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oonajaeadira · 8 months

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Leave Off Your Wandering pt. 3: Autumn

Fandom: The Last of Us (TV)/ Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Reader: Adult female. Old enough to have been an adult on Outbreak Day. Wyoming born and bred. Sheep farmer, easy-going but confident and self-sufficient. Likes to sing, not a great cook. Childhood friend of Maria. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: T for now

Warnings: Angst. Canon-typical tragedy (not main characters). Childbirth. A few names that may twist a knife.

Summary: You give Joel a lot to think about.

A/N: Set after season 1 and then diverges. Does not acknowledge the existence of further plot/seasons, although I claim the right to steal ideas and bits of cannon from the second game if I want to for plot reasons later.

It takes a lot to gain Joel's trust, and even longer to tame him. Thanks for sticking it out this long. We're finally shifting into acceptance mode.

“No, they do not make you look old. They make you look like Joel Miller in glasses. Just like the last five pairs. These are distinguished.”

“Looks like something my old man would have worn.”

“Your dad must have been a stunner. Assume the position. Bottom line.”

Turning him by his shoulders, you square Joel up to the line on the floor across from the eye chart at the back of the Jackson commissary.

“P…E Z O L C…F…T D.”

You pass him a handwritten note. “Good. Now use the bottom half of the lenses to read this one. Do it without squinting.”

Taking the paper, he squints. You pull on his arm to distance it correctly and he stops. He stares at the paper for a while. You might be concerned at the pause if he wasn’t taking a comically elongated time, breathing out hard through his nose, his jaw ticking left to right, feigning decisions, trying not to laugh. “Gimme a pencil.”

Without taking your eyes off him, you reach over to the counter and snag a pencil out of a cup and hand it to him, watch his eyebrows lift, his head shake, and give another dramatic sigh as he marks the paper before handing both the note and the pencil back over to you.

Joel Miller, will you go to the harvest dance with me? [x] yes or [ ] no.

“I don’t think these are gonna work,” he points to the black frames on his face. “Can’t read a damn thing. Not one damn word–” He can’t even make it through the sentence without cracking a smile, and only fully laughs when you playfully punch him in the arm.

“I’ll have you know this is a binding contract whether you can see it or not,” you join him in the tease, fanning the note in his face. “Just how blind are you???”

“Well, maybe I was working up to asking you the same question so…I guess not as blind as you seem to think.”

This slowly melts your laughter down to a smile. “Working up to it? What’s there to work up to? You mean… Did you…not want to?”

When his own smile fades, you realize too late that maybe he didn’t.

While you and Joel have fallen into a close friendship over the past few months, sometimes that’s all it really seems to be. There are moments that come close to something more–an arm draped over the back of your chair–or perhaps across your shoulders–as you stand in the back yard watching the fireflies, always a ready hand to help you up from a chair or the ground. If the two of you are ever in the same room, he’s always near, keeping you on his left where he can hear you. It took a while, but both Joel and Ellie have just stopped knocking when they come by, treating your house as they do Maria and Tommy’s–like family.

There are times he smiles in that way where his eyes shimmer and you think he’s coming around to falling for you. But he never pushes for more and you are beginning to wonder if he even wants that. After all, you’d learned from Tommy what life in a QZ can do to a person….and that’s on top of all the years the brothers spent surviving in some of the most violent and criminal ways possible.

Sometimes when you all sit out on Maria’s porch after dinner and watch the sunset together, he might take your hand in one of his–big, warm, roughened but gentle. And it’s at those times you almost forget about how he’d used it in the past. Almost.

With his bare hands, Tommy had said. Just come up behind ‘em and squeeze.

It takes time to become someone else. You always knew you’d need patience.

You just never braced yourself for something….a little less than affection.

“Listen, Songbird,” he sighs, his jaw shifting hard to one side. “I don’t want you to think–”

“Oh yeah, lookin’ goooooood,” Ellie’s opinion precedes your notice of her entrance. “Hey there, professor. I was looking for a book on relativity. Any suggestions?”

Pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose, he ignores her sass and turns instead to the commissary register to mark down the inventory he’s taking. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Maria?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs, picking up an earthenware mug from a shelf and admiring the owl painted on it. “Her water broke. Baby’s coming. Can I claim this mug?”

“What??” Your body jerks, ready to run, but just barely holding back, shifting all the dismay you were just collecting and using it to power a new anxiety.

Joel’s head whips around, the glasses staying mercifully in place. “What are you doin’ looking for us? Go get Dr. Johnson!”

“Unclench yourself, my good sir. I already did. Went to her–” she says to him and then winks to you,”-- and Willa, thank you very much. You two didn’t tell me where you were going, you think I’m dumb enough to spend time hunting you down first? I’d be looking up and down Main forever. Have been. Almost went out back to see if you were eating spaghetti in the alley with one long noodle between you. Baby’s probably already here by now, jeez.” She spins on her heel, tapping the mug with a finger. “I’m taking this, thanks.”

Joel exchanges a look with you, the former conversation shoved roughly aside for a new concern. “I’ll register it and grab a few other necessaries. You go.”

This is no time to pick up the dropped dialogue but… maybe…should you stay and help? Oh. It takes a second to click that you can leave it to him. You don’t have to tell the man what’s needed for a new baby…after all, he knows more than you. Even if it was a whole other life or two ago.

And with a nod, you shelve your feelings for one more day and jog out the door to catch up with Ellie.

_____

Willa’s just walking out the door by the time you get to Maria and Tommy’s.

“You’re going?”

“For now,” she nods, working her shoes back onto her feet. “She’s got a while to go. It looks like it will be a pretty straightforward labor.”

“Did Dr. Johnson have anything to say?”

Her exhale tests high for irritation. “She’s upstairs. Why not go ask her yourself.”

“Wait. Willa. Did she send you away? I didn’t want to call her, but Joel thought–”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m going to go take a nap so I can get through the night. But she’s using up all the air in the room and what Maria needs is to rest as much as she can and let it come. A good midwife would know that. Too bad the medical authority in this town is a gastroenterologist and not an obstetrician. It’s a baby and she’s treating it like an obstructed bowel.” Muttering something further about obstructions and matters of the bowel in regards to Dr. Johnson, Willa pats you on the shoulder before making her exit. “Maria can have water for a couple more hours, then sips only. Make sure she eats something.”

Upstairs you find your old friend in full concentration mode–laying on her bed, eyes closed, breathing hard, forehead smooth but glistening–as she awaits the next contraction. Tommy’s curled up next to her, holding one of her hands, his forehead to her temple, matching her breath for breath.

Her other hand is being held aloft as the good Doctor checks her pulse. “Family only,” she condescends as you enter the room.

“Good idea,” you say, plonking down at the end of the bed with enough of a bounce that Maria opens her eyes and glares from behind her belly. When you point to her swollen feet and let your eyebrows request consent, she nods, shuts her eyes, and focuses back on the process as you take a foot onto your lap and start to massage.

Maria groans in contentment and Dr. Johnson takes it for discomfort. Turning to you, her silvery hair pulled back into a tight braid, her frown causes her jowls to deepen. “I really must insist that you clear the room. The fewer distractions she has, the better things are going to go for her.”

You pull your stockinged feet up onto the bed. “Is that how it was when you had kids?”

“I never had children,” the doctor snaps.

“I see. Well, Maria said she was gonna freak out if I wasn’t here, so it seems now we’ve got ourselves a conundrum between what the doctor says and the patient wants. But, seeing as how this is her second child and she is very much my family, I think I’m going with her wishes on this. I never got to meet the first one; I’m sure as hell not gonna miss a minute of my new godchild.”

“Who said you were going to be the godmother?” Maria grumbles.

“I did. It’s your own fault. You left the position open and nature abhors a vacuum, so I’m gonna plug my old ass into that hole.”

“You are mixing so many metaphors there. Where’s–nnnnn,” her face becomes a wall of teeth as the contraction hits, her body a live wire as you and Tommy move to soothe. It takes a good minute for her breathing to slow enough to ask, “Where’s…Willa?”

“She says she’ll check back in tonight. You’ll probably be at this awhile.”

“Well, then, if you’ve got your magic healing woman then I’m not really needed here,” Dr. Johnson’s smile only travels halfway up her face. “Blood pressure’s doing well, no signs of abnormality. I’m sure you’ll be just fine. If you need me, you know where to find me. Just send the foul-mouthed girl again. Certainly with a set of lungs like that, she can easily wake me up in a matter of minutes.”

Nobody stops the good doctor on her way out and the train of her passive-aggressive, attention-seeking attitude trails behind her.

“She means well,” Tommy answers your scathing look.

“Your wife didn’t ask for her.”

“My wife’s never been through labor without drugs before. And she’s older now. I just…” his eyes soften on her with concern as he leans in and presses a kiss to Maria’s forehead, “I just want her to be okay.”

“She’s Maria. Of course she will be.”

The subject groans with a minor cramp. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here and go make me a taco. I’m starving.”

She’s less than thrilled with the berries you bring instead– “water and fiber now, carbs later” –but is placated with you reading her to sleep from one of her favorite Amy Tan novels. Every now and then she wakes up with a contraction, but a little soothe in your voice and she’s out again.

After a few hours, Tommy goes to nap in a spare room and Willa returns with a bag full of clean linens, ready to take over, sending you out to get your own nap in.

It’s quiet downstairs, the setting sun throwing long shadows through the western windows, mixing with a few faint rainbows still filtering through the leaded stained glass over the door.

Maria’s not far from you in age. If there were still doctors in hospitals, they’d call her pregnancy not just geriatric, but advanced geriatric. Even with all the medicine that used to be available, she and the baby would still be under the care of several wary eyes. If they both make it, they’ll have beaten the odds. If they don’t–

Slumping down on the couch and pouring yourself over it–just to put your feet up and your head down for a second…just a second–you push worry out of your orbit. This isn’t a world to worry in anymore. What comes comes. All you can do is what you can do. Maria is strong. Tommy loves her. Willa’s capable. The baby’s on time. Everything’s going to be fine.

It has to be.

It hurts too much to consider an alternative.

_____

When your eyes open again, the house is dark and quiet, the sun long since set.

Although, not so quiet when your stomach growls. Nor so dark either, as you notice a faint glow coming from the kitchen.

A simple investigation leads you to a tea candle burning in a jar on the countertop, next to a scrap of paper with your name scrawled on it and a plate covered in a linen dishcloth, under which you discover a flatbread sandwich.

One look at the handwriting and you can imagine Joel coming by to check up on things only to find you asleep on the couch. There was no gentle-but-possibly-disruptive blanket-covering, no “thought you could use something to eat” beside your name on the note. Nothing but reverent candlelight and one word to let anyone who found the plate know for whom it was intended, no requests or commands, just a quiet devotion, a simple offering to a sleeping idol to be taken or left as you chose.

If he doesn’t want you to fall any harder for him, he’s doing a terrible job.

_____

The final labor comes the following morning, Tommy holding one of Maria’s hands and you the other–both of you gritting your teeth as her grip leaves bruises–and Willa holding the soles of Maria’s feet, giving her something to push against.

Joel’s been tasked with guarding the door to the house since Maria’s taken to screaming with each push–not in pain, but in ferocity–and the neighbors have been coming around in concern. He’s quick to turn them around and send them on their way and you’ve gathered from Ellie’s reports that they seemed offended until she started volunteering the information that Willa is upstairs helping out. Then everyone readily accepts that all is well and being taken care of.

But Maria, she’s the real star of the show here. Yes, she’s in pain, and yes, she’s tired and weeping–no tears, dehydrated–but she’s nothing if not a fighter. She wouldn’t be in Jackson without that being true. And, frankly, Jackson wouldn’t be Jackson if it weren’t true either.

When it’s all done and the delivery miraculously comes off without a hitch, when Willa checks the baby boy over and finds him responsive and healthy, ties him off and hands him over to Tommy, taking her leave to go wash up and rest, the room is eerily quiet.

“Hello, little man. I’m your dad,” Tommy whispers, on the edge of tears but too tired to cry as he sits next to Maria and shares the bundle with her, the two of them staring down in awe at the tiny new human. “I’m your dad, and this is your beautiful, strong, fantastic mamma. And your auntie’s here too and we’re all damn happy to meet you. Welcome home.”

Maria smiles wide, the pain already fading to memory, an unnecessary detail she’s gonna leave behind her in exchange for exponentially better days ahead.

“Good job, you three.” Adding to the kiss count on Maria’s head, you start to pick up some discarded towels and sheets, preparing to leave the new family to rest. “Did you finally agree on a name?”

“Oh, I think I settled early on,” Maria sighs, completely in love. “Riley.”

You hum in satisfaction. “Nice. Where’d that one come from?”

“Ellie suggested it and it just hit me right. It’s a good name for a boy or girl, but mostly I liked it because it’s a fighting name. All riled up and ready to go.”

“Sounds like trouble.”

Maria snorts. “Oh, I’m sure. After all, he is a Miller.”

“Damn right,” Tommy whispers, bestowing his legacy.

It’s an easy decision to make, your vow of silence. You’ll never let them know you feared losing her. Not when there’s more now to protect, more to love.

There's been enough fear. It isn't worth your time.

_____

Over the next week and change, a routine easily emerges. You make yourself available during the day for any needs–help with cooking, diaper washing, or just rocking Riley while Maria has a bath or Tommy needs a nap. After school, Ellie comes by and adds two more hands, truly turning childrearing into a village affair. Joel’s the last to add to the party after the sun starts getting low and construction on the new district slows down for the day, earlier if it’s his day for patrol. Every night is family dinner night now and sometimes Riley’s actually awake enough to join them.

Ellie can’t get enough of her new little friend. If she’s got empty hands she willingly fills them with baby, either rocking him or laying him on a cushion to watch him watching her. She’s not had a lot of experience with babies or newborns other than the lambs, but she’s a quick learner. It’s just one more thing that this harder world has deprived her of. Babies were few and far between in the QZ and Ellie seems bound and determined to make up for lost time, not wanting to miss an instant of growth or change.

Joel, on the other hand, is more stoic. If he was hard of hearing before, it almost completely disappears when Riley’s in the crook of his arm. He can’t help but be captivated by his new nephew and you catch a fond smile creeping along his cheek now and then, but there’s always something a little sad behind it, and when the light catches a glimmer off the face of his broken wristwatch, it’s not hard to guess what he’s thinking.

It’s during one of these moments when Maria’s napping and Ellie and Tommy are out in the yard, that you finish up the dishes and plop yourself down on the couch next to Joel.

“Your arm tired? Want me to take him?”

“No. I’m fine,” he says quietly, trying not to wake the boy. But the silence is more for himself than the baby–Riley sleeps hard. For now.

You simply draw a knee up onto the couch and lean your elbow against the back cushion, watching them, chin in hand.

“Where’s Ellie?” he finally asks.

“Enough leaves are down. Tommy’s out back showing her how to make a leaf pile. And what to do with it.”

He chuckles, knowing exactly what’s proper and good to do with leaf piles. “We used to have a big maple out back when we were kids. Dad spent hours raking and nothing he could say or do could keep us from demolishing his work. Whip our hides and we'd be back out there the next day making a mess.”

“Well, at least lawn maintenance isn’t such a priority anymore, right? Just think of all the leaf piles this one’s gonna get. Let the destruction commence.”

“Yeah.” It’s slow and subtle, but the light slowly leaks from him, a twilight descending over his brow. “I guess there’s still a few pleasures to be had for kids in this world.”

This is why he’s always so contemplative with Riley. Worrying. Taking everything he’s seen and experienced and piling them onto one little baby, doing the parent thing, hoping that they’ll have a better life…but doubting that it could ever happen.

“There’s always going to be something, Joel. If the world hadn’t gone to hell, there’d still be car accidents and kidnappers and war in some far off country and the capitalist job market. A kid has every chance to have a good life in this time as in any other. And even if it isn’t in the world we remember, this one has you and me and all of us in it to look after one little boy who gets to live a life. Isn’t that what’s great?”

“Is it?” He finally turns to you. “You think it’s a good idea to bring a kid into this disaster?”

His eyes lay bare the puncture you’ve made in him, his sorrow and apprehension starting to vent, and it seems he hopes you can patch the hole because god knows his hands are full and not steady enough to handle the delicate procedure.

“Hey. Kids are going to happen, Joel. People are still going to find each other and fall in love and I hate to break it to you, but babies are sometimes a consequence of that. Biology’s a hell of a thing. But just because it’s not the world we knew as kids doesn’t mean it’s not worth living in. In fact, Ellie and Riley are going to do better than us, because they were born into it. They’ll have all of this kind of living in their bones from birth and don’t have to take twenty years to relearn it all. Or use up twenty years living life with regret.”

You expect him not to take that well, but he surprises you, softens, and turns back to the baby, his eyes skipping to his watch.

Maria told you once that sometimes she’s glad that Kevin died. He was still young–only 3 and a half–but he would have remembered. He would have held trauma. Back then, a lot of the little ones were lost, either to hunger or to attack…they didn’t know enough to be quiet.

Sarah on the other hand…. Joel didn’t know it, but Tommy had said once that Sarah would have never made it in this world. Too good. Trusting. Gentle. She would have been taken advantage of or become severely damaged by the shift coming in her formative years. Children are resilient, but a teenager’s psyche could be a difficult thing.

“Still not a good idea,” he mumbles. “But he’s here now.”

“Thank god. Maria needed another man in her life to boss around.”

He’s not budged by your joke. Instead, he side-eyes you, hits you with a cynical question, trying to knock you off your rosy pedestal. “If you’re so happy about kids, why don’t you have any of your own?”

You shrug. “Got sheep. What. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what.”

“Not every woman wants kids, Mr. Man. Even if they like them a whole lot.”

“Biology’s a hell of a thing.”

Catching his not-so-clever info gathering, you smirk. “I had other things to concentrate on. And in the meantime, the factory had blessedly closed down.”

He can’t help the instinct that makes him truly assess you now. “You’re not old enough for that.”

You chuckle. “I’m starting to think what you don’t know about women could fill a few books, Joel Miller. You let me know when you’re ready to brush up.”

It’s at this point that Ellie calls in from the porch, telling Joel to “get your flat ass out here! Tommy says you’re a champion leaf-piler!”

“Goddammit,” he hisses as Riley starts to stir.

“Go on,” you smile, holding your arms out for the baby. “I’ve got him. We’ll need to wake his mamma up so he can eat soon anyway. Go on outside and play with the other kids. Be home before dark.”

_____

A few nights later, you’re making assessment in a full-length mirror on the inside of a closet door in a room in your house you very barely use. When was the last time you really had a look at yourself? And when was the last time you wore a dress?

Sure, it’s a fall dress, fine-knit by Addie as a gift for bringing her on as a Roostling so many years ago. You keep it for special occasions, which means you get to wear it maybe once a year. The wool is undyed, so the natural oat goes well with your brown leather work boots. Unfortunately, shoes are at a premium, so having a second pair just for fancy isn’t really a thing anymore. Doesn’t matter. The weather’s been a bit wet and the streets a bit muddy. Boots’ll do you just fine.

