to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Mario smiles softly, “Yeah…next year.”

“Now, with that all out of the way, would you like to see Luigi?” Peach laughed softly as Mario perked up in interest.

“Really?”

“He’s not contagious anymore. There’s no issue.” She couldn’t help but laugh again as Mario rushed in. Following in soon after, checking in on her citizens while watching as Mario pulled up a chair next to the bed.

Mario grabbed onto Luigi’s hand and pressed it to his cheek, smiling softly.

#mario #luigi #mario and luigi #wario #waluigi #wario and waluigi #princess peach #mario x peach #slight mareach #s-creations #fanfiction #yellow purple red green #yprg

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indigosunsetao3 · 4 months

Text

Would It Be Enough?

Chapter 14 - Spy Games

Masterlist of Chapters

Warnings: 18+ - No minors Rated E - Please read the tags on A03 for any of your triggers

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Original FMC 8.5k words - AO3 Link

Right on schedule Ghost pulled up outside of the hotel in the black van. He didn’t bother getting out as Gaz clambered into the passenger seat and Crane loaded up the trunk with the duffle that Emma knew was holding guns and ammo. She on the other hand had to slowly make her way toward the car, the snow was deep enough that it covered her feet in the strappy heels and she twice had to tell Soap no to his offer to carry her. His and Ghost’s repaired issue was still too fresh and she wasn’t about to piss him off and risk it once again. So, instead, she climbed into the middle row, propped her feet up on the seat and rubbed some blood back into them as the four men talked.

The drive back to the safe house was uneventful but all of them were on high alert as they drove, eyes darting everywhere as they talked. Emma even noticed Soap was sitting with his pistol out on his thigh, safety off but finger not on the trigger as if ready for someone to pop up in the middle of the road. Given everything these men had seen she wasn’t surprised by it, but it was still something to get used to herself. The snow storm had kept most everyone inside at this early of an hour, their only company on the road a few stray dogs.

When they arrived at the safehouse Emma was quick to jump out and pick her way through the snow up the backsteps. Alex was there to greet them, the door flung open as he ushered them in and Emma nearly sighed at the warmth of the place. Someone had started a fire in the fireplace and she could smell fresh coffee in the kitchen.

“There’s some better clothes for you upstairs,” Alex said to Emma as he took in her flimsy dress and basically bare feet. “Price picked up a few things,” he explained quietly as if not wanting Price to overhear Alex talking about what he had done. Emma raised an eyebrow at that and Alex just grinned a little bit, “he’s a mother hen, don’t let him fool you. He knew you didn’t have anything that would be good for snow.”

“He’s not wrong,” Emma agreed, turning around as Soap brought up the rear of the group banging his shoes against the door frame to get rid of some of the snow before going back to Alex. “I need a shower first,” she stated to “how long do I have before we brief?”

“Price said he’d be back by nine so about thirty minutes,” Alex stated after checking his watch, his eyes darting down to Emma’s legs where her cuts had begun to scab over. “Do you need help with any of that?” He gestured vaguely toward her, his face showing concern for her injuries.

“No stitches required,” Emma answered, “small victories I guess.” She could do her own stitches if push came to shove but it was always easier to have someone else take care of it. She knew all the men had basic medical knowledge, i.e., how to keep someone alive until they got to a hospital, but Alex’s file showed he had actually been through some medical training in his career. “I’ll see you all shortly,” she stated to no one in particular as she kicked off her heels to carry them, “save me some coffee.”

Emma went right up to the main bedroom where she had gotten ready the day prior and found a large plastic shopping bag sitting on the small bench in front of the bed on top of a puffy black jacket with a hood. Setting her heels down by the closet Emma pulled the bag toward her before emptying all of the contents out onto the center of the bed and started sorting through everything. It was stuffed full of sweatpants, long sleeve plain shirts, a sweater that was an obnoxious burnt orange color and a black zipper hoodie. There were also thick socks and a pair of outdoor gloves that were fleece lined and she spotted a pair of snow boots on the floor with the tags still on them that she had missed before.

“Price,” Emma muttered, feeling overwhelmed at his act of kindness as she folded things back up neatly, opting to grab a pair of sweats and the orange sweater. She had a feeling he had picked that one for a bit of color compared to all the black and grey and while it wasn’t something she’d pick for herself she was going to wear it to show her appreciation. As she was moving toward the shower the bedroom door clicked open and Soap appeared, his dress shirt already undone and he was working on pulling it off his arms.

“I figured you’d already be in there by now,” Soap stated as he caught Emma halfway to the bathroom. “I was just going to change real quick,” he explained before pulling his undershirt over his head in a one armed maneuver that made his back muscles move in all the right ways. “Don’t look at me like that,” Soap warned as he caught Emma staring unabashedly at him. “Get in the shower before we both get in trouble,” he winked before playfully snapping his shirt in her direction which sent her scurrying.

The water wasn’t as hot as Emma would have preferred but it was warm and helped to heat up the deep cold she felt down to her bones. Taking her time Emma gingerly cleaned her legs and hands, looking over the cuts again in better light. Last night if she had access to her medical supplies, she may have thrown a stitch into one of the cuts on her leg but it was well enough along now it wasn’t worth going through the effort. When she finished and dried off, she could still hear movement in the bedroom so she pulled her on her clothes quickly and continued to towel dry her hair as she walked out.

“Oh, sorry,” Emma nearly squeaked as she quickly turned back toward the bathroom and made to disappear into it again. It wasn’t Soap out in the bedroom, it was Ghost. And he was currently shirtless picking through his bag for something else to put on.

“It’s fine,” Ghost muttered as he pulled a fresh long-sleeved shirt over his head, fixing his half mask as he did so. “I’m decent,” he added after a moment, looking at Emma’s back as she continued to stare determinedly at the tile floor of the bathroom. “I see you found Price’s shopping,” he tacked on trying to prompt her into a conversation and not be as awkward as she was.

“Ah, yeah,” Emma stated as she turned back around and plucked at the sweater. It was a bit too large for her, the neckline hung off one shoulder and the sleeves bunched at her wrist. But it was soft and comfortable, something she would have probably worn on a snowy day back home while she sat on the couch and read all day. “He didn’t have to,” she started as she reached up to hook the towel onto a hook on the bathroom wall before shutting the light off and walking fully into the bedroom.

“You barely brought anything that would keep you warm,” Ghost answered matter-of-factly, “a pair of jeans and t-shirts. You’d of frozen, those pretty little dresses Laswell sent aren’t much help either” he finished as he fished back around in his bag again.

“How do you know what I brought?” Emma asked but she knew she already knew the answer to that. She tried to tamper down the flash of anger at his blatant disrespect of her privacy, but she knew she had scowled a bit in his direction.

“I looked,” he said unashamedly as he produced what he had been looking for from his bag, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand so Emma couldn’t see it. “After all the shit last night,” he pocketed his small item then zipped up his bag, “Price wanted all of our stuff searched. Make sure nothing was planted on us, no microphones or GPS or some shit.”

Emma debated on the words before finally clicking the pieces together, “you told Price I had no clothes didn’t you.” She walked over to the bed and pulled the pile of folded items there, all of them were her size even the shoes. It was a simple act of kindness on Ghost’s part, he could have just not said anything to Price and let her freeze in her flimsy clothes, but he did tell him. He cared enough to even figure out what sizes she would need and even picked up the detail she didn’t have winter gloves. “Why?” She asked after a moment, flicking her eyes up toward him as he stood there silently watching her.

“Like I said, you would have frozen out there,” he answered simply, before turning to head toward the hallway as a car door slammed shut close by. “Price’s back, I suggest you hurry up.” And with that he was gone.

Emma stood in the silence of the room for a moment, taking in everything that had just occurred. Ghost was a difficult person to read, probably one of the more difficult people Emma had ever dealt with. He was always so cold and withdrawn, opting to watch from the sidelines and constantly calculating , barely speaking to anyone. But every once in a while, he showed flashes of humanity and even kindness though it was always on his own terms and his own way. Soap’s voice called up the stairs to her and Emma quickly moved to slip on some thick socks before heading down the stairs as well.

Everyone was gathered in the living room area around a folding table and Emma took the open seat between Soap and Alex, a fresh cup of coffee sitting there waiting for her. She tugged it toward her and peered inside, it looked like it was made how she liked it and she grinned taking a sip. Price was sitting at the head of the table on the phone, his fingers flipping through some pages before taking down a note then sliding it to Alex. Alex quickly read it over before turning back to the monitors and computers behind him to pull up what it was, coordinates it looked like based on the map that populated.

“Emma, you start,” Price said as he hung up his phone and tossed it on the table. At that Emma quickly set her coffee cup down and looked at everyone staring at her. She had no idea just where to start, unsure of what they all already knew. “Just start from the moment you sat down with Mikhail, go over it all. We got the gist of it through your microphone but we kept hitting interference when you went into the office.”

So Emma began. She talked them through everything that happened in painstaking detail, having to pause and backtrack a bit as she remembered something. She covered everything Mikhail had done and said, from grabbing her hair in the booth, to pinning her against a door, accusing her of being an agent, patting her down for weapons or microphones and dragging her through glass before Soap came to her rescue. In the midst of her story Soap had adjusted himself so his leg was pressed tightly against hers under the table, a silent show of support from him that he always did when things were tough. Emma resisted reaching out and grabbing his leg under the table but she felt his fingers gently brush over her elbow as he adjusted his folded arms across his chest.

The men all listened, a few leaning in to jot down a note or interrupting her for a quick question or clarification. When she finished at them arriving at the hotel Price gestured to Gaz and he walked through his perspective, before Crane then finally Soap. Everything aligned and some gaps in Emma’s story were filled in, specifically what happened while she was up in the office. Apparently, Crane had packed quite a few knives and him and Soap took out a few guards while Gaz went for his confiscated gun and the car, he had been the one to take out the bouncer at the door and drag him down an alley.

“The whole night wasn’t a waste,” Price said after Soap finished and they all sat in silence for a beat. “Ghost managed to infiltrate the penthouse, planted a few bugs and picked up some intelligence to send back to Laswell,” he explained and Ghost nodded once before he produced a small flash drive and slid it across the table to Alex. That was what was in his bag upstairs that he had been digging out Emma was sure.

“They found a few of my plants,” Ghost said as he leaned back again and Alex took the drive to plug it into a laptop. “I laid out a couple of easy finds. They knew we were after them so let them think they found what they were looking for. They haven’t found my real pieces yet,” he smirked, Emma could tell by the way his mask moved and eyes crinkled a bit. “I also cloned their computers, whatever they see, we will see,” and at that Alex turned the laptop around on the table for all of them to see. Someone was currently on it wherever they were at and were going through files.

“We think they are hiding the weapons cache at those coordinates,” Price pointed to the monitor on the wall that had a map pulled up. It looked to be some sort of farm way outside of the city limits. “They’re spooked so we wait and watch what they do first. Ghost and I are going today to scout out the location, Gaz you’re with us on overwatch,” he nodded at Gaz who merely nodded back in answer. “Soap and Crane I want you both tailing Crane’s mark, stay out of sight because we still don’t know who Mikhail recognized. He’s supposed to make contact today with the North Korea militant militia leader in downtown, I want to know if they plan on sending the weapons to them.” Soap and Crane both looked at one another before nodding, Soap cracking his knuckles lightly under the table. He was itching to get out in the field after everything that had happened the night before.

Emma glanced around at the table, the only two people not mentioned were her and Alex. “You two are our eyes and ears. Keep an eye on the laptop and record everything you see,” Price explained. “If anything of significance comes up send it to Laswell. Keep your conversations over radio brief and none too specific,” he looked around the table at those words, speaking to everyone. “We should expect someone to try and get into our systems and the less details we give the better.” When everyone nodded Price extended his hand out to check his watch, “be ready to leave in forty-five.”

At that everyone that was leaving began moving, which left Emma sitting at the table just staring. Alex had gone back to the computers to pull up some information and scribbled it out before handing it to Price. “Pull up a chair,” Alex said over his shoulder to Emma as he scooted his own over a bit and pulled a keyboard toward him.

Emma didn’t really have a chance to look at the whole setup the day before, too busy unpacking and getting ready to focus on it. Now she really took it in. It was a huge display of different monitors set into the wall, all of them showing different data and information, there were multiple keyboards, headsets, mouses and what looked like a switchboard to move between everything depending on what screen you needed. The front had folded down into a small desktop and Alex had it covered in post it notes, torn pieces of paper and multiple pens were scattered about, as if he just kept losing one and producing another from his supply.

“Is this what you did all night?” Emma asked as she reached out a hand to pull a keyboard to herself and clicked a few buttons to see what monitor she was on. “This is something out of the movies,” she said more to herself as she reached out a hand to flip a switch to move to the next monitor.

“Pretty much,” Alex said as he pointed to a monitor for her to go to and handed her the headphones. “It’s overwhelming at first but you get used to it,” he waited for her to get the headphones on before flipping another switch and the audio clicked through. She was listening to a man talking, it was innocuous chatter about the storm the night before but when he walked on the screen Emma felt herself stiffen. It was Mikhail. There was a small amount of satisfaction at seeing the cut on the side of his forehead where she had nailed him with the glass and what looked like a large black eye from Soap, but that was nothing compared to what he did to her. “You alright?” Alex asked as he looked between the screen and Emma, his hand landing gently on her forearm causing her to jump.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine,” Emma said as she looked around the desk for a notepad and pen. She figured she may need to take notes at any given second so she wanted to be prepared. Emma felt him squeeze lightly before he let go and went back to what he was doing. “So how do we listen to everyone and talk with them?” Emma asked after a moment, Mikhail had left the room and there was no sound aside from the heat running in the background.

“We’re going to be running off our regular coms on a secure channel so everyone will hear everything,” Alex said but still gestured to another switchboard. This one had a sticker with everyone’s name assigned under a button, “I could hear everyone but you all could only hear me when I selected who to talk to. Little easier when you’re undercover so you don’t have chatter in your ear constantly. It got a little chaotic last night though,” he grinned, “at one point I was relaying information at Crane but accidentally had Gaz’s mic on. He cursed me out royally when he got in the car because I apparently ‘distracted’ him.” He rolled his eyes before continuing to walk her through the different mechanics of everything.

The team was ready to go and gathered downstairs in the time fame that Price had given as Alex was finishing up showing Emma how to pull up different traffic and security cameras. Price, Gaz and Ghost were in full tactical gear, though it was white compared to the normal beige and brown thanks to the snow the area had gotten overnight. They had weapons and magazines strapped all over them and Emma noted the large case that Gaz had which she knew contained a sniper rifle to help him scope out the area while Price and Ghost worked. Soap and Crane on the other hand were dressed in civilian clothes with large winter jackets on, without even touching Soap she knew he was armed under the jacket with at least two pistols and a few knives.

“We’ll drop you off on our way out, up to you to find a way back,” Price said to Crane and Soap and they just nodded. “Keep your eyes and ears peeled for anything,” Price then instructed Emma and Alex, “and not just on the monitors either,” he added. When both of them nodded as well he turned and headed toward the backdoor to head out to the van, pulling a white beanie over his head as he went. The rest of the men followed and Soap lingered for a moment and Alex took that as his queue to suddenly want another cup of coffee even though his cup was still half full.

“Be careful,” Emma said as she slid her headphones off her neck and stood up. “I mean I know you do this all the time but,” she shrugged a little bit, “I have to say it anyway.” When he grinned and reached for her she went to his arms instantly and let him crush her against him in a hug. As she suspected she could feel side holsters strapped to his body and even what felt like a larger gun somehow along his spine.

“I will, you keep an eye out for us, yeah?” Soap asked as he pulled back and tilted her head up to him. “I’ll be back after nightfall,” he added and Emma’s eyes widened. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet and nightfall was a few hours away. “Keep Alex on his toes,” he grinned and leaned down to kiss her, his hands cupping her face as he lingered for a moment before pulling back, “and I’ll see you soon mo cadalach.”

Emma grinned as he walked out, her hand holding his for a moment longer before both of their arms dropped away and he was out the door. Alex reappeared with a snack and pulled his chair out again, dropping a snack in front of Emma’s spot as well. “Nicknames now?” He inquired, smirking around his Danish before Emma nudged him as she took a seat again. “I’ve known Soap a long time and I can tell you; he doesn’t hand out pet names to just anyone, none of the women I knew at least,” he shrugged and grabbed his headphones again and got to work testing the comms to make sure everyone was live.

The hours passed slowly. Between quick conversations and exchanging of information between the teams Emma and Alex continued gathering data. Listening to Mikhail’s conversations proved to be very dull and Emma found herself yawning and doodling in the corner of her paper to keep herself awake. Alex told her to take a break when he caught it and she quickly rose from the chair to find them something for lunch and add more logs into the fire. When she walked back toward the monitors, she spotted a large gun that Alex had propped against the side of the desk and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just because it’s called a safe house doesn’t mean it’s always safe,” Alex explained as he gratefully took the sandwich she had made for him. “Price always wants us ready for anything,” he continued before clicking to another screen to pull up a feed of downtown. Soap and Crane were leaning casually against a wall of a smoke shop, Crane puffing on a cigarette, as they watched their mark across the street. The man they were following hadn’t moved in over an hour and the sun was almost set. Finally, the man left the restaurant and got into a car which meant it was Emma and Alex’s turn to actually do something. They followed the car thanks to the GPS Soap had planted on it and it arrived at a hotel in the heart of downtown fifteen minutes later.

“Looks like he’s in for the evening” Alex stated as the car drove off again after the man exited with his bodyguard and bag. “Let’s call it for now, we’ll keep the camera on the front door and watch for any movement.” Soap and Crane responded back stating they were headed back before Alex moved to check in on Gaz, Ghost and Price. They had been mostly silent once they got into position and Ghost came back over the radio stating that security was high but there hadn’t been any movement in or out, they were going to wait a little longer hoping the false security of nightfall would draw people out. They were going radio silent until further notice.

“When Soap and Crane get back you need to go rest,” Emma stated as she sipped at her water glancing at Alex as he yawned hugely again and rubbed at his face. “Don’t even try,” Emma cut him off as he opened his mouth to protest, “you’ve been up for a day and a half at least. You’re still healing and still under my care,” she glanced up at a monitor when movement caught her eye but it was nothing. “I can watch this for a while, I’m sure Soap or Crane can sit with me, especially since we’re only having to stay on top of one team.”

“Fine,” Alex relented as he scrubbed at his hair, “but only because I am bushed.” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest watching everything on the screens, fighting to keep his eyes open. Emma continued to work beside him, listening to the idle on the monitors before a car pulled up outside. Alex was quick on his feet, all signs of exhaustion gone, as he grabbed the gun by the desk and went to the front picture window to look out the curtains. He kept the gun down at his side as he watched and Emma turned in her chair to look at him before he sighed, “just Soap and Crane. Looks like they found a ride,” he stated and shook his head, “they’re lucky that excuse of a truck even made it here.” He dropped the curtain and went and set his gun by the desk again just as the front door opened to reveal Soap and Crane.

“Snowing again,” Crane said as he brushed some snow off his jacket and shook some heat back into his limbs. “I bitched about the heat of the desert but I could feel my damn feet as they sweated to death, I haven’t felt my toes in hours,” he complained as he undid the laces on his boots and kicked them off. “I call the first shower,” he stated before Soap shoved him playfully in the back and Crane headed up the stairs peeling his jacket and shirt off.

“Go,” Emma stated to Alex who looked like he was about to take a seat back in his chair again. “We can handle the computer for a bit, you were fighting off sleep just sitting there a few seconds ago,” Emma finished as Alex just shook his head.

“Just a couple hours,” he stated, looking between Emma and Soap, “I mean it. Don’t let me sleep for too long. You all need some rest as well.” Satisfied with Soap’s nod of agreement Alex too made to go up the stairs, not going nearly as fast as Crane and yawning the whole way.

“How was your day?” Soap inquired after Alex cleared the landing and they could hear him walking to one of the spare bedrooms. “Was it as riveting as mine?” He pulled his jacket and boots off before moving to stand by the fire to warm up a bit. The house was certainly warmer than it was outside, or at the hotel they had spent the night in, but it was still drafty.

“Just about,” Emma said as she glanced back at the monitors for a moment before going over to stand by Soap and slide her arms around his waist. “The most exciting part was tracking the car,” she muttered as Soap’s arm wrapped around her and pulled her tighter against him, “the movies make it look much more exciting.”

“They always do,” Soap agreed as he rolled his neck from side to side, holding his free hand out to the fire to warm it. “One day we’ll get you out in the field where you aren’t getting attacked, it’s a little more exciting,” he grinned and kissed the top of her head before reaching up to remove his ear piece and pulled the wire out from under his shirt. “I’ll be over in a second if you want to get settled,” he said as he unhooked one of his pistols and set it on the coffee table before the other.

Emma nodded and went back over to the desk, taking a seat on the hard wooden chair with a groan and pulled her headphones back on again. She could see Soap behind her through the reflection of one of the darker monitors and watched as he pulled a few knives from his chest strap and waistband before discarding them and the other pistol. He then sent to work removing the whole hostler and rubbed lightly at one of his shoulders where the gear had dug in.

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be watching the cameras,” Soap said idly as he dug out a magazine from his cargo pants and threw it on the table. He wasn’t even looking at her but he had apparently noticed that Emma was distracted from her job. Soap smirked as Emma quickly adverted her gaze back to the camera that was in front of the hotel before he walked over behind her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “It’s cute how easily distracted you are,” Soap mused as he squeezed, digging his thumbs into the soft skin to massage it.

“I don’t know if I should be offended or not that you aren’t the same with me,” Emma answered, groaning lightly at the massage. Her shoulders and back were stiff from sitting in the same chair for hours, her ass nearly going numb a few times.

“You just haven’t caught me is all,” Soap answered as his thumbs moved to run up the back of her neck to the base of her head and back down. “Trust me, I do, I’ve gotten caught a few times by the others,” he smirked and patted her lightly before moving to take a seat in Alex’s vacated chair. “Crane called me out today for smiling too much when you were on the radio,” he supplied before pulling the headphones over his ears.

“I’m going to lay down,” Crane yelled down the stairs into the silence, causing Emma to jump at the noise. “Gaz kept me up all damn night with his snoring,” he added before walking away not giving Emma or Soap a chance to argue with him. Not that either of them felt the need to, they were both tired as well but given the fact they probably had the best night’s sleep of the team they weren’t going to fight them on it. Soap removed his headphones to listen to Crane’s steps before a door upstairs shut and it was silent once more.

“House to ourselves,” Soap grinned as he leaned on the desk to look over at Emma who was staring back at him. “Whatever will we do with it?” He asked, his hand darting out to tug at her a bit to pull her closer to him.

“It is not to ourselves,” Emma answered back, “they are just asleep upstairs. That could literally change any second,” she stated as she resisted his pull. “Besides we’re working,” she added, leaning away from him a bit though there was a smile on her lips, “Price and them are counting on us.”

Soap laughed, “oh we’re working now? I’m sure that’s what I said you last night and you didn’t listen at all. You gave me every excuse under the sun to get me into that bed with you,” he grinned and grabbed at her this time, not letting her fight him off, as he dragged her into his lap. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added as he kissed at her neck.

“Johnny,” Emma admonished as she squirmed in his lap, turning to face the monitors again. Her headphones were pulled tight from where they were plugged in and she removed them. “Work now play later,” she stated, narrowing her eyes a bit and zooming in on a camera only to realize the movement had been nothing more than a piece of trash in the wind.

“There is nothing going on,” Soap said as he pulled her back against him again, his arms wrapping tight around her middle to hold her there. “Ghost said they are radio silent for now, Crane’s guy is still in the hotel, and who knows if I’ll get you alone later. We can keep an eye on the monitors,” he kissed at her neck and felt Emma squirm a bit. “We’ll just need to be quiet is all,” he added as his hand found it’s way under her overly large sweater, his fingers dancing along her stomach. He waited for permission before going further though and when Emma turned her face toward him and kissed him, he knew the answer.

His fingers were cold against her skin as his second hand slipped up under the sweater and bypassed her bra completely. Emma left out a soft groan as his hands palmed over her breasts, letting her head fall back onto his shoulder as he pinched her nipples lightly. She arched up into the touch, pushing her ass back against his already hardening length and smirked as he huffed into her ear. Reaching up behind her Emma grabbed at the back of Soap’s neck with one hand and craned her head to the side to prompt him to kiss her and he did just that, sucking and nipping at one spot as he continued his ministrations.

“I like these clothes on you,” Soap said after a moment, his hands pushing her bra up and over her breasts so they were free under the sweater, “gives me much easier access to everything,” he grinned and pinched her again before sliding his hands down her stomach to her hips. “These sweatpants especially,” he added as he his hands plunged right past the waistband to dig his fingers into her thighs then suddenly stopped. “But, as your said, we should be working,” Soap stated, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke quietly to her, “so I guess I should stop,” he grinned and bit her ear lobe which caused Emma to gasp before he slowly pulled his hands back up her thighs.

Emma let out a soft whimper at his words and not too subtly spread her legs further apart as she rolled her hips onto him, taking extra care to push her ass up against him. “I can keep an eye on the monitors,” she said and felt his hands stop again. “Like you said there isn’t a lot going on,” she added, opening her eyes to look over at him. He was watching her carefully and kept his eyes locked on hers as his hands slid down to the sides of her thighs to pull them even further apart before his finger brushed right over the center of her.

“You sure?” He asked, gently rubbing a small circle, “you were the one who said we needed to work and Alex and Crane could wake up at any moment.” He was purposely dragging this out, making her eat her own words as he taunted her.

“Yes,” Emma breathed as she arched up toward his hand needing more than what he was giving her over the underwear. He took the hint and gently pushed the cotton material aside before sliding two fingers through her, humming at the wetness he found there. Emma let out a sound between a sigh and groan and she pushed even further against his hand, dropping her head forward a bit.

“Eyes on the monitors,” Soap stated and stopped moving his hand, “you stop watching them and I stop fucking you” he grinned and slipped a finger inside of her without warning. Emma let out a small gasp as she bit down on her lip but she kept her eyes locked on the monitors not wanting him to stop. “That’s a good girl,” he grinned as he felt her body clamp around his finger at the praise before adding a second finger, letting her rock her hips against his hand as he moved them in and out of her. “Tell me what you see,” he said as he added his thumb to the mix to gently rub circles over her clit.

“I, what?’ Emma breathed as she rolled her hips against him. It was hard to think of anything else besides his fingers inside of her.

“I need to make sure you’re paying attention,” Soap said as his free hand slipped back up under her sweater again to work at her breast. “Tell me what you see on the monitors, we can’t afford to miss anything,” he grinned against her shoulder as he waited for her to start talking. He could easily see the monitors himself but he liked listening to her attempt to breathe and concentrate as he worked her up into a frenzy.

Emma was a breathy mess as she started to describe the hotel front and Soap began to move his fingers faster into her and he felt her body beginning to tense with the anticipated release. She was breathing hard and fast and when he felt her flutter around him, he clamped his free hand over her mouth to silence her moans. He bent her body back so she had her head on his shoulder as her back bowed forward as she squirmed and bucked through her orgasm.

Emma was breathing hard through her nose as Soap kept her mouth clamped shut and she slammed her eyes shut finishing off her climax. She cut her eyes over to him after a moment to find him smirking and he pulled his hand out from between her legs and slipped his glistening fingers into his mouth. Emma cursed under her breath watching him and Soap popped his fingers back out with a grin, raising his eyebrows a bit as Emma’s pupils dilated.

“You like that?’ He asked after a moment, leaning in to kiss her so she could also taste herself on him. “I can’t get enough of your taste and I wasn’t letting that go to waste,” he smirked and bit her lower lip, tugging slightly. “Stand up for me,” he said after a moment and Emma quickly rose on her still shaking legs, her body vibrating with anticipation. She turned to look at him and caught as his hands worked over his zipper and button before Soap stopped and pointed for her to face the monitors again. Emma did as she was told but was listening hard to him as he adjusted himself put push down his pants and boxers before settling back into the chair again.

“What do you see now? Tell me about the penthouse,” Soap stated as his hands found her backside and grabbed at the sweatpants there to pull them down antagonizing slow, her underwear with it. He watched her shift her focus to another monitor, one that was closer to the desk as he got her pants down to her knees then let go. Emma quickly stepped out of them as she talked, her fingers fisting as she tried to concentrate. Soap ran his hands up the back of her thighs before grabbing her ass and squeezing, his fingers kneading the skin as Emma rambled about the empty living room area that the camera was on.

Emma was struggling as she talked about what she saw, her breath catching as Soap’s hands kept getting dangerously close to her slickness. He was taunting her in the worst, and best, ways as he ran his hands between her thighs finding her skin damp there from her last orgasm. He reached up and pushed between her shoulders so she was bent over and supporting herself on her hands, her words stuttering as his fingers teased her again. He was just gliding his fingers forward and backwards over her, going higher with each pass, spreading her slickness until it reached her backside, his thumb resting at that entrance for just a moment. Emma hesitated in her talking but after a brief second she continued and pushed herself ever so slightly against him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Soap stated as his other hand gently ran up her spine. He stopped his demanding voice with her at the moment, wanting her to be comfortable and not feel like she was doing something just because she felt pressured.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” Emma said as she turned her head to look back at him, “it’s just new,” she breathed as Soap gently circled his thumb over her and she huffed. “I’ll tell you to stop if I want to stop. We agreed to that last night,” she said and bit her lip as he replaced his thumb with his index finger and pushed lightly.

“Three taps,” Soap said quietly, his eyes darting down to what his finger was doing before back to her face, “you tap me anywhere three times and I will stop instantly.” He raised his eyebrow waiting for her agreement and when Emma nodded he smirked and gently pushed her face toward the monitors again. “Tell me about the painting,” he smirked and slipped his fingers between her legs to gather more slickness before going back to her asshole, adding a little pressure to push in slightly. She gasped and dropped her eyes for a second getting used to the feel before reciting everything she saw in the painting of the city landscape.

Emma was growing restless at the feel of him, how he kept going back to her clit and between her legs to gather more slickness before pushing into her backside with his finger. She wasn’t sure how far he had pushed into her but each time sent a new jolt of unease but also curiosity and pleasure down her. She needed him, now, her body was humming and when he moved to slip his fingers back into her pussy she grabbed his wrist to keep him there. She needed that release and she ground back into his hand as he did what she silently asked. “Johnny,” she breathed as he edged her to a second orgasm, she stopped moving not wanting to come again on his fingers. “Fuck me,” she groaned out and she felt him freeze at her bold words, “fuck me properly right now.”

His hands grabbed at her hips instantly and he twisted her around to face him before pulling her to straddle his legs seated in the chair. “I like when you're desperate,” Soap said with a grin as he scooted his hips down the chair a bit for a better angle before grasping himself with one hand and lining himself up with her entrance. Not waiting for her he used his other hand to pull her down hard on him, biting his own lip as she stretched around him and took him fully to the base.

“Johnny,” Emma moaned out into his shoulder as she began moving on him, grinding against him as he arched his hips up. It was different having all of your clothes on while doing this, there wasn’t that satisfaction of skin on skin as she pushed against him, but there was also the thrill of having to be quiet. His hand found her hip instantly and then he pushed back at her shoulder so she would lean away from him, her hands gripping the desk behind her help her move.

At this angle they were staring blatantly at one another, their bodies picking up the pace as they went. Emma could feel herself wanting to moan and she bit down hard on her lip, enough to draw blood, before two of Soap’s fingers found their way into her mouth. Emma sucked hard at them as he pushed down on her tongue, he himself groaning at the sensation feeling her gag a bit around them but it was keeping her mostly quiet. He was about to adjust himself to lift her up and take her over to the couch when a voice came over the headphones that stopped Soap dead.

“Echo three one, how copy?” Came Price’s voice, he sounded tired and irritated. Soap snapped his eyes up to Emma who had picked up on his sudden change and stopped moving. She had removed her headphones a while ago but Soap had kept them on just to be safe, one ear covered and one uncovered so he could hear Emma. “Echo three one, this is Price, how copy?”

“Price this is Soap,” Soap answered as he pulled his fingers from Emma’s mouth and pulled the headphones on fully, pressing the button on them to talk. Emma pushed up off the desk and moved to scramble off of him but he stopped her and grabbed her hips hard. “Echo three one is on a break,” he explained and Emma went to move off of him again but Soap held her fast and rocked her hips on him, a playful smirk on his lips.

“Soap. We’re on our way back, we’re about thirty minutes out. Is Sleeper there?” Price asked after a second. Soap’s eyes snapped to Emma and he reached for her headphones and slipped them over her ears so she could hear. “Yes sir, she’s here now, she was in the kitchen,” Soap said before waving his hand at Emma to get her to start talking.

“Price this is Sleeper,” Emma answered and then let go of the button to talk as Soap thrust up hard into her. She curled her lips into her mouth and shut her eyes to keep her composure, but Soap just continued as she struggled. She widened her eyes at him and mouthed the words for him to stop but he just ignored her and let his fingers gently find her clit again, all the while looking like he was determined to get her off while she tried to fight it off.

“Did we miss anything today with you and Alex? Anything of importance or did you hear from Laswell at all?” Price asked. They had been radio silence most of the day and Emma was cursing him for deciding now was the time to check in versus waiting thirty minutes to ask her in person. But time was always of the essence with these things so she couldn’t be too upset with him, how was he to know he had interrupted Soap properly fucking her into the desk.

“Nothing of importance,” Emma said as she fought to keep her breath even. Without her own volution her body started rocking her hips against Soap’s and he just dropped his head back a bit letting her ride on him. It was hard to not just fall apart at that, watching his face as she pleased him and feeling his fingers digging into her hips to resist letting himself climax. “We kept an eye on Mikhail most of the day, watched the club for any activity and monitored Soap and Cranes’ movements,” her words were rushed and she let go of the microphone button to moan into her own hand.

“Good,” Price came back over a moment later, he didn’t seem like he noticed anything was amiss. “Soap anything?” He asked a moment later and Emma pushed up off the desk to sit fully in Soap’s lap now, her feet planted firmly on the floor so she could bounce on him. Soap narrowed his eyes at her but Emma gave him an innocent smile, despite being bright red in the face for what they were doing. Turn about was fair play after all.

“We trailed him all day sir,” Soap said as Emma grabbed at his shoulders and used the leverage to really move herself on him. He was fighting hard to keep his composure, one hand controlling the microphone the other going to her backside to try and put up some sort of a fight against her ministrations and slow her down. “He met with the North Korea militia leader and we got some audio, but not much, nothing physical was exchanged,” he let go of the button again and grabbed Emma by the back of he head and forced her into a kiss so he could moan into her mouth.

“We didn’t get much but we’ll all talk when we get back,” Price stated before adding “over and out.” Then the radio went quiet.

Soap nearly ripped his headphones off his head, not caring where they fell as Emma pushed her own off, letting them fall to the floor with a clatter. “You’re lucky I can keep it together,” Soap ground out as his hands grabbed both of her ass cheeks and moved her on him. “Price would have both of our heads if he knew,” he admonished though it didn’t sound like he was truly upset with her.

“You started it,” Emma breathed before dropping her head onto his shoulder, letting him guide her to move how he wanted. He wasn’t being gentle, he wanted it hard and fast as he fucked into her, his hips jerking up from the chair as he pulled her down onto him. His fingers found her back entrance again and he rubbed a little more urgently against it than he had before, steering her toward that edge as he pushed his finger in every so slightly. Emma bit into his shirt, breathing in to keep from screaming out as she came hard around him before Soap held her down as he climaxed as well, his head falling back as he groaned deep in his chest.

“Fuck Emma,” Soap breathed before laughing a bit, his hands sliding up under her shirt to rest on her lower back. “That was a risk,” he leaned in and kissed her a few times as his breathing started coming back down to normal.

“It was,” Emma answered before gently rising up off him, wincing a bit as the burn in her legs from all the work she had just put in. “But I think you enjoy the risk,” she added as she bent down to grab her sweatpants. She would need to clean herself up this time, she was absolutely soaked between her own cum and his and she saw Soap looking at the glistening wetness on her legs with a crooked smile.

“You did as well,” he merely added before he arched his own hips up to replace his pants again. Somewhere upstairs there was the sound of creaking floorboards and Emma’s eyes quickly darted up to try and figure out if they were coming down the stairs or not but it sounded like they went to the bathroom as another door clicked shut. “Go clean up and we’ll get back at it,” he gestured to the monitors, “don’t need them getting back and thinking we were shirking our job.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #my fic #soap fanfic #call of duty #cod #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x oc #would it be enough?

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fcxyviixen · 1 year

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void

summary: mammon finds a young girl in the human world after being summoned once again. after hiding her for a little while, lucifer finds her and a fight starts. mammon leaves with the girl, however during that time a dark voice starts to pull at him. a deep feeling like tar by drawing strength on his wrath. he was gone for 14 years, the curse growing stronger.

pairing: n/a (mammon and brother centric)

rating: 14+

chapter wc: 1428

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of guns

reunited, poorly

Mammon looked out the broken window of the apartment. Dragging on a cigarette as he stared at the empty streets. His hair was a bit longer and thicker, more fluffier than the years prior. His blue eyes no longer held their shine, just deep dark ocean blue eyes. He flicked the ash out the window, then the bud. He ran a hand through his hair as he checked the time. It had now been exactly 14 years since Mammon had left the Devildom after the fight, and the demon kept true to his word, he didn’t go back. But, his brother’s sure as hell wasn’t letting him go. Every few years they would get a lead on him, but then he’d disappear with his daughter, Riko.

“Hey, Dad. I’m back.” Riko, the girl now entering 20 years old, greeted as she pushed the door open. This little girl had considered Mammon her father, the only one she ever had. “Welcome back. Where were ya?” Mammon asked, grabbing her for a side hug. A small smile on his normally dull lips. “Had ‘nother job from boss lady.” Riko said, placing her work bag on the torn up couch. Riko had begun to pick up Mammon’s type of speech. “Got a good payday for it.” She smiled, opening the bag. Some cash falling out. Mammon picked them up and set them on the couch. Normally his greed would make him want to take it all, but ever since leaving his greed isn’t as strong. Mammon noticed something was off with Riko. “What is it?” Mammon asked, crossing his arms. Riko sighed before rubbing her neck, “Code Demon.” She muttered, she noticed the anger in Mammon’s features as she said that. He just sighed heavily, something his elder brother used to do because of him before. “Where were they? Did they spot ya?” Mammon asked. “Near the abandoned building north of here.” Riko answered. “They’re definitely getting another lead, do we need ta disappear again?” She asked, watching her father pace the apartment. He then smiled a bit, a deep sickening smile.

“Let ‘em come.” Mammon smiled, a deep voice coming from him, along with a dark aura around him. He shook his head then looked at her, the darkness gone in a blink of an eye. “Which ones?” he then asked. “All six of ‘em, and a seventh one I haven’t seen before.” Riko answered. “Are you sure we’re gonna stay and let them find us?” She asked. “We’re both stronger now aren’t we? We can take ‘em.” Mammon said, grabbing a dark gun with red markings out of her bag. “You have this, and your magic and I have my demonic powers. As a team we’re unstoppable, remember Riko?” Mammon said Riko took the gun. “Damn straight.” She said. Mammon looked out the window again, looking north. He could feel their powers, their anger. His eyes narrowed as his sight allowed him to see farther down. He saw Lucifer and Beelzebub walking out of the building. He just watched them, however he didn’t see the seventh demon Riko mentioned. Mammon hummed slightly before walking away from the window. “Looks like they’re coming this way.” Mammon said, sitting down on the torn up couch. Riko sat down next to him. “Uhh.. Ya know just in case we get caught.. What do we do?” Riko asked. It was something neither of them talked about since it didn’t seem like the others would. “Don’t say a damn word to any of ‘em, resist all ya can.” Mammon said. “They’ll most likely try to separate us, so we can’t plan shit.”. Riko nodded, “Guess that’s the plan.” She said, holding her gun in her lap. She remembers the day Mammon took her away from his brothers.

It was something terrifying for her, but she felt safe when he came. She knew Mammon, the person she called ‘dad’, would protect her with his own life. She smiled a bit, “I’m really lucky to have you dad.” She said. Mammon looked at her, giving her a toothy grin. “I think we’re lucky to have each other.” He said, pulling her into a side hug. Mammon shot up soon after, the demonic energy feeling stronger than it was just 10 minutes ago. Especially next to the broken window. Riko gripped her gun, her finger next to the trigger. Mammon took a few steps towards the window, his demon form ready to manifest in a few seconds. He quickly reached out the side of the window and grabbed whoever was there. Throwing them inside and letting them get cut by the broken glass. The demon hit the ground with a large thud, trying to push themselves up, Riko’s gun was pressed to his temple. Mammon took a good look at the said demon, “Well, well. If it isn’t Belphegor.” Mammon said, his voice taunting. Belphegor looked up at Mammon, but didn’t move much when he saw the gun. “Mammon-” Belphegor tried to start, “I don’t want ta hear it.” Mammon cut him short, glaring at the youngest demon. Belphegor wasn’t in his demon form, he didn’t want to fight his older brother, but he was currently cornered by both Mammon, and the human. And a cornered demon doesn’t end well. “Well what are ya gonna do now Belphie?” Mammon asked, the nickname that used to hold so much love, now held so much resentment. “Mammon.. Please. Hear us out.” Belphegor pleaded. Mammon paused, a sickening voice in his head. Mammon.. You’re being cornered. It’s a trap.

Mammon glared at Belphegor before speaking again. “You’re brave, confronting me all by yourself. Where’s big ol strong Lucifer, or your twin Beelzebub hm?” Mammon asked, taunting Belphegor and stalling him. Trying to get what the younger demon had planned figured out before acting.

“I wanted to try and talk to you myself..” Lie. “Lucifer’s really sorry for what happened 14 years ago!” Lucifer isn’t. “Just, let’s try and fix this Mammon. To be a family again. Nothings been the same since you left.” He’s lying, everything’s been the same except for them not having their punching bag. Mammon continued to glare at Belphegor before laughing, a wicked sick laugh that didn’t sound like his own. “Really, Lucifer is sorry? The Avatar of Pride himself. Please, do you really think I’m that stupid Belphie, or well you do.” Mammon smiled, throwing his hands into the air. Riko just watched in silence, continuing to hold the gun to Belphegor’s head. “Mammon.. He is.. He hasn’t been the same since you left. He was the reason why we’re looking for you.” Belphegor tried to plead, but his eyes failed him. Belphegor’s purple hues landing on the wooden door. Lucifer’s here. The sickening voice screamed.