But you haven’t worn your hair like this in ages. Freshly washed and let to dry rather than set back or under a bandanna for utilitarian purposes, you almost forgot what it looked like natural like this.

You almost forgot that you could actually clean up quite pretty. Huh. Imagine forgetting a thing like that.

The knock at the front door’s expected. Even though Ellie and Joel come and go as they please, tonight you knew he’d do the polite thing and knock. The comfortable part of you wants to call down and tell him to just come in. But the hopeful part of you knows that this is his way of making an effort. Of taking a step your way.

“You sure?” you’d asked Maria earlier in the afternoon. “You’re gonna be okay for the night?”

“It’s a dance, not a trip to the moon. And Ellie’s here. We’ll have fun.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, clearly not happy about diaper changing duty, but smiling through it. “Please. Go. Get him out of the house. The later he comes home the better. Bonus points if he’s not back until morning.”

“Jesus, Ellie.”

Maria only smirked in full agreement.

He’s waiting on your porch when you open the door, one thumb tucked into his belt, the other holding onto a porch pillar as he examines the sole of one boot.

“You step in something?”

“Shit, I hope not. I just cleaned these. I thought–” but of course he stops when he looks up and sees you. Joel himself doesn’t have a lot of extra clothes, and is dressed in a clean dark flannel and jeans, nothing you haven’t seen before–although tucked in this time–his hair is still wet and slicked back, exposing more of the gray.

Your getup, however, is a new sight for him, and he’s struck enough to let it show on his face. So you give him a twirl, let the dress swing a bit. “Get your fill, I only bring this out like once a year. You’ve earned it this time.”

The smile is subtle, but it’s there, along with the tiniest of nods.

It’s not a long walk to the mess hall, but on your way you both determine that Joel’s definitely stepped in something, and yes, it’s still worth holding his hand. Horses are gonna horse and stepping in crap is an everyday occurrence when you live around animals at the end of the world. He seems grateful and maybe a bit chagrined, but neither does he seem ready to let you go.

The mess hall’s brightly lit; several jack-o-lanterns carved by the town’s kids adorn the long tables which spill out into the street to make room for the buffet and the dancefloor inside. A good portion of the town is out tonight and mingling under the canopy of string lights.

Addie and Goldie are the first to find you and greet you, the former admiring her own handiwork on your dress–even if she’s much improved over the years–and the latter pushing mugs of warm cider at you and Joel. Willa, it seems, took to the Roost short after Riley’s birth, always opting to take solitary watch during big gatherings and celebrations. But she did help with the decorations and is responsible for a good portion of the cornbread on the banquet table. When they start asking questions about the baby, Joel politely excuses himself, muttering something about getting you a plate.

“And how’re you doing?” Goldie asks, nodding after Joel. “I didn’t think that grump would warm up to anyone, but I suppose you’re tenacious enough when you want someone. I don’t blame you. Grey Fox indeed. If I was twenty years older, we’d have to share.”

“Yeah, he’s coming around.”

“Didn’t think you’d ever take up with anyone again. I heard Ellie had a run-in with the lye.”

A sudden lump rises, nothing you can’t swallow down. “She’s fine. And so am I. Maybe I'm a little lonely is all. Maybe I got a type. Here’s to hoping I’m wrong where it counts!” You smile wide, clinking your mug with Goldie’s and drink deep, chasing away whatever guilt rudely decided to come calling.

Tonight’s supposed to be happy. Tonight’s your night with Joel. Just you and him. No family, no interruptions. The past is the past. And this night is easily the first of many.

Soon enough you catch him waving you down at one of the tables and join him for dinner.

“Figured you weren’t picky, so I got you some of everything.”

“Hells bells, Foxy. Were you planning on dancing with me at all tonight? Because I won’t be able to move if I eat all of this.”

At least he swallows what he’s chewing so he can answer you between forkfuls. “Don’t worry. I’ll eat what you don’t.”

“Then how are you gonna dance?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t plan on gettin’ rowdy. Not with these knees.”

“Oh my god, you old man. Did you really come here with me just to sit and eat? There’s a band playing. And they’re good. You’re not gonna dance with me?”

“To be honest,” he says, straining above the chatter spilling out of the hall and taking another bite of chicken, getting it mostly down before continuing with a pained squint, “I was never good at it. One of those ‘stand around with a beer and watch the band play’ kinda guys. But a pretty girl wanted me to slow dance, I could do that. More swaying than anything.”

“Well I guess that’s something to look forward to then.”

“Good thing you’re easy to please.”

It’s another hour sitting at the communal table, the night settling in and the fiddle and guitar music rolling out from inside the hall. A few friends come by to visit, Missy Tippett makes her way to Joel’s right side to flirt and he pretends to hear her, answering all questions with a “yep” even if they aren’t yes or no queries and you do your best not to laugh. True to his word, Joel takes on the leavings of your meal–nearly half the plate–while you chat with folks, and he rises beautifully to the challenge. Without having to scrape and scramble in the QZ or starving out in the wilds, he’s put on weight since the spring, just enough to fill out his hollowed cheeks and pleasantly soften down his belly. He keeps active with the construction enough that he’s putting away more fuel than storage, but it’s good to see him enjoying the harvest.

You’re mid-conversation with one of Willa’s brothers when Joel taps a knuckle on your elbow. Turning to find him with his chin in his hand, he points inside of the mess hall where a slow song just started, an old Buddy Holly tune, True Love Waits. The time has come then. Like the worn shoe that he is, he gets up and re-tucks his shirt as you excuse yourself and then let him lead you inside to the dance floor.

He’s an old-schooler, guiding you close around your waist and taking your hand in one of his.

In all the time Joel and Ellie have been in Jackson what you’ve felt toward him was a strong pull, a crush, an attraction. It’s been years since you felt drawn to someone like this. But it isn’t until this moment that you actually register the ramp up and learn that your species of butterflies don’t really seem to reside in your belly, but behind your sternum. The tip of your nose and chin tingle with the proximity to his, his breath warm and apple-scented, his flannel smelling of soap and being dried in the sun. His hand fits perfectly at your lower back and your arm was made to curve up and around his sturdy, ample shoulder.

It’s that feeling where you can’t seem to look him in the eye for more than a fraction of a second for fear of losing control, and so you focus on his chin instead, yearning to land your lips there.

It takes most of the song to realize he’s doing the same with the top of your head.

You should say something; it feels odd not to be poking fun somehow. But then, you can’t think of a damn thing to say now that you’re exactly where you’ve been wanting to be all these many months. Well, nothing witty anyway.

“It’s been forever since I slow danced with anyone.”

“Out of choice, I assume,” he answers after a while. “Seems odd you being here so long and not spoken for.”

“Not everyone has to be paired up for life to be worth living.”

“Maybe not. But it looks like you want to and I’m not sure how anyone says no to you if you set your sights. You’re damn persistent.”

The song ends and you break to applaud, ready to quip back. But there’s a look on his face, and expression that you’re not able to categorize in the context of this moment, only that it looks like he might want to leave or be alone.

“Joel, I’m sorry if I pushed you. I know you’re still settling in. I didn’t mean to–”

But the next song starts up, sweet and slow–You Belong To Me–and he doesn’t give you a chance to finish. He just pulls you in close, tucking your head against his shoulder under his jaw, taking your hand again and holding it against himself.

“I’m settled,” is all he says as you sway.

Determination. That’s the expression. A commitment laced with lingering sadness or fear.

And that’s okay, you think. After everything he’s been through, that’s okay. As long as he wants to be here with me, everything’s going to be okay.

At the end of the song he peels away, and while the expression has softened, it still remains.

You reach for his hand. “You wanna walk?”

He nods. You let him lead.

Outside in the crisp autumn night air, he doesn’t take the direct path to your house, instead, he ambles slowly down another road, toward Maria and Tommy’s place.

Joel’s a thinker. He’s got things to say but needs to put them in order in his head first. So you let him organize while you walk slowly beside him, the light and the pretty violin ballad fading behind you. It takes a little longer than you expect and you’re almost to the house when he finally speaks.

“I’m not good at this.”

“You say that like there’s one right way. Like I’m expecting something out of you.”

It’s obviously not what he expected you to say. “But you are.”

“Okay, maybe. But I’m also willing to meet you where you are.”

“No, that’s not what…” he breathes out hard, frustrated that his thoughts are getting out of order, but you wait. “You should be…expecting…something. You should want me to…reciprocate.”

“I do want that, but I can’t force you and I know it.” You amble on, watch his jaw tick. “Joel, I’m crazy about you and I’d love nothing more than for you to feel the same way about me. It’s been a long time since I felt that way about someone. But I know it’s different for you. I know you were more recently attached, and for a long time–”

“It wasn’t like that. Well…wasn't like this, anyway.”

You follow him silently past Maria and Tommy’s place–dark, everyone asleep–and take a turn that will eventually lead you to your own house. A block goes by before he finds his next words.

“Tess and I…our lives…we were…rough with each other. Cared for each other, but we were hard. We had to keep on our toes, couldn’t let feelings get in the way or make mistakes. But all that…stuff… We had each other physically but we kept a lot at arm’s length. Like a survival mode. Conserving our energy for things that kept us alive. Safe.”

“I think I understand. Tommy said–”

“Tommy didn’t understand shit. He thought I was using Tess. But he was wrong.” Even if he’s keeping his voice even, his eyes cold, you can see his fist clenching and unclenching out of the corner of your eye. “I…I needed her and didn’t know it. She was right there and I should have… told her so. That’s what I think I’m saying. I don’t have any practice in anything that isn’t just surviving. And I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

“Are you pulling a ‘you deserve better’ on me?”

Another look of surprise. Again, you’ve thrown him for a loop.

“Because I do deserve better. You’re right. I do deserve to be loved and to be adored and to be happy. But so do you. Most of us do. Doesn’t mean everyone’s gonna get it. Sounds like you spent the last decade and change denying it for yourself and to someone else. But at least you had someone. At least you knew where you stood. Me, on the other hand…I spent the last decade remembering something like that and wishing it would come back, knowing it wouldn’t, and beating off any chance of having it again like a damn fool. Maria ever tell you about Troy?”

His headshake is subtle, but his look of concern not so much. You decide to let it roll off you just as you had with everyone else in the past ten years.

“Figures. Tommy’s got a big mouth but Maria’s always kept her trap shut when it’s not her story to tell.

“Troy was my...husband. We were married for three really good years. He was a refugee, like you. Came through from Seattle QZ with his sister. Ash was a wild one, loved the sheep. She was the last trainee we had before Ellie came out. She had a habit of wandering though, hopping the barrier for berries and honey and just to run free in the woods without a care in the world. Almost cut her off from going out to the Meadow, but Troy spoiled her, took her side in most things. His only weakness. Damn, I loved that stupid man so much.”

Coming up to your house, you take a seat on the steps, not ready to go inside yet. As you continue, Joel follows your lead and ends up beside you.

“You ever wonder why Maria and I don’t live on top of one another? Troy and I lived in the house next door. Once he died, I couldn’t bear to live there anymore.”

The breeze picks up and you give it a minute to die down. Joel’s voice pushes through your silence just above a whisper. “What happened?”

“Troy and Ash were out at the meadow and they weren’t answering the check-ins. So Willa and I went out there with the patrol. Right away we see almost the whole herd gathered in one lay. Not like them unless they’re protecting a sick or injured one. And that’s what they were doing, all huddled around the hole.

“Can’t say for certain how it went down, but from the looks of things, Ash got herself bit, nearly took off her forearm. Back then the area wasn’t so cleared out and Ash liked to play her chances outside the barriers as I’ve said. Must have scrambled back in and come looking for Troy or he brought her back thinking he could fix it and found out he was wrong. He blew her face clean off. He must have dug the hole and put her in it. Covered it with lye. Got in there with her. Shot himself.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Bodies were in pretty rough shape when we found ‘em.” The stars are bright tonight as you blink back tears in the dark. “I shouldn’t have let her go out there. I thought he would get her to take it seriously. I should have pushed. But. They were so close and I also know that I couldn’t ask him to choose my wants over hers. And in the end it looks like he wouldn’t have picked mine anyway.”

The power from the dam is being conserved for the harvest dance tonight, so the streetlamps are dark on your row. But the moon’s bright enough to catch Joel watching you, reassessing you.

“I’m very, very capable of deserving love, Joel. And I’m capable of giving it with my whole, stupid heart. I remember what the world used to be, and how it turned on a dime and how we all lost everything we were and had. And when I met Troy I thought that love could fix it. Nope. It doesn’t fix it. The past doesn’t go away. But it’s nice to have someone to walk through the better days with. To choose to live in the present and make it brighter.”

As if the world is an underscore to your story, one last, lonely cricket interrupts the silence, a holdout for the season, waiting a little too late to find itself a mate and a home.

“I’m a murderer, Songbird.”

It’s a simple statement.

“I know you are.”

“Just so you know. Just so you know what you’re getting into.”

Now it’s your turn to gather your thoughts. “We’re all a pile of our many selves. Who we were, who we choose to be going forward, how we see ourselves, how others see us. It’s all there, always will be. All of us a little broken. Fractured. But it doesn’t have to be just one thing forever. There’s no mark of Cain here. Just making choices every day to be the person you want to be. You find your people and you take care of them as best you can, and they do the same for you. You slip up, you start over tomorrow.”

And now it’s his turn to blink up at the night sky.

“You did what you had to do, Joel, we all did. We all had to revise the moral manual for a minute. Nice thing about Jackson these days is that there’s nothing you have to do. You can just do what you want, what makes you feel whole and alive. And if that’s something different every day, then that’s your choice. You say you’re not good at this, but you are. You danced with me. Walked with me. Listened. You’re just as good as you have to be and if you want to be better at it then you just...try again. You get unlimited tries.”

His expression is muddled in shadow, his face turned out of the light and focused on you.

Suddenly tired, you stand up and walk up the stairs to the door. “I had a nice time tonight, Foxy. The best. Even if it ended on a downer.”

“That’s my fault.”

“No. It’s nobody’s fault, it’s just what life is now sometimes. Will I see you tomorrow?”

He’s slow about it, but he climbs the last few steps to the porch. You were wrong about the solitary cricket; there’s still a few still pushing the limits, challenging the first frost, singing to the moonlight.

Reaching out, letting his fingertips trail your arm all the way down, he captures your hand to keep you still and moves in, slow and quiet.

When he finally kisses you, it’s a tentative declaration, a promise of what he can give right here, right now; his kiss lingers in apology, showing you in every way that he has trouble letting go, unpracticed in being tender, but he’s willing to try.

Finally.

Every second lingered is worth the wait, only because you can feel that it won’t be the last.

“Guess I shouldn’t put off until tomorrow what I can start on today then,” he says when he steps back.

“That's a real good start.”

There’s not much more to say as he makes his way down the steps off into the night and toward his own house. No need. No expectations. There’s always tomorrow.

And since Joel’s come to town, it seems like every tomorrow’s usually been better than the yesterday before.

_____

You’ve been sitting on Maria’s couch knitting a sweater in the chilly morning sun for at least a good hour when Ellie comes down from upstairs.

“Oh hey, you’re here,” she says, throwing herself down on the floor by your feet and beginning to paw through your basket.

“I am. Didn’t have any plans today, thought I’d come and be on hand. How’s Riley?”

“Down for one of many naps. He’s growing so fast already.” Finding a full spindle in your stash, she begins unwinding it and forming it into a neat ball with practiced hands.

“That’s what babies do. He’ll be walking and talking before you know it.”

“We should bring him out to see the sheep when he’s walking.”

“We’ve got a corral of milkers in town he can visit. Probably not a great idea taking kids out of town. You’ll see when he’s up and about. Little kids like get away from you and hear themselves scream. Hard to keep safe if you’re dumb and loud.”

“Oh. Right.” She’s silent a while, slowly building her yarn ball.

“Something you wanna ask me? It’s not like you to volunteer to help with this part.”

There’s a certain way Ellie chews her lip and scrunches it at the same time. “I was thinking of asking you…if I could stay behind next time you go out to the Roost.”

That makes you chuckle. “Riley’s a little more fascinating than the sheep right now, huh. What. You thought I’d be mad?”

“No, just…I do like being out there. But I also feel like I can help here. For now. And I know you’re skipping your weeks to be here and I thought if I stayed you could go and then there’s still enough of us around….”

“The sheep are in good hands, they can wait. I’m in no hurry and I don’t mind being here. But I appreciate it.”

The yarn’s coming to an end, the ball in her hands reaching a pleasing softball size. “Can I ask you a favor then?”

“Of course.”

“Tommy went out to the reconstruction site and left his lunch and Maria asked me to bring it to him so he doesn’t come home for it and wake her or the baby.”

“But you wanna stay here.”

“Yeah.”

“Good timing.” Smiling and finishing up your row, you tuck the needles and sweater into the basket. “It’s a nice, dry day for a walk and I’ve been meaning to go see that sector. Tell you what. Eye for an eye. I go out there, you ball up all those spindles while I’m gone. Don't undo my knitting."

What the autumn sun is lacking in warmth, Ellie makes up for it with that spark of unbridled joy. “Fuck yeah, deal!”

_____

Swinging a bundle bag full of Tommy’s lunch and other sundries, you walk out to the old north edge of town. The wall’s come down here, another one erected a handful of blocks beyond, re-civilization slowly sweeping and expanding out as the need arises. The houses are in varying stages of disrepair, repair, and some have come down to use for scrap. Your elementary teacher’s house is still here, getting a spiff-up treatment and you’re remembering Mrs. Erstine and her roses fondly when there’s a sharp whistle and call of your name.

Joel’s walking down the block toward you with an easy smile and you return it as he nears. It’s been a couple of weeks since the harvest dance and you haven’t seen each other much outside of family dinners and scattered evenings at Maria and Tommy’s’. Between the rush to get some of these homes fit for winter and you helping out with all the canning and preserving down at the mess hall, a twilight trio on the porch with Ellie here and there has been your scant means of together time.

“What’s brought you up this way? Everything okay?” He’s good enough to bend his neck a little so you can meet his patchy cheek in a kiss.

“Tommy forgot his lunch and Maria wants to spare him a trip.” You hold up the bag. “And I brought treats for you too.”

His finger hooks the bag, trying to peek in. “Really.”

“Nah ah, not until you take me to your leader.”

“My leader,” he scoffs, turning and leading you up the street. “Ain’t nothin’ he can do I don’t have to come up after him and fix.”

“Speaking of fixing, we could use new shingles at the Roost. It’s been wet and I’ve heard there’s a leak.”

“Yeah? When you going out next? I’ll go out with you.”

Turning onto a more wooded road, you both follow the sound of hammers. “Well, Goldie’s up there now and I usually take after her. I suppose I could go next week before the rains really start up.”