Mammon looked pissed, dark magic condensing in his hand before throwing it towards the wooden door, causing it to crack and break. The elder demon on the other side, just like the voice said. Lucifer held his arm up to block the attack, the demon’s shield appearing.

Lucifer wasn’t in his demon form, just in his regular human form. He dropped the shield as he looked at Mammon. He almost looked as if he was sad.

He’s tricking you, he isn’t sad. It’s an act.

Mammon glared at Lucifer, dark energy manifested around Mammon. His demon form, which looked dangerously different from 14 years ago. Mammon’s twisted horns were much larger than before, and looked even sharper.

His normal demon form which was just a leather jacket that covered his shoulders and leather belts around his chest, was now just the leather jacket part, the belts now were along the sleeves or his waist.

The white lines around his chest were no longer white, they were a blood red color. His bat-like wings much larger than before, and more spread out. His normal hands, replaced with dark claws as some of his veins even looked solid black, as if the dark energy was coursing through them. His eyes seemed to have turned colors as well, his usual blue and yellow eyes replaced with deep blood red ones. Mammon snicked as he saw Lucifer’s surprise at the different form.

“What surprised to see that your “precious” little brother has grown stronger?” Mammon asked, raising one of his claws up. Lucifer was a bit surprised, but the elder demon wiped it off his face quickly, like he usually did with every other emotion.

“Mammon..” Lucifer began, staring right into his younger brother’s blood red eyes. “Long time no see, little brother.”.

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers centric #obey me mammon centric #obey me shall we date #obey me brothers #mammon angst #vixies obey me fics

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thesantalorianfest · 8 months

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The SANTALORIAN Winter Fest is here

Hello Everyone!

I hereby announce you the very first edition of The SANTALORIAN Winter Fest. ❄️🎄🎉🎁

This is a Secret Santa event in the universe of The Mandalorian tv series, focusing on the main character, Din Djarin.

The sign-up is open until October 31.

You can read all the important information about the event under the Rules and Guidelines.

You can sign-up here.

If you plan to sign up, or you just like the idea, please reblog, so even more people in the fandom can hear about the event and have fun together under the stars of this beautiful galaxy far far away.

Rules and Guidelines:

General

1. THE SANTALORIAN WINTER FEST is a Secret Santa kind of event focusing on The Mandalorian tv series, especially on the main character, Din Djarin.

2. All participants must register via the sign-up form providing their preferred contact information, age, acknowledgement of reading and understanding the rules, gift requests and offers.

3. Participants must be at least 16 years old to sign up, and only those 18 years old or older may submit Mature- or Explicit-rated artwork or writing. If a participant is found not to be honest about their age, they will be disqualified and banned from possible future events.

4. It is possible to sign up both as an author and an artist.

5. Participants are expected to read and adhere to the rules of the event. If you need clarification about any of them, it is your responsibility to ask the mod for clarification.

6. All writing and art for this event must be your own, previously unpublished, and inspired by your given assignment.

7. This event is being promoted/hosted on Tumblr; however, it is not mandatory for participants to have a Tumblr account. Works can be posted on Tumblr, AO3, Dreamwidth, etc.

8. To ensure the anonymity of the gifts, participants are prohibited from sharing any details of what they’re working on prior the posting period.

Ships/Characters

9. This is an open-to-all-ships-and-characters event with only one rule: works are expected to center around the main character, The Mandalorian (Din Djarin).

10. Works do not have to be strictly canon in nature, but should still have some element related to canon universe, characters.

11. Creating in an Alternate Universe is allowed if it is mentioned by the giftee in their request.

12. Any ship (except underage) is allowed at this event.

13. If you don't feel like working with any kind of ship, be it romantic/platonic relationship or friendship, you can just take a dive into Din Djarin's head and create something frome there.

14. Bashing or shaming any actors, characters, ships, kinks, tropes or stylistic preferences will not be tolerated.

Communication

15. Check-ins are mandatory, and participants who fail to check in will be dropped from the event.

16. If a participant misses a check-in, the mod will make one attempt to reach out. If no response is forthcoming in the next 48 hours, the participant will be dropped from the event and a pinch-hitter found if necessary.

17. If a participant needs to drop out or they are having trouble working on their assignment, they have to contact the mod as soon as possible.

18. If a participant does not submit their gift by the deadline date and fail to contact the mod, they will not be eligible to participate in possible future events.

Author Requirements

19. Authors will create one complete story inspired by one of their giftee’s requests.

20. The story must be at least 2,000 words in length. There is no maximum length.

21. The story must have all the appropriate warnings and ratings.

22. The story must be at least minimally beta-read for spelling and grammar before posting.

23. Any character depicted in a mature or explicit sexual situation should be 18 years or older.

Artist Requirements

24. Artist will create an artwork inspired by one of their giftee’s requests.

25. Artists are required to complete one (1) piece of artwork.

26. Accepted art forms:

● Digital art/drawing/painting

● Traditional media artwork such as pencil, charcoal, acrylic, watercolor, etc. Both 2D and 3D works are acceptable as long as they are clearly photographable or scanned to minimum image requirements.

● Moodboards with min. 6 images

● Gifsets with min. 6 images (made and edited by the artist)

● Playlists with at least 12 songs.

● Video submissions a minimum 60 seconds in length (Must include a disclaimer for any and all clips and music used.)

27. Other artwork guidelines/restrictions:

● Images should be of a minimum 500px width, with no maximum size limit.

● Any character depicted in a mature or explicit sexual situation should be 18 years or older.

● NO AI-generated artwork will be allowed.

28. The art must have all the appropriate warnings and ratings.

29. Credit to any source material must be given.

How it works

30. You can sign up for the TSWF by filling out the sign-up form.

31. The information you give in your sign-up form will be the deciding factor in the gift you’re going to create and the gift you’re going to receive.

32. You have to request 3 different prompts. You can specify your favorite characters, ships, etc. and any characters or ships that you don’t want to be featured in your gift, or that you don’t want to include in the gift you make. You can also add the content you are comfortable creating (SFW and NSWF likes, favorite tropes, Do Not Wants). You can also give 5 additional tags that could help with the matching process.

33. After the sign-up closes, every participant will be matched with an other participant based on both what they are able to create, and what they are willing to create.

34. After all the participants have been matched, you will receive your assignment on November 2nd.

Posting

35. The gift posting will start on December 24th and ends on December 31st. The finished gift can be posted on Tumblr, AO3, Dreamwidth, etc. The participants will get more helpful details about posting in mid December.

@swfandomevents

#the mandalorian #secret santa #star wars #din djarin #gift exchange #fanfiction #fanart #mando #this is the way #announcement

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minnieves · 2 years

Text

thank you for your comments and support. happy reading!

bj ben part one, two, three, five

new to the bj series? see here for the guide.

warnings: filming, implications of sending and receiving nudes

summary: you're missing ben's lives due to the workload that beomgyu is giving for his class.

"ben!" you called out. making beomgyu stop in his tracks. you realised what you called him when he turned to look at you. his eyes dark and his brows furrowed. "i meant beomgyu. i'm so sorry. i was thinking of what to say to you, so my words all came into one."

"oh?" beomgyu said. not believing what you just told him. his heart rate is picking in pace at the idea that you know. anyone else picking up would be no big deal. they're not you. you're standing in the middle of the library with your works in your hand. "i think you're mistaking me for someone else."

"love, i'm sorry," you coughed. holding his arm since he looks like he's going to run from you. he wasn't meeting your eyes and you're going to be late for your next class if you force more. "i'm supposed to say that, here are my report which is supposed to be for next monday. been it early than later."

"are you going to miss class?" he asked as he checks on your report. glancing at you occasionally as he reads through them.

"if you miss me, i'll try not to miss our mondays," you teased him. nudging his arm lightly making beomgyu chuckle at your actions. "even if i do attend, i may need to leave halfway or even earlier."

"why is that?" he asked you. tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. his hand holdings yours, even intertwining them. the other holding your report.

"i'm scheduled for a checkup," you told him. looking around subtly to check if anyone is from your department. you feel like you're in a secret relationship with beomgyu. so secret only one of you knows about it. "don't miss me too much!"

"about the photos," he started. making you turn your head towards him. feeling nervous at the sudden bring up of your mistake three weeks prior.

"do you want more?" you asked, jokingly. trying to lighten up the already heavy atmosphere. you let go of his hand as you pretend to fiddle with your lanyard. "it was a mistake."

"you can't make mistakes like that," he whispered. already having you cornered at one of the bookshelf. you raised your head not wanting to look like a coward in front of him.

"are you suggesting that i intentionally sent it?" you asked.

"it's unlikely of you to make mistakes y/n," he told you. gripping the shelving near your waist. watching your reaction. usually, by now you'd feel bashful. but you don't look like that to beomgyu. making him question your actions more.

"oh love, are you upset that i sent it unintentionally?" you asked him. dragging the last word on your tongue to tease him. you look at him while smirking. wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him towards you. "i thought you said something about it being unprofessional? beomgyu you seemed like you're begging for more."

beomgyu closed his eyes as he tries to regain control of the conversation. removing your hand from his nape. holding them both down using one of his hands. the other is raising your chin further with your report paper.

"you're already a great student y/n," he told you. eyes looking at yours with a hint of something else.

"i'm a stellar student, beomgyu. i don't need to seduce anyone for better grades," you remind him. leaning forward the tips of your nose brushing against each other. "it was a mistake. if you're seduced by that mistake, there's no shame in being honest."

"i'm trying to reprimand you," he told you. parting from you when he noticed other students passing by. straightening his clothes to appeal more composed. he doesn't look like that to you though.

"oh? should i meet you after office hours, love?" you asked him. beomgyu is losing composure and you feel like you're winning your little banter. "are you going to spank me, kind sir?"

"y/n," he called you in a domineering tone. you just look at him. tilting your head to one side as if you're mimicking innocence.

"don't let it get in your head," you told him. gently tapping your foot against the floor. you glanced at him once more. winking when you saw how he looked at you confused. "i was just teasing you. though, you sending back is very much welcome."

you gave him another wink before walking away. hurriedly walking into one of the loo. looking at yourself for a second before hurrying into one of the stalls.

"oh my god," you whispered. sitting down on the closed toilet. one hand on your chest as you feel how fast and loud it was. you lean your head forward as you closed your eyes. trying to calm yourself down. "i must've gone mad."

bj ben's live countdown...

you stared at the screen as you wait for ben to turn the live on. you're playing with your pen in one hand. moving your chemistry reports to one side. you've been busy lately. ben's live and your schedule not matching. so you feel pleased when you have time for today.

three weeks which means six lives. you missed that much. somehow you felt sad that you've missed that much. the uploaded aftermath of the live is not as exciting as the live itself.

"i missed you," you whispered sadly.

"i missed you!" a lively voice erupted from the screen. startling you with loud it was. you look at the screen in shocked. ben was still fixing his camera as he makes himself comfortable. "aww, don't be sad love."

you sat comfortably now that you've seen ben. you felt contented with his appearance on the screen. it's been a while so you knew how normal it would be to miss him.

"you're unfair," he said. making you glance at him as he talks to the camera. you watch how he tilts his head to one side as he read the comments.

"how am i unfair?" you asked. you feel a tad bit upset. maybe he's referring to you missing his lives? maybe he didn't like how you're missing his lives. you can't help but curse at beomgyu for giving you so much workload.

"i have so much from you," he said. eyes glancing at the gifts that he'd receive over the last couple of months. "still, i can't get enough of you."

"what do you want?" you asked. checking your back account if you have any spare money to spend on him. you hear him smack his lips. as if he was thinking on what to say.

"i find myself craving for you," he whispered. eyes darting at your picture on his other monitor. the picture that you sent him unintentionally. making him throw his head back as he comb his hair out of his face. "what spell did you cast on me?"

"what are you talking about?" you asked. grabbing your toys from your drawer as you glance back at him. "okay, then be obsessed with me."

"i miss you. even if we're talking. i still crave your attention," he said. thinking about the times you reject his advances. sighing when he reads the comments about wanting him back. he thought to himself, everyone wants me but you. "am i so hard to like?"

"what are you talking about?" you asked. flabbergasted that someone doesn't like ben. how can anyone not like ben? you thought.

"it's okay, i have you," he said. as if trying to comfort you. that he got it covered. you gently played with your dildo. looking at ben's buldge as you do. "you fill in the gaps that i seek."

"ben, can we please go back to degradation?" you asked. you felt shy that he's complimenting you. sure his theme is ldr boyfriend, but you still feel shy. you couldn't help it, he looks so good but kept on praising you.

"wow. i'm out here professing my feeling for you, but you're craving to be degraded?" he asked. sounding like he's pissed at you for asking for more. you heard his tongue clicked in his mouth. "you're nasty. my dirty little whore."

his eyes glanced on his other screen. his wallpaper is of the group photo that you took during the seminar. not because he likes everyone, but because of you. you're standing beside him. his arm wrapped around your shoulder as you're both smiling widely. can you not like me too y/n? he asked himself.

"i'm almost out of this," he said. showing the perfume to the camera. his other hand undoing his pants. it's the same perfume that you have. "anyone who goes here would think that i'm obsessed with you."

"do you not want that?" you asked. gently sucking on your dildo. swirling your tongue around your toy like it's his cock. you squirted some lube on your clit as you wait for him. your fingers moving in soft circular motions. "i want that."

"i don't want to seem greedy," he whispered. his hand pumping his cock lightly. his thumb and index gently squeezing around his head. giving him more pressure on his sensitive tip.

you're suddenly reminded of beomgyu. remembering your conversation with him earlier. you admit to sending it unintentionally, but he doesn't seem bothered by it. he seemed more annoyed over the fact that you might be sending it to others.

you know that from his wording, he wanted more. he just didn't know how to ask for it. you grabbed your phone as you open your chat with him. it was just a bunch of chemistry related messages.

"this one's nice," you whispered. sending a video of you. wearing a flannel which looks like the ones he usually wear. you're not really showing much. just your thighs, some flesh by your collarbone, and you neck. your face is not even shown.

y/n: sent 1 attacment

y/n: oops

y/n: i'm so sorry love, intentional

you placed your phone down. ignoring the pinging sounds from the other screen. thinking that maybe it was yours and not ben's.

his head turn towards his other screen. clicking on your chats with him. beomgyu moaned when he saw what you sent him. fingers already clicking to download the video just in case you delete it again. he threw his head back as he gently tug on his cock.

"you do know how to apologise," he said. head moving back towards the screen. you squirted some more lube on your dildo. spreading it around for an even tension. "show me how much of a whore you are for me, love."

you slowly inserted the dildo inside you. hissing when you realised that you're not as used to using this dildo. maybe since it's been a while since you used one. touching yourself just by playing with your clit.

"fuck, baby," he moaned. his hand gripping on his cock harder. his other hand softly playing with his balls. he threw his head back as he thinks about you. "oh my god, love."

he's thinking about how you'd touch him. how your fingers would feel against his body. how your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. the image of you making his eyes roll.

"ben," you moaned. trying to keep up with his movements. you grabbed your phone to turn the speed on. eyes moving towards his cock. "what's on your mind?"

"you, all of you," he whispered. almost sounding like he's pleading. like he's in pain that you're not the one touching him. he reclined more on his seat. imagining all the filthy things he'd do to you. "you know how to fuck with my head."

"of course. you're my boyfriend," you whispered. moving your hips as you meet your hands. the dildo fully stretching you out as you moan. you're thinking about how good ben would feel inside you. his thick cock is probably bigger than your toy. "fuck, want more."

"so greedy," he moaned. his hips bucking on his fist as he runs his thumb across his tip. he's feeling so good. his eyes moving to his other screen. your video playing in a loop. all beomgyu could think about is marking you up. "you're doing so good, love."

bearben: show your stomach (+€50,00)

ben was startled by the sound. tongue darting from his lips when he saw who sent him the tip. it's from his favourite viewer. how could he not do it?

"oh you're so pretty," you moaned. you're expecting a soft stomach. he looks cuddly, so you weren't expecting a toned stomach. your cunt clenching around the toy.

you sat down properly. holding on your desk as you ride on your dildo. ben moaning from the screen. his tip leaking with so much precum. you peeked your tongue out, wanting to taste him in your mouth. the image making you moan.

"can you see how hard you made me?" he said. hand flexing as he fist his cock. his hips occasionally bucking. he comb his hair up. his brows furrowed as his eyes are closed. "watch the effect you have on me."

"fuck," you moaned. hand groping your breast as you move on your dildo. moving back and forth as you comb your hair. you pulled your shirt off. groping on your flesh harder. mimicking the idea of how rough he would be on you.

"come on baby, ride your toy better," he said. his hips bucking on his hand. imagining that you're riding a dildo while you're watching him. are you groping yourself? are sweaty from all these? how fast would you be going? would you be drenching whatever is under you? were some of the questions he have.

he let out a gasp with what he's thinking. there's no way you'd be into this. but he still couldn't help himself. fuck, you'd look so good full of his cock. he thought. moaning as he tried to open his eyes to take a peek at your video.

"fuck, i'd feel you up so good love," he said. making you whine at his comment. your movements more desperate on your dildo. watching ben's cock in his hands. his tip and balls red. like they want to be sucked dry.

"i want that," you moaned. feeling your climax approaching you. you held onto the back of your chair. moving your hips back and forth on your toy. rolling your eyes from pleasure.

"want me to cum inside you?" he asked. groaning at what he said. his head thinking about how you'd look full of his cum. "want me to fill you up?"

"yes! please," you sobbed. knuckles turning white with how your head is spinning. gripping on your chair for dear life. mouth parting as prayers of moan comes out of it. "i want to cum."

"come. go ahead and cum, my love," he said. making you cum. your body shooting forward as your eyes roll backwards. your hand gripping on your table as you move slowly on your dildo.

you watch ben cum. his cum squirting on his thighs and stomach. making you clench around your dildo. he always cums so much. the idea of him cuming inside you is driving you insane.

you went out of the bathroom. getting ready for bed when you decided to check your phone. you have a notification from beomgyu, three hours ago.

choi beomgyu: sent 1 attachement

choi beomgyu: happy with what you did?

your fell on your bed as you watch the video. it was a video of his cock. his cum on his thighs and stomach. his cock still visibly hard. his large hand gently fisting it as if he's riding his high.

you don't need sleep anyway. you click on another post live video of ben. one that you missed because of the very man who turned you once again.

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt suggestive #txt scenarios #txt imagines #beomgyu smut

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randomgooberness · 1 year

Note

This is in reference to the one post where Gordon gets all embarrassed for talkin like a kid (and maybe I missed something) But does Freemind sign "sorry", or say it out loud? I'm so curious if ya'll have a reason for how or why Mind signs, or the fact that Gordon can even UNDERSTAND it !!

(ask is referencing this post)

TYSM FOR THIS ASK! WE HAVE A LOT TO SAY ON IT LMAO. @shineyfish 's answer: MIND SIGNS IT HE LOVES LANGUAGES!!! there's lots of points in Freeman's Mind where he speaks in different languages or references shit to do with that so it's a big hc of mine that he knows how to speak a bunch of different languages. Can't have prior potentially talking shit about him, and you can't talk shit about him if he always knows what you're saying! Hilariously to me though is that he Canonically doesn't know Morse code. Sign language in particular I feel like he'd know because it's a language where you don't need to speak to use it. That's perfect for anything where you need to be silent, for example, being in Panama with your buddy Eddie and you don't want to get caught.

My answer:

From Gordons POV, in my headcanons, he grew up learning sign language because of his autism- it made it easier for him to communicate nonverbally, especially because he was mostly mute for the first few years of his life(to which when he was like 7 or 8 he switched to never shutting up LMAO). Gordon couldn't actually understand that specific moment where Mind signed, because he wasn't facing him and was moving, so he didn't really see it- just a bit of movement(hence why he's confused in the comic). However, there IS a scene that took place a day or so prior(in act 1, that comic is in early act 2) that had them using it. I shared a small screenshot of the scene because it was really funny to me, but Ace agreed to let me edit it up and post the full segment here! Have a treat :D

This takes place after they get outside for the first time and run from the airstrikes- and go into the vents with the skeleton and the sweet voice.

WARNING FOR: ableism(internalized and external) and (technically)self-harm

"It can't be THAT hard to fly a fuckin plane!"

Mind laughed, half joking with that as he moved forward.

It didn't take long until he was whining again.

"Why are so many people trying to kill me?? I'm awesome! Are they jealous?"

He didn't have enough bullets for all of them at the rate they were going at. The military should give peace a chance, or at least stand still.

"I'm calling dibs on the med station."

"Go ahead," Gordon chuckled. "Yeah, I think they're just jealous of you. They uh. They think the Science Team is too sexy to live." He wheezed.

"YES!"

Mind hooked himself up the the med station, silently begging the thing for what he wanted.

The med station, checking his vitals and seeing he wasn't mortally injured, did not give him any morphine.

"NO!"

He rested his head against the thing as it appropriately treated his more minor injuries. He didn't want to say he was getting desperate, because he wasn't, and if you thought that you were wrong, but... It was hard to be sober around this place.

He laughed joylessly.

"They've got it all wrong. We're actually too sexy to die."

"Exactly!" Gordon laughed, clapping his hands. "Let's uh, c'mon, Bubby I- dude what are you charging in the HEV suit station."

"My MP3 player." Bubby said.

"What?"

"Don't tell anyone~!"

"...Okay," Gordon wheezed. "Is that what's playing the Russian speaking?"

"The what?" Bubby looked...genuinely confused by that question. "No?"

"What speaking?" Dr. Coomer tilted his head. Gordon sighed.

"...Nothing. Let's move on."

Whatever the fuck Gordon was talking about, Mind was a little concerned about it. Being overly Paranoid that you're seeing things can be good when you need to look for enemies, but hearing things that aren't there? That could be a problem.

Whatever. It wasn't too much of a problem right now, and they still had hallways to go through for a second time. He never wants to look at a hallway ever again. His headache was a little worse, and now that the noise was muffled he had a ringing in his ears.

"Why do you get an MP3 player?? And why does the HEV station charge it??"

"I want to listen to my tunes," Bubby said. "The HEV station charges anything."

"I use it for my bionic body!" Dr. Coomer nodded.

Gordon rounded over to a vent nearby. From it, odd humming and whistling could be heard- alien sounding. Like the Sweet Voice. He pulled out his gun and headed inside. Mind heard it too, flinching.

"...No. no, it's dead, we watched the bitch get torn apart by the doors, there's no way it survived that. I'm either just imagining that, which is concerning, or mistaking the sound..."

He didn't seem to be talking to anyone, although kept his gun ready as he spoke.

If nothing could kill that- that thing, then... "We really are fucked."

"No...No, I'm hearing it too, man," Gordon muttered. He was shocked that this vent was big enough to stand in, and walked cautiously. "...Maybe there's more like him here? I mean, it's called the Black Mesa Sweet Voice- it might...I dunno. We'll see. Maybe it's friendly."

"I doubt that, if Mall-cop was anything to go off of, it'll be irritating at best."

Following close behind Gordon, gun at the ready, he could feel his heartbeat. Something about the mere thought of seeing that thing again sent a spike of fear through him.

"At worst? I don't think I want to know."

"Yeah," Gordon laughed. "I'm tryin' uh. To be an optimist. Sucks."

"That's the problem, optimism gets you nowhere in the long run. At some point, you need to cut your losses and start breaking shit."

"It sounds, friendly," Tommy spoke up.

"Oh, right- you can read it.” Gordon perked up, looking at the taller scientist. “What's it saying right now?"

"Umm..." Tommy tried to focus. "I-I dunno, I can't really tell without the- without the colors."

"Oh, okay. We'll see in a bit, then."

They rounded a corner, and Gordon noticed a figure.

"Wait for my word, do not shoot."

A flash from a camera behind them.

"Don't take pictures flash photography scares him."

They got a little closer, and the figure was still hard to see in the dark.

"...Hello?" Gordon called.

A small buzz emitted from it, and then a few lower ones, purple. Gordon got closer, and sucked air between his teeth when he noticed it was a fucking skeleton.

"...Do you know what that is?" He whispered to Tommy, who shrugged.

As they turned the corner, Mind kept his grip on his gun, assuming it to be an army recruit. He couldn't make out a weapon, but he wasn't taking any chances on that.

He didn't believe his eyes when he saw it properly.

Option one, he was hallucinating. This was bad for the obvious reasons, but he was skeptical on that because the others were clearly seeing it too.

Option two, there was a real, living, sweet voice using skeleton in front of him. This was almost worse, because it immediately made him worry about Benrey. He watched him die. Now he wasn't so sure.

Option three, group hysteria. He wasn't certain on this one.

"... I'm not seeing that. There is no way I am seeing that."

"...I think we are," Gordon stammered, eyes huge.

The skeleton made a few more noises, sort of like a guitar plucking.

"Stay back- stay back staaay back-" It was hard to tell if Gordon was talking to the skeleton, or to The Science Team. "...You guys have any ideas?"

"...I could always punch it," Dr. Coomer tilted his head, though he didn't seem so sure.

The skeleton whistled a few times, a soft, odd noise, before it made a honk noise.

"...Okay, on three, we rush it," Gordon muttered. "God, I'm scared-"

Tommy perked up.

"Wait, no!" He cried.

"What?! What?! Do you know what it is!?"

"That's green!" Tommy asserted.

"What does green mean!?"

"Green means he's not mean!"

"So-"

Gordon was interrupted by repeated whistling and buzzing, a flail of colors appearing.

"What does that mean-" He choked. "What is he saying?!"

And then, suddenly, the skeleton reached a high pitch that continued on and on, and it was deafening, bouncing against the metal of the vents they were in and stabbing into their ears.

Mind almost dropped his gun, rushing to cover his ears. Too LOUD. Too MUCH.

"SsHHHHUUTT UP SHUT UP, BE QUIET!!"

"OW- FUCK-!" Gordon yelped, now covering his own ears.

It hurt. It hurt. Mind felt like his brain was melting, and without thinking he started shooting blindly at the thing, eyes squeezed shut and ears awkwardly pressed between his free hand and his shoulder.

He needed this thing dead... Again.

Unfortunately, he didn't think about the current location they were in, and the gunshots only echoed in the vents alongside the creature. He really should have brought his earplugs to work, but they might not have done much for whatever fresh hell this was.

"JUST KILL IT I CANT HANDLE IT-!" Bubby screeched. Gordon, as if he were an attack dog, started bolting toward the thing with a shout- leading the way as the rest of the team followed.

The skeleton, who didn't react much to the bullets, started running as well.

Mind squinted his eyes open, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he did, and saw the group running. Unbearable physical pain be damned, he ran after them, not wanting to be left behind.

He needed to make sure that thing stopped existing, even if the process of doing so was going to make him want to commit atrocities... More than usual.

Bubby raced ahead of Gordon and took out- ...oh god that was an RPG.

Before anyone could say anything, the trigger was pulled, and a rocket blasted through the vents before exploding against the metal, sending a blast of heat and deafening ringing toward everyone.

...And, not only did it not break the vents they were in, but Gordon and the rest seemed to not even care, locked on their target.

Mind, who had uncovered his ears, deciding to just grin and bear it until the thing was dead, caught the full sound of the explosion.

In almost an instant his body decided enough was enough, and he screeched, falling to his knees and covering his ears, gun forgotten beside him. His palms were pressed hard enough to hurt, and he was almost certain that when he took them away, the imprint of the gloves would be on his face.

He didn't care. He just needed the ringing to stop.

He didn't even notice the tears falling until he took a breath, shaky and broken, and heard himself sob. What filled his chest at that was a red-hot shame. What kind of idiot couldn't handle a little bit of noise? Even at that, he didn't need to cry at it, he was being pathetic. He was sure of it, nobody else could see him like this.

The gunshots were muffled and distant, still ringing through the vents as they got further and further away- much louder than a scream, a loud, panicked conversation, and then a bit of talking.

The first thing Mind properly heard was footsteps and Gordon's voice.

"God, where is he- shit I hope he's okay-"

The large man turned the corner, and perked up, before racing over and sliding on his knees- he immediately put a hand on his shoulder.

"Woah- heyheyheyhey- are you alright!?"

Without thinking, Mind HISSED at the guy, immediately scratching and pushing the guy away. Space, he needed space, don't look at him-

"GGET THE- GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!"

His voice is rough from sobbing, but there's a significant growl to it.

"IF YOU COME ANY- A-ANY CLOSER I WILL NOT HHHESITATE TO BITE YOU."

For a split second he looked Gordon in the eyes, and his own were full of fear. It wasn’t for long though, as he very quickly covered his face, scratching at his eyes with a screech in an attempt to make everything less.

"Woah-! Hey-" Gordon backed up, eyes huge.

He didn't know what to do here- granted, he barely understood what was going on, but he had a feeling this might be related to all the noise from earlier. He himself fucking hated it, but he went into a tunnel vision trying to kill the damn skeleton as a way to cope- and regretted it, because it meant he left Mind alone. Not to mention, his ears were still ringing.

He backed up a bit more, and sat down across from Mind, face twisted in worry.

"Hey, keep your- don't touch your face, man."

"I'LL DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT!"

There was too many people looking at him, he could feel it-

He hated these stupid gloves and their protective rubber, dragging them over his face just left a dull ache. If he didn't have them on he'd be able to be done with this, the sting from his nails usually tipped it over the edge for him and his stupid brain would start to calm down again. Sure, he normally had to hide the marks until they faded when he was at work, but it's the middle of an alien apocalypse, was he not allowed ONE source of relief in this hell?

After another attempt, he sobbed again, taking his hands down and looking at Gordon with a tear-streaked face. He looked tired. He felt tired. He didn't want to be here anymore.

Gordon frowned, shrinking a bit as he watched him.

He was a little scared, honestly- he didn't want this guy to suddenly snap and decide he was an enemy. He didn't...entirely trust anyone here, but that trust was building, at least a little.

He didn't know why he was starting to trust these people, despite how fucking stupid they all acted, or how mean to him they tended to be. He already sort of considered them friends, and hoped they could all still talk after all this was over.

Naturally, this was scary to see, because of that. But he decided friends should trust and support one another- that's what he heard all his life.

He swallowed, fiddling with his hands and looking at the ground.

"It's- you're alright, dude, we're. I dunno if we're safe right now but we're...you can breathe, I'm here, alright?"

Was that what you were supposed to say? He wasn't sure.

Mind felt weak. He felt so weak. Useless, pathetic, there was no way in hell these people will be able to look at him the same. He needs to get out of here.

As he tried to move though, he was shaking too much, that annoying tremble in his hands from earlier now a full-fledged tremor.

He only distantly heard Gordon's words but he laughed at it, hollow. What, did he think he needed help? Did he think he wasn't strong enough? He would have snapped back at him if the exhaustion wasn't so strong in him. Whatever. He took a deep breath, or tried to, curling in on himself.

"Hey- dude, please sit down- please?" Gordon put his hands out. "You're- you need to calm down, first, alright? Can you-" He paused, looking him up and down. "Auh, fuck, okay gimme a sec."

He paused, thinking- when he was little and had basically daily meltdowns, not long after he became verbal, one of his old teachers used to give him a cup of water so he'd be distracted and stop crying- he later used this technique on Josh all the time.

After a bit, he went through their collection from the vending machines and took out a bottle of water. He opened it and set it down in front of Mind.

The guy looked between the bottle and Gordon. Trying to think of any tricks, any ulterior motives, anything.

He came back with nothing. It registered as a discrepancy to him, why was there no trick to this?

Suspicious, he took the bottle, slowly raising it and taking a sip, eyes on Gordon practically the whole time.

Taking a sip felt gross in his mouth, and he cringed slightly, but drank a little more.

He didn't like admitting that it did make him feel better, and his brain was still shot with panic about what that was as he sat the bottle back down in between them.

Gordon didn't look at him very much- though the guy already avoided a lot of eye contact unless something stupid was said. He continued to play with his gloves a bit, nervous, and when the bottle was set down, he looked at Mind again, studying his breathing and making sure it was slower.

"...Are you able to talk?" He asked, softly.

Mind opened his mouth to say something sarcastic back at him, Yeah of course I can talk, I'm not a toddler.

... Only to find that he could not talk.

The shame was back, he hated this.

Shaking his head no, he brought his knees closer to his chest, practically death-staring Gordon. This is your fault, somehow.

"...Okay, that's fine- I-I go nonverbal sometimes, too," Gordon said. "Do you know sign language? Or would you rather, would you rather we have uh. Fuckin. Would you rather we have quiet time?"

Quiet time. Just hearing the words made Mind want to hurt someone. It felt childish, and he wasn't a child. He was just as damn capable as the rest of them, voice or not.

Luckily for him though, he did know sign language. Unluckily for everyone else, his hands still shook, and he was absolutely going to get snappy if he had to repeat himself.

"Sign."

Gordon perked up.

"Okay-! Great! That's- that's great, uh," He looked back over to the charred vent nearby, and then to Mind. "Do you need anything in particular right now? I-I'm uh, k-kinda scared to leave you alone, cause...I mean. Aliens." He gestured. "But if you want um, me to be quiet, or me to uh, talk? Or distract you? I-I can do that-"

Mind shifted, snapping his fingers.

"Shut up. Pay attention."

He took a second, and another sip from the water, before continuing.

"Don't like this any more than you do. I can still handle myself, not useless."

He paused.

"... I don't like noise."

"...That's...fine. I don't, either." Gordon said. "And I know you aren't useless, you've- I mean, you've kinda been the most normal guy here- and uh, you're smart."

He curled his knees to his own chest, looking at the ground, before deciding it was important to make sure if he knew Mind was signing or not.

"...I-I've kinda needed you as a source of grounding this whole time, man. It's...everything else is fucked and these people, I-I care about them but they're fucking...confusing."

The other guy had started signing something, before it died on his hands as he processed that.

Mind wasn't expecting at all to be told he was wanted, let alone that he was smart and helped ground the guy.

Some weight eased itself off of his shoulders, and he finally looked away from Gordon with such scrutiny.

"... Thank you. This place is fucking insane," another pause, "doesn't surprise me that you need me here just to make sense of everything."

Gordon let out a wheeze.

"Oh, it is fucking insane, I don't- the rest of the gang is exploring up ahead, but uh...yeah no. Today fucking sucks. And...I dunno what that skeleton was but- that noise and us shooting shit in the vents? Dude, I thought I was gonna throw up," He straight up laughed. "It- my ears are ringing still. And I'm still hearing weird fucking Russian."

Mind laughed, silently shaking before snapping his fingers again, a smile on his face.

"What is with the Russian?? I'm surprised I didn't throw up if I'm honest."

His expression dropped, and he looked down the vents to where the skeleton went.

"Did you kill it?"

“…I dunno, uh- the vent suddenly dropped off, into uh. Fan blades. Bubby fell in and didn’t get hurt, somehow,” Gordon said. “Uh, they all started to figure out how to get through when I realized you weren’t with us, so I came back here to see if you were okay.”

Mind paused, going over the words in his head.

It occurred to him that he hasn't tried to find a secondary motive or worry about any aliens spawning in beside them for a bit now. He didn't know how he felt about that.

"...Thank you."

“Oh- yeah, man, of course! I-I want us to get out, leaving you would be shitty, you don’t deserve that.” Gordon said, and then started feeling a bit of his Dad Mode instincts kick in again. “You feeling better? Need food? I have more uh, more chips.”

Mind smiled weakly, exhaustion from his breakdown still flooding his system.

"I'm good for now. Don't think I could eat even if I wanted to. Finishing this water though."

He picked up the bottle, tracing over the side of it.

“Good- good idea.” Gordon chuckled softly. “You uh, you do that. Then we can see if we can catch up with the team, alright? Or wait as long as you need.”

He pauses, hesitant.

“…Uh, there have been a few times where I’ve forgotten earplugs for heavier experiments, and uh. Got overstimulated and shut down, a-and I always locked myself in my office when that happened, cause I was…I didn’t want to be judged. So…I uh. I can kinda get…if you wanted to wait a bit longer. I-I’m pretty sure the Science Team is chill, I know for a fact Dr. Coomer is autistic- Bubby and Tommy haven’t told me themselves but they’re. I dunno. I don’t think they’ll be shitty. But we can still wait.”

Mind’s grip on the bottle tightened slightly, and he put it down again to sign.

"I'm not autistic. I just... Can't handle too much noise. And it isn't my fault that other people can't do things the right way."

If the only reason Gordon was being nice to him is because he thought he was Autistic, he didn't want it. He wasn't broken. He didn't know why his chest hurt at the thought of that.

He looked away.

"I can move in just a second."

Gordon raised an eyebrow at that- it wasn’t in any offense, it was…well, it looked sorta like he doubted him, kind of a sure buddy, whatever you say expression.

“Take your time, man. I don’t mind waiting.”

Bite, chomp, kill. Mind let it go, for now, not having the energy to argue.

After another minute or so, he started to move, grabbing the bottle. He went to check for his gun as well, before realising it wasn't holstered, and looked around frantically, panic rising.

He spotted it close by Gordon, and practically lunged at the thing to put it back where it belongs.

"Okay, now I'm ready."

Gordon gave him a smile, and with a grunt, he stood up, stretching.

“Houghman, Alright, let’s-“

He was interrupted by footsteps, and turned around, noticing Bubby turn the corner.

“Dead-end.” He grumbled, Dr. Coomer and Tommy following behind.

“Huh!?” Gordon gestured. “Wh- why?! Really!? How big is this place!?”

...

TYSM FOR READING :3 SORRY IF IT'S A BIT MESSY, AGAIN THIS WAS ORIGINALLY AN RP BETWEEN ME AND @shineyfish !

#hlvraifm #asks #cw: ableism #cw: self-harm #SORRY IF THIS ANSWER IS MESSY. I WAS SORTA DRUNK WHEN I STARTED ANSWERING IT AND IM STILL KINDA BUZZED LMAOOOO #freeman's mind

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airasora · 11 months

Text

A pawn upon a board

A Thrax and Odette fanfic.

Rating: T

Word count: 11.249k

Prison AU

FanFiction.net link

Summary: How does a queen get exiled from her kingdom all the way to a prison not even in the same galaxy? That's exactly what happens to poor Odette! Sadly though, after years of abuse from everyone in her life, her hardships are far from over when one of the extraterrestrial inmates decides she's his to claim. But can an unexpected romance can blossom in an equally unexpected place?

Author's 1st note: Less than a month ago, I shared a quick draft idea for a Thraxette fanfic that I shared on my tumblr and YouTube channel. This fanfic is inspired by that draft. It turned out WAY longer than I originally planned to, but it’s been a long time since I last wrote a piece of fanfiction that wasn’t just 1k words or such, so I took my time with and allowed myself to just keep writing as long as I felt inspired to do so. This is my first actual piece of Thraxette fanfiction and I am very happy with it!

For now, this is just a one-shot, I am not planning on writing more for this… for now 😈 Let me know what you think and where you hope this story will go!

There’s a FAQ at the very end of this fanfic, so please check that for any questions you may have! If you can’t find an answer, feel free to leave a review/comment etc. If you prefer to be anonymous, you can also ask me on my tumblr which allows anonymous asks 😊

Also, this story takes place in the same universe as Treasure Planet does, meaning both humans and aliens exist etc.

Warning: Domestic physical and sexual abuse is mentioned.

Odette was thankful that her father died years ago. Surely seeing his daughter be sent to prison for murdering the man he had arranged her marriage to would have sent him to the grave anyhow. At least he died knowing she would marry his intended for her. At least he died thinking they were going to be happy. At least he died not knowing what his only child would become.

A few years ago, Princess Odette married her betrothed Prince Derek, successfully joining their kingdoms forever. They had been betrothed for as long as Odette could remember, spending every dreaded summer together. The only thing she and Derek agreed on was that they hated each other. Summers were spent bullying each other, being pushed around by the adults around them and were the most dreaded time of the year for them both.

Due to the lack of her deceased mother’s influence, King William over-compensated by ensuring that Odette was brutally encouraged to only spend time on ladylike behavior. Outside of lessons on manners and how to be a good wife – not a good queen – Odette was pushed to learn how to sing, dance and how to be support her future husband. As a child, Odette loved to climb around, practiced with swords, and had a slingshot, but those hobbies were quickly cast aside the moment she used her slingshot to fling a tomato at Derek. Despite him having done the exact same thing to her years prior. She didn’t recall him being scolded in the same way at all.

The only hobby Odette was allowed to choose for herself was reading. William wasn’t happy with it, what did a lady need with books after all, but allowed it to pacify her fiery spirit. Therefore, Odette often found herself reading story after story about imaginary worlds, magic and where good always triumphed evil. It gave her an escape from the tea parties, the lessons and the men in her life.

Despite both Odette and Derek fighting against their betrothal their whole lives, Derek suddenly changed his mind and declared to arrange the marriage. Odette had been so confused, asking everyone around her to wait and causing a scene. When asked why Derek changed his mind, he told her she was everything he ever wanted and called her beautiful. After a confused thank you, Odette asked what else? Surely the man whom she had practically grown up with could think of something else that made him want to marry her. Despite her father giving a grunt as a warning and shaking his head at her, she stood her ground and waited for Derek to answer. Even his mother, Queen Uberta, asked him to answer. Nothing could have prepared poor Odette for his answer. The bullying, the lessons, her bruises with her father’s fingerprints were nothing compared to the humiliation of Derek asking her:

“What else is there?”

Odette held her head high as she refused to marry him and left with her father a few hours later, after giving a curt goodbye to her almost-husband. On their way home, William told Odette he didn’t understand her and what had she wanted Derek to say. Before Odette could answer, her father suddenly grimaced and put a hand to his left arm. Before Odette could even begin to comprehend what was happening, her father fell into her arms and she screamed for the carriage to stop. With the help of one of their traveling companions, Odette got on a horse with her father placed safely on it and she had the horse sprint back to Prince Derek’s castle.