“Next week then.”

As you approach a beautiful A-frame home, Tommy’s over to one side at a couple of sawhorses, measuring out a beam. Joel calls out to his brother with the same whistle he gave you.

“It’ll be just you and me,” you say. “Ellie wants to stay home with Riley.”

Joel’s head whips around. “What?”

“Hey there, ma’am-o-jam, what brings you up here? Everything alright?” Just like his brother.

“Yeah, all’s well. You forgot your lunch and my legs needed a stretch.”

“Oh shit,” he grins. “I was just starting to get hungry. Thanks.”

“No problem.” You gesture to the house. “This is really beautiful. It’s like a bigger version of the Roost.”

“It’s nothin’ like the Roost. It’s on the ground.” Tommy smiles as you swat at him. “We’ve started with all the houses that need the least amount of help, tearing down the ones that need the most to fix ‘em up. This one had a lot of protection from the elements–the sun and the snow–from all these pines around it. All the windows still in place. Mostly just had to clear out a couple of overgrowths in the basement–probably the previous owners gone to seed. But it’s all good treated hardwood. Good bones. It’ll stand another century or two.”

A small, involuntary shiver passes through you at the casual mention of dead infected. “Did you burn them? The previous owners.”

Your reaction doesn't escape Joel’s notice. “Did it myself. There were a few in this section. It’s okay. They were long gone. Dry as a bone. It’s safe here.”

He’s earned a smile, even if it’s a sad one. “That’s good. They must have loved this house, to want to stay here, even when they didn’t know any better. Can’t blame ‘em. Anyway,” you go through your bag, lifting out a small parcel and handing the rest to Tommy, “here you go. But this is yours,” offering the parcel to Joel but then snatching it away as he reaches for it, “only if you promise to be honest and tell me if you like it or not.”

Joel’s eyes light up when he opens the package. “Holy shit; is that…pecan pie?”

And Tommy winks as he takes his lunch and walks back toward the house.

“Heard it was your favorite.” You can’t help but laugh at his big dumb grin. “Don’t be too excited! I obviously had to make every substitution. Walnuts for pecans, honey for sugar; it’s not exact, but it should be close enough. Been working on my bakes.”

Taking a bite, he shakes his head in what at first seems like pain but soon reveals itself to be the opposite. “Damn woman. And you only bring me one piece?”

“You’re a carpenter. That’s a triangle obviously cut out of a full circle. You know there’s more where that came from.” It’s a pleasure to watch him lose a battle against another big bite. “I take it you’re happy.”

His mouth full of sticky sweetness but the crow’s feet setting in, all he can do is chew and cock his head, looking you over as if to say, damn right I am.

_____

Joel’s quiet the whole ride to the Roost. It’s easy to guess what’s troubling him. A whole week alone should be exciting, but he’s worrying about expectations again and there hasn’t been much time to talk about it…or he just didn’t want to.

“Meadowlark to Goldfinch.”

“Present.”

“Bringing a Grey Fox in at the north gate.”

“Noted. You brought your own sheets I hope.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Joel’s frown and straightened shoulders as he suddenly loses the sympathetic gait with his horse. “Yup. Both sets. For two beds. Man’s here to work on that roof and I’m only payin’ him in food.”

“Ooof. Poor Joel. He deserves better.”

“Yeah, well I’m working on it. Boiled water last night and I didn’t even burn it.”

The banter seems to have relaxed him back into the saddle sag for the time being, and you keep it up until Goldie has you in her sights.

“I know you like sleeping under the stars, Foxy, but it’s been cold and wet. Bed’s yours. I’ll take the top bunk.”

“Fine,” he grunts.

“And you’re not allowed to go up on the roof unless I’m around to spot you.”

“I can handle it.”

“Oh, I’m sure, but my nerves can’t. And this is my domain. I’m the boss out here.”

This gets you one half serving of smile with a side of eyeroll. “Yes ma’am.”

Once you’re settled in, Joel descends the ladder and starts going through the woodpile, looking for adequate repair material, taking up the axe to split some logs for shingles while you go take a cursory round through the meadows.

The sheep are mostly on the near side by the copse of trees housing the Roost, keeping a tight flock, settled down and facing into the wind. A few bleat as you arrive but none of them skitter, allowing you to pat a couple as they chew cud and to check any for painted marks in case Goldie found one of them sick or lame. Other than one small ram that wants to playfully butt you in the thigh, all seems well. The rest of the flock is mostly down by the river and you take a little time to make some noise and shoo them toward the others before circling back to the Roost….

…which is where you find Joel Miller up on the ladder prying at rotted shingles.

“What the hell did I say, Cinnamon Roll?”

“Hold your britches,” he calls down. “I’m just assessing.”

“How am I supposed to get up there and you got the ladder?”

“Oh now we have a quandary,” he jokes. “What are you gonna do if I don’t let you up?”

“You think I haven’t slept out with the sheep before? I’d have no issue with it but that it’s gonna rain, so maybe you should let me up so I can help and make that repair go faster.”

Coming down and moving the ladder to the balcony drop, he scans the sky with doubts. “What makes you think it’s gonna rain?”

“Because I read sheep.”

“You read sheep.”

“Yeah. They spell it out like a marching band. RAIN. Big letters. Cursive. Could you just–”

The ladder comes sliding down with a thunk and you climb, taking his helping hand as you reach the top.

He smirks. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

All you can do is shake your head and hide your grin. “Don’t you dare. I’m gonna get my gloves.”

As he starts to heft the ladder back up, you go inside and quickly grab a wool hat and a pair of deerhide gloves from your pack. Turning to go back out though, a glint catches your eye near the door.

There’s a new nail in the wall.

With a broken watch hanging from it.

Huh.

This must be the place where he feels like he can be free of it and of the past you gather it represents for him. A special spot for it by the door where he won’t forget it when he leaves, somewhere he can see it if he needs it, but not carry it so much.

It’s a nice piece but for the hole. Well cared for. 2:40. You realize with a little regret that you missed the anniversary, that Outbreak Day no longer registers. Which means you also didn’t–

He doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday, Tommy once said.

It had come and gone without much fuss. But also without any noticeable misery. Railroaded by a new nephew and hard work.

That’s good. He’s not forgetting, just letting it rest. Someday it will be a good day again.

“You gonna get out here and hold this thing or what? You’re the one said rain is coming.”

“Not me. It was the sheep. Hold your britches or get a better belt. I’m coming.”

_____

A gentle roll of thunder wakes you in the night and the Roost is dark as you listen for a moment to the rain pattering against the roof slanting up and over you, inches away. Tuning in, you train your ear for a hard patter, a splotch, any indication that the roof patch didn’t hold, but of course it has. It was mended by Joel Miller himself.

Well, at least it’s dry, but damn, it’s chilly. A glance toward the little iron stove shows you nothing but darkness, which means the fire’s out. As much as it hurts to leave the little nest of warmth you do have, it’s probably better to relight it and warm the place by morning, so down the bunk ladder you go, being as quiet as possible.

Somehow, it's always comforting waking up at night at the Roost. Your house in town is too quiet at night, too full of the possibility of unfamiliar ghosts--of those that lived there, of the society it held, of your own loneliness. At least out here you feel held by the trees and needed by the sheep. There are ghosts buried out there in the meadow, but they're long gone now, part of the land itself, land that was always wild and free and full of the kind of life that wasn't destroyed all at once in one day. Night at the Roost is a quiet comfort, a place of purpose and sisterhood and family. It's full of wooden and woolen things made by hands you know and is welcoming to everyone, including the moonlight and the stars.

It takes a little doing with the wind up and you have to manipulate the flue a bit, but after a few minutes there’s a lovely crackling and smell of pine. Padding over to the chair by the window to snatch the wool blanket there, you stop for a minute to look out at the storm, trying to catch a glimpse of the sheep in a flash of lightning, but there’s not much of that to be had, so you wrap the blanket around yourself and make your way back to the bunk ladder.

“Sheep okay out there?” Joel mumbles in the dimness from his bed, somewhere near your knee.

“They’re fine. Did I wake you up?”

“No. Been listening to the rain a while. You cold?”

“Yeah. Fire went out. You?”

His answer comes in the form of something like a sail in the darkness and it takes a second to realize that he’s holding his blankets open in an invitation. “Come on. You’re gonna let the heat out.”

Sliding into Joel’s warmth is an easy decision to make. And it’s not just the warmth of his sheets, but that he brings the covers around you, pulling you all the way into his chest against his soft old undershirt, tucking you in under his chin, wrapping you up in his whole, woodsmoke-scented self.

Every tension in you simply melts into bliss.

Resting his lips against your forehead, his breath fans gently at your hair. “I could get used to this.”

A long hum rides out on your exhale. “I think I already am.”

“You’re a good woman, you know that?”

“Spoken like a true Texan.”

A long kiss presses into your forehead. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I’m gonna do my best to be good again, Songbird. Hope I can be what you want.”

“That’s easier than you imagine. You’ve been what I want since you showed up around here, so I’m already quite pleased. Hope I can be what you want.”

A new warmth takes you over as he starts to spread his hand along your back, simply running over your contours, testing out what it’s like to hold someone this way, slowly caressing, lightly squeezing, tucking you in tighter. “You seem to know what I want before I even do. I look forward to finding out what I want next.”

“Well, I have to admit. Your brother tipped me off about the pecan pie.”

He laughs a little as he tips your chin up to meet you in a kiss in the dark. It’s hesitant but hungry; a long time needed and a long time savored.

“Did your sheep say it was supposed to rain all day?”

His hair and beard ruffle softly under your fingertips. “I didn’t ask, but I think it probably will. Sure hope that new roof holds.”

“We could always just stay right here and keep an eye on it.”

“See? You know exactly what you want. We can do that. I’d say that’s a good day’s work.”

His hand splays big and warm on your back, pinning you close for another kiss. “I tend to agree.”

_____

PREVIOUS: SUMMER

NEXT: WINTER (coming soon)

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

#leave off your wandering #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x meadowlark #joel miller x mature reader

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thoughtsfromlayla · 9 days

Text

Chapter One - Meretricious

Summary: Newly married and yet you already feel the loss of a spouse. The fight night as Queen was not how you expected it to be.

Notes: ~5.4k words. I feel like I write a lot of angst but does that mean I'm good at it? Probably not. Not edited

Warnings: implied cheating, subtle mentions of panic attacks, dubcon with no follow through

Tag list is open, just let me know!

☾ ✴ ๋࣭ ⭑․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․ ․⋆⋮. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆⭒˚.⋆⋮⋆․

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Prologue ⇆ Next

Meretricious (adj.) - attractive on the surface but having, in reality, no value or substance

‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

By the time the ceremony was over and you were sitting at the lover’s table at the head of the banquet hall did you snap out of your phase. More specifically the food snapped you out of your phase. You have no idea how the cooks knew to serve you your favorite dish but they managed to get their hands on that information.

The steaming food is served fresh and hot and placed delicately in front of you. Your stomach lurches as it realizes it hasn't eaten anything today. Your finger twitches as it reaches for the fork but stops short when you see that King Morpheus hadn’t moved to begin eating. You use all of your willpower to stop yourself, instead fiddling with the one of the many ribbons that decorated your body.

Unknown to you, Morpheus sees your dilemma and even if he didn’t particularly find himself hungry, he moves to take a bite. He notices the way you perk up at the action and begins to eat yourself, thoroughly enjoying the meal. He stops himself when he realizes that he was smiling at your actions.

From your seat, you see your mom’s eyes boring into you with a slight frown. Your mother nods her head in the direction of the king, eyes slightly bugging out of her eyes as her lips turn downward. She nods again when you tilt your head in confusion at her odd messaging.

“Talk,” She mouths at you before huffing and returning to conversation at her table. Her hand rests easily on your father’s back when she looks back at you one more time with another obvious nod.

You clear your throat in preparation.

“So,” You start.

“My lady,” He begins as well.

The both of you stop talking as the other interrupts. After a pregnant pause, King Morpheus clears his throat and urges you to continue.

“Please, I insist,” He comments with an open palm, gesturing towards you.

As if by magic, all typical conversation starters seem to fizzle out of your head, even in muscle memory of the countless hours with your governess could not have saved you in this moment. What do you even say to the King?

“How do you find the evening, Your Majesty?” You ask and immediately wish to hide under the many layers of your lavish dress at the question. You take a quiet deep breath to reset yourself at how increasingly awkward you had made the night. If not for him, then certainly for yourself.

You did not forget the way he dropped your hands as soon as the vows stopped, nor the way that he all but ignored you the most that he could. Only talking to you now as you are forced into proximity with him.

“Morpheus will be fine between us as we are married,” He comments slowly and takes a sip of his wine.

“Very well… Morpheus,” You test the name on your tongue. It felt barren without his title attached to it, but it was just something you would have to get used to.

“I find the evening well,” He replies without waiting a beat and takes another bite of his food.

The tension was thick in the air, something that you couldn’t even cut with a sharp knife. The guests were talking amongst themselves, the food and wine good, but there was a clear and defined wedge between you and Morpheus. You’re determined to remove it as quickly as possible, Gods know you would prefer an amicable relationship even if forced into it. Yet, all words die from your mouth. The conversation has run dry before it even barely started. You only reply with a hum in acknowledgement before returning to your own dish as well.

The silence is short lived as Three approaches the lover’s table. They walked in unison and in a line, their faces passive as they came closer. Morpheus was quick to notice them as well, and stood as they came closer. Uncertainty washes over you at his action and you decide best to follow suit.

You stand, hand placed delicately over your lower stomach, but your foot crosses over your heel to ground yourself a bit.

“Morpheus!” The youngest greets with a smile.

“Ladies,” He returns the greeting. His eyes don’t leave theirs but he bows nonetheless.

You’re quick to follow and give a curtsy as deep as the table could let you. You are way over your head. Never in your seemingly smaller life have you witnessed someone, some three, who warranted a bow from the king.

The middle aged woman comes close to you when you stand up again, reaching over the short table to cup at your cheeks.

“Oh, you are a peach, you are!” She gushes with a toothy smile. Small wrinkles crease along her eyes and mouth as she does. Her hands are soft but calloused all the same. “You are a perfect match for our dear Moprheus, I can feel it.” She whispers, mostly to herself.

If Morpheus heard it, it certainly ignored it. Instead he redirects the conversation skillfully. The eldest ignores it, finding herself in front of you again and cups your cheeks just like the one before. Her hands are smooth and boney as they hold onto your face. Her face is less kind, gazing at you down her nose as she scrutinizes you. Her eyes seemingly cross over your mortal vessel into your very soul. She sees its timid nature, yet a hardened fire that just needed some hardship to see.

“We come bringing gifts for the joyous occasion!” The youngest interrupts her older self, who walks back in line with the other two.

“How kind of the Lady Fates.” Comes Morpheus’ perfect answer, he bows again and you follow.

The youngest walks up first, and places an ornate wooden box onto the table. It’s framed in gold and silver with swirling designs and flowers. Her delicate fingers open the box and face it towards the two of you. Within, surrounded by red silk were two carved figurines that didn’t vaguely represent anyone you’ve ever met. They were stocky in shape, but detailed through a masterful paint job and varnish.

“From the Maiden, I give Your Majesties a friend in a dire situation,” She announces and then closes the box with a soft click. She walks back in line as the next one walks forward.

She doesn’t say anything, instead she only holds out both of her hands. After an awkward pregnant pause, she sighs and moves her fingers, indicating to hold her hand. You place your left hand in hers to which she smiles with a small nod of her hand towards you. Morpheus places his right hand on hers after yours but she drops it quickly with a scowl and a tick from her tongue.

“The other hand, child,” She sighs again.

Morpheus switches his arm quickly and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from giggling in front of him. His body faces closer to you as to easier place his hand on the Mother. The smell of his cologne invades your senses, filling in your mind with the smell of sand and something sweet you couldn’t place your finger on.

“From the Mother, I give Your Majesties an unyielding connection,” She proclaims and holds your hands harder.

Your mind swirls with thoughts. What does she mean by an unyielding connection? You look at Morpheus from under your eyelashes only to see that he’s already looking at you. If you were going to be completely honest, you did not want to consummate the marriage tonight. You would be lying, again, if you were to say you weren’t physically attracted to him, but the issue lies with one thing: you don’t know him.

Morpheus seethes quietly at the Mother’s gift. He didn’t choose to love you and yet here he was, about to be forever connected to you even more. He hates how innocent you look at him through your eyelashes, how he can see each detail of your eyes, and the softness of your lips. He hates how he can’t stop himself from traveling his eyes lower to swipe across your protruding collarbones or how your bosom rises and falls with your breath, only more obvious due to your corset.

The two of you stare down each other, both with reasons unknown to the other as the Mother finishes her wish. Both of you not noticing the way the wedding bands glow in gold with new engravings swirling into the metal. When the Mother steps away, both of you pull your hands away at the same time, and go back to standing side to side instead of facing each other, content with ignoring each other.

“One more gift, then back to awkward silence,” You think to yourself. Though you don’t prefer it, you much prefer to make good conversation, but anything is better than this.

As the Mother returns in line, the last, the eldest comes forth on legs that have walked centuries before you were born. She, like her sister-self before her, holds out her hands, palms facing upwards as a string of light crawls out of the center of her palm. With her other hand, she plucks it with a sharp tug and holds the glowing string between her fingers.

“From the Crone, I give Your Majesties a string of hope,” She explains. She fingers tug again and separate the strings.

When they let go, they are autonomous and float on their own, binding themselves around your right wrist. A hiss escapes you as an acute hot flash encircles your skin where the string comes in contact with. When the glowing resides, a woven bracelet of red and a single entanglement of black rests easy on your skin. The string has no beginning nor end and wears snuggly on your wrist. It is rigid, despite looking as if made from soft cotton, and you’re sure that even if you cut off your wrist, it would not yield. You peak over at Morpheus again, taking note of his matching set of woven black and a single entanglement of red. It is the same as yours, down to the material, design, and pattern but only reverse in color.

“Thank you, my fair Ladies,” You express with a small smile, placing your hands back into position in front of you. Your stomach growled again, though very faint, and wished to go back to eating. However, the Lady Fates have yet to leave from their position. Morpheus was standing as still as ever, but from your position, you could tell even he was starting to get antsy from how his middle twitched against his pant leg.

“Of course, my dear!” The Maiden spoke.

“Each of our gifts will come to fruition in due time.” The Mother continues.

“Now, we ask you to share a dance for our enjoyment.” The Crone finishes.

“A dance, what a wonderful idea!” The Maiden agrees quickly. She grabs her sisterselves and stand off to the side.

Your heart jumps in your chest with happy flutters and tapping feet but you soothe it quickly. Judging by Morpheus’ character, it would more likely be true that he doesn’t enjoy something like dancing. That isn’t to say he can’t dance, a man of his standing surely would know how.