Lord Rogers had met her outside, seeing the urgency in the way her horse was riding towards them, and had immediately called the guards for help. King William was taken to a private chamber and was attended to by multiple doctors while he was struggling to breathe. Derek had joined Odette and insisted to be there for her during what would turn out to be William’s final moments. Before her father passed away, Odette had taken his hands in hers and told him he didn’t have to worry about his little girl and that she would marry Derek.

Derek had, completely inappropriately, excitedly hugged his best friend Bromley to which Lord Rogers immediately hit him at the back of his head to get him to behave. Odette hardly cared in the moment and simply cried in complete silence when her father passed. As he had taught her, she picked herself up, hid her tears and behaved amicably to the public eye. Only when she was truly alone did she allow her frustrations and fears to take hold of her heart, and she let out cries into the darkness of the night.

Odette and Derek’s wedding took place just a few weeks after her father’s funeral, and they had visited his grave to pay their respects before returning to his castle. To Odette’s surprise, Derek did initially not wish to consummate their marriage. He claimed it was due to her still being in mourning, and that he did not want to put any strain on her, but Odette always had a feeling that it was something else entirely. Either way, she was grateful for his decision and avoided going to bed before Derek every single night for as long as she could.

Fortunately, for a very long time, both Derek and Odette were busy with the new development in the world. When they were children, humans discovered that they were not alone in the universe, and that intelligent life was found outside their own hemisphere. Royalty and world leaders alike were asked to gather in an attempt at contacting life outside their own galaxy. While Odette was excited about the idea of intelligent life away from their own planet, Derek was not. The unknown and uncontrollable scared him and so, he continuously insisted that they both kept away from this development. To his dismay though, intelligent life was indeed found and after just a few years, the world leaders were gathered to meet creatures from other planets, previously unknown to people on Earth.

Odette could barely contain her excitement when she saw the first extraterrestrial step off the ship. Whenever a new creature appeared, they looked so different from each other. Since Derek feared them and wanted nothing to do with it, Odette was allowed to be the representative of their kingdom and speak to the foreigners herself. Most of them could not exactly speak any human languages, but some sort of communication was made through body language or by simply guessing. Some of the extraterrestrials communicated in very unique ways and Odette was eager to learn and understand them.

While Odette never spoke too long with just one species, there was one who stuck out of the crowd. A people humans dubbed “Virus” due to their ability to immediately make someone feel very ill, but also heal within minutes. They were the people that looked the most like humans despite having many differences as well. They had two eyes, a mouth, two arms and legs and wore garments just like humans did. They had something akin to hair on their head, but it didn’t look nor felt like human hair. They had hands with claws rather than fingers, and one of their hands always had one appendage that was three times as large as the rest, which harbored all their powers; the healing, ability to make you ill, glow in the dark and much more.

Viruses were also tall beings, the tallest one Odette had seen was twice her height. Their tongues were split into two and were longer than human tongues as well. Their eyes altered depending on their mood, so their eyes never stayed just one color. Odette had tried learning what each color meant, but there were many variations of colors she hadn’t even ever seen before on Earth.

But what really made them stand out was their ability to learn any language instantly simply through a kiss. The first time a Virus kissed a human, humans were shocked until the Virus started speaking English. They could, however, not teach each other their newly-developed language skills as they could only learn from a native speaker. And so, the willing humans kissed the Virus one by one and the Virus kissed the other extraterrestrials and worked as translators between everyone. A Virus had approached Odette as well, trying to kiss her, but Derek had pulled her away immediately.

To Odette, it almost felt like one of her most beloved books had come true. Intelligent life far beyond her reach was suddenly standing right before her. It felt almost magical. What she wouldn’t have sacrificed to see any of the other worlds out there in their infinite galaxy. Derek, on the other hand, remained suspicious of the extraterrestrial and insisted Odette stayed far away from them. When it was time to return home, Odette couldn’t hide her disappointment. The thought of going back to everyday life after everything she had learned was heartbreaking. Derek couldn’t understand Odette’s point of view, not that he tried.

Soon after, Derek expressed a desire to have an heir, which Odette thought would be lovely as she had felt a hole in her heart since her father died, and desperately needed someone to love. While Derek never forced himself on Odette, their attempts at creating an heir was far more unpleasant for her than she had ever expected. She praised her lucky stars that it never lasted too long and the discomfort she felt was usually remedied with a long, warm bath.

The physical discomfort at least.

Despite their many attempts, Odette never got pregnant. Perhaps unsurprisingly, she was blamed for this by the court. Rumors of her infertility spread, jokes were made at her expense and Derek was shown sympathy for marrying a barren wife. Odette knew Derek was not, at heart, a bad man. Not really. He just grew up being told he could do no wrong, and whatever he wanted he could take. His mother was by no means a bad woman either, she had simply doted on her one and only child while mourning the loss of her husband. King William and Queen Uberta didn’t handle the loss of their spouses well, but the way they dealt with it was very different.

As such, Derek slowly started to become resentful towards Odette. First she had humiliated him by refusing to marry him when he first agreed to the engagement and second, now she was apparently trying to punish him by not giving him an heir. The change in his behavior around her was so slow that Odette almost didn’t notice it at first. It started off with not engaging in conversations. Then he stopped reaching for her hand, touch her cheek or dance with her, unless other people were around. Then the snide remarks started, little things that started to annoy him. A dress she had worn too often, a piece of jewelry that distracted him, something she said that he thought sounded stupid. One of his favorite insults was towards her long neck. He would compare her to a swan, making his arm into a gesture that was supposed to symbolize a swan, walking around and “biting” people around them, which everyone laughed at.

Derek would whip his arm away from Odette if she tried to hold it, he’d sneer at her if she was in front of him rather than behind him and he would go out of his way to be with anyone else and leave her on her own. Bit by bit, Odette became friends with other people in the court and would spend her time with them at gatherings instead, since Derek clearly wasn’t interested in being around her anymore.

Derek took issue with Odette’s new friends as well. They were men. All three of them. Prince Jean-Bob, Captain of the Royal Guard Puffin and Mr. Lorenzo Trudgealong often nicknamed Speed. Speed, as far as Odette knew, had no specific royal duty, but instead helped everyone here and there. A sort of everything man, always doing something new every day, without a specific title.

Odette grew up with many people around her; servants, teachers, ladies-in-waiting and so forth. Friends though? Never. Bromley was Derek’s best friend, who also tormented her when they were children. He grew out of it though and was friendly with her, but in the long run he was Derek’s friend, not hers. Jean-Bob, Puffin and Speed were her friends, and her friends alone.

A wife being this friendly with three men without her husband present sparked rumors immediately, and Derek took them very personally. Suddenly, it was not only Odette who had been mocked, now he was the target instead. What kind of King couldn’t keep his Queen’s attention? Where had he failed to make her seek out the attention of other men? Despite Odette never speaking a single ill word about Derek, he blamed her for the humiliation and his treatment of her worsened and became public.

Derek would openly mock Odette for anything he could think of, even things Odette didn’t know could be criticized to begin with. If she had thought her father was strict, Derek was downright cruel. He would push her if she walked too slow, roll his eyes when she talked, openly share intimate details of her to get a cheap laugh and much more. Through all of it, Odette held her head high and didn’t allow anyone to see how much her husband’s treatment of her stung. When they were alone however, Odette would try to talk to him about his behavior. She was shut down each time and, eventually, she tried yelling at him. If he wouldn’t listen to reason, perhaps he would listen to anger. He, of course, didn’t.

Soon, the abuse turned physical. Derek never hit Odette, but he would deliberately be rough with her. The small pushes were nothing compared to the way he would hold her down in their bedchambers. Odette quickly realized that asking him to stop or showing any sort of resistance only angered him further. So she learned how to hold back her voice and forcing her body to stay still. She would try to excuse herself to the bathroom afterwards, but Derek would keep holding onto her until he’d fall asleep and it would be far too late for Odette to draw her evening bath.

When Odette and Derek’s fifth wedding anniversary approached, Odette spent all her free time preparing for it, hoping to rekindle what little love they had for each other before the marriage. Surely they could spend the evening together, having a meal and talking for just a bit. Derek never showed up. He forgot. Her husband forgot their wedding anniversary. Even though he was the one who wanted the marriage in the first place. She knew he was busy, that’s what he claimed at least though she had no idea with what. He stopped having audiences with their people, he was never in his office and, more often than not, she found him in the garden practicing archery with Bromley and Lord Rogers.

Odette didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to; Queen Uberta came to visit and wished her son and daughter-in-law happy anniversary. The look on Derek’s face when he realized was almost amusing. Queen Uberta’s reaction though, when she figured out Derek had forgotten, was definitely funny. She was furious. In front of everyone in the hall, she scolded Derek like a child who stole from the cookie jar. While Odette appreciated the gesture, she knew Derek would blame her for the public humiliation and tried to stop Uberta, but nothing could stop that woman once she was fired up.

Like Odette had foreseen, Derek did take it out on her later that evening. He yelled at her, asking her if she had enjoyed making him look bad in front of his mother. Odette had dared tell him he made himself look bad without her help, which had earned her a slap. It wasn’t a particularly hard slap, Derek had just swung around to face her and accidentally hit her. He didn’t apologize and neither did he seem to even realize what he had done and simply kept yelling.

At one point, Derek grabbed ahold of Odette’s dress and ripped it off her, making her stumble backwards onto the bed. The force of it made the night table shake and she quickly saved the statuette before it could fall on the floor. When Odette looked back at Derek, he was in the middle of taking off his own clothes. For the first time, Odette begged him not to touch her, not when he was so angry with her. Derek rolled his eyes at her and grabbed her by her legs, pulling her closer to him before he spoke his very last words.

“You really do only have beauty and nothing else.”

Odette didn’t mean to hurt him… What he said scared her and proved to her what she had been told almost all her life; she was just a little trinket. Something pretty to look at. Seen, not heard. All her insecurities, her trauma and the ever evolving abuse from her husband all came crashing down on her at once and she swung the statuette at Derek to get him away from her. She immediately expected to get yelled at, but Derek was completely quiet. It wasn’t until Odette dared opening her eyes she realized he was lying on the floor, completely still. She looked at the statuette in her hand, noticing the dark red blood dripping from the head down the body. She kept staring at it, until the blood reached her hand and she threw statuette away, screaming.

It didn’t take long for some guards to enter the chambers, after hearing their Queen scream. Nothing could be misunderstood by the scene in front of them; their King laid lifeless on the ground, blood appearing from a wound on his head and their Queen on the bed, blood on her hand and a bloody statuette accompanying her. One guard went to console Odette and the other left the room to gather more guards and sent for a doctor. Odette’s entire body was shaking, sobbing uncontrollably and was mumbling incomprehensibly. She couldn’t hear what anyone was saying and she kept her eyes shut tight, as if that would make it all go away.

Everything after that was a blur. Odette remembered standing trial, accused of deliberately murdering her husband and King and the discussion of her sentence. She remembered hearing discussions of beheading or hanging, but Queen Uberta had insisted on exile rather than execution. More specifically, galactical exile.

During the development between humans and extraterrestrial beings, a new concept of galactical exile was created. Instead of spending funds and creating space for the criminals of their own planets, many planets had started to send their criminals to an asteroid prison for the purpose of permanent exile. This would be the first human to be sent to The Galactical Exile, at the very edge of the galaxy, 1.000 jumps from the next inhabited planet. It being a Queen who had killed the King seemed oddly fitting. And so, Odette was put on a space ship and sent to The Galactical Exile.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Odette swallowed a lump in her throat, but it was difficult with the shackle around it. She was chained to her own two hands and the seat she was in. The shackles were merely for show, you couldn’t escape this pod even if you tried to. The space ship was cramped, practically claustrophobic, with only about 15 people in it, including the two guards and captain. Odette looked around, as subtly as she could, to see all the different creatures around her. She recognized most of the species from her time at The Introduction. She wondered why they were there. What could they have done that was so bad they were exiled from their planet?

Odette had a feeling that she would be the only one with an unintentional murder on her sleeve.

When the ship stopped moving, Odette looked out the little round window. All that could be seen was darkness and the edge of the asteroid they had landed on. A voice on a speaker interrupted the silence and the inmates all stood up and lined up in single file. Odette, despite not understanding the speaker, copied her inmates. One of the aliens pulled out what looked like a digital pad and asked the first inmate some questions before the inmate was then grabbed by another guard and pulled outside. This happened one by one until it was Odette’s turn.

He was a slender beige green alien, wearing a blue agent uniform with gold epaulets that carried brownish gold trimmings, three matching vertical buttons, matching wrist linings and a matching brooch with a small red jewel on it. He also wore a black belt with a round gold buckle and a brown pouch with a flap on the left. He had one big eye with what looked like an antenna at the top of his head.

The alien smiled brightly while reading her name. “Queen Odette Nicastro from Earth. Welcome, you’re our very first human. I’m very happy to meet—” the alien spoke happily until he looked up and saw Odette. She was about two heads taller than him, but she had a feeling that’s not why his smile faded. A look of concern crossed his face and he looked at his tablet again. He coughed, seemingly to collect himself and bowed to her. “Well… Your Highness, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Thank you… but I am hardly Queen anymore.” Odette replied, doing her best to smile back at the alien. “How come you can speak English, Mr.…?”

“Pleakley, at your service! I have always been fascinated by Earthlings! You have so many languages, but English is the most common one. Everyone here can speak English as well, some better than others though. Well, the Galactical Exile’s staff can anyway. You probably won’t be able to understand anyone else though, um…” the inspector started muttering and looked behind him. He spoke in an unfamiliar tongue to the guard behind him who then grabbed Odette, but did not pull her outside like the others. Instead, he kept holding her shackles and simply had her stand next to him while Pleakley spoke to the next inmate in line.

Odette was confused to say the least. Pleakley seemed very friendly, but why did he want to keep her around for a bit longer? Perhaps he simply wanted to sate some curiosities he had about Earth. That suited Odette just fine, she was a big fan of procrastination before entering prison for life. It wasn’t like she didn’t have time. Once the last inmate had left, Pleakley gave what sounded like an order to the guard holding Odette who then let go of her, exited the ship and had the door shut down.

OK, perhaps Odette was a bit worried what Pleakley wanted with her.

“Your highness, we don’t have much time so I’m going to have to be brutally honest with you.” Pleakley spoke in a tone that warned Odette she would not like what he had to say. “You are in terrible danger here. This is where the galaxy’s worst criminals end up and no one here cares for its inmates. If you wish to survive here, you have to find someone willing to protect you. Otherwise, you’re considered fair game. The guards will not protect you from anyone who wants to harm you.”

Odette allowed herself a moment to recover from what she had just been told. Like she had been taught though, she swallowed her fear and put it aside for later. “What would you recommend I do?”

Pleakley nodded, happy to see that Odette understood him. “Find one of the scarier inmates in there who can speak your language. I know there is a Virus in there, he may speak English already, but I know there are other inmates who have spent their time here learning languages. Convince one of them you’re worth having around by any means necessary, so they will protect you from other inmates.”

“And by worth having me around, you mean—”

“By whatever means necessary.” Pleakley repeated sternly before putting on his hat and bowing to her once again. “I wish you good luck, Your Highness. Your cell number is 667. I hope to see you again at my next inspection.”

And with those words, the guard grabbed Odette by her arm, pulled her outside the ship and closed the door behind them. Odette turned around, walking obediently with the guard through a long hallway of other inmates. She was put in line with them once again, when the guard removed her shackles. She massaged her wrists and her neck for a moment, while following the inmates into a new room that looked like a cafeteria.

Odette looked around at all the metal around her. Everything looked about as miserable as you would expect; dark, hard, rusted metal as far as the eyes could see. Unappealing food on the cafeteria tables with inmates scarfing it down like it was the most delicious thing they had ever tasted. And, finally, above the cafeteria on level 2, some inmates were eyeing the new meat from the mezzanine. Odette felt like she was in a parade so every inmate could size her up.

Remembering Pleakley’s advice, Odette looked around and got eye contact with multiple inmates, some scarier than others. Some seemed indifferent to her presence, but most were at the very least curious. She assumed it was due to her being the first human there, she may have even been the first human most of them had ever seen. Odette couldn’t help but try to find the Virus in the crowd, but far too many inmates caught her eyes.

One of the first Odette noticed was a cyborg Ursid, large in size yet more fat than muscular. He was wearing a cream colored shirt, red shorts, a black belt, a heavy black jacket and a tricornered hat. He had cybernetics on his right arm and leg, along with a cybernetic ear and eye with a yellow glow. He smirked at her and tipped his hat, but immediately went back to his card game. He seemed friendly enough, but Odette got the vibe he wouldn’t be interested in protecting anyone.

Then Odette noticed a Canid, but he looked like he was even weaker than she were. She noticed a Felinid not far away from him, but she showed absolutely no interest in Odette whatsoever. A Cragorian was next to her who did look at her briefly, but then immediately looked at the Felinid again.

Odette walked a bit further into the hall, noticing an alien leering at her with a very wide grin. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to run away, but she forced herself to make eye contact. He was definitely interested in her. His skin was a pale yellow with scales all over his body. Some scales were brown, like the ones on his hands, right under his chest and scattered around on his shoulders. Something akin to snake skin decorated his face, jaw and neck as well. He also had an enormous tail, long enough to make him twice as long. The way he looked at her made Odette’s skin crawl. Whatever he would want in payment for his protection… was not something Odette would survive for very long.

With a shiver, Odette looked in the other direction and immediately got eye contact with someone else. This one was watching her intensely. Their skin was a pale pink, almost human like, but the horns on their head and shoulders were dead giveaways. They had markings on their face and their eyes were twice as big as Odette’s, were triangular and fully red. They kept looking at her, but almost looked uninterested at the same time. Odette couldn’t figure out what they were thinking and wasn’t too keen on that level of constant uncertainty in this place.

One by one, Odette felt like she had run out of options and none were particularly tempting. Perhaps she didn’t have to choose immediately. She wasn’t the only new inmate, surely she could keep herself safe for at least a day or two so she had time to figure out what to do. For now, she had to give the food a chance. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate.

Odette wasn’t even sure what to call this supposed food on her trey, it looked like slob. She was debating where to sit when she felt something soft slither around her hips and pull her backwards. With a shriek, she landed on the lap of whoever had pulled her to them and she looked up at them. It was a Lolligo, a cephalopod mollusk creature with ten tentacles, similar to squids and octopi on Earth. They were holding her on their lap with at least five of their tentacles, one around each arm, her waist and two on her legs.

The Lolligo spoke to Odette, but she didn’t understand. What she did understand was the laughter she heard across the table, that sound was apparently universal. She looked towards the laughter and saw another pair of Lolligos looking at her. One of them let a tentacle take her hand and shook it curiously, almost mimicking a handshake. The other Lolligo started touching her hair, pulling at it curiously. Once the shock ebbed away, Odette pushed at the tentacles to get away. The Lolligos merely laughed at her. Apparently it was really funny to touch her as they pleased, without any care for her at all. When she felt a tentacle touch her leg, she started kicking and yelling, hoping making enough of a fuss for them to give up. It only seemed to make it more interesting though if the way yet another tentacle was caressing her cheek was any indication.

Odette was about to grab her tray and slam it into the Lolligo whose lap she was sitting on, when she suddenly felt something far more solid lift her off the soft alien. She dropped the trey and reached out for whoever had saved her. Well, she hoped they were saving her at least, and not just replacing her aggressor. She heard the person speak in the same language the Lolligos understood and they seemed to growl at them in response.

Odette looked down at the arm around her, noticing it being clad in a black coat. On the floor, she saw big black boots and a shadow mixed with hers, but this person’s shadow was far taller than hers. She looked to the side of her that was pressed against this person’s chest and saw one of their hands which was a deep red color and had long claws. Odette got a feeling and looked up to confirm it; yes, this was the Virus Pleakley had talked about. His skin was deep red, his hair looked like purple dreadlocks and his eyes were, currently, light blue. Odette couldn’t remember what light blue eyes meant, but he was smirking confidently. His teeth were sharp and had a green tint to them. His cheekbones were sharp, chin even sharper and he was at least three heads taller than her.

The Virus looked down at Odette, flashing her a toothy grin. Without a word, he closed his eyes and kissed her. She gasped in shock and almost slapped him before he leaned back and spoke to her in English: “Hi, Princess. Remember me?”

Yes, Odette did very much remember him. He was the Virus who had tried to kiss her doing The Introduction before Derek had pulled her away. The scolding she got from Derek afterwards – despite her having no intention of kissing the Virus - was one of the worst ones. She couldn’t blame the Virus, she knew that, but back then she couldn’t help but to.

One of the Lolligos started talking again and Odette looked at them, wondering what they were saying. The Virus, in an almost playful voice, responded in their language. Despite his casual tone, the body language on the Lolligos changed immediately and they seemed tense. One of them waved a dismissive tentacle at them and went back to talking with each other instead.

Without a word, the Virus lifted his hand towards Odette’s tray, lifted it off the floor and threw it towards the trash can with a simple wave of his hand. “Let’s find you something more humane to eat.” He suggested, kept his arm over her shoulder and pulled her with him. Odette looked around them, noticing how everyone was watching them intensely. Was this Virus someone with power in The Galactical Exile? She looked up at the mezzanine, noticing the large yellow creature whose smile had completely disappeared. Yes, this Virus must have had some control in this place.

The Virus brought her around a corner, entering another section of the cafeteria. About 10 other species were already seated there, eating completely different food that actually looked edible. Delicious even! The Virus brought her up to the table where a Sagitta was standing, ready to give them food.

“Let’s see. What would be worthy of a Royal Earthling…?” The Virus said pensively and looked at the menu. After a few seconds, he spoke to the Sagitta who nodded, turned around for a few seconds and then presented a tray with a stew that smelled heavenly. The Virus threw a small satchel at the Sagitta and lifted the tray with a wave of his hand. What was in that satchel? Money? Was that what made him powerful?

The Virus lifted Odette for a moment before placing her in a soft chair. He put the tray in front of her and sat next to her, turned completely towards her with one leg under the table and the other leg away from it. “Eat, Your Highness. I bet it’s been a while.”

Odette grabbed the spoon, filled it with the stew and apprehensively put it inside her mouth. To her relief, it tasted heavenly. She took a couple more bites before she decided she didn’t care about manners and simply lifted the bowl and drank it all in one go. She was going to have a stomach ache later, but she didn’t care. This was the happiest she had felt since… she wanted to say since Derek died, but the truth was she had been unhappy for much longer than that.

Odette looked to her right at the Virus who was smirking in amusement. She noticed his eye color had changed; this time they were magenta. “You must be so scared.”

Who wouldn’t be? Odette thought, but forced a stern expression onto her face. “Only until I get used to this place.”

“You don’t get used to The Galactical Exile. Especially not a princess.”

“I’m a queen—”

“Was a queen.”

Odette couldn’t help but grunt a bit at that. He wasn’t wrong, her status on Earth meant nothing here, especially when her title was stripped away from her to begin with. “Why did you help me?”

“Oh, I think you know why. Now, you’re indebted to me.” The Virus replied, his grin spreading. “The name is Thrax.”

“I’m Odette, and I was not aware that your kindness came with a price.”

“Everything comes with a price around here.” Thrax chuckled. “Or are you really this naïve?”

Odette grimaced. “Thank you for the lesson. I will no longer fall for any tricks.”

“If you think getting tricked into a meal is bad, you’re in for a really bad time here.” Thrax laughed. “No… you should really stick with me.”

There it is.

“And what will you expect in return for protecting me?” Odette asked, putting on her best business queen mask. She wasn’t sure she could trust Thrax, well, perhaps she couldn’t trust anyone in a place like this. But it was too soon to know whether Thrax was her best option.

“Simple… do as I say, and I will be your slave.”

“… That makes no sense.”

“It will. Just…” Thrax started and moved so close to Odette that she could feel his breath in her ear when he whispered. “… let me claim you.”

Odette felt a shiver travel from her neck down her spine. “That was more of a statement than a question.”

“That’s because I’m not asking a question. I don’t want to give you the option to say no.”

Clever.

“Thank you for your offer, I will think about it.” She responded defiantly, looking straight into his eyes, which had turned purple at some point.

“I recommend thinking fast, Your Highness. You’re a very easy target. A pretty little bird like you couldn’t possibly protect yourself.”

At that, Odette stood up from the table, clenching her elegant hands into fists. “Luckily for you, I’m done thinking. I have no intention of becoming someone’s trinket again.”

“Again?”

Had Odette not been a princess, she might have cursed her own name for her stupidity. “Thank you for your offer, but I want nothing to do with you.”

“Oh? But I want to have everything to do with you.”

At that, Odette felt goosebumps grow on her skin. She looked at Thrax, an unmistakable look in his eyes as a hint of pink traveled across them before they turned magenta again. Odette had to force herself to look away so she could finally walk away from this loathsome creature. For a moment, she thought she had found someone decent in this place. Well, that was definitely a mistake she wouldn’t repeat.

“Hey, Princess!”

Odette sneered as she turned around. “I’m not a—” She was interrupted by something being shoved in her mouth and she instinctively hid her lips behind her hands. She glared at the Virus who was just smirking at her while she chewed whatever was in her mouth. It tasted sweet and familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Couldn’t let you leave without your dessert.” Thrax explained and walked past her. “I’m in cell 666 if you change your mind.”

Odette turned to look at him, still trying to figure out what she was currently eating. Her curiosity got the better of her and she spit out a tiny bit into her hand. Custard bun? She thought in confusion, recognizing the texture and color. How in the world did this place have custard buns? Even though Odette would usually never be caught dead putting spit-out food back into her mouth, her love for this particular pastry won her over and she swallowed the bite.

Odette spent the rest of the day getting to know the place. She found out there even was a library in this place, but the books and tablets were mostly non-human, and she couldn’t understand them. She found one book in a human language, but it was in Chinese. Odette eventually also found the shared showers and a sort of schedule where you could sign up for when you wanted to take a shower. Apparently there was some sort of technology that would scan you as you tried to enter and if you weren’t scheduled for a shower, the door in front of you would close. That made Odette feel safe enough to schedule a shower for herself. She had only ever had baths, but surely it couldn’t be that much different. To her surprise, there was an available time slot in just a few minutes, so she stayed put until then.

Turns out showering was a bit more different than Odette was prepared for. There were far too many nuzzles for her to figure out what to do with and the water didn’t feel like water on earth. Odette realized that despite her independent nature, she truly had relied on servants her entire life and she didn’t know how to do even the simplest of things. The shower was unsuccessful and Odette didn’t feel any cleaner than when she entered the shower. It had helped a bit, but mostly it was more stressful than relaxing. Just another thing to add to the list of things she had to get used to.

A loud bell ran across the entire prison and an announcement was made in a language Odette didn’t understand. She looked around, trying to find someone who might translate for her, but the people she saw either scared her or clearly had no interest in her at all. What she did notice though was that most prisoners were now walking away from the area. Odette watched as a few inmates entered a cell individually and she realized the bell must have announced roll call. The cells all had signs above them with a number – fortunately these signs were translated into all languages, including Earth numbers. Odette ran through the hall, counting down as she reached her cell on the sixth floor.

To Odette’s shock, she noticed Thrax standing near her cell, almost like he was waiting for her. He saw her immediately, a wide grin spreading on his face. “Made it just in time. Get in your cell before the guard comes or you’re in trouble.” Was all he said to her before walking inside his own cell.

We’re neighbors… great.

Odette went inside her cell immediately, closing the door behind her. To her horror, their cells were divided by just a few bars. He could see her completely, there was no area to hide or be alone. Their beds were even placed up against each other’s. Thrax sat down on his bed, gesturing for Odette to sit down on hers. In defiance, she grabbed ahold of the bed and pulled it away from him, planning to put it against the bars on the opposite side. To her surprise, all Thrax reacted with was a smile, almost as if he knew she was going to do that.

Once Odette’s bed hit the bars though, she looked up and saw who her other neighbor cellmate was; one of the Lolligos from earlier. Almost immediately, one of its tentacles reached out for her and she pulled her bed back in panic. The Lolligo made a sound that sounded an awful lot like a laugh and went back to whatever it was doing before it saw her. Odette looked over her shoulder at Thrax, who was smiling knowingly at her. Begrudgingly, she pushed the bed back towards him and sat down.

“You made the right choice.” Thrax praised despite Odette not even looking at him. “Lolligos aren’t known for keeping their limbs to themselves.”

Odette lied down on her bed, her back turned to Thrax. He laughed at her like she was a bratty child, but left her alone otherwise. Once the guard had come by to confirm everyone was in their cells, the lights were shut off. It was completely dark and Odette immediately felt terrified. She always had a candle near her, she had never been fond of the dark. She struggled to calm herself down, but the darkness made room for her memories to haunt her as well. The memories she had tried to keep at bay, memories of Derek and their last moments together. The sound of Uberta wailing when she saw her son, killed by her daughter-in-law, the one she had chosen for him. The guilt, shame and fear all came crashing down on her at once.

Odette felt the sobs approaching just when a flicker of light caught her eyes. She looked to her right, towards Thrax, and realized the light came from him. It was that elongated claw that harbored all the Virus’ powers, such as a source of light as well. Odette couldn’t resist; she turned on her side so she was facing the glow and willed her sobs to go away. To her surprise, the orange glow felt warm, almost as if it were fire. Odette wasn’t sure what had made Thrax’s claw glow, but she was thankful for its soothing effect. Not long after, exhaustion overtook her and she fell asleep.

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Waking up in The Galactical Exile was not an easy thing to do. However, the sound of the bell made sure that it was a rude awakening either way and Odette flinched from the sound. She opened her eyes, looking down at herself. The uniform she saw confirmed that the last few days weren’t just some wicked nightmare and she sighed. She looked ahead of herself, seeing Thrax’s face in front of her. In shock, she pushed herself off the bed and landed on the stone floor. She groaned from the pain and sat up.

“Am I that scary?” Thrax teased and stood up from his bed

Yes, Odette thought, but kept it to herself. As soon as she stood up, her cell was unlocked and Thrax was standing right in front of her. “What are you—”

“Hold still.” Thrax ordered and put his elongated claw on Odette’s back. Despite every instinct inside of her screaming to get away from him, she held still as she felt a soothing warmth spread across her back. When the warmth was gone so was the aching from her fall. Experimentally, Odette stretched her arms and any discomfort she had felt from the bed was also completely gone. Truly, any physical ailments were gone from her body and just with a stroke from Thrax’s claw. She almost wanted to joke that he would become the most prosperous healer on Earth, but then remembered some kingdoms on Earth still burnt witches. Though something told her mere fire wouldn’t harm a creature like Thrax. “So, would you prefer a proper breakfast or whatever slob the kitchen has found inside the vents this morning?”

Odette felt her stomach turn from the memory, but shook her head stubbornly. “Thank you for… whatever to call what you just did. But I have no intention of becoming someone’s property.”

“You wouldn’t be my property any more than I would be yours.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” Odette dismissed and walked out of her cell.

She hard Thrax closing her cell door behind her before following her to the cafeteria. To her surprise, he stuck by her and took a tray right after she did. Why would he stay in the cafeteria with her when he clearly had better options literally around the corner? No matter his intentions, Thrax followed Odette and sat besides her with his own tray. Odette would have been annoyed by his presence, but the food on her tray took all of her attention. It was a big, round and blue ball with what looked like a bamboo stick next to it. She had no idea what it was, but it had a very distinct smell. What that smell was however she had no idea.

Odette looked up at Thrax, silently admitting she had no idea what to do. “Let me help you.” He chuckled, took the bamboo stick and hit the blue ball. It immediately opened, revealing a yellow substance inside of it. The uncomfortable smell turned vile and Odette had to hold her nose to avoid openly gagging. “Are you going to throw up, Your Highness?”

“Unfortunately not.” Odette answered nasally, her hand desperately closing her nose off to the smell. “What is this?”

“I believe Earthlings call them pill bugs, they are not as big on Earth though.”

Odette wanted to scream. She wanted to throw the tray away, run back to her cell and never come out again. That pill bug was the size of her head, its insides were laid open for her to see and, apparently, eat. The smell was more foul than anything she had ever smelled before. She looked towards Thrax who had just opened his own pill bug. He wiggled the bamboo stick at her, put it into the pill bug and sucked. He grimaced once the meat met his taste buds and coughed.

“Ew.” Thrax said simply, sticking out his split tongue. Odette couldn’t help but laugh at his expression. He looked like a child being forced to eat his vegetables. “Your turn.”

Odette’s laugh subsided immediately as she looked at her own untouched pill bug. She grabbed her bamboo straw, braced herself and sucked some of the meat into her mouth. What in the world, she thought when the warm goo hit her tongue. She looked up at Thrax who was looking at her expectantly.

“Why does it smell worse than it tastes?”

The laugh that came out of Thrax echoed in the cafeteria. He was in utter shock, but loved Odette’s reaction. She too was in shock. Why did it not taste bad? Why was it almost, kind of… okay? No good, but edible. She kept looking at Thrax who was struggling to stop laughing, tears even formed in the corner of his magenta-colored eyes. She would never have guessed he could laugh like that; so rambunctiously and without a care that everyone was looking at him. It was infectious. Despite not wanting to, Odette couldn’t help but laugh a bit as well. Their eyes met and for just a moment, she didn’t feel as lost as she had in a long time.

A voice interrupted their laughter and both Odette and Thrax looked towards the person approaching them. Odette couldn’t help but flinch and lean back into Thrax. The alien in front of her was an Arachnid, his face was insect-like with large, bulbous yellow eyes bearing star-like pupils. He had two large fangs in his upper jaw along with slim red fangs in his lower jaw. He had long gray hair hidden under a brown hat and a spider-like lower body complete with six slender legs. They grew from an abdomen with a black shell and a red underbelly. There were fang-like red spikes on the tips of his legs as well, he was hunched over and showing off his red crustacean claws. These claws looked like lobsters on Earth, not like the claws Thrax had.

“Oh, fuck off, Scroop.” Thrax dismissed and turned Odette away so she wasn’t looking at the Arachnid anymore. “Ignore him”. He whispered in her ear, but that was hard to do when she suddenly felt a claw grab a lock of her hair. The Arachnid, apparently named Scroop, was studying Odette’s hair. In fear of him cutting her hair with those sharp claws, she pulled her hair out of his grasp. A few hair strands were cut off in the process, proving just how sharp those claws really were.

“Don’t underestimate me, lass.” Scroop warned, still holding his razor-sharp claw threateningly close to her. “I could snap you like a—"

“Something tells me you’re hard to underestimate.” Odette interrupted before she could stop herself.

Thrax had apparently been in the middle of drinking because Odette heard the unmistakable sound of him spitting out the liquid, followed by a laugh which was only interrupted by a cough here and there. Thrax said something in a language Odette didn’t understand and suddenly, other people in the cafeteria were laughing as well. Scroop looked around in embarrassment and then reached for Odette, yanking her off the bench. She realized that insulting the creature who clearly wanted a reason to hate her wasn’t the smartest choice she had ever made. Perhaps it was only second to marrying Derek.

“Why, you impudent, little Earthling!” Scroop yelled and put his other claw threateningly close to Odette’s chin. “This is why I hate humans. You’re all—”

Scroop’s yelling was interrupted by a scream of pain from himself when Odette kicked him. She had expected her foot to be met with something hard due to his shell, but she must have found a soft spot because he immediately dropped her to the floor to soothe the pain. She got up on her feet and ran behind Thrax who had stood up from the bench. Scroop was about to reach for her until he saw Thrax.

“Get out of my way, Virus, or I will rip your head off your body!”

“Hm, sounds like a gas, baby. Bring it on.” Thrax responded whipping out his hand, the claw already glowing a threatening red color.

Before either of them could do anything though, Odette had thrown the tray of pill bug guts at Scroop, successfully blinding the Arachnid. She grabbed Thrax’s hand and he ran with her in a mix of shock and amusement. They heard Scroop yelling and others starting to give chase after them. Thrax laughed, caught up with Odette and turned the corner of a hallway. Before she could continue running, Thrax pulled her into a narrow passageway meant for the guards to make shortcuts. He pushed her up against the wall, trapping her with one of her legs forced around his waist to make room for them both. Odette wanted to protest against the inappropriate position, but Thrax hushed her as the group of inmates got closer.

Out of pure defiance, Odette pushed Thrax’s hand away from her even though it did little to change their proximity. He looked down at her and that’s when she realized just how tall he really was. Derek was taller than her as well, as most human men were, but Thrax was about two heads taller than Derek. She really had to lean her head backwards to look at him properly, he was truly towering over her despite making himself as small as possible to fit inside the narrow passageway. When his eyes met hers, fixating on her every move, she noticed a flicker of pink around his irises. Small sparks, almost like the crackles of fire in a newly-lit chimney.

Instinctively, though Thrax hadn’t moved at all, Odette knew what he was about to do. “Don’t you dare.” She whispered, hoping it sounded more confident than she felt. He searched her eyes, looking for any sign that she really wanted him to stop, and smirked when he found none. “No—” she hissed, but was very quickly silenced by his lips against hers. Her eyebrows knitted together in frustration, and she grabbed at his shirt as if wanting to push him away, but pulled him closer instead.

Odette couldn’t remember the last time she had been kissed, but she had never been kissed quite like this. The kisses she and Derek had shared were soft, gentle and romantic, mostly chaste pecks. Only their first kiss was particularly memorable. There was a certain hunger to the way Thrax was kissing her that she hadn’t known even existed. Was it possible to crave a person? This felt like she was being craved, there was a hint of desperation in the way his lips were moving against hers and she didn’t quite know how to feel about it. It wasn’t until the kiss ended, she realized she had been holding her breath and gasped for breath. Her eyes were closed, but she knew he was smirking.

“I think we’re in the clear.”

Odette’s eyes opened in shock, having completely forgotten why they were hiding in the first place. With a sneer, she tried to push Thrax away, but he was already against the wall and just laughed at her. She wiggled out of the passageway, tripping over her own feet in doing so, but was saved from falling by Thrax grabbing her by the waist.

“You usually this clumsy?”

“No!” Odette snapped and straightened herself up, hoping to save at least a little bit of her dignity. She pulled away from him, feeling a blush spread across her face as he far too casually smiled at her. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Which part?” Thrax asked in mock confusion. While Thrax was talking, he was walking closer and closer to Odette, causing her to walk backwards until she hit the wall behind her. “When I saved your pretty ass yet again? When I hid you from them? Or when I… kept you quiet?”

Odette’s cheeks flared up again and she lifted her hand to slap him. To her surprise, her hand actually hit his cheek, and he did not try to stop her or even flinch. All Thrax did was wheeze followed by a moan, and that flicker of pink showed up in his eyes again.

“Stay away from me.” Odette snarled and walked away from Thrax whom she could hear chuckling behind her.

“You know where to find me when you change your mind.”

Right… his cell was right next to hers. Damn.

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Odette spent the rest of the day in the library, hiding from Thrax and everyone else. She found a book with a bare bones introduction to all the known languages in the galaxy and studied it closely until she heard the roll call bell. She had run to her cell, noticing Thrax already being in his cell just like last night and she spent the night in the darkness with the exception of his glowing claw behind her. She slept better than she had the night before, but not by much.

The next morning, Odette got out of the cell, before Thrax had even sat up, and went to the cafeteria. She was determined to stay away from him from now on, and handle herself to the best of her ability. She might have lived liked royalty, but she wasn’t completely naïve. She got her food, this time it was some gray stuff, and sat down at an unoccupied table and started eating. It tasted like absolutely nothing and that was just fine. After the chaotic few days she had, she welcomed something plain and boring.

Odette managed to keep to herself, always watching over her shoulder to ensure she was indeed alone, until a cyborg Ursid approached her before lunch time. It was the one who had tipped his hat to her on the day of her arrival. He held out a piece of paper to her which she took while eyeing him suspiciously. It was a note asking for her to go to corridor A3 at the bottom level for a health check signed by one of the guards. It was written in perfect English with a very neat handwriting and so, Odette believed the note. She thanked the cyborg Ursid, though she wasn’t sure if he understood or not and she started her walk to the health check.

On her way there, it did occur to Odette that this was a little odd. Pleakley had told her this place didn’t care for its inmates, so a health check sounded uncharacteristic. But that note was so perfectly written, the cyborg Ursid had no reason to have issues with her and she hadn’t seen Scroop or the Lolligos all day, so she was hesitantly optimistic that this was just paranoia. As long as she kept her wits about her, she was sure she’d be fine.

However, as Odette almost turned the corner and entered A3, she felt her arm get yanked to the side. She gasped, but her mouth was covered immediately by an extremely warm hand and she tried scratching the person, but noticed the abnormally red skin on them. She looked up and, sure enough, it was Thrax who had pulled her to the side. She tried forcing his hand away from her, but he might as well have been made of stone. He used his free hand to hush her and her eyebrow twitched in confusion. He slowly let go of her mouth and pointed around the corner. Slowly, she leaned to the side just a bit so she could see.

Just around the corner, barely within earshot, was Scroop, the Lolligos and some extraterrestrials standing, clearly waiting for something. For Odette. It was a trap, and she had almost fallen for it. Her jaw dropped in shock. It was currently lunch time, so she would have been completely alone with them for the next hour and no one would have known. Odette couldn’t know for sure exactly what they would have done, but it could not have been good. Death might even have been the kindest outcome. If they could forge a note from a guard, who knew what else they could do to trick her.

Odette looked up at Thrax, still in shock thinking about what could almost have happened to her. He took her hand and gently led her further away from the corner so they were out of earshot. “Are you convinced?” he whispered when they were far enough away. He put his hands on her shoulders, leaning down until he was at her eye level, gazing at her with intense purple eyes. “You’ve only been here for a few days and you’ve already made enemies. They’re not gonna just leave you alone unless they have a really good reason to… let me be that reason.”

As disheartening as it was, Odette had to admit that Thrax was right. She would have liked not to feel like the damsel in distress she had been taught to be, but the truth was that she couldn’t protect herself. Not here. So, begrudgingly, she nodded and accepted Thrax’s proposition. He gave her a smile that almost didn’t look like a self-satisfied grin, and kissed her hand in a far too gentlemanly manner, considering what he had just made her agree to.