“We do not-” Your words die in your mouth as he bows to you with an extended hand.

“Shall we take to the floor, my lady?” He invites.

His eyes don’t meet yours and you’re skeptical but with the Lady Fates staring intensely at the two of you, you feel obliged to take his hand even if you didn’t want to force him to do something he didn’t want to do.

Hand in hand, he leads you to the center of the empty dance floor, the marble floor recently polished for the special occasion. The falls into a hush as the two of you bow to each other one more time before coming together in an embrace. His cologne embraces you again and this time you’re able to pick out the smell of licorice past the smell of earth and sand. A bitter sweetness.

The music swells in a classic waltz and Morpheus leads you easily. Your feet dance as it always had, feeling the pressure on the balls of your feet as the two of you glide across the floor. But, there was something lacking in the dance between you and your new husband. The dance was stiff, even if he did lead effectively. There was nothing between the two of you, no passion, no soul.

It wouldn’t be a lie if you said you wished there was something more between the two of you. You’re no stranger to arranged marriages, your mother and father being a prime example of such and even they eventually grew to love one another, in their own ways. The way his hand grasped yours gently and how perfectly he took control over the dance were qualities that you liked and perhaps, in time, you would find more things to love about him. For now, these small things could be enough.

“Who were those Ladies that we spoke to earlier?” You ask, hoping to fill in the awkward silence. The conversation is hush and barely audible above the draw of string across the instrument. If nothing, the audience will think the two of you were sharing a lover’s conversation.

“The Lady Fates, sisters,” Morpheus explains curtly and his fingers grip yours tighter unconsciously. “Do not make them cross, they are wiser beyond their years and believe me when I say that they are older than they look.”

“Even the youngest?” You ask, the warning barely scraping over your head.

“Yes.”

Another swell of the music from the orchestra and from the corner of your mind you see your mother and father taking to the dance floor as well, but the observation is easily lost as Morpheus spins you around, abruptly. He grabs you again as you come back to him, gently repositioning his hand on your waist and yours on his shoulder as the dance continues. The spin was completely impromptu, you know only because of how often you’ve practiced this dance. You couldn’t help the first real smile of the night from appearing on your face as you felt the wind between your faces and how the fabric of your dress swept across your ankles.

“Do you like to dance?” He breaks to silence this time.

“Yes,” You practically beam into him, the single spin able to loosen you. “It is one of my favorite activities. And what of you, my lord?”

“I am indifferent to it,” He answers lightly as he spins you again.

“I see.” You say back, your voice dipped lightly in disappointment. “Did you only dance because the Lady Fates asked you to?” You ask, even though you’re sure to know the answer.

“Yes.” Morpheus takes a moment to answer, his mind seemingly elsewhere as his eyes look over your head.

More and more couples join the two of you as the waltz continues but as the dance continues, the more distracted Morpheus seems to be, on one occasion stepping on your toes, marking the white shoes in a partial black footprint.

“My apologies, I am… distracted,” He says, but his eyes are still looking over your head.

You turn your head around to try and figure out what exactly he was occupying his occasion but with the several new bodies that accompanied the two of you on the dance floor, it was hard to make out what specifics he was looking at.

The dance ends soon after with a final bow to the other. He excuses himself and leaves you on the dance floor, alone, breath unsteady from the dance or something else you’re not entirely sure. You hold your breath for a few seconds, willing yourself to breathe easier. A new dance started and you’re quick to make yourself sparse as couples start swirling around you. Your vision blurs the color of multiple ballgowns as you’re desperate to find some fresh air, and hopefully also somewhere away from prying eyes.

You find salvation at the corner of an open balcony, only accompanied by potted flowers. The chatter of the party is all but background noise now, separated by paned doors and the light from the ballroom gave you enough to know where you were stepping. The cooler breeze for the night was refreshing against your flushed skin as you leaned against the stone railing. You breathe in deep and smell the distant sea, calming yourself down further.

There were other couples on the wrap around balcony and they, much to your relief, left you alone. Rather they were more entranced by their own conversations to notice your slowly growing dismay. A strong gust of wind makes you take a few steps back to lean against the corner wall, resting your head against the rough stone and away from the incoming gale.

“Calliope, please,” A familiar voice brings you out of your thoughts. It doesn’t take long for you to figure it to be Morpheus.

“No, Morpheus. You need to listen to me.” Comes a voice you don’t recognize, a feminine voice.

Your thoughts race yet again, is this why Morpheus was so distracted during the dance? Is it also the reason why he abandoned you on that dance floor?

“Please,” He begs again. Begs. “You must know I didn’t choose her. I don’t love her, I love you, please.” He gasps desperately, his voice on the edge of a whisper.

A long silence follows as the other woman simply sighs. The silence was too long, it felt more like a rope wrapping itself around your neck, taking away your breath and your ability to think clearly. How ironic it is that you come out here to seek some fresh air, yet instead you find yourself stumbling back into the ballroom on the brink of tears.

Once again, everyone else was enjoying their time to pay too much attention to you. Slowly, you creep back into your seat at the lover’s table as you alternate between trying to calm your breath and forgetting to breathe in general. The corset around your ribs could not feel anymore tighter.

The food at the table has long since gone cold, your appetite leaving with it. Your eyes haven’t left the door you came from, the night air wisping through the thin curtains. With shaking hands you reach for the red wine and take several large drinks from it. The sweet taste goes smoothly down your throat, but it’s bitter aftertaste feels like acid and vomit on your tongue.

Slowly, the guests meander out the large doors of the venue. Still, you sit alone as you watch them go, their high spirits still intact as they continue their conversations outside. A flash of black is followed by soft pink and gold from the paned doors you have been so adamantly staring at. One, you noticed immediately by the way his cold mercury eyes find yours easily. Your fingers roll the thin neck of the wine glass slowly as he comes ever closer to his seat.

The owner of soft pink and gold walks the other direction and joins the crowd of awaiting guests outside. You catch a glimpse of her brown hair and brown eyes as she looks at you over her shoulder. Her eyes seem to soften when they realize that you were already looking at her, but otherwise she does nothing. A footman dressed in the kingdom’s midnight blue and silver color hands her a small basket of shimmering stardust before she fully disappears with similar guests.

When Morpheus arrives at the table, most of the guests are now waiting outside. He doesn’t sit, instead stands by his chair and goes to grab at his wine as well. Unlike you, he takes his time sipping it. A frown sits heavy on his face as he ponders. It doesn’t last long.

“Let us depart,” He says as he places the wine down on the clothed table. It wasn't an invitation nor a question, simply a statement that he expects to be followed. It takes a moment for you to recognize what he was asking of you.

You only nod as it catches up with you. You drink the final bits of your wine, knowing it won’t be enough to make you forget the events of tonight. But you hope anyway.

Morpheus extends an arm and you grab on with hesitancy. It was just the two of you now, walking across the venue in the aftermath of what was supposed to be a romantic dream. The candles still glowed and draped everything in a soft glow, plates and glasses were empty with crumbs left in its place, messy napkins and a few stolen centerpieces. Everything to state that the wedding was a success.

You should feel proud, excited, anything positive in this moment! You should be brimming over the top with happiness, it is your wedding day, after all. Instead, all that is left is the nauseating feeling of betrayal that you didn’t feel like you had the right to experience.

When the doors open and you step out into the night air, cheer erupts and the sound of glittering stardust falls from the hands of friends, family, and the court. The particles stick to every surface of your body, making your hair, skin, and clothes shimmer with every movement. Fireworks soon join in on the celebration and the cheers grow louder. Easily impressed, a smile breaks out on your face once again that evening as you watch the flashing of colorful lights above you. If you cannot find happiness, then you shall borrow it from the people around you until you can. Tonight, you shall bask in the moonlight of the abundant joy around you, the sound of applause and fireworks too loud for you to remember why you were so melancholy in the first place.

Even with the uneasy conversation Morpheus shared earlier with Calliope, his breath was taken away as he looked at you entering the carriage. You looked like the very night sky, like a star or angel fallen from heaven itself. You looked like the Goddess Venus reborn. When you smile at him from the seat above, even he can’t deny your beauty.

But.

He stops himself again. Right, this isn’t him thinking that you’re beautiful and perfect. It’s because the Gods created you for him specifically. He didn’t get a choice in choosing you. He doesn’t love you. His sentiments drop quickly and he joins you in the carriage quietly. He watches carefully as you lean out of the carriage window as your mother comes up to you. She whispers something into your ear, your smile faltering slightly as you sit back down.

The rest of the carriage ride was stewed in yet another awkward silence. The booming sound of fireworks slowly faded as the two of you rode further from the wedding venue. Now only the sound of horse hooves accompanied you in the confining box. You peek again at Morpheus, but he seemed content with looking out the window. The moonlight that sneaks in through the window curtain helps highlight his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. He looked as eternal as he presented himself. It drives a further wedge between the two of you, his status seemingly too far for you to reach.

The ride to the palace was shorter than you expected and the carriage soon came to a halt. Morpheus leaves first then helps you down with a steady hand. Your attention is completely immersed in the grandeur of the palace. Large, lifelike statues decorate every wall, surrounded by balconies of ivory and stone. Its dome-like structure covered in glass and bronze made your jaw slack in shock. You’ve seen the castle from a distance all the time from your own estate, but seeing it as you walk up the staircase was a different experience altogether.

A dragon perches right before the door moves and glares at you with a small roar making you jump in your skin. Morpheus places a small hand on the small of your back, ushering you into the castle without much of a blink of his eyes.

“Don’t mind her, she simply likes to mess with the people that come through,” He comments.

You don’t bother with a response as you continue to look at the dragon. Walking further up the stairs, the doors open on their own and you’re greeted with grand chandeliers and a large red carpet that runs all the way down the hall before splitting into two separate wings. Arches accompany the high ceilings and walls and made for easy and pleasurable viewing. But the viewing was cut short as almost immediately maids in matching uniforms curtsied in front of you.

You didn’t get a word out before they started ushering you away into the east wing. Similarly, Morpheus was rushed into the west wing, though he didn’t seem to make much of a fuss either. It was eerily quiet, not even footsteps were heard over the plush carpet. It doesn’t take long for you to arrive at what you presumed to be your room. The idea only solidified with the grand review of a large bedroom, and your previously packed items already put away.

“Your Majesty, I am your Lady’s Maid. Please, we are already running behind.” A woman of your age says with a curtsy.

Her outfit fit the similar midnight blue and silver of the royal court, but certainly held more detail in the fabrics. She also held herself with a higher esteem than that of the other lesser maids that escorted you here. You’re ushered to a vanity as women flutter around you once again. They don’t falter even when you try to show your displeasement as they stripped you of your wedding gown and under garments.

You Lady’s Maid watches from a distance, delegating tasks to her subordinates as they prep you for the night. They have you step into a simple silk dress. It’s thin and doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. When you go to open your mouth again at the choice, your Lady’s Maid simply raises her hand with a shake of her head. The words quickly die in your throat. Lastly, your hair is pulled from it’s formal updo and left as it naturally is, a few stray pieces of stardust falling to the ground as they do so.

“No, keep the stardust on her skin. It matches her complexion well.” The Lady’s Maid says before another could wipe it away with a wet cloth. Like that, you were ready to be presented to the king once more. The rest of the maids leave the room quickly, all commotion taken with them.

Your Lady’s Maid is the last to leave, giving you one last look over before heading out. Before she does, you stop with a simple question. “What is your name?”

“Agnes, Your Grace,” She answers truthfully.

“Thank you, Agnes.”

She nods, gives a final curtsy, and leaves.

You stay in the silent room for a few more minutes, enjoying the moment to yourself. When you were ready, you peek your head out the door and relief floods over you as no one was in sight. With another look to the other side of the hallway, you leave the comforts of your room. Down the grand stairs once again and up the stairs to the west wing.

You were right to assume that the west wing mimicked the east and found a door similar in decoration to your room. No one was around this hallway either, so it wouldn’t hurt if you found yourself in the wrong room anyways. Well, except maybe your own pride.

You knock twice, and with shaky hands open the door. There was barely any light coming from the room, and before you committed to it, you peaked in with your head. It certainly looked like Morpheus’s chamber, the only issue is that the person who owned it was not in there. With one last look outside, you walk into the darkness of the room.

Timidly, you stand by the door, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. A door opens from within the room, and Morpheus emerges from a connected suite. He pauses for a moment when he sees you standing there, but regains formality soon after. Without words, he takes his jacket off, tossing it to the side on a nearby chair that sat in front of a fireplace.

A blush creeps up your cheeks as he walks closer to you still, and the blush continues to grow down your neck as his hands caress over your face. His touch was gentle but it didn’t stop the way your heart jumped around erratically in your chest. Your mother’s words echo in your mind as he turns away and sits down on his bed.

“Make him happy,” It said.

With a deep breath to squash the last of your nerves, you sit next to him. Your uneasiness is still within you, enough to keep you from looking at him outright.

“Lay down,” He says with a sigh and you do.

The pillows are softer than the ones you had on your old bed, but the actions that you are about to perform seem to make it futile. As if the pillow was holding your hand gently as he crawls over your shaking body.

When he comes face to face with you, your eyes look into his eyes for a moment, but the coldness you find in there chases you away. You turn your face.

Gods, please let this be over quickly. You prayed silently in your head.

A cold hand cups your cheek and you flinch from the touch. Your fingers dig into the satin sheets below so that you could ground yourself in something else. Your heart is beating loud enough you could feel the pulses in your head and the ravaging drumming in your ears.

“Make him happy,” You hear your mothers words in your head again and a lone tear escapes you.

Morpheus notices, the moonlight highlighting the liquid as it slides down your cheek and he pulls away. He would have consummated this marriage as it was his duty. But seeing you now, trembling like a scared animal beneath him, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Do you wish to be touched?” He asks. He pulls his hands away and sits back up, unstraddling your legs as he returns to where he was before the two of you laid down.

Your eyes snap open at his question. It was simply something you didn’t expect him to ask. Slowly, you too sit up and see him looking at you with near teary eyes. You stay quiet as you battle yourself for answering his question. Your mother’s presence is strong, even when she miles away.

“Answer truthfully,” He says again and he faces you head on as he says so. A finger of his twitches on his leg as he rests them there, but he restrains from touching you.

In the company of moonlight and the bare witness of the King, you do as you’re told and answer him truthfully.

“No,” You whisper plainly. You’re playing with the edges of your nightgown, rolling the fabric in on itself as you speak.

Morpheus’ eyes soften at your answer. Content even as you found the will to speak to him without the fear of being reprimanded by your King. It is just as he always wanted since you first spoke with him during the reception.

“Very well, then we shall not consummate tonight.” He stands and your eyes follow him as he walks away from the bed.

“Is it not our responsibility to do so?” You ask timidly. You feel the pain of something lodged in your throat as more tears threaten to spill. You were already a disappointment and the day wasn’t even over yet.

“I will not take you, or anyone, against their will. I am no monster.”

His outright truth snaps your head towards his, only his outline visible in the low-light atmosphere of his room.

“And,” He continues. “I will not take you until you are ready to do so. Have a good night, my lady.” A curt bow of his head and he leaves the same way you entered.

Sorry I've been gone for so long you guys! Final season is upon us and I feel that gap where there is no inspiration to write anything also taking over me... Oh well, it's not the end of the world :)

In the meantime, I'm going to be rearranging my main masterlist so it's easier to navigate

Thank you, as always, for your amazing support!

Until the next time my loves

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #destined dreams of love

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 6 months

Text

bolognese for the heart | chef!bob x oc

Summary: chef!Bob making something with the pumpkin guts/seeds while OC sits nearby carving the freshly cleaned-out pumpkin. (wc: 458)

Requested: YES by @a-reader-and-a-writer

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, knife mention, an entire backstory that i have yet to write (whoops)

✎……MAIN MASTERLIST || FALLTOBER MASTERLIST

“Mm, the guts’re all yours, chef,” Georgia said as she slid over the bowl, a grimace on her lips and the last remaining strings of pumpkin insides dangling from her fingers. “Hated that.”

“I appreciate your sacrifice,” Bob chuckled as he kissed her cheek.

She wiped her hands on a towel. “Mm, you better.”

“So will you, once I get these guys toasted and seasoned.”

Bob took the bowl of guts over to the sink and began to pick out the seeds. Extracting them from the stringy insides and washing them off one by one. Once cleaned to his liking, he laid each of them out gently on a paper towel to dry. Georgia smiled as she watched him for a moment. Even after all this time, she could still watch him cook anything and be absolutely enthralled. Especially with the sleeves of his button up rolled up like that and his apron tied around his waist.

“What’re ya gonna carve?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at her with a grin.

“Um —” Georgia turned back to the hollowed out pumpkin, staring up at her blank faced. “I don’t know. My family always painted pumpkins at Halloween.”

“Really? Why?”

“Less messy, more fun — less dangerous,” she said, picking up the paring knife she would use to carve warily.

Bob chuckled. “Guess that makes sense. You want help?”

He looked ready to stop everything to come back over and help her carve the pumpkin. Eyebrows raised and lips pursed, fingers third knuckle deep in pumpkin guts. Georgia shook her head with a smile.

“No, I got it. I wanna try your…The uh…”

“Sweet curry pepitas,” he filled in for her.

“Yeah, those — as soon as possible,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

So they carved and cleaned pumpkin seeds quietly. A record playing from the other room and glasses of wine poured once Bob had seasoned the pepitas and put them in the oven to toast. He hummed quietly in her ear as he wrapped his arms around Georgia’s waist. Head rested comfortably on her shoulder as he watched her carve. She knew it was a little messy, but she was trying her best while also attempting to not cut herself. Bob just laughed lightly as she poked out the mouth, wide smiling and goofy — matched with a small pair of round eyes.

“He’s a very happy jack-o-lantern,” he chuckled, giving her waist a squeeze.

Their little country cottage filled with the smells of curry spices and brown sugar as they put in the electric tea candle and set the pumpkin up in the window. Even though they would be the only ones who would see it.

Just a small reminder of the perfect October night, and a bit of home.

i no longer have a taglist, please follow @anniesocsandlibrary and turn on notifications for updates

#oc: georgia fields #fic: bolognese for the heart #fd: tgm #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x oc #bob floyd x oc #chef!bob #top gun maverick #tgm #tgm au #ocapp #lewis pullman #bob floyd x georgia fields #tgm imagine #tgm fic #falltober23

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bakugotrashpanda · 2 years

Text

Bargaining (18+)

Dabi x F!Reader

Treasure Planet AU Word Count: 5433

!!: sex, tiny bit of knife and blood

A/N: This is a part of @thegetoufather‘s Into the Movieverse Collab!

Worn bricks, grimy from centuries of use, are covered with people. Some, down on their luck, looking to work their way from one port to the next. Others call this part of town home. Red brick buildings with wooden upper stories - storefronts with the family who owns them living up above. Sailors in smart uniforms walk off their ships and towards the bustle of the city beyond the edge of the docks. Passengers disembark various ships, some have servants toting their luggage, others carry nothing more than the bags on their backs.

From your perch on the TSS Legacy you observe the comings and goings. Your own ship, second hand twice over, has seen better days. But the wood and brass still gleam in the sunlight. Your own crew is a sight for sore eyes, but you were short on time to muster together enough people to fly off before midday. Favors were called in, and now you have a functioning ship and crew albeit with questionable reputations.

Right now you need quantity over quality. All they need to know is that your trip is a research expedition of sorts, and nothing more.

A swath of green catches your attention. A green haired boy and an older blond man stop in the middle of the flow of foot traffic and look around. No one stops down there if they can help it with all the bustle and smells, so they must be your patrons.

Descending from the poop deck to the captain’s quarters quickly, you find your First Officer leaning against your door with a coat draped over his arm. Windblown blond hair free of its pompous uniform regulation hat stands on end. He’d need to take care of that before addressing the crew.

“Mr. Hawks,” you nod and pull on the dark blue overcoat he holds out to you. Your first officer smirks, knowing how much you dislike the formalities and hierarchies in the sailing world. “Do you have something to say?”

Golden eyes crinkle in amusement. “Not at all, Captain.”

“Then put your hat on.” You straighten your clothes and march towards the main deck. “We’ve got company.”

You watch the new duo board your ship and look around with awe. “Ah, Captain.” The older man holds out his hand, “I’m Professor Toshinori, and this is young Midoriya. Thank you for making it so we can leave as soon as possible.”

“Not a problem,” you nod. Behind him, the dock cranes load on the last of the provisions and your crew works on storing the boxes. “Once the final safety check is made, we’ll be off. I understand we’re heading towards the Beta Quadrant?”

“Ah, yes,” the man nods and starts fishing around in his pockets. “Young Midoriya foun-”

“Mr. Toshinori,” you interject and hold up a hand. The man stops digging through his pockets and stares at you. “I implore you to wait until we’ve had a chance to talk in my ready room. My Number One will take you there now. As for Midoriya,” you round on the young man at his side, “I’ll show him to his assignment.”

“Assignment?” both guests ask in unison.

“Yes,” you reply curtly, “We have no need for idle hands on this ship, and my cook could use an extra person. Nothing too dangerous of course.” Without waiting, you turn away from the group and head towards the kitchens. Quick footsteps falling in place behind you send a smile ghosting over your lips. This power is new to you: you walk and people follow. You give an order and it’s followed without hesitation.

Descending the rickety steps to the galley, you make a mental note to check it out when the journey is over. Perhaps after this gig is over, you’ll be able to buy a whole new ship and a reliable crew.

Thick smoke hangs around the kitchen and pours out into the dining area. Of course he pulls a stunt like this. Kicking in the door, you glare at your cook.

Tattoos wind up the arms and neck of a man with jet black hair. He hefts crates of food onto metal counters, the glow of a cigarette illuminating his face. Somehow the space is organized, but to you it looks like chaos.

“What did I say about smoking on my ship?” you hiss. Turquoise eyes cut over to you. The end of the cigarette glows brightly once more before a pile of ash falls off the end. And over a boiling pot on the stove. “Especially over the food?”

Locking eyes with you, the man takes one last drag and stubs it out on the counter. A stream of smoke cascades down a stained apron. “Yes, Captain.”

Clearing your throat, you paste a smile on your face. For as much pain as your cook has caused you, anticipation of seeing his face when he hears the news of his additional tasks will make it all the better for a moment. “Dabi, this is Midoriya,” you gesture to the green haired man behind you. “He’ll be under your care for the journey.”

Dabi’s eyebrow twitches. One hand ghosts over a pocket on his apron, no doubt where his cigarettes are. “And now I’m playing babysitter?”

“He’ll be helping with the cooking and cleaning,” you say. Strolling around the kitchen, you note the pile of pots, pans, and knives already sitting dirty in the sink. “As I recall, you make quite a mess wherever you go.” You shoot him a knowing look.

It takes a minute, but he sighs before finally responding. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

“Midoriya,” you turn to your guest and try to give him a genuine smile. “We’ll be taking off soon, I suggest making your way up top. It’s quite a different experience than traveling by shuttle to and from the planet.” Green eyes widen in delight and he scampers off. You were like that once too; fresh off the shuttle and full of excitement for adventures to come.

Silence descends in the kitchen once Midoriya is gone. You could leave too. You should. There’s a whole ship that needs your attention, not to mention a professor you need to talk to.

But you lean against a metal counter and cross your arms. “You’re here.”

Dabi goes back to unpacking the crates in front of him. “I am.”

“Didn’t think you’d show.”

“Is there anything else you need, Captain?” So much hatred packed into your title.

“How long are you going to hold that grudge against me?” you hiss.

“I’m just a lowly cook aboard your ship,” he sneers.

Stalking over to him, you put your arm on top of the crate to grab his attention. “I gave you a chance to come with me.”

Dabi looks at you through long lashes. “Permission to speak freely?” It doesn’t matter what you say, he’ll let you know what’s on his mind – insubordination be damned.

“Granted.”

Dabi wipes his hands on the off-white apron and gestures to you. “Look at you. You wear their uniform. You sail under their flag. You decided to bow and lick the boots that stomped on us.”

You lean in, channeling as much of a haughty captain as you can. “And If I tell you to lick my boot?”

“Whatever you want,” he grits out, “Captain.”

Straightening up, you hold your head high. If he thinks that you abandoned your previous life, might as well give him what he wants. “Keep an eye on the boy,” you order. “The professor’s son will stay out of trouble.”

Dabi mockingly salutes you as you leave the kitchen. “Aye.”

Will he be a thorn in your side the whole journey? Undoubtedly. But will your history together affect how you deal with him? … Only time will tell.

The heavy wood door to your ready room opens soundlessly. The professor and your First Officer are seated at a round table off to the side. They stand as you enter and wait for you to begin the secretive meeting.

“I’ve put the boy to work in the kitchen. He’ll be out of the way there,” you say matter-of-factly and shed your heavy coat. “Now, Professor, tell me about this map of yours.”

The whole reason for this hurried trip; a historian running after a fabled treasure. As long as they pay, you’ll take them to whatever godforsaken planet they want. It makes a quick buck for you and keeps you out of reach of the solar navy fleet for that much longer.

“Midoriya found it,” the lanky man says. He pulls out a gold ball and places it on your desk. Intrigued, you pick it up and fidget with it. The various lines and indentations on the surface whirl beneath your fingertips. Somehow, this small orb will lead you to the treasure, and a handsome cut for both you and the crew once it’s been returned and appraised. “It details the lost treasure of Abaddon. We know for certain it’s on Regula but its final resting place is still somewhere in here. Midoriya can show you how to open it.”

Still spinning the many planes of the supposed map, you address your First Officer. “Mr. Hawks, you have a keen eye. Once we set sail, see what you can decipher with the boy’s help.”

“Aye, Captain,” Hawks nods. Turning to the professor, he gestures to the door. “I’ll show you to your quarters now.”

You’re left alone with the puzzle. Would this amount to anything this time around? How many times had you returned to port with a dejected fortune seeker. Your pockets would be lined no matter what.

Staring at the oil painting of space hanging across from your desk you run your fingers along the frame before pulling it back. To the untrained eye, it just looks like a normal, unfaded wall behind it, but pushing slightly, you pop off a wooden panel. A small lock box sits in a hidden alcove. Taking the box out, you feel along the seam of the alcove until your finger hits a divot. Another hidden door pops open, and you tuck the orb in there.

The door to your ready room opens again, and Hawks walks in exhaling deeply.

“I’ve tasked you with a lot,” you say and replace the small lock box in the hidden cabinet. “But I have one more job for you.”

“And what’s that, Captain?” Hawks asks tiredly. He hangs his hat on a peg on the wall. Running a hand through his hair, he checks his reflection for his signature ‘effortless disheveled look’ as he likes to call it.

“What did I say about calling my Captain when it’s just the two of us,” you scowl. He shoots you a cheeky grin but says nothing. “Keep an eye on the boy and the cook. I’m hoping they can keep each other busy enough to stay out of trouble.”

All playfulness leaves his face. He resembles the older men in the service rather than the charming gentleman he can be during his personal leave; stoic, face weathered from years of sailing close to suns. “Is he…?”

You close the faux paneling with a satisfying click. Gears whir gently while the locking mechanism sets up again. “After our last fiasco, we have a full crew thanks to Dabi. But that doesn’t mean their loyalty is with me.”

Hawks nods. “As you wish.”

Is there anything he wouldn’t do for you? You could probably tell him you want the solar sails dyed green and he’d make it happen. “Where would I be without you?” you laugh gently.

“Stuck on a rock somewhere with no ship and no promotion.”

Your favorite part of sailing changes every time you leave port. Sometimes it’s watching the solar sails unfurl and reflect the light before takeoff. Other times it’s the momentary weightlessness before the antigravity system kicks in. More often than not it’s flying alongside the migratory space life and watching them play with the stars.

This trip proves no different. Immediately, you’re joined by a pod of gormaganders – a formerly endangered ‘space whale’ that sails the stars with its multitude of fins. They sail silently alongside the ship, no doubt following a stream of particles ejected from dying suns. Their bodies are twice as long as your ship, but these gentle giants mean no harm.

You travel amongst them for three days before departing from their pod and head deeper into space. There’s a solemn silence as you and the crew watch them depart. They were your travel companions, but now you’re on your own. The inky black space around the ship seems that much more terrifying.

Even though there’s no physical markers signifying where the Alpha Quadrant stops and the Beta Quadrant starts, there’s a feeling aboard the ship that stirs unease within you. The crew is antsy knowing the destination is upon them. Hawks has everyone double checking their work as a way to burn off excess energy, but it doesn’t put you at ease.

If there is one thing you can count on during your trip, it’s that Midoriya keeps Dabi on his toes with his natural curiosity. More often than not your chef tries to hand off cleaning tasks only to have the young man talk his ear off or stray from the task at hand. It gives you a small surge of satisfaction to watch Dabi tamp down his irritation with the boy and chase him all over the ship.

It takes another week and a half before Regula is visible to the naked eye. The closer you get, the more enthralled your guests are; the Professor spends most of his time scribbling in notebooks while studying the planet through a looking glass. Midoriya spends what little free time he has on the deck staring out into space and avoiding your cook’s grating call. You feel a modicum of pity for the men. There are faster ships out there, ones that don’t sail on and store solar energy. Ships that could’ve arrived at the planet at three times the speed you did. But that costs money and they don’t accept payments of maybe-promises of treasure at the end.

The semi-barren rock doesn’t look like much – the only thing going for it, if it is in fact a treasure trove, is that there’s no visible signs of sentient life. Part of the planet is covered in greenery while the rest is a muddy gray, as if someone started terraforming it to be hospitable, but quickly gave up.

Accompanied by two of your crew that you managed to hold on to when your ship docked after your last mission, the Professor and Midoriya headed down to the planet’s surface. For anyone outside of the need-to-know circle, it’s a research trip to investigate claims that there was once life on the planet.

Not the worst cover story you’ve come up with.

Everything seems to settle. There’s plenty for the crew to do now with offloading gear and survey equipment. And for a moment, you think everything might go off without a hitch.

And then on the third day, you find yourself and all your belongings floating towards the ceiling. Spheres of liquid hang in the air, their empty cups floating beside them. Pens. Papers. Books. Everything. Clinging to the table bolted to the floor of your ready room, you grab your communicator out of your pocket.

“Engineering, what's going on?!” you shout into it. When there’s no reply you try again. “Engineering, do you read me?” Still nothing. Shit. You’ve got to fix this, and fast. Pulling yourself over to your desk, you take out a pair of gravity boots – heavy duty shoe covers that will stick to any surface. Hopefully Hawks has already raised the alarm and the rest of the crew has tethered themselves before going after supplies floating away.

Making your way down the corridor adjacent to your quarters, you take a back entrance to engineering. You clang your way across the metal flooring, your shoes the only thing keeping you from flying into the ceiling – or worse. Your keys attempt to float off as you flip through the lot of them to find the one that’ll give you access to all the wires and systems hidden behind a metal door. Once inside, you throw open a panel and see a couple jacks hanging freely. Frowning, you plug them back in. It takes a moment for the systems to reboot, but the unsettling weightlessness in your body is replaced with an overall unease.

Those wires shouldn’t have been able to wiggle free, and there are redundant systems in place to prevent a total meltdown of the ship’s core life support functions.

Something thin, cold, and metal presses against the back of your neck.

“Funny thing, that boy,” a rough voice says. Heavy footsteps come from behind the open door. Dabi. “See he talks. A lot. And he talked about how his dad walked out on him and his mom. Only met the professor a few short weeks ago.” You lean back and feel the object at your neck bit into your skin.

Okay. A knife. Not a gun. A knife is easier to deal with. It won’t accidentally go off.

Dabi keeps talking. “At first I wanted to strangle him with how much he talked, but then he started spillin’ secrets. I know about the map an’ I know about the treasure.” He presses the knife deeper into your skin. A trickle of warm liquid runs down the back of your neck. “Hand it over.”

“It’s in my ready room,” you try to subtly lean away. “You and me. No one else.”

A throaty chuckle fills the room. “I don’t think so, Captain. One of my men will come with us. Just in case.”

“Have it your way.” There’s no need to provoke him at this point.

The flat side of the blade taps the side of your neck. Time to go. Slipping your feet out of the heavy, and now unnecessary, shoes, you and Dabi ascend towards the deck.

The only way you could describe the scene up top is chaos. Utter chaos. The crew – let’s face it, at this point they’re no longer your crew – are rambunctious, laughing and hollering like kids playing in a schoolyard. Red dust and smoke hang in the air, no doubt from a flare going off. Some notice you being led at knife point and cheer. Others are too caught up in the revelry to notice their surroundings. The few men loyal to you are tied to the main mast, struggling to be free of their confines. Another set of footsteps falls in line with you and Dabi.

You open the door to your ready room and find Hawks already there. His stance is wide, ready to give or take a hit. Judging by the blood hidden on his red coat and the bruises littering his cheek and jaw, he’s given and gotten plenty of action.

You give a small twitch of your head to get him to back down. Not yet.

Dabi heads to the table where you and Hawks would normally eat meals and navigate. With a nod, he gestures for you to sit with him. Reluctantly, you do.

“C’mon, Captain,” Dabi drawls, “Is it really necessary to have your underling here?” He dismissively gestures to your right-hand man who bristles. You watch the corner of his lip curl up in satisfaction, his tattoos following the movement and contorting with him.

“And I suppose you need your man?” you relax in your chair and cross your arms. “Get rid of yours and mine will leave too.” Without hesitation, Dabi jerks his head. Funny. He was so insistent that he have someone else here with him. The silent man at his side heads to the door without protest.

Hawks looks over at you. Holding his golden gaze, you nod. “But,” you say as he turns on his heels. “I don’t want bloodshed on deck. It’s a pain to get out of the wood.” Your gaze drifts over to Dabi who rolls his eyes but nods. His man at the door acknowledges him and walks out. Hawks follows after.

“Now it’s just us,” you smile at Dabi. It’s not a sweet smile, it’s the smile a predator gives its prey when it’s cornered. “You were loyal, so what happened?” Syrupy sweet mockery drips off your words.

Dabi leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You didn’t think large enough.” A tattooed finger taps his temple.

“And you’re ‘large enough’?” you scoff.

“You wound me, Captain,” Dabi holds his hand against his chest – where a heart would be if he had one. “You used to be one of us, selling out to the highest bidder, and now look at you. Captain. With your self-righteous dogs who trip over their own feet to follow your every word.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘loyalty’, something you know nothing about.”

“I’m loyal to money.” Dabi leans back in his chair and spreads his arms. Some stupid attempt to get you to believe that he’s vulnerable and in fact telling the truth.

You were once one of them. Someone who pushed a bucket and a mop around cleaning up after people who made your life miserable. Always ready to abandon ship at port in search of the next great adventure. And then you had to go and grow a heart, saving some higher up who repaid you handsomely with a career – a future where you didn’t have to pinch pennies and shovel shit.

And you took it. Built a name for yourself. Got your own ship, your own crew. Sort of.

“And you think that mutiny will get you money?” you raise an eyebrow.

Eyes bluer than the stars you sail darken. “I know that map will set me up well.” Dabi sneers. “Never need to answer to anyone again.” He stands abruptly and stomps over to you. Intimidation. You wouldn’t have your post if a man stomping his feet sent fear through your body.

Your eyelashes flutter as you take stock of him. “Why Dabi,” you purr, “Did you think I’d be quaking in my boots and just give you the map?” He looms over you and bends at the waist. A soft whisper has the hair on the back of your neck standing at attention.

“I can offer you something… more.” A hand trails down your side, ghosting over your breast before settling on top of your thigh.

“You think that finger fucking me will get me to hand it over?” Cute. You aren’t the young deckhand enamored with the mysterious pirate anymore.

“I’ll do more than finger fuck you,” he purrs. “I’ll have you begging for me, and if I can do that, the map is mine.” Interesting. It’s an unorthodox approach for sure, and it’s not like he would be successful. “C’mon, Captain,” he coos, his thumb casually stroking the apex of your thighs. “What d’ya say? A little friendly wager?”

“There’s nothing friendly about this.” You uncross your arms and wrap them around his neck. Your lips are on his, sealing the deal. Teasing the edge of his lips with your tongue, he obliges you and deepens the kiss. Quickly, you become a tangle of bodies. He lifts you, and with your legs around his waist, you soon find the smooth wood of your desk at your back.

Hot lips trail down your neck, stopping occasionally to leave a bold nip. You arch into him and give him all the access he could want. Teeth graze your skin and he latches on. You pull him closer. A small part of you wants a small souvenir of this moment – something you can look back on and gloat about.

Dabi’s fingers make quick work of your trousers. Warm hands save you from the cold surface, and your thighs find themselves wrapped around his head.

Dabi’s explosive and quick, diving in without hesitation. Your fingers tangle in his hair both to push him away and pull him closer; it’s too much and not enough all at once. It’s clear he knows what he’s doing, and with every swipe of his tongue against your clit, you’re seeing stars not charted on your maps.

Wanton moans fill the room, and you’re thankful that your First Officer is above deck with the rest of your crew.

“D-” you start and quickly shut your mouth. I’ll have you begging for me. He’s going to go after you with all he’s got, and as much as you want to moan his name, he might see that as a victory. A warm piercing nudges your sensitive folds, but you keep tight lipped.

You nearly cry out as cold replaces the warm face you were wrapped around.

Dabi smirks and fiddles with his belt. The large brass buckle gleaming in the low light of your ready room. “Tongue not enough for ya?”