“Get back to my side of the cafeteria. I’ll catch up with you after I’ve told these guys to leave you alone.” Thrax instructed and gently patted her back to nudge her towards the cafeteria. Odette nodded and walked away as quietly and quickly as she could. “Good girl.”

Odette felt a weird mix of emotions at the praise, but decided not to dwell on it and get away from this cursed corridor. Thrax stayed until she was out of sight and then turned around to approach the inmates around the corner. They immediately noticed him when he approached.

“Nice work, boys.” Thrax complimented and laughed as he pulled out a satchel from his pocket. “Best damn money I’ve ever spent in this place.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don’t get what you’d want with that scrawny bitch to begin with.” Scroop sneered as he grabbed the satchel from Thrax. “Earthlings are filthy, nosy little—”

“Hey, hey, that’s my property you’re talking about.” Thrax interrupted in clear offense, but still laughing as well. He had just struck gold after all.

Thrax never thought he’d ever find that perfect little princess he saw months ago during the Introduction. There had yet to be a moment he hadn’t longed for her ever since he saw those big, amethyst eyes twinkling in curiosity at everything that was going on around her. There had been hundreds of people around them, but to Thrax she had become his sole purpose from that moment. It was impossible to take his eyes off her. The moment he saw her smile, his chest had begun to ache more fiercely than he thought was possible. He had fixated on her every move, every word she spoke and every smile she had shown. The only thing that had sullied the experience was that pathetic excuse of a man she was married to. This spoiled little brat who had dared interfere when Odette had shown a willingness to kiss Thrax to let him learn their language. Thrax knew this rat didn’t deserve someone like Odette and he knew it. Derek knew it and that was why he didn’t want his wife to even be present at the Introduction because he knew she’d someday realize she deserved better. Odette deserved someone utterly devoted to her in every single way, and Derek was not.

Thrax knew he could be what Odette wanted, what she ultimately needed. She just had to be willing to teach him. He didn’t know how to love, he had never wanted to experience such a thing. But this desire he had for her, the urge to protect her, the obsession he had to be in her presence every moment of every day, surely this was some kind of love? He couldn’t recall any time he had ever cared about someone, but Odette had consumed his every thought since he met her. He was committed to finding her, but as fate would have it, she had been brought to him with no effort on his part. All he had to do was convince her she needed him, which he was sure she would have figured out herself eventually, but he just didn’t have the patience to wait for her anymore. And, of course, he had to change his cell number so he was next to her even while she slept.

The Galactical Exile was a dangerous place, and Thrax was devoted to keeping Odette safe from everything and everyone there.

Except for himself.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FAQ

What do Thrax’ eye colors mean?

Black = Afraid

Gray = Neutral/Bored

Green = Happy

Yellow = Embarrassed

Light orange = Tense

Dark orange = Uncomfortable

Red = Angry

Light pink = Flirty

Magenta = Playful

Purple = Focused

Light purple = Dazed/Tired

Dark blue = Sad

Light blue = Confident

Turquoise = Inspired

Who are the inmates Odette sees when she arrives at The Galactical Exile?

Inspector Pleakley is from the Lilo and Stitch.

The cyborg Ursid is Silver from Treasure Planet.

The Canid is Delbert Doppler from Treasure Planet.

The Felinid is Amelia Smollett from Treasure Planet.

The Cragorian is Samuel Arrow from Treasure Planet.

The Arachnid is Scroop from Treasure Planet.

The Lolligos, the Sagitta cafeteria workers, the big yellow alien with the tail and the light pink aliens are no specific characters from any specific franchises.

#thraxette #thrax #odette #fanfic #fanfiction #a pawn upon a board #prison au #thraxette prison au #treasure planet

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 11 months

Text

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear Chapter 16: Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: While speaking at a local school for visually impaired youth, Matt runs into his childhood best friend, with whom he lost touch almost 20 years prior.

Warnings/Tags: Bit of innuendo but nothing really for this chapter.

Word Count: ~1500

A/N: The previous chapter was super short and just filler because I needed something from Matt's PoV, so enjoy this bonus update!

No, no, no… ew, too much white… this one isn't even in Hell's Kitchen… nope, nope… oh wait, what's this?

Y/N paused scrolling through real estate listings as she ran across an absolutely gorgeous 4-story townhouse with a private garden. Oh wow, this is beautiful.

She and Matt had come up with an agreed-upon budget and wishlist for their future shared home the night before and were now looking at listings -- or rather, Y/N was looking at listings and reading them off to Matt while he made stir-fry for lunch.

She scrolled through the photos then took a look at the floor plan. Basement area that Matt could slip in and out of while he's out Daredeviling, private garden, massive kitchen, 4 bedrooms and an office… oh my God, it has a library.

She scrolled down to the listing price and her heart sank. $6.7 million dollars. Fuck.

She sighed.

"No luck with that one?" Matt asked.

Y/N shook her head. "Actually it's the perfect place for us, but there's no way in hell we'd ever be able to afford it. Plus it's a townhouse, not an apartment."

"How much is it?" Matt asked.

"Almost 7 million bucks."

Matt whistled. "Yikes."

"Yeah." Y/N sighed again. "It is beautiful though."

Matt shrugged. "Is there an open house anytime soon? Maybe we can tour it to see if maybe we do want to look at townhouses instead of an apartment?"

Y/N glanced back at the listing. "Um, yeah, actually there's an open house tomorrow afternoon."

"Want to check it out then?"

"Sure, why not." Y/N laughed. "Who knows, maybe I'll actually hate it once I see it."

_______________________________

"Okay, definitely don't hate it," Y/N whispered to Matt as they walked into the open house the next afternoon. "This place is even more gorgeous than it was in the pictures."

"Hi, welcome," the listing agent greeted them. "Come on in. I'm Madison with Harcourt Realty."

"Matthew," Matt said, shaking Madison's hand.

"Y/N," Y/N added. "Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine." Madison swept a hand around the foyer. "Would you like a tour?"

Y/N nodded and took Matt's hand. "Sure."

"Okay, well this lovely townhome was built in 1899 and measures out at 4,567 square feet if you include the basement -- one of the biggest townhomes in the area -- and it features 5 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms, with an additional garden room and library. Over here we have a downstairs bathroom and closet, and through here is an eat-in kitchen, a walk-in pantry complete with a wine cooler, and a formal dining room."

Y/N looked around the kitchen area as Madison paused. She could definitely picture herself and Matt making breakfast together after a long night of lovemaking.

Madison continued to the dining room. "And if we keep going, we'll reach the garden room, which has 2 large skylights to let in the natural warmth of the sunshine and opens directly to the back garden."

Y/N and Matt followed him outside.

"Do you folks do a lot of entertaining?" Madison asked.

"Not a ton," Matt replied, "but we do have relatives that come in from out of town. We're actually thinking about expanding our family so we're looking for somewhere with room for our kids to play."

"Ah," Madison said. "Well, you'll have plenty of space for little ones and your out-of-town guests."

He gestured back inside. "Okay, if you'll follow me, we can check out the basement area."

The basement was large and roomy with plenty of storage space and entrances in both the front and back.

"Matt, sweetheart, I think this would be the perfect 'man cave' for you," Y/N said lightly, hinting at the fact that Matt could come and go as Daredevil through the basement.

Matt nodded. "Yeah, I could use this as a workout room."

Madison nodded. "The previous owners also used the space as their home gym. Now, if you're ready we'll head up to the living area."

Y/N and Matt followed Madison back upstairs.

"Here's the formal living room/den," Madison said as they reached the second floor, "and through here is the library."

Y/N sucked in a breath as they stepped into the library. Definitely gotta add lots of bookshelves to the must-have list for whatever place we choose.

Matt gave her hand a squeeze. "I know which room will be your favorite," he said with a grin.

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Well of course."

Madison then led them upstairs once again to the spare bedrooms. "Here are 2 of the bedrooms with a shared bathroom in the middle. The right-side bedroom also comes with a fireplace and walk-in closet while the other bedroom comes with a slightly smaller closet."

Matt hummed. "We'd probably want to take the fireplace out of this room. Wouldn't want the kids playing with it."

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, I agree."

"Okay, one more floor." Madison led them to the stairs once more. "Here we have a walk-in closet right outside the primary bedroom and to the right over here is a bedroom with its own attached bath, and finally another bedroom that can be used as another walk-in closet or a small office."

Y/N grinned and turned to Matt. "This can be your office, I'm taking the library as mine."

Matt chuckled. "I wouldn't expect anything less, angel."

"Do you mind me asking what you do for work?" Madison asked.

"I'm an attorney," Matt replied, "and Y/N is a librarian."

Madison nodded with a chuckle. "Ah, well, that makes sense then. Now over here is the primary suite…"

Y/N marveled over the size of the primary bedroom and eyed the large walk-in shower in the primary bathroom with envy. Definitely could have some fun with Matt in here, she thought.

She turned towards Matt, who was smirking as if he could read her thoughts. "What?"

Matt just shook his head. "Just that we were probably thinking the same thing."

Madison gestured back towards the hallway. "Okay, shall we head back downstairs?"

Y/N nodded. She knew that she and Matt were just touring the townhouse basically for shits and giggles, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to not immediately go rob a bank so that they could afford it. "This is lovely."

Matt nodded. "We'll have to discuss some things and get back with you."

Madison nodded as well. "Well here's my card in case you have any questions, but if you decide to place an offer I wouldn't wait because I feel like this place is going to go fast."

"Yes, thank you so much for the tour," Y/N said. "We'll be in touch."

"Have a nice day," Matt added.

Y/N took Matt's hand as they left.

As they walked back down the steps to the street, Y/N sighed. "Feel like going rob a bank with me so we can buy this place?"

Matt chuckled. "You liked it that much, huh?"

"Matty, it's perfect. It has everything we want in our forever home." Y/N shook her head. "I really don't think we'll find anything even remotely like it in our price range, so if we want to stay in Hell's Kitchen we might have to start looking at renting a 3-bedroom apartment, maybe a 4-bedroom if we're lucky and find a place with bedrooms the size of closets."

Matt pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I'm sorry, angel."

Y/N shook her head. "It's not your fault."

"We'll keep looking, okay?"

Y/N nodded. "Okay."

Suddenly Matt's watch beeped. "Oh, shit, I forgot I was supposed to go meet Foggy at the office to go over our strategy for the Donnetto arbitration tomorrow."

"Oh, okay. Raincheck on dinner then?"

Matt nodded. "Here, let me get you home first, I'll call Foggy and tell him I'm running late."

Y/N shook her head. "Oh no, sweetheart, you go ahead. I'll just catch a cab back to my place."

"Okay, I'll call you when I'm done and maybe we can have dinner at your apartment? I shouldn't be more than an hour or two."

"Okay." Y/N gave him a kiss. "Love you."

"Love you too. Here, let me get you a cab."

Y/N waited as Matt hailed a cab and opened the door for her. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"No problem, angel. I'll see you later tonight, okay?"

Y/N nodded. "Okay."

"Where we goin', ma'am?" the cab driver asked.

Y/N gave him her address and sat back with a sigh. She hoped she and Matt would find their forever home soon, but it unfortunately wouldn't be this one.

#lotmf writes #AoG Masterlist #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x yn #matt murdock fanfiction

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hawkewatching · 11 months

Text

Dark Sun (Arthur Harrow x Reader)

Chapter 2: Do You Know Me? (7,014 words)

Previous Links: Chapter 1 (Please check chapter 1 for any warnings and tags if you're interested, they are the same here)

Rated Mature for dark themes and some strong language.

Summary:

"You can walk away if you want, I wouldn’t stop you. But you won’t.”

What happens when he gets close? Do you want to test that? Do you want to test yourself?

A/N: My bad yall I kinda forgor to post, the only thoughts about this fic that I've had for two weeks is about finally finishing the current chapter I'm working on (chapter 15 hits AO3 in a couple of days, if you're waiting on that watch that space). Also I gotta say my favourite part of posting here is picking a slightly tangentially-related pic for the top, I always remember my thought processes for these chapters so they evoke scenes and ideas that I drew upon here. Iirc this chapter was written about July/August 2022, I remembering suffering from mega writer's block while working on this. I suffered so bad to write this one at the time. So enjoy it, enjoy my favourite bad bad man, I'm so in love with him it hurts.

~~~

Why is he here? He isn’t supposed to be here.

The sound of crunching glass immediately strikes fear into you, even if it is only momentary. No amount of exposure to it can make you used to it. Even though you don’t negatively associate the presence that accompanies it, something about how it sounds can never be spun in a positive light in your mind.

You had been previously leaning over a cardboard box of your belongings, packing up and ready to move out of the small flat that you’d previously called home. When you looked behind you, following the sound, you saw a sight that you knew to expect but hadn’t quite prepared for.

Harrow was leaning in your doorway, still holding on to that cane as if it helped at all. He looked exactly the same as when you’d first met him a few days prior, right down to the clothes. You hadn’t forgotten a single thing about him, and you should have welcomed the familiar sight, but something prevented you. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever told him where you lived, and he certainly hadn’t been invited.

You raised an eyebrow, suspicious of his sudden appearance. “Are you going to help or are you just going to watch?” You asked, only half sarcastic.

He tilted his head. “From my understanding it appears that you’ve already done most of the heavy lifting.”

“True, I could have done with you randomly showing up here an hour ago.” That was fully sarcastic, and you looked away from him to close up the box you were handling.

He began to take some steps forward, and you tried to hide your own repulsion to that sound that always followed him. “I apologise, I just wanted to oversee things.” He sounded genuine, but at the same time a little distant, noticing that you still looked at him with distrust.

You narrowed your eyes, watching him as he now stood next to you. The way he looked down at you made for an unintentionally intimidating presence that you refused to back down on. You tried to hide your feelings with a scoff and an unenthused smile. “What’s that supposed to mean? I wasn’t going to bail.”

His smile, which was supposed to be reassuring, only served to further stoke your rebellious flames. “I didn’t think you would.”

Finally, you became serious, unsure of his exact intentions. “I don’t need you to worry about me.” You insisted, but something didn’t seem to convince him.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have me worrying about you.” You were unable to hide your confusion when he put a hand on your shoulder, but it was only momentary when one of his damned smiles began to put you at ease. You didn’t mind him doing that, even if you didn’t understand it.

You could only look at him, not knowing how to reply to that. You didn’t really know what it meant, and didn’t dare ask. Given that context, you somewhat appreciated his unexpected company.

He leaned in and moved forward, with your response immediately being to brace yourself for whatever was to come. However, you were surprised to see him go around you instead. The rasp of his voice was next to left ear.

“It’s not too much further, but don’t get lost, alright?” Harrow asked. The question sounded almost playful, but you didn’t know how to respond to the game.

Pinned to the spot, you didn’t dare follow him with your gaze, but his sounds more than indicated him circling around you. He’d said his part, and you saw him again when he’d finished that lap, returning to where he had been a moment before.

He looked at you with a warm stare, a smile only just present. Your nervousness began to disappear at the sight. For once, you felt able to lower your guard. It felt safe.

What was this? Trust? On both our parts?

You only wished to know why he would do all of this for you, but as always, he was a total mystery. A mystery you hoped this new chapter of your life would solve.

***

Crunch, tap. Crunch, tap. Crunch, tap. Crunch, tap.

Anticipation was already eating at you as it was. That was enough torture for you. You didn’t need the addition of those sounds, which you thought you had escaped, getting to you through the walls. Not even the source being in another room could prevent you from having to experience it all over again.

It had been a week since you’d settled into this place. Your experience so far had been pretty good. Harrow’s promises had turned out not to be empty. Although you were still adjusting, you had found this environment to be welcoming, and the people rather kind. They weren’t like their leader at all, they all seemed… normal. When that realisation hit you, you didn’t feel so out of place anymore, and you had found great comfort in that.

Now, you were waiting in a hallway, the hot sun beaming through the windows straight onto you, not helping the already awkward situation. Directly across from you was the room that Harrow was supposed to be in. Well, there was no doubt that he was in it. You had been told that he wanted to see you, and that never really boded well.

You had already seen him a lot, but never in a context like this. Usually, he came to you. He would do that a lot, actually. You never objected to his company, sometimes you welcomed it. If you were alone, he always made sure that it was never for long. He didn’t seem to do this for other people, and they had noticed. No one had a definitive answer to explain that.

Something about the way he is just doesn’t sit right.

He would just sit with you and listen, but the conversation was awkward. He never talked about himself, and you had a hard time talking about yourself, so it mostly boiled down to talking about whatever seemed to be happening on that particular day. It wasn’t exactly riveting, but it was something? Regardless, you were running out of ground to cover. Something had to give. You knew there was something deeper, he had to have a motivation, but that was totally unknown to you.

He had stopped moving. You sighed loudly, trying to fill the eerie silence with something else. The moment was short-lived though, and almost as quickly as it disappeared you could hear him walking again.

Before you had time to process that, there was a clicking of a lock and one of the large, wooden doors that served as the room’s entrance opened a crack. Through it, you could see half of his face, and half of a warm smile.

“You’re here. Come in.” His enthusiasm surprised you, and you could tell he was happy to see you. You just weren’t sure why.

Once he had finished speaking, he just watched you, waiting for your move. You followed him, deliberately cautious. When you got close to the door, he pulled it open for you, revealing a large room that, while spacious, felt claustrophobic with its low-hanging lights and various items stacked up against the walls from top to bottom.

Harrow was shuffling towards the back, where a corner was stacked with sturdy, waist-high boxes. Littered there were various unknown, shiny objects. Drawn to those like a crow, he didn’t pay you much mind for a moment. You’re unable to find the same fascination, but everything around you looks alien to you.

You looked away from him for only a moment to try to better understand your surroundings, but right on cue, he opened his mouth, immediately making you whip your head back around in his direction.

“How are you taking to this place?” The question tumbles out of his mouth innocently. He didn’t even look at you, but somehow, you felt as if he was still staring right through you.

You tried not to let it get to you. “It’s good.” You replied.

He gives a satisfied hum, and for a moment, you’re tricked into thinking that would be all he would say on the matter. Before you can get comfortable, he takes a sharp breath that sets the tone. “Is it… helping?” He stares you down, hiding an eagerness for your answer. The pressure was on.

You recognised the way he looked at you. You’d seen it before. He’d looked like that in your first conversation, you remembered the flash in his eyes that he’d tried to hide. The ever-veiled threat.

Don’t be honest, tell him everything is fine.

You ignored the pleas of your own mind. Dismissed it as paranoia. You could trust him, or at least, you wanted to. For better or for worse, he had compelled you to be honest, but in your shame, you couldn’t look at him. “It’s too soon to say, I think.”

When you picked up the courage to glance his way again in the silence that followed, you could tell that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. His unblinking stare, the way his hands seemed to grasp tighter around that cane, all set off your mind’s warning sirens. But nothing on his expressionless face portrayed that. It appeared almost as a blank canvas, preparing to paint whichever response he deemed most appropriate.

Whatever plan he had, he’s changing it.

Your curiosity got the better of you. “What is all of this, anyway?” The question slips out of your mouth before you have time to fully evaluate the situation, your eyes darting around the room at all of the strange objects.

“Just items I’ve collected in my research.” He replied coolly, picking up an object that flashed gold in the light so brightly that you couldn’t quite tell what it was. “Most of these things are dead ends, but I find there’s no harm in keeping them, just in case.” He handled it with great care, carefully placing it back down. It didn’t quite match with the disinterested tone of his voice.

“And what about all of those?” You pointed to the back wall of the room, where some large - your first instinct was to call them boxes - but they were much more elaborate than that, were shoved into the corner, as if hidden. The longer your eyes lingered on them, the more you were able to discern that their size and shape seemed disturbingly human.

That idea didn’t make you totally comfortable, but you kept a cool head. Your better instinct, starting to understand his antics, knew to give him nothing to work with. You couldn’t let him have control of the game.

He didn’t even look at the subject of the conversation. His eyes instead locked with yours, the corner of his mouth twitching with indecision.

I’ve got you.

You could tell he knew how to pick his battles, but in choosing not to respond he had also admitted defeat. You had managed to call him out, and while that was a small personal victory, it was quickly followed with the realisation that your first examination must have been correct, and the implications were staggering. You could almost respect his ability to always come out on top in these conversations, if you weren’t the one always losing.

Under the weight of that realisation, your voice became hesitant. “Those aren’t what I think they are.”

Finally, he found his smile. “That would depend on what you think they are.” Now you’d given him something. Harrow leaned forward on his cane, completely calm. You thought you had caught him, but the indifference hadn’t shifted one bit. “I didn’t kill any of them, you know.” He stated.

You scoffed with sarcasm. “Yeah, sure.”

He wandered over to the bodies, brushing a hand over the nearest one. “You’d be surprised how many ancient Egyptians were buried with objects of immense value.” His words were a little quieter than usual, as if his mind was distracted.

You dare to take a step closer, standing next to him and looking down at his hand, now tracing the shape of what you assumed to be legs. “Went for a spot of grave robbing, did you?” You felt daring, confidence boosted by your minor win, and sought to further touch a nerve in him, but it didn’t seem to have any effect.

“I suppose you could say that. It made for some fascinating adventures, really.” He gave a small smile, and looked sentimental. You assumed that the thoughts that had made him distant in the moment were driven by nostalgia, and chose, despite the temptation, not to judge. He seemed to snap back into reality, a much more focused gaze now directed back at you. “But I’m past that point now. There’s not much exploring left to do.” He said that with real conviction, leaving you with no more questions.

The way he looked at you made you feel awkward, and you continued to apply the sarcasm. It was the only way you could express your distaste. “That’s great, I’m sure those dead people would prefer to remain undisturbed.”

You almost envied his ability to take all of the criticism levied at him without as much as a complaint. You had insulted just about everything he stood for and he didn’t seem to care one bit. He couldn’t be swayed.

That can only mean that he hides a terrifying level of commitment. You should be afraid of that.

You ignored your own thoughts, dismissing your own imagination as just overactive. You knew this already, yet you were still here.

Harrow was, as you knew him to be, unflappable. You could see the side of his face, and a smile creeping up it. “It’s all for a good cause. After all, if you try to hide something, it will always be found, eventually.” His face darkened during his last sentence, the instant seriousness putting you on edge. He turned, slowly but suddenly, and caused you to flinch as his intense gaze sliced through you. “They simply had it coming.”

You felt thoroughly intimidated, and tried to deconstruct his possible motivations, for you knew he’d wanted this response from you. It seemed like a reminder that you were playing with fire, and you were so, so close to being burnt.

Does he know something? Who am I kidding, he ALWAYS knows.

You suddenly began to remember how you even ended up here. Of course he wanted you for something. “Why did you want to see me?” You asked cautiously.

He seemed amused by that, as if you should have known the answer yourself. “I just wanted to talk. Properly. We haven’t been able to do that just yet.” Harrow tilted his head. The friendly sincerity that had followed him on the first night you’d met him had properly returned.

You gave him a look of confusion. “It’s not like we haven’t spoken-”

“Speaking and talking are two different things.” He cut you off, and while glancing down on you in a condescending manner, his tone doesn’t change, making for a creepy contrast. “You don’t seem very interested in doing the latter.”

Is this… impatience?

That seemed out of character for him. Curiosity began to get the better of you again, even though you seemed convinced that it would assure your downfall. You had a desire to outplay his games, but the line between beating him and playing into his hands was becoming increasingly blurred.

You gave a crafty smile, but spoke as if disinterested. It was the kind of contrast you could pick on, so you had no doubt in your mind that he had observed it too. “It’s not that I’m not interested, it’s that I don’t know how to.”

And you fucking scare me.

“Well, how about a lesson?”

The way he looked at you and the way he asked made him sound so innocent, but the demand was hidden under there. You couldn’t say no to him, even though you knew you should. It didn’t seem like an option.

“What would that be?” You asked, trying to suppress your feelings,

You couldn’t take his eyes off of him as he began to approach you, locked in place. Whatever was coming, you had to accept it. This was what he had wanted.

You only hoped he wasn’t asking too much of you.

He scoffed, a small smile forming. He acted like the answer was obvious. “You have to learn to accept help.” He leaned down a little to get on your level. “I am trying to help you.”

Perhaps it was the way he looked at you, that stare that always made you nervous. Or perhaps it was that he had all the energy of a teacher scolding a child. Something about his offer didn’t work for you. You gritted your teeth in annoyance. “You’re not doing a very good job of it.”

Your comment amused him, but he only lets that be known for a flash before he turned more serious. “That’s because it’s a two-way street. If you give me nothing, I can’t give you anything either.”

“What do you want from me, then?”

You expected his intentions to be suspicious. Every time you felt like you could trust him, he did something to change your mind, and you could tell he was doing all of this because he wanted something. There had to be an ulterior motive.

He gave an exasperated sigh, as if your questioning had tired him out. “I just want you to talk to me. That’s all I want. Nothing else.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, only watching as he stared right through you, as if waiting. For the first time, you weren’t objecting to his games out of choice, but out of confusion, totally clueless on what your next move should be.

Your silence must have surprised him, as he scoffed, but the advance warning did not prepare you for the volume of the chuckle that followed. “I want to know how to help you, I want to know how to fix your problems, and I want to see you more.” A relieved smile formed after his words.

He means it.

Despite your racing mind, you didn’t give away any emotion, and forced something, anything out of your mouth. “Why?” You asked softly.

Harrow looked towards the window for a beat, head tilting as he seemed to think. When the words came to him, he faced your way again, and you observed that he’d dropped the seriousness and the distance. There was something warm about his energy. He no longer looked past you, but at you. “Because letting you go would be a waste. A waste of someone good. Not just for the world, but…” He let out a long, drawn-out sigh, purposefully delaying the rest of his words. “For me.”

Suddenly, everything began to make sense. Somehow, this outcome had never crossed your mind. You hadn’t expected it. Perhaps you’d thought too much of him.

He’s not helping me, he’s helping himself?

You couldn’t help but wonder if all of this had been for his own ends. That you had simply been used. All of the promises he had made to you felt hollow. It made you feel sick. This was a trap.

In your confusion, you hesitated before getting your words out, nearly choking on them. “Do I really need to be here, or did you just want me to be here?”

The way he looked at you hadn’t changed, but in a new context he still appeared as distant as ever, even with the still-present smile.

Fuck! How does he feel nothing? He has to know what he’s done.

He straightened himself up a little, looking down on you. “That’s entirely up to you. You can walk away if you want, I wouldn’t stop you. But you won’t.” The smile seemed to more naturally fit to a newfound smug confidence, certain that he had read you like a book.

His conviction in your own feelings disgusted you. “You don’t know me.” You scowled.

He hummed, almost in agreement. “I know all of this is helping you.”

A tidal wave of emotions was overcoming you, too many too quickly to decide on one. It was the opposite to Harrow, calm and firmly decided on whatever that strange mind had settled on. You began to raise your voice: “Do not pretend to know me. How do I know you’re not acting selfishly? I-”

Knock, knock.

You gave a loud sigh, the knocks having completely ruined your train of thought. You could see, as always, that he was giving you nothing. Even now, when you’d tried to make an impact, you couldn’t break through his defences.

There’s a flash of irritation in his eyes at the idea of being interrupted, but as soon as a woman appears at the door, another disciple, it disappears. He appears to immediately understand the importance of whatever is to come.

“We just heard back from our contact in the Alps. They’ve agreed to your terms for the exchange.”

“That’s great news. Thank you.” His smile is warm and genuine, but the woman seems to register a subtle indication that his matter with you is private and swiftly leaves. He stared at the door, left ajar, his mind far more focused on the news he had just received.

After a beat of no response, he slowly approaches the door.

Crunch, tap. Crunch, tap. Crunch, tap. Cr-

Harrow slammed the door shut, turning to you now with a different expression. His eyes narrowed and darkened, and his offence was clear. For a moment, you felt something shift in the air. For the first time, you truly felt his power. You didn’t know the extent of it, as far as you’d seen and heard, it was stronger than it seemed, and the mystery of that was too much to bear. Anxiety suddenly began to eat at your stomach, afraid of his next move.

“Don’t assume I’m acting selfishly.” He growled, but in the span of a breath he had recomposed himself. All of a sudden his expression shifted in the blink of an eye, turning distant, unoffended. The same as usual, especially when you felt those ever-analytical eyes once again staring you down. He was far too good at hiding his feelings, but you wished to never find out again what he could possibly be thinking. He continued softly, thinly veiling a condescending tone: “That's almost insulting. I would never bring you into something that I didn’t think would be good for you.”

In that moment, you realised why he didn’t seem fazed at all by your negative reaction. Somehow, you were still playing his game. This is what he had expected. You were cornered, at this point, and the only solution left was to follow your heart, hoping that would help you escape.

He knows your heart.

“Forgive me for the insult.” You said sarcastically, not caring how he would respond, but still observing his unblinking gaze that didn’t even seem to register your comment. It unnerved you, and you folded your arms in an attempt to preserve your deteriorating defiant act. “I wouldn’t have that problem if I actually knew who the hell you were.”

He tilted his head with a smile, your words seeming to have the opposite of their intended effect on him. “I see how it is. It’s a matter of trust. That’s a starting point.” He sat down across from you, fingers stroking the head of the cane as he held it between his legs. That seemed to be a subconscious act, because his gaze did not once break from you. “Tell me, why don’t you trust me?”

You hated how genuine his question was, because you had long learned the lesson that always, somehow, Harrow already had every answer he ever needed.

“You already know.” You spat.

“I might.”

You gave him a nasty look for that comment, your contempt too great to suppress.

He responded to your stare with one of his own, but as per usual, he was seemingly immune to your efforts, continuing on as if your gaze hadn’t interrupted him. “I want to hear it from your perspective. Lay it all out.”

You raised an eyebrow, finding yourself leaning sideways on a table, sick of standing. “Only if you do the same.”

He paused for a moment, taking the time for a slow blink. You imagined that the gears of his mind must have been turning at your proposal, but his face did everything in its power to hide that. The silence betrayed the truth, though. With a deep breath and a shuffle as he straightened himself up, almost mirroring you as he leaned forwards and balancing on his own cane, he had prepared his answer.

“That seems reasonable.”

I didn’t expect that.

Even though you were surprised, you’d already rehearsed in your mind what you’d say to him. You’d been doing that for a week. You tried to take a trick out of his book and not betray that you had to think a little, though. With him, you knew that one wrong word and he’d play around it so expertly you’d never get this chance again. “Alright. I don’t trust you because I don’t understand you.”

He tilted his head in an almost adorable display of curiosity. “What don’t you understand?”

“Anything.” Your frustration started to come through as you spoke. “Why you are the way that you are.”

For a moment, he glanced away from you again, something you assumed to be a tell when he didn’t quite know what to say. When he spoke, any sense of uncertainty disappeared. He didn’t appear to be capable of seeming unsure. “There are some things in this world far beyond any of us, and if one was to cross paths with such things, they could break you in ways most of us could only imagine to be possible. For me, that happened long before all of this.” Although it was out of your field of view, you could hear him softly tap his cane against the wood.

You took a moment to process his words, suddenly brimming with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

He gave a dry chuckle. “You’ll probably find it unbelievable.”

Despite everything you had seen, your mind’s first instinct was to believe that he was simply making excuses, trying to dodge the question. He hadn’t been open about it in the past, which had only made you want to know more. There was something hidden in his heart that he was teasing you with. You snorted, dwelling on his words again. “Try me.”

This time, there was no telling moment of pause, his stare cutting right through you. “I was once under direct servitude of a god, who used that position to abuse me. He broke me completely, then left me all alone to pick up the pieces.”

His bluntness on this topic surprised you. This was a lot to throw in so quickly, and it seemed like he knew that.

“I was stuck, trapped fighting a worthless cause for years, all while the voice inside my head tried its hardest to bend me to its will. I was forced to commit unspeakable acts of violence, all in the name of real justice.” He spat those last words, face twisting to one that appeared to be of genuine disgust and pain. For the first time, the Harrow you knew looked somewhat vulnerable. “It never was. Hurting the people who deserved that after the fact never stopped any more pain from being inflicted.”

Guilt. You felt his, and the sudden appearance of your own. He had this appearance of something untouchable, and while you always knew it to be a carefully crafted image, it had achieved its intended effect. Hidden under all of that was something that was hurting a lot. More pain that you felt you could possibly understand. There was a real, deep history here. Even with how crazy it all sounded, you could tell by the way that he felt that it all had to be true. And that meant…

You had to stop yourself from speaking while your thoughts caught up, looking right at him as you saw his face slowly recover from the feelings that had taken over it before. “Everything this group believes…” These tales of gods aligned with everything you’d been hearing, and you knew what that meant. “It’s all real, isn’t it?”

“As real as you and me.” He found a smile again, standing up. His feet shifted on the glass, which must have brought some pain, but he didn’t show it. ”I knew you’d come around eventually. We have an opportunity now to correct our mistakes.”

As he took another step closer, you watched him carefully, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I think you mean your mistakes.”

“No. We’re all guilty.” He replied with total confidence, his voice once again shifting into something more serious. “Why are you here, really? You’ve made mistakes, haven’t you?” His questioning was a bit too antagonising for your tastes.

You didn’t say anything, knowing full well that you were both aware of the answer.

“For some of us, it’s not too late to walk a better path. You’ve got room for a second chance.” There was something reassuring to his words, and despite everything about him, you had no reason to doubt that particular statement, but he cut off any chance for a response with a sigh. “For myself, it’s not as clear. But you never know if you don’t try, do you?”

The talk of himself piqued your interest again. “I don’t get it. Why claim to fight all evil yet preach about second chances? If your actions were so unspeakable, why do you go unpunished?”

For a moment, he doesn’t give any reaction at all, seemingly thrown off by the question. When the answer comes, it appears with no hesitation. You can tell he’s pondered this question before. “I do punish myself. And on judgement day, if I am deemed unworthy… so be it. I accept my fate.”

He shifted his weight and you heard it. His punishment. The fanatic part of him was showing, you knew it had been hidden somewhere. This talk was insane, and served to remind you why you had been so apprehensive.

He’ll try to make you forget this.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you failed to respond, giving him the green light to not only continue with his words, but to approach until he was standing right next to you. “I’m willing to do that for the people who deserve heaven on earth. All that is required of you here is to be ready and waiting for that day. If you make it…” He put his hand on your shoulder, his warm touch surprising you. “It’ll be a little more worth it.”

There it is.

You felt doubt wash over you, refusing to believe that he spoke the truth. Not only because you didn’t hold yourself that high, but because you found yourself distrustful of his words. They were too kind, especially coming from him.

You could only look up at him, mouth agape. With a sigh, you composed yourself. “I doubt I make that much of a difference.”

He leaned in closer, an advance you did not reject, until his face was close to yours. His watery eyes hadn’t been this close before, and they looked at your own instead of through them. “You undervalue yourself.” He told you almost in a whisper, trying to be reassuring.

His words almost worked, and you giggle at the thought of them being true. “You overvalue me.”

He finds your reply entertaining for a moment, but his face quickly drops, and you can feel a finger or two in your hair. “Maybe. But you seem to think that you don’t matter, which simply isn’t true. People do value you.” He spoke with utter conviction, enough to make the back of your mind believe him.

“And who would those people be?” You questioned, hoping to hear what you knew he was thinking from his own mouth, but when he didn't respond, you realised your mistake. He doesn’t need to say anything, for he knows the same thing that you do: Your question has already been answered.

You took half of a step backwards away from him, and he follows your cue to break away. His face flashes with concern for a moment, and you didn’t miss it. You decided to make your question more specific. “Why do you care so much about me?”

He doesn’t think about his response for very long at all. “That’s a question I don’t know the answer to.”

His bluntness greatly surprised you. Him not appearing to know something surprised you more. “That’s a first.” Your sarcasm is kinder this time, unable to help yourself at making a jab that wasn’t necessarily deserved in your mind.

Of course, he doesn’t care how you’ve spoken, just that you have, and he takes a moment this time to get his words right. “I’ve spent a great deal of my life keeping people at a distance. I have a track record of hurting people in every way imaginable. I think perhaps I’m finally at the point where I’m no longer afraid of that.” Just like when talking about his past, there’s something shockingly sincere in his voice.

You caught onto his wording, hoping that he hadn’t thought that through in the moment. You knew that was a naïve thought. That realisation causes you to betray your concern. “You don’t hurt people anymore?”

“I don’t hurt them as much.” He replied callously.

That does not instil confidence. You wanted to chastise him for such a mindset, or even ask for elaboration, but your first and foremost thoughts are self-centred. “What about me?”

An opportunistic glint in his eye appeared after you asked. Before he even began to speak, you know that this is a moment he had been waiting to pounce on. “That brings me to why I summoned you here. I need to test you.”

“Test me how exactly?” You weren’t sure why you asked, because you already knew full well where he was going.

“The same way that I’m sure you’re familiar with.” The words tumbled out. He seemed much more focused on you, eyes glancing up and down over you. When his gaze calms down, he continues. “You were paying attention before, weren’t you?” He may have smiled, but you couldn’t tell if that was a joke or a threat.

For better or for worse, you remembered everything. “You said you didn’t force this on people.” You replied concernedly.

The proof that you had been listening previously strengthens his conviction. “Sometimes there are exceptions. And I need to know.”

“You need to know what?”

“If I’m right about you.” You could barely hear his words as he took a step closer, half overcome by nervousness and half because he had practically whispered that. He gave you a reassuring smile, but it only appeared for half a second.

You felt frozen as you felt him grab onto your wrists. You had been too busy watching his face to watch his arms, and from the point of contact you vow not to make that mistake again. He was surprisingly gentle and delicate with you, even taking great care to place the cold and strange-feeling cane between your own arms, but you knew from the way he looked at you warmly that this was out of a desire to make you feel comfortable with this process, almost as if he foresaw that you'd be afraid. You wondered if he was like that with everyone in his clutches. Out of pure discomfort, you couldn’t look back at him-

“Don’t look away. Look at me.” There’s no warmness left in his voice. It’s a demand.

You hated how he had basically read your mind. Confused, you felt you had no choice but to obey him. Something was happening, out of the corner of your eye there was movement from his arm and you could feel that cane move in some strange fashion, but his grip on you gradually tightened, and you didn’t dare to disobey him.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt his hold loosen. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then, all of a sudden, before you could react, he went in for a hug. You especially felt the one arm nearly wrap around your next, and his hot breath directly in your ear. “I apologise for all of that. For a moment, I didn’t trust my own judgement. But everything I believed before was right, there is a hope for you here.”

“So I passed?” Your question comes out shakier than you hoped.

“Yes.”

“What would have happened if I had failed?”

He gave you a condescending scoff, and you felt mocked for asking such a question. That was irrelevant to him. “Let’s not dwell on that. You are safe now, and no one will hurt you anymore.”

“Not even you?” You found some of your confidence again to force that question upon him, and you can tell when his smile breaks that it has forced him to think.

Something about all of this does not put your mind at ease. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never seen anyone fail the test, or maybe, you remind yourself, it’s because you are knee-deep in the clutches of a cult. Those thoughts are small compared to the main idea running through your head, though.

If I failed, I wouldn’t fit in his standards. I would have to die. He could have killed me. Could he kill me? I’ve never seen him kill anyone. Does he have that in him?

Harrow put a hand on your shoulder again. You now noticed that he seemed to do that a lot. “I will protect you myself. I know now that you’re absolutely worth it.” He had leaned in a little while he spoke, just to add a little more reassurance. You hope desperately that his protection is as valuable as his power. He certainly acted like it was.

You feel a finger brush up against your neck, and the sensation shakes you to your core. In that moment, he feels closer than he ever has before. There’s something so casual in his act, he either didn’t notice this move, or he pretended he didn’t. You already knew it was the latter.

“I hope that we’ve finally cleared up some confusion.” His gaze follows his hand, wandering around your neck until it locks back into your eyes. “Do you understand me?” The question, unlike his last few words, isn’t so kind. Once again, it’s a demand.

No.

“Somewhat.” You lied, knowing that he would not take the truth for an answer.

The way he looks at you suggests that he’s not entirely convinced, but for some unknown reason to you, it doesn’t bother him. “That’s progress. I want…” He pauses for a moment, and you immediately began to fear that a sincere moment was coming. ”something here. I want a deeper kind of relationship. Something that’s more than what we have right now.”

“More than strangers?”

You didn’t intend to be rude, but you didn’t regret your choice of wording. He was, in essence, a stranger that you saw a lot. No matter how much you talked, he was always so distant, as if he wasn’t really on this earth the same way you were. You were never going to be friends, but there was a space to be something else and he’d capitalised on it.

You could tell that he found your response to be harsher than he expected, but he didn’t seem too thrown off by it. You expected that he saw it coming, because he always just knew. The smile he gives almost seems to suggest that he found that funny, but you don’t know what a smile from him means anymore. “More than that, yes.”

In your amusement, you were able to smile yourself for the first time in a while. “I don’t know about that.”

Your own happiness seems to touch him, and continues with his warm words. “I asked you before to take a chance, and you took it. Right now, that’s paying off. All I’m asking you now is to do that again.” In the beats between sentences, you catch his head tilting a little. “You’ve been shutting me out. Please, allow me in.”

You don’t know what to say, feeling more lost for words than you had been before. You watched him, his smile this time not momentary, but waiting patiently. For some reason, you just could not say no. But you couldn’t say yes either, even if the small nod you ended up giving him proved otherwise.

I just can’t help myself, can I?

You don’t see it, but you feel his hand tapping you. “I’m proud of you. You’ve already grown so much.” There’s a great sense of elation on Harrow’s face. This was what he’d wanted, and you’d just given it to him.

You struggled to be proud of yourself. His seal of approval was never something you desired. What you had desired though, was help, and he’d provided that. He had yet to break his promises yet, so why would he start now?

A small part of your mind held on to a lingering thought that you couldn’t shake. You feared that perhaps the closer he gets, the more dangerous he becomes. You wanted someone to understand you, appreciate you, and care about you, but was this the right person?

If I keep things up like this, he won’t hurt me, though. It could all be alright. It’s all or nothing.

#arthur harrow #arthur harrow x reader #moon knight #ethan hawke

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