“If I was looking to be eaten out, I could go into any port and be helped,” you pant. “If that’s all you’ve got-”

“Not even close,” he chuckles. Metal collides with the floor and you look up from your spot on your desk. Dabi gives his cock a couple of tugs before running the head through a concoction of your slick and his spit. More piercings rub against your sensitive flesh. Just how many had he gotten since he’d last seen you?

“About time,” you smirk.

“Aw,” Dabi says with mock sympathy, “Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” He prods at your entrance but doesn’t push beyond that.

“If you’re going to fuck me, then I expec-” A gasp steals the rest of your thought. Dabi pushes into you but keeps it at just the tip. Your lower lip runs between your teeth. He stretches you just right with enough pain to mingle with the pleasure. You won’t admit it out loud, but it’s been a while since you’ve had company.

“You were saying?”

“I saw those shiny new piercings,” you huff, “Am I going to be your only conquest that doesn’t get to feel them??”

Dabi’s hips rock slowly, the movement bringing him closer to you. You greedily swallow him deeper with every movement. The piercings slide inside of you, adding a slight pressure inside that you wouldn’t normally experience. If you could, you’d have him lazily fuck into you for an hour just to feel it.

Dabi chuckles above you. “I get a new piercing for every ship I rob.” Another short, teasing thrust has your wrapping your legs around his waist. You want him all. Now. “Can’t wait to get another when I’m done here.”

He finally bottoms out, his cock filling you completely. You squeeze around his length. A sharp hiss fills the room. Dabi’s nails grab your thighs, leaving halfmoon indents. You wiggle your hips and watch him hang onto a thread of composure.

“Fuckin’ brat.” Dabi’s eyes smolder with lust. He hooks his hands underneath your knees and presses them back against your chest as far as they’ll go.

“Look at you.” He gives a shallow thrust and grins. “So fuckin’ greedy. So needy. You’re so fuckin’ wet for me.”

Dabi must not’ve liked the huff of annoyance you made. He gives a sharp thrust, the head of his cock kissing the tip of your cervix. Your knees find their way to his shoulders and he sets a harsh pace. And while his words may be crude, he makes up for it in other ways – namely his thumb circling your clit.

You can feel it building deep inside you; it starts with the tingling in your fingers, the random bolts of electricity ricocheting around your body. Your breath becomes more ragged, heat rises to your cheeks. It builds – a small warmth that turns into a roaring fire, energy that begs for a way out.

“Dabi,” you moan breathlessly. Your words are borderline begging. “I-I’m gonna, I’m-”

“Do it,” Dabi growls, his hips pistoning against yours. “Come for me. Come on my cock.” Your cries fill the room and soon you’re chanting Dabi’s name. A prayer perhaps that this won’t end.

But with a final thrust, you can feel the throbbing inside your cunt. Dabi stills, flush against you, his head tilted skyward — caught in his own bliss. In all the time you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him this at peace. You relax on your desk, knowing what comes next.

Emptiness.

Dabi pulls out and his warm touch turns into strings of cum, chilled as it touches the air, seeping out of you. And the fucker won’t even help clean up.

“Well, Captain,” Dabi drawls and tucks himself back in his pants, “it’s been fun, but a deal’s a deal.”

Tattooed fingers wrap around a gold orb beside you on your desk. You could stop him — wrap your fingers around him and counter negotiate. Perhaps return the favor and bring him to his knees while you suck him off? Maybe switch spots and ride him until he sees the stars you navigate.

But in your post climax haze, you can’t move. You can barely think straight.

“Dabi…” You try to catch your breath.

Dabi adjusts his belt buckle with a smirk. “At ease, Captain.”

The door clicks shut and you’re alone again. You stay supine on your desk until the raucous cheer dies down. They’re gone.

Smoothing your hair back, you find your pants and straighten your outfit. You’ve had your clothes on for all of five seconds when the door bursts open.

“Captain!” Hawks shouts.

“Mr. Hawks,” you reply curtly and stride over to the mirror.

“That bastard left with half the crew and the escape pods.” Hawks relays. “What offer could he have made-”

“Nothing,” you check out your appearance and your first mate in the reflection. Only a small bruise peaks above your collar. Nothing you can’t hide. “Untie the men on the main mast and prepare to take off. We leave once the Professor and Midoriya are back.”

“Captain?” Confusion pushes Hawks’ brows together.

“He’s on a fool’s errand.” You brush past him and head topside. Hawks follows closely behind you. “He’ll find nothing but disappointment and an angry crew that’ll destroy him the first chance they get.” You smirk at the thought. What’s the old saying? There’s no honor among thieves? “I saw the remnants of your flair. With enough luck we’ll be long gone by then.”

When your First Officer doesn’t respond, you lean in close and whisper in his ear. “You don’t think I’d bring the real map to those negotiations, do you?”

– Two Months Later –

You slam your tankard down on the worn table. Roaring laughter around you fuels your theatrics as you recount your harrowing escape from a dubious crew.

“And then,” You pick a coin up off the table and perform the oldest magic trick in the book and make the coin disappear and reappear from behind the ear of your first officer who bemusedly listens to your tall tale. “With a bit of sleight of hand, I managed to talk him down and save the map.”

Hawks stifles his laughter and takes a long drink. Eventually you had to tell him what happened – as if the stench of sex in your ready room didn’t give you away. But he lets you have your moment among colleagues.

The next captain at the table starts his story of encountering pirates in another quadrant and all attention falls from you.

“Sleight of hand, eh?” a voice says behind you. Turning, you see the last man you ever expected to see in port again. Somehow, Dabi stands in the middle of the tavern in a freshly pressed blue overcoat. A single stripe on his shoulder denotes his rank. A badge of honor for some, a mark of shame for those who spend their whole lives trying to outrun and undermine it.

“Dabi,” you coo, “I never thought I’d see your ugly mug again.”

“What can I say, I’m not easy to get rid of.”

“And the new uniform,” you say, sliding a hand down the lapel of his coat to rest on his chest.

“The downfall of my… rescue negotiations.”

“And in the end you gave in like the rest of us,” you laugh knowing all too well that a life serving and sailing the stars is better than being grounded on a floating rock rotting in a prison. “What’re your orders?”

“I’m to report to the Captain of the TSS Legacy.” Turquoise eyes flick to you. “Something about her being the only one that can handle me.”

#dabi #dabi x reader #intothemovieverse #collab

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 month

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i love my coffee strong enough to kill a horse. it gets my heart going almost as much as the cutie who can make it 😘 (lmao jk...unless?? i'm not trying to be creepy i swear i'm just platonically in love). I used to get a cup of espresso and separately a cup of foamy milk with a shitload of syrups, so basically build your own latte

Also! That coffee shop AU - Valid. No notes. Let me present to you, as a reformed line cook, Kitchen AU:

Simon is the line cook. There is no question about it. No nonsence, gets shit done, can do basically everything that kitchen needs, good under pressure. Will murder you if you're being a daft cunt. What constitutes as 'being a daft cunt'? Changes drastically depending on amount of tickets. Fucking with his staff is a sure fire way tho. Just try to harass the waitress, pal, he will come out of the kitchen with a knife. The common one, not his personal, of course, that shit's expensive and almost a family member at this point. Surpisingly haven't been in jail. Yet. Doesn't drink energy drinks, weirdo.

Johnny? Dishie. Not nessessarily because he lacks qualifications, but (almost) every good cook starts as a dishie or prep. Batshit fucking insane, works shirtless with waterproof apron. Beloved by everyone, if kitchen fucked up and made an extra of something, it will most likely go to either the waitress that the cook got hots for, or him. On probation, will brag about it. Eats and smokes in one go, doesn't care that his food tastes like ash. Chugs that redbull like he's paid for it, is partially correct. Has been seen to just devour a loaf of bread, when questioned, called it his lunch.

Pretty boy Kyle? Hot kitchen, suprisingly. Man's damn good at his job and still got the stamina and passion for it. Hands are covered in burn and cut scar, some still fresh. Doesn't talk much, except with the waitresses, flirts shamelessly. The only person who can teach a newbie on which end one holds a knife, because chill vibes personified and probably won't scream at them lmao. If he had troubles with the law, it's probably MJ. Makes fucking unholy concoction with coffee from the bar and energy drink. Experiments with food at home constantly, loves eating bougie shit, but doesn't have a lot of time for it.

John Price? Not chef (idk how it's called in English, the main guy on the kitchen who does menues and shit), surprisingly, although almost there. Sous chef, most likely, because he has less paperwork and can be on the grounds and manage stuff more effectively. Takes desserts, at first just to fill in because they couldn't find a dessert cook, got used to it after a while, is predictably damn good. A literal God of machinery, shit seems to be afraid to break under his watch. Had problems with the law, but it's all in the past, nowadays he just 'knows a guy'. Doesn't fuck with energy drinks because he was chugging that shit when he was young and now got lowkey heart problems because of it. At home eats as simple as possible, sandwiches are his go-to, because his fuck rations about food are depleted at this point and he saves the reserves for work. Fucked up his taste buds with smoking habit, orders everyone to taste his dish if nessessary.

-🗞️

I'VE SEEN PEOPLE WRITE RESTAURANT AU HCs IN THE PAST (AND EVEN SOME LOVELY FANART BY @sleepyconfusedpotato look at it!!!!)

HOWEVER

I love your HC. I can just IMAGINE the vibes in that kitchen

And Soap shirtless, always covered in water???? MY GOD

ahhhhhhhhh

#asks #🗞️ anon #my anons are so talented

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suppernatural · 11 months

Text

Click recipe cards to enlarge.

Benny's Chicken Sausage Gumbo

I wanted to dedicate my first recipe post to my friend Benny who is from the Lafayette area and took the time to come over and teach me how to make chicken and sausage gumbo recently—which was a real labor of love, because gumbo is NOT quick or easy to make. But he's one of the coolest and nicest people I've ever met, and he loves to cook, and he wanted to make sure I had the good stuff, so he was happy to teach me... in fact, he said he'd be happy to come again and teach me some more Louisiana recipes in the future.

Now if you've ever had gumbo NOT in Louisiana, Benny says you may not have ever had a good gumbo, so don't judge gumbos as a whole based on that one gumbo you ate at some random restaurant once. Benny says the world is FULL of crap gumbos that just don't taste right, because it's very hard to get gumbo right! He also told me there are many variations on gumbo that are very normal even within Louisiana, and they are all delicious when they are done right, and this is just the kind he makes because of the area he was born. So if you want the good stuff, you just gotta go to the right place. The very best place to get gumbo, Benny says, is in a Louisianian's home... because then you know it's made with love, and is probably made by a recipe passed down through generations.

Now there are three main components to a chicken sausage gumbo the way Benny makes it:

The roux. This is the most time consuming and difficult part to get right but also the most important part and the part people are most likely to fuck up according to Benny.

The meat. Chicken and sausage. You wanna use chicken thighs if you can get 'em and andouille sausage if possible. However, many varieties of sausage are acceptable. Just be aware the sausage is part of what flavors your gumbo, so pick a good one!

What's referred to as the holy trinity in Louisiana cooking: yellow onions, green bell peppers, and celery. Garlic, Benny says, is also a given in ANY Louisiana dish (and luckily he isn't actually allergic though some people in his life might think that).

Here's all the supplies you're gonna need:

A big ass pot and a spoon and a ladle. Benny says gumbo takes forever, so if you're going to make it, you might as well make a shit ton of it so that either you can feed a whole bunch of people, or, because it'll freeze real well, you can do that.

A cast iron skillet or dutch oven and a whisk or a flat bottom wooden spoon. This is for making the roux.

A knife and cutting board for chopping all your shit up.

A strainer to strain your broth.

Ingredients List

1 cup oil

1 cup flour

4 lbs of chicken thighs

1 Ibs link sausage

3-4 bay leaves

several garlic cloves

large yellow onion, chopped (2 to 3 cups)

2 to 3 celery stalks, chopped

green bell pepper, chopped

2-3 Tbsp minced garlic

Salt to taste

black pepper to taste

red pepper to taste (or cajun seasoning)

Instructions:

First, the roux:

Whisk together the oil and flour in a cast iron skillet or dutch oven. Now, you wanna turn the heat on your burner to medium—never higher or lower than that! And then you just start stirring—and you keep stirring and stirring and stirring constantly... for like 30 minutes to an hour. You need that flat bottomed spoon (or your whisk works) so you can scrape the bottom and sides of the pot/skillet on repeat so nothing sticks and burns. You constantly gotta be scraping your roux off the bottom and sides of the pot. If you stop, the roux will BURN and you cannot let that happen or you have to start over, okay? You DO however, want it to get darker and darker. It'll start a milky white, and where you stop does depend on personal taste, but Benny says he considers his done when it's the color of a Hershey bar. Remember that your cast iron is going to stay hot after you turn the heat off, so turn the fire off a little before you think you should and continue to stir until your pot has cooled enough that it isn't cooking your roux anymore or you will STILL burn it! This is why this is the hardest part of making gumbo. The roux is easy to burn!

Second, the broth and the holy trinity:

Dump all your chicken in that big ass pot with about 12 cups of water, along with the bay leaves and some halved garlic cloves. Bring all of that to a boil, then turn down to low, cover, and let it simmer for about 30 minutes to an hour (until your chicken is boiled through). You will need to remove the fat that bubbles to the surface as you boil the chicken.

While that's going, dice up all your vegetables (onions, celery, green bell pepper, and MORE garlic—this time minced).

When your chicken is boiled through (but hopefully before it turns stringy—you don't want that!) remove it from your pot and set it aside somewhere, then pour your broth through a strainer to get rid of any more bits of skin or fat from the chicken. You wanna have about 12 cups of broth, so if you don't have enough, if you've gotta, you can add some chicken broth you have stored somewhere or from the store. Pour the broth back in your big pot and bring it to a boil, then dump all the vegetables you diced up in there (onion, celery, green bell pepper, garlic) AND the roux.

Turn the heat to low and let it all simmer for about an hour. While it's cooking in there, you add the sausage so it adds flavor, so...

Third, the meat:

Slice your sausage up into little… medallions? (You know what I'm talking about—how you usually cut link sausage) and cook it in a skillet just to brown it and remove some of the fat, then add it to the gumbo so it can add some more flavor to that simmering broth and roux. Continue to cook on low.

Now when your simmering time is over, you'll nearly be done, so when it's close to time, dice up your chicken into pieces (and debone of course if you used bone-in thighs). Kitchen shears are also good for this but a knife will also do you just fine.

Now add the salt, black pepper, and red pepper to taste (Benny was very generous—this ain't one of those "just a little salt" type deals). You can also put cajun seasoning in there. Add your chopped chicken into the pot and simmer for about 20 more minutes, and it'll be ready to serve.

Gumbo is best served with rice (I don't mean like a gravy type deal—this is a soup! But you often put rice in that soup!) and some french bread, which tastes fucking awesome dipped in that broth.

Gumbo freezes well, and you can also make a big batch of roux ahead and keep it in a jar in your fridge if you want, so it's possible to prep that ahead so you don't spend so long preparing it all in one day. Anyway, there you go! That’s Benny’s chicken and sausage gumbo!

#from the kitchen of benny lafitte

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theweirdestroller · 1 month

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Headcanons Pt 1 - Nightmare's Gang

'Aight, I'm bored, haven't posted in ages, I need to do something. While I have been mostly inactive in the UTMV fandom, I thought it'd be fun to post some of my more uncommon headcanons! And some pretty common ones too, I guess. Here we go! This is all for sympathetic everyone btw. No heartless Sanses here!

Horror:

The shortest Sans in Nightmare's Gang. I will start fighting people over this. He was starved for years and people make him so much larger than the rest of the gang! He is tiny and spindly and it takes time for him to even begin to spar with the others

Best cook, 10/10, knows all the recipes. He had to spice up the lot of nothing he and Papy had, so he knows how to make a little go a long way and taste good

Really good at taking care of plants and animals. Always seems to be in tune with what others need.

Has sharper senses than most Sanses, minus his eyesight, but not by much

So nearsighted he needs glasses, but would break or loose them if he got any. His eye is too damaged to try contacts, physical or magical

Would be the best around children. Just, so caring and attentive. Panics a bit if they cry though

Isn't too science minded. I'd say since his AU deviated from canon Undertale, he'd focus less on science and more on food

Hates fish. Partially to do with Undyne, partially because their scales and gills freak him out. Hates cooking with them too

Very cuddly, loves being around as many people as possible

Killer:

Gonna say this once and only once: Human Killer would be ginger.

He cannot cook. Don't let this man into the kitchen. Not only is he a pyromaniac with poor self-control, he also swims in chaos and could not care less about the well-being of others

Has ADHD. Can't stand still for two seconds. Whenever Nightmare's lecturing or talking or something, he's always pacing around. Listening, but moving

Absolutely a cat person, but only has a single black cat and she's missing an eye

Is a flirt but terrified of romance. Hates it, can't stand it. Don't speak to my man about love. Personally, I think he's aroace, but flirts for fun

He can use knives as weapons but not for much else. Can't cut food, not very good at whittling, don't even get me started on peeling vegetables

Surprisingly, he is good at using knife-adjacent things, mostly tools that are basically just knives

I like people who headcanon him as a carver, because he totally would be. But I think his main medium for art would be clay. He has a potters wheel that he doesn't use too often as he likes sculpting without it

Dust:

Continuing on with the MTT, Dust can cook soup. He can make more, doesn't like to, don't ask him to

The most scientifically minded of Nightmare's Gang, he makes a lot of their chemical based weapons, smoke bombs, acids, and the like

His vision gets fuzzy during fights due to his magic, and nobody knows how to help. He's learned to fight with it, but it is a bit risky

Out of everyone in the gang, he gets overstimulated the easiest

He was the first of Nightmare's Gang. Then Killer, Horror, and lastly, Cross.

Chara had abandoned Dusttale for years before Nightmare found it, so Dust is used to absolute silence, he doesn't like it much

He doesn't like being around too many people at once, but it's better than being alone. He'll actively seek out company if it gets too quiet. Said company is often Horror, because H never really gets that loud

Nightmare's right-hand man and the braincell of the gang

Cross:

Has leukophobia and kenophobia

Great cook, rarely burns food, can make things taste good, and is probably the only one who is allowed to help Horror in the kitchen

Him and his Chara are actually pretty close. Not at first, obviously, but as time goes on, they both realize they are the only ones left of their AU. They hang on to each other when the memories don't shut up

Always finds a way to call Nightmare "my prince" or "your highness." Nightmare has asked him to stop, repeatedly

Likes climbing things. He'll go up into a tree and fall asleep there if someone lets him. Will also do this on rocks, walls, buildings, and people

Very quiet. His normal footsteps barely make any sound and he uses this to sneak up on people

Probably the most mischievous in the gang, second only to Killer. His best friend is Epic, this man is a complete and utter troll. Nightmare once woke up to his room flooded with rubber chickens. It wasn't Killer.

His voice is naturally so soft that you can barely hear him. His laugh sounds like a little imp though.

Well versed in sign language! His Frisk was mute and thus he had to learn it at a young age. He sometimes signs when he talks so the gang can understand him better. Granted, Nightmare is the only other person fluent in sign

Nightmare:

Freaking nerd.

Knows so many languages and three of them are dead. He had a lot of time on his hands after he left his AU

Had no idea he was farsighted until he found Dust, who could read things easily. He tried everything to make reading easier and just assumed that his goop had somehow ruined his vision

Can technically cook. There are no promises that it'll actually taste good though. It may also be burnt or expired.

He has to consume a mix of emotions and physical food to keep himself alive. He did not know he needed to eat until after he found Horror. The magical overload of the Apple Incident managed to sustain him. He passed out in front of Horror and was put on a "diet," if it can be called that

His corruption is semi-sentient. It's not malicious, but it's more selfish than Nightmare used to be. And I mean, Pass. Night was a doormat. He wouldn't fight back even if his life depended on it. The corruption keeps him from attempting to give everything he has to please others. It's still kind of an issue

He forgave Nim for everything she threw on him and Dream. Nobody in Nightmare's Gang thinks any of that was okay.

Really likes curling up with people. He'll drag some of the gang to a couch or bed and just curl his tentacles around them. Very cozy.

His magic is a bit of an "acquired taste." Without any prior exposure, it feels dangerous, threatening. But after time, one begins to realize it's like a blanket, covering and protective

Error:

Out off all the Sanses here who have eyesight issues, Error's are the worst. Not only does he naturally have poor vision, his glitching makes it way worse

Doesn't need or want food. He'll eat it to make others happy or less worried about him though

Knows a lot of string based arts, crochet is his favorite though

Has to sleep above the ground. No idea why, he just doesn't like sleeping on a bed, or chairs, or couches. He has to web himself a hammock and sleep ten feet above everyone else

Hates the sound of chewing. Annoys him to no end, will stab his own nonexistent ears if someone chews next to him

A bird person. He really likes parrots and cockatoos

Mildly leukophobic. He doesn't spend too much time in the anti-void because of that

Yes, he's brothers with Geno and Fresh. Yes, they both annoy him to no end. Yes, he would kill and die for them. No, they may not be in the same room as him. He's also the middle child

Was not born with dyslexia. Does not read or write enough to confirm or deny if he got it after he glitched. He does have it though

Likes gardening. Never forgets to tend to his plants

And there we go! I love all headcanons from anybody, it's so fun to see how other people see the same characters! I do love tiny Horror, though. I'll cover the Stars next. I'll keep them all sympathetic too, as much as I used to hate Dream as a person, he's a great character and I know how to write him with more emotions then just toxic positivity. As much as I love emotionless Ink, I never used to write him like that and it's still uncommon for me to do so today. Blue's just a bean, we've never had any issues anyway.

#nightmare's gang #horror #killer #dust #cross #nightmare #error #headcanon #just silly things

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years

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Compromised - 15**^

THIS IS A BEAST but it's done! I will also be writing a prologue to leave this wrapped up in a nice little bow. Let me know what you'd like to see in the prologue! I have a few ideas, but your feedback/suggestions are always welcome! Thanks for coming on this journey with me!

WC: 18.9K (sorryyy)

WARNING: physical violence, death by firearm

It’d been about a month and a half since Y/N and Harry had moved back to his main home. His arm was healed enough that he was doing physical therapy now to get full mobility back, which he was working really hard at. They were still enjoying their time together, it was nice to finally have someone around in the capacity of companionship, something they had both been estranged from for years. The biggest difference in the home was that the windows and glass doors in Harry’s home were bullet resistant now. Despite what had happened there, Y/N felt safe so long as she was with Harry.

“Anyone home?” She heard Matt entering the home and she bit her lip nervously. Out of everyone, he still hadn’t taken well to her after discovering the truth about her.

“Just me.” She called out and he sighed before coming into the kitchen.

“So it was a set up.” He mumbled.

“What?” She asked, looking up from the veggies she was chopping.

“Niall and Liam told me to come over for dinner.”

“Oh.” She nodded, “Well they will be over and you’re more than welcome to have dinner with us, but dinner is at 8. Guess they’re gonna be at the warehouse a little longer. Allan and Emma will be here too.” She extended the invitation.

“Yeah, alright. I��ll be back later then.” He said and she sighed.

“Hey, I’m sorry for deceiving you all.” She apologized for what was maybe the tenth time, “I was just doing my job, Matt. I was never going to come after you guys and get you in any trouble I just needed to get to Dominic and-”

“Look, let’s not. OK?” He interrupted and she frowned.

“I can’t, Matt. You’re one of Harry’s best friends, I mean, you don’t have to like me, but just know that I’m not going to hurt him.” She said and he shook his head.

“But you are though. That’s why I’m angry. I get it, you did what you had to do, but whatever the fuck this is, it’s not going to end well for one of you and my bets are on Harry.” He said and she frowned.

“Matt, no. I would never do anything to put Harry through more than he’s been through!” She defended, putting down the knife and circling the island to come over to him.

“I’m not sure if everyone, including you, forgot that you abandoned your post at the CIA. That means that someone is coming to look for you if they’re not already, maybe you’ve already been found, I don’t know how that shit works. I hate to be the pessimist in this situation but if they find you what’s going to happen? They either take you back to America or kill you on the spot, yes or no?” He asked and she frowned and swallowed the lump forming in her throat, “Answer me.” He pressed and she nodded in confirmation, “That is what’s going to ruin Harry. I don’t give a fuck about the things you did before, it’s this!” He gesticulated at the kitchen counter, “This is what’s pissing me off! You’re out here everyday cooking and cleaning, playing the doting girlfriend and caring for him and giving him all of the happiness and love in the world and one day he’s going to come home and you’ll be gone and never heard form again! It’s going to kill him, Y/N.” He stated in exasperation, like he’d been holding on to these thoughts for ages and was finally able to say them, “I can’t pretend that that’s not a very real possibility. I won’t warm up to you and lose sight of reality. Someone needs to keep themselves in check because when that day comes we can’t all be a fucking mess and let it catch us by surprise.” He explained sadly, “It’s not that I don’t like you. I think you’re lovely. I just think that you’re both playing yourselves for fools and it’s reckless.” He said and she nodded as a tear streamed down her cheek, followed by a few more and she wiped them quickly with her hands, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He came closer and she sighed.

“It’s fine.” She said with a curt nod, “You’re right. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, but Harry and I have decided that we’re just going to enjoy the time we have. He doesn’t think that Sally will take too kindly to his disappearance, she’s sort of iced him out.” She explained and Matt sighed.

“Fuck…”

“Yeah, so ummm, it can be either one of us. And well, it is hard to think about, but if we dwell on it too much it fucking sucks. So, we’ve acknowledged the challenges and potential outcomes and decided that it’s better to live as fully as we can now and you may not agree with that mentality but I do hope that you can respect what we’ve decided enough to not shit on our parade. I know you care for Harry, but he’s just as in on this as I am, support his decision.” She said and he nodded, his eyes glued to a spot on the floor before him.

“Yeah, alright.” He agreed and looked back into her eyes, “Again, I’m sorry for making you cry. I was a prick.”

“S’alright.” She assured, “Do you ummm, do you wanna help me with dessert, s’pretty simple.” She said and he nodded with a small smile. The next few hours flew by and Y/N was happy that she understood a little more about Matt and where he was coming from. She’d bonded well with everyone else and it had just been him who was hard to reach. But things had shifted now, she wasn’t going to force a friendship with him if he felt there was too much to lose, but at least they could get along now and that was good enough.

Everyone was a little shocked that they had spent hours together and that he had even helped with their meal, but it just made the evening even better. This was their little family. Dinner was delicious and now they were playing some hide and seek with Emma. Y/N had found a really good spot for her and they giggled softly as Axel counted loudly and Y/N held up her index finger to her lip before scurrying off to find her own hiding spot. She was rushing down the hall, past Harry’s tattoo studio, thinking about maybe hiding in the tub of the downstairs bathroom when suddenly a hand came over her mouth and the other wrapped around her waist and she panicked for a second before a familiar warmth and scent overcame her senses.

“S’ just me, baby.” Harry assured as she relaxed in his hold.

“Scared me.” She grumbled in slight irritation as he let his hand moved from her mouth and he grinned before pulling her into his office.

“Sorry.” He whispered as he leaned back against the door to shut it and then his fingers turned the lock. That little detail didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“That’s cheating.” She pointed out with a grin.

“M’kinda over this game and you looking fucking delicious in that dress.” He hummed as he came up to her and she shook her head with a soft laugh.

“Harry, no.” she said sternly, but wearing a smile, “You’re insane.”

“Baby, we’ll be quick.” He said as he looped his arms around her and squeezed at her ass and she sighed. She had no resolve when it came to him, it was awful.

“There are like six other people in this house, one of them is a child. What if they hear us?” She asked as he walked her back to his desk, “Do you really want your buddies to know what my noises are?” She asked, trying to deter the inevitable from happening. It was a little exhilarating to know they weren’t alone, but it still made her nervous.

“Of course not. But I’ll just need you to be really quiet.” He said as he dipped down to kiss her hungrily and she moaned softly as his tongue invaded her mouth. She was helpless when it came to him, her arms looped around his neck, fingers finding their way into the curls at the back of his head as he picked her up and came around the desk until he was plopping down into the chair he had at his desk.

His hands slid up her thighs until his fingers were toying with the elastic band of her underwear and she ground into his crotch, letting out a soft whine at the friction against her core from his jeans and the bulge in them. Harry was breathing hard into her mouth as she started humping at him in more rhythmic pace. He felt like a teenager who was trying to hide from his parents what he was doing with his girl; fighting hard to stay quiet as to not arouse suspicion; getting overwhelmed at the implication that in just. A few more minutes he would be thrusting his cock into a tight, warm, wet cunt to get his rocks off. For some reason having an orgasm seemed like the priority right now. Just the situation had him more aroused than normal and he needed to get inside of her before he made a mess of his pants.

“Angel,” he panted, “I’ve gotta get inside of you.” He whispered, “Please.”

“Yeah, OK.” She whispered, moving back on his thighs to help him tug down his pants and briefs, his jeans were sitting just below his bum and she was kneeling up, holding the skirt of her dress up against her tummy and moving her panties to the side. Harry had occupied himself with pulling down the neckline of her dress so that her breasts spilled out over the top of it.

“Fucking perfect.” He hummed before wrapping his lips around one of her nipples and she whined out his name as he sucked harshly and used his teeth a bit to leave a love bite over her sensitive bud. He pulled back after a couple seconds and he hummed, laying one final peck to the slightly sore bud and guided her closer. He didn’t even have to hold up his cock from how hard he was, she just brought herself down and teased at his tip a bit, opening up her mouth for his fingers to slip into her mouth. She hummed around the thick digits resting on her tongue, loving the slightly salty taste of his skin, making her salivate and suck.

“Go on, baby, sit on my cock.” He urged and she started sinking down and he bit hard on his bottom lip and his eyes rolled back as her warm, wet walls swallowed his length up. She bit down on his fingers, not too hard, but enough to help stifle the moan that was desperately fighting to flow from her mouth, “Y’feel so good, baby.” He whispered. After a few seconds of adjusting he slipped his fingers from her mouth and pulled her down to kiss her sloppily as she started grinding on him, feeling his cock pressing into the spots of her that made her melt for him. She started picking up the pace, bouncing on his cock, landing roughly in his lap and he groaned as quietly as he could, helping her movements as much as possible. His eyes landed on her chest and then he moved the skirt of her dress out of the way to watch his cock disappearing into her tight little hole, “Fuck,” he whispered, “Gonna come watching that tight little thing taking my whole cock.” He whispered hoarsely and she whimpered quietly as his fingers came to her clit. He got overwhelmed just watching this and he started to thrust up against her, hitting deeper and deeper. His thrusts started spiking her pleasure building up her need to come.

“Baby, I’m getting close!” She warned quietly.

“Me too. Keep riding my cock just like that. Make me come, keep fucking me until yo make me come.” He ordered and she was determined to do just that. He started thrusting up into her harder and faster, with every impact of his cock against her insides a deep pleasure was radiating from deep inside of her out to the tips of her toes. She started feeling all tingly and determined as ever as all of the feelings, physical and emotional, started to heighten.

“Oh my god!” She whispered breathily as her walls started to flutter around his cock. Her body started to shiver as her orgasm started to overcome her. The way she grew wetter and pulsed around him was pushing him over the edge as well. He pressed her down hard onto him and they were grinding desperately against each other, her clit being tickled by the hairs against his pubic bone, it was a euphoric added touch, it was the one thing that had her breath hitching as she started to come undone. Suddenly the door knob was rattling as someone tried to open it and her eyes widened and she started to slow down.

“Don’t you fucking stop.” He panted, grabbing her head and focusing her to face him. His eyes were not leaving hers and she’d never seen him so desperate for it, “Want you to make me come, baby. I’m right there. Please.” He pleaded to her, swallowing thickly as his brows furrowed and she did as he told her. She kept grinding a few more times until they were both bursting and vibrating with pleasure. They could hear Niall’s voice, asking if they were in there, but they were far too busy shuddering and breathing heavily, fighting every instinct in them that begged them to just let out every sound they wanted as this euphoric wave took them out and drown them in ecstasy. They were struggling to breathe properly as their bodies tingled with the aftershocks as she started slowing her rocking hips over his.

“If you’re actually in there that’s cheating!” Niall called out and Harry groaned, losing his patience at the interruption.

“Fuck off, Niall!” He called out to which Niall cackled.

“Just messing with you lot. I’ll make sure the kid stays outside for a bit.” He announced and Y/N sighed as her rolling hips slowly came to a stop.

“The things you pull me into, Harry.” She chuckled under her breath and he leaned up and kissed her, “Now I’ll have to go clean up and get on some new panties-”

“Mmmm, no.” he decided and she sighed.

“We can’t stay here, Harry.”

“We won’t be staying here and you won’t be getting new knickers on yet.” He said and she looked at him a bit perplexed. Still inside of her he lifted them both up and sat her on his desk. She glanced up at him before his lips hovered over hers for a moment and then they crashed into hers hungrily. She whined against his lips as he pulled her closer to the edge and start thrusting into her again. The exposed skin all over her body pimpled with goosebumps as he rammed deep into her making her head roll back as he held himself deep inside.

“What’s gotten into you?” She panted through a giggle and he shrugged.

“Dunno, but I fucking love you and I love that dress and it’s got me fucking revved up.” He panted as delivered another rough thrust and once again stilled deep inside of her, “And I want you to listen to me.” He said and she nodded and then whined softly when he pulled himself from her, “Tighten up for a sec, can’t make a mess.” He said and her walls clenched tight to not get any of his cum on the carpet beneath them, “Good girl.” He said before kissing her lips quickly as he guided her underwear back over her, “You’re gonna sit there with my cum keeping you nice and wet until everyone leaves and I can fuck you again. Uncensored this time.” He said as he slapped her clothed pussy gently and she scoffed in protest.

“Harry, no. That’s not even fair!”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” He responded cooly and she bit her lip, “Just act normal. How much longer can they be around?” He asked and she sighed.

“The things I do for love.” She whispered before kissing his lips and shortly after she fixed her boobs back into her dress they headed back out with everyone else. They had decided to play some Uno in their absence. They promised Emma at least two games, that would go by in a jiffy.

It had been two hours, Emma and Allan were long gone and those remaining were starting to feel the high set in from some edibles that Niall had brought with him. Harry didn’t like to do drugs often, but he indulged this time because why the hell not. Also, it was helping to keep him calm. It was hard for him to know that Y/N was sitting there, with her knickers full of his cum and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Y/N on the other hand had taken the edible without a single hesitation although it was her first time in her life doing a drug. She didn’t think it would be that big of a deal or that big of an effect. But she soon discovered otherwise, she straight up had tunnel vision and the one thing at the end of the tunnel she kept honing in on was Harry. More specifically his cock. She was horny and sleepy and hungry at the same time, but the horniness was overtaking everything. She was trying her best to act normal, as he had told her, but it was getting really hard. Everyone was all giggly and relaxed and she was sitting there, across from her boyfriend, feeling like she was on fire. She couldn’t handle it anymore. She raised her hand and everyone looked at her in confusion.

“Excuse me, but I’ve never been high before this and I’m just feeling a lot of things.” She announced, “I just… I need some alone time.” She elaborated, “Goodnight. I love you all. Thank you for this, it’s really delightful.” She smiled lazily before heading inside. She could hear everyone laughing at her announcement and she giggled to herself as she made her way up to Harry’s room. Well, their room. She needed to get off and she needed Harry’s help.

Despite his previous order to leave the panties on she got out of them and just tossed on one of his t-shirts. She then took a saucy picture of herself, alluding to the fact that she wasn’t wearing panties and sent it to him and now, to wait.

*********

Harry’s phone buzzed it was from Y/N and he opened it only for his throat to feel dry as he saw a little boomerang of her lifting his KISS t-shirt right over the swell of her ass. He did nothing to hide the groan that left his throat, but everyone was stoned, he was sure no one really paid attention since they were still chatting and giggling.

“I’m gonna ummm, go check on Y/N.” He announced as he stood, “With it being her first time being stoned and whatnot. I had no idea.” He said and Niall rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say, mate. You lot are insatiable. Should be ashamed of yourselves.” He joked.

“If you got fucked as good as I am you’d be insatiable too.” Harry bickered back.

“Oh OK, so she’s doing the fucking?” Niall teased and the rest of the lads chuckled.

“Oh fuck you.” Harry murmured. Everyone except Matt was high, he had agreed to drive them home.

“They’re just enjoying their time together, let ‘em be.” He huffed to Niall and Harry just smiled at him.

“Exactly what he said.” Harry stated in agreement, “Night boys! Stay as long as you like, but don’t expect us to be respectful of you.” He called out as he headed inside.

“Well, that’s our cue to go. I don’t want to hear Harry fucking anyone again.” Niall said aloud as he stood.

“Again?” Axel asked with a chuckle and droopy eyes.

“We were in the dorms together, he wasn’t as discrete as he thought he was.” Niall chuckled.

“Neither were you, Niall!” They heard faintly from the kitchen and burst into laughter before deciding to head out. Harry headed up the stairs with a large glass of water for Y/N. When he walked in she was sprawled out on the bed.

“Hi, baby. You feeling alright?” He asked softly as he set the glass down and then caressed her arm.

“Mhmmm. this feels really good.” She said with a lazy smile before she broke out into a large yawn and he chuckled, still feeling floaty himself.

“It does.” He agreed.

“Please get in bed with me.” She said and he chuckled.

“I will, but I need brush my teeth and wash up first, OK?” He said.

“Can I come with you?” She asked and he smiled tenderly.

“Course, baby. C’mon.” He said extending his hand to her and she grabbed it and he tugged her up and guided her into the bathroom, helping her onto the counter where she sat beside him as he started his evening routine. She just watched him lovingly, pressing kisses to his cheek, head, or shoulder depending on what he was doing. When he finished up he carried her bridal style back to the bed where they stumbled onto the mattress in a fit of giggles and she just wanted to be close to him. She needed to; there was this pull she felt deep in her heart and soul that she had never felt before. His arms felt heavier around her than normal and he felt softer and warmer than he already was and it was exceedingly comforting.

“Baby.” She said softly and he hummed in acknowledgement, “Matt and I finally made up. I mean, I understood where he was coming from. He thinks that we’re a bit foolish for pretending like absolutely everything is fine when at any moment either one of us could be ripped away.” She shared and he frowned.

“Don’t say that.”

“S’just what he thinks. But I need you to know, while I have no filter,” she said and he smiled, “That I have never been happier in my life. I genuinely feel fulfilled by loving you and you loving me back. You brought so much joy and meaning to my life. I am absolutely enamored with every part of you, even the ones that make me mad, everything about you was made for me and I just needed you to know how I feel about you. Love doesn’t even begin to describe it.” She said and he just rolled over her and kissed her deeply, with so much passion bleeding between them.

“I feel the exact same way about you.” He said against her lips, “Maybe when we’re less impaired we can talk about the contingencies of our circumstances, but for now I just want to tell you that there’s absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” He reassured and she smiled before kissing him again. They held each other and kissed until they were dozing off.

**********

Sally was putting together her plan. How was she going to deal with Harry? The charity ball was the only time she could get rather close to him but she needed a clever ruse to have him alone before it started. With Harry gone she would then introduce Alexei to those partners present and explain the new partnership with the bravta. She would just poison him, a quick shot to celebrate success perhaps? Then no one would know that she was in on it either. Sally started making preparations to execute her plan, this was what Alexei wanted from her to prove her loyalty.

**********

“Hey H, what’re we doing here on a Saturday morning?” Mitch asked as he wandered into Harry’s office at the tattoo shop, “I’m rather sleep deprived and I-” he paused when he saw an older and well-dressed woman also in the office with Harry, “Morning.” He smiled at her and she returned the gesture.

“Morning, mate. Sorry it’s early, but I needed to do this with you before anyone else shows up today.” He explained and Mitch nodded, “Take a seat.” Harry invited and Mitch did so in the chair beside this woman he didn’t know.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Mitch asked nervously.

“Well first off, this is Esther Greene, my attorney.” He informed and Mitch smiled at her once again.

“Nice to meet you, Esther.” He said before looking back at Harry, “Why am I here?”

“Because I’m updating my will and I want you as a witness and executor of my plans.” He informed him and Mitch felt a knot forming in his throat.

“H, why are we-”

“It’s just a precaution and it’s in good practice to do this.” He said with a look in his eyes that said we’ll speak after but he continued saying, “After I was attacked a few months ago I started to move some things around because I wanted to ensure everything’s in good hands if anything does end up happening to me and now it’s time to just seal the deal, OK?” He said and Mitch nodded. “Do your thing, Esther.” Harry said and she smiled and nodded.

“Mr. Rowland, correct?” Mitch nodded to her question, “Can I just see some form of identification, preferably with a photo.” She said and he pulled out his wallet to show her his drivers license, “Lovely. So I’m going to need your signature on those three blank lines down the page.” She pointed at to the document.

“What am I signing?”

“These are acknowledgements. S’just you accepting the role of executor and the instructions on when to read the will. What to do if you don’t want to be executor anymore, and what the process is if anyone wants to contest the will.” He nodded and signed.

“This next one is ummm… Mr. Styles?” Esther looked at Harry for further explanation.

“This one is a transference of ownership.” Harry said to Mitch and he frowned, “I’m giving you the shop.”

“H, man, no.” Mitch sighed, “You haven’t thought this through. You’ve worked so hard for this and there’s also the whole thing with-” he stopped himself.

“Everything is right with the business, Mitch. You’re here running it all and ensuring that everything is no less than perfect and I just can’t give it as much time as I used to. I want you to have it and to do with it what you want.” Harry assured and Mitch sighed.

“Can we at least talk about this before I sign?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, Mr. Rowland, I will be sending you a copy of the document you just signed. I will leave this transference of ownership document with Mr. Styles and you can work out what to do with it.” She smiled and Mitch nodded in agreement.

“Yes, sounds good. Thank you.” She smiled.

“Always a pleasure Mr. Styles.” She said to Harry, “And it was lovely to meet you Mr. Rowland.” She said politely before leaving Harry’s office.

“This is scaring me, H.” Mitch said and Harry sighed.

“I don’t mean to do that, but things could possibly take a turn for the worse and I need someone I can trust to take care of everything for me. I want the shop to go to you regardless of what happens. You know what you’re doing and everyone likes you and trusts you. The money that was coming through from my other ventures has been removed and will now be funneled through something else. I bought a bar with one of Louis’ acquaintances and it’s all gonna go through there. The shops all clean now.” He assured him.

“What about your property and other shit?”

“I’m leaving Allan and Emma the flat they’re staying in. I want Y/N to have the other house I’ve got, out near mum and Gem. And the big one we’re staying in now, sell that and give the money to my mum. I’ve also ummm, got some bonds and investments that will need to be liquidated. I’m leaving a bit for Axel, Niall, and Matt to hold ‘em over some. M’also leaving you lot some for Arlo.”

“Harry, no.” Mitch said and Harry shook his head.

“Kids are expensive, alright? S’just a little start up that you can add to and whatnot so that the kid can do whatever he wants with it when he’s older.” Mitch shook his head.

“You’re something else, dude. You’re fucking crazy.” Mitch said with a small and sad smile.

“M’not crazy. I’m just taking care of my own.” He asserted and Mitch sighed.

*********

Meanwhile Harry was off preparing for the worst, Y/N was doing the same. She was writing a letter for Harry. When he offered to go see her family for her she was serious about having him do so, so she was leaving instruction. They deserved some closure too, and then he also would need some in the event she ever got caught by the CIA. She didn’t think she would grieve again after having to leave her family, she didn’t know hurt like that and now she was experiencing it all over again. The idea of losing Harry, of making him hurt that way, it turned her stomach.

Matt had been right, it was quite foolish for them to just pretend everything was just right when in reality they were both scared shitless of the unknown. She knew that Harry would also grow restless and sad over the possibility of losing her or even his own life, but they wouldn’t show it around each other. They were both so good at pretending, at being strong, at compartmentalizing. It was a blessing and a curse.

And then there was more that worried her, Harry had mentioned a few days prior that he had actually signed a transfer of ownership to Mitch for the tattoo shop and he wanted to be spending more time there before he completely gave it up. They had talked about him giving it up for when they “moved away” together, but she knew deep down that the reason was more sinister, so he was spending a lot of his free time there. Even with his recovery going well, he still didn’t have the agility and precision necessary to tattoo again, but he had shared that he was practicing on fake skin sometimes. He would also help Mitch, Agnes, and Zayn with their stencils sometimes, sanitize their stations, clean the general areas of the shop, and ring people up too. He just loved being there and Y/N wasn’t holding him back from going. She wanted to drop by today and pay them all a visit, maybe grab them all some lunch? She rarely went our in case someone was still looking for her, but today she just needed to get out of the house.

*********

“This is agent Adam Foster for Director Whitney.” Adam spoke into the phone as he slowly started to follow the SUV the had just pulled onto the main road. He waited as he continued following the vehicle from a few cars behind.

“Whitney here.” He heard the gruff voice over the phone.

“Director, I was surveilling this Styles guy and she’s here. Agent Y/L/N is here with him.”

“You’re positive?”

“It’s her. I’m following her now. Should I intercept?” He asked, waiting in silence for confirmation.

“Not yet. Dominic Thomas is going to be at that event is he not?”

“That’s my understanding sir. It’s in about two weeks though.” Adam stated.

“You can intercept then. Maybe you kill two birds with one stone.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep in touch with any new developments.”

“Will do.” Adam said before hanging up the phone, “Looks like it’s your lucky day, Y/N.” He said aloud to himself before making a left turn as she continued going straight.

***********

Y/N wasn’t stupid, she knew when someone was following her and she had noticed the safe distance the dark sedan maintained, but from one lane over to keep her in sight. She had done this many times before. This could only mean that she had been found. Which meant Harry was no longer safe. She was no longer safe. The blasted event was just two weeks away and she was plotting on getting some intel on the infamous Sally, find out someway to get Harry off the hook. Maybe she’d sell out Dominic? And now that was all in jeopardy.

There were weapons at Harry’s house, in the case that there was an attack again, but maybe it was in their best interest to have her leave. She debated on just telling Niall, to not worry Harry, but they had talked about not having any more secrets. Before she even realized it she was parking the car at the back of the shop, in the reserved spot. She forgot about picking up lunch for the team at the shop. Just then, Mitch and Harry walked out from the back door and Harry immediately smiled when he saw here there. She decided to push off her concerns for a moment and just go have a nice time with everyone. She opened up the door and they approached her.

“Hey!” Mitch greeted happily, “What a surprise!”

“Mitchy!” She genuinely smiled as she hopped out and hugged him tight, “How’s Sarah and the baby?” She inquired, pulling back to look at him.

“Really good! He said his first word, Tubby, which is the cat’s name. I mean, s’not mom or dad, but whatever.” He mumbled, making her giggle.

“Uncle Harry’s next.” Harry interjected and Mitch moved out of the way to let him greet Y/N, “Hi, my lovely.” He hemmed and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips and then her forehead, “I’m so happy to see you.” He declared with a bright smile.

“Me too.”

“What brought you out here?” Harry asked.

“Wanted to bring you all lunch.” She said looking to Mitch, “And I missed you.” She whispered and he kissed her again before his eyes met hers.

“We ordered out and were about to go pick it up. Wanna drive?” Mitch asked.

“Yeah, let’s go.” She agreed and they hopped back in the SUV and they took off. It wasn’t more than twenty minutes before they were back in the shop and closing up so that everyone got a chance to eat. She was there for a bit after they opened up and then decided to just get out of their hair. After much thought, she decided that she would in fact be leaving for a few weeks to get whoever had been following her off her case.

“It was great to see you all!” She called one last time before Harry was interlocking their fingers and guiding her out back.

“Thanks for stopping by, baby.” He hummed as she unlocked the car. Her smiled faded a bit and his did as well as he saw her eyes start to gloss over with tears, “Hey, hey, hey.” He pulled her close into his chest, holding her lovingly, “What’s the matter?” He asked and she sighed.

“Someone’s found me.” She informed and he pulled back a bit, frowning at the news, “They were following me today, I didn’t really see the person, but the maneuvers they were making on the road, they were after me.” She informed him, “I’m not safe and neither and you, I think I should move back to the safe house for a few weeks until-”

“I’m not letting you go out there all alone. What if they follow you out there and-” he couldn’t even finish the sentence, “No fucking way, Y/N. We’re sticking together. It’s harder if it’s two of us.” He reasoned.

“I can’t have you getting hurt again, Harry.”

“I won’t. It won’t be an ambush because we’re prepared, we’re aware of the threat this time around. I don’t want to be apart from you, angel.” He reiterated and she sighed, “I will protect you myself, if we come here every day we’ll be-”

“No way, you just signed the shop over to Mitch, we can’t put him and the business at risk. If the person following me is CIA or even a hitman hired by the CIA they don’t care to make it messy. They’ll stage, cover-up, whatever they need to do to justify the damages, as long as they accomplish their mission.” She informed, “I can’t do that to you and your friends, H. I won’t.”

“OK, we stay home then. Alright? But please, don’t go., it’ll drive me absolutely insane not knowing.”

“OK. Would go crazy without you too.” She confessed and he smiled, “I am concerned about how dependent I’ve become on you. Practically helpless.” She added with a smile and he chuckled.

“You, my gorgeous girlfriend, are anything but helpless.” He assured her with a smile, “You’re smart, strong, determined, caring, and considerate. And on top of that a fucking phenomenal shag.” He grinned with cheek and she felt her face heating with a blush, making Harry chuckle.

“Oh hush…” she hummed timidly, “Well, I’m gonna be heading back home. See you there?”

“M’coming with you. I have a little something I want to do with you actually.” He said and her eyebrows arched up.

“A little something?” She asked and he nodded.

“Nothing sexual.” He chuckled, reading her mind, “I’m a gentleman.” He reminded and she laughed loudly.

“Gentleman? Sure as hell don’t fuck like one.” She grinned and now he was going pink in the face as he chuckled.

“Jesus, baby. Gimme a few, I’ll be right out, OK?” She nodded and hopped into the car, waiting until he was coming back out with his tote on his shoulder and then climbing into the car, “Let’s go home.” He hummed and she nodded and started up the car and they took off.

***********

Things were weird now, it’d been almost a week since Y/N had told Harry someone had been following her. She was glad that she had been honest with Harry, but now everything was tense. After she had told him all of them had regrouped and done a sweep of the house for bugs and hacks in the surveillance equipment and only found that there had been some remote log-ins to his email accounts, Y/N nor Matt, were able to nail down an IP. But the last activity had been at least a month ago. There was a whole fat load of absolutely nothing but she and Harry were still walking on eggshells. Even if they hadn’t found anything, they still felt a bit violated by the possibility of someone peering in on their every move and conversation within the supposed privacy of his home. It was an awful feeling. One she had probably imposed on so many people before, including Harry. She felt so guilty about it now that she understood just how awful it was to be on the receiving end of things.

“Harry.” She spoke softly as he flipped over the pancakes he was making them for breakfast.

“Yeah, love?”

“I’m so sorry.” She sighed.

“For what?” He questioned, turning his attention to her with a frown.

“Things have been weird because we think we’re being watched and I was actually doing the same thing to you and it’s… fucked up.” She huffed, “I can’t believe I was doing this to you. Making you feel unsafe and-”

“Hey baby,” he frowned, “that’s in the past, alright?” He said and she sighed.

“That doesn’t… it doesn’t excuse what I did.” She shook her head with shame and frustration.

“No, but I forgive you for it. So please, stop beating yourself up over it. OK? I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I was being weird and distant. I mean, I have been but it’s nothing to do with you being followed. Like that does worry me, a lot, but we have the gala next week and I just have this sinking feeling that I…” he sighed sadly and took a breath to be able to swallow down that lump forming in his throat, “that I won’t be making it out of that hotel.” He finished, staring intently at their interlaced hands. Her eyes were brimming with tears as he spoke this. They hadn’t really talk about that. Was there a plan in place? “I’m terrified of what’s going to happen. I really am.” He confessed and Y/N opened up her arms for him and hugged him tight. Her head was pressed against his chest and she could just hear his heart pounding away intensely.

“Baby, it’s gonna be OK.” She whispered. Just hearing her reassure him brought him a sense of comfort. He could also her for help. He didn’t want to have her do violent and unsavory things for him, but he knew full well that she would if she asked him. “Is there like a plan worked out for this? Or do you know who would be there that could potentially hurt you?”

“Not sure. Sally needs me, I don’t think she’d try to get anyone else there to hurt me or take me out. I’m too valuable to her, I’m sure she’s livid but the other associates are the ones who will act on their anger. My absence delayed shipments, payments, decisions that needed to be made…”

“I mean, I realize that these are cold criminals and very serious about their money but you can’t talk to them? Explain to them that you were shot and recovering from your injuries?” She asked.

“I don’t see why they would care about that. And maybe they were in on it too? But even the implications of coming forward about that would be bad because I know it’s Dominic who wants me dead…He’s a huge part of our organization, if I said something about that it could complicate a lot for Sally, it could ruin the trust in the organization and eventually people would blame that on me. It’s just way too complicated. But he’s been so unsuccessful that maybe Dom’s been riled up enough that he will take matters in his own hands. Not sure the Russian’s want to see any more setbacks with their plan.” He said and she bit her lip and glanced up to him.

“What if we uncomplicated things?” She asked and Harry’s brows furrowed.

“How do you mean?” He questioned her.

“W-what if we get to Dominic before he gets to you?” She treaded lightly at the suggestion.

“He has a family…” Harry sighed with sympathy.

“So do you, Harry.”

“I couldn’t… I don’t know what you’ve seen in any government files about me or my friends, but we have never… I’ve never taken a life.” He said.

“I know. You’ve mentioned it before and I would never ask you to compromise that, baby.” She assured him, “But I have already and-”

“You’ve done this once for me. Not again.” He stated firmly.

“Harry, I want to do everything I can to make sure that you’re free. He’s always going to be coming after you. Or maybe Alexei, if Dominic has truly betrayed Sally and he’s siding with the Russians maybe taking out Alexei will cool him off. Alexei doesn’t have a wife or kids and his mother is also deceased and he’s calling the shots.”

“We don’t even know where he is.” Harry said.

“What if he shows up there? At the gala?”

“I doubt it.” He said and she sighed.

“H, if an opportunity presents itself I’m not wasting it. I just need you to know that.” Y/N stated resolutely.

“OK.” He confirmed and she planted a kiss to his cheek before letting go.

The rest of their day went on quite nicely despite the grave tone of their morning. They even decided on a walk to the chippy and were smiley and seated at the little tables posted outside of it. They were just eating calmly, enjoying the slight breeze that was provided and Y/N just looked up at him. He was handsome and smart and his heart was big and full of kindness, compassion, and good will towards everyone, even those who had hurt him. From the very beginning, she knew that he was good. He was so good it made her want to be better.

“Remember when we “ran into each other” here?” She asked him, making air quotes around the running into each other part, and he chuckled and nodded.

“I remember.” He smiled.

“You told me a bit about why you got into tattooing and I ummm…” she sighed, “Since then I knew that I wanted to help you.” She explained with a furrowed brow, “Obviously, you didn’t know I knew about everything else, but I was listening to what you were saying and I just knew that if it was possible, I could try and help you get out. Then that was reaffirmed when you helped Allan.” She said and he was serious, his eyes soft on her, “You’re a good man, Harry. Best man I’ve ever met.” She spoke with conviction.

“I love you, so much.” He said softly.

“I love you too.”

***************

Y/N and Harry had just finished their spa treatments at the hotel for the gala.

“Alright you two, I hope you enjoyed your treatments. Take your time getting dressed.” One of their masseuses said in a gentle and soothing voice.

“Thank you.” Harry mumbled and soon they heard the door clock shut. Y/N turned her head towards Harry who was already looking at her, a lazy grin on his face, “Feel good?” He asked and she hummed.

“Yeah, amazing.” She hummed and he rolled his eyes, “What?” She breathed through a laugh.

“Don’t think I ever wanna get massaged with you again, you’re just giggling the whole time. Wasn’t all that relaxing.” He said.

“I couldn’t help it! It tickled and hurt sometimes! All those noises you were making, that was the cherry on top.” She teased, “I can’t even get those out of you.” She giggled.

“Hey, that felt really good alright?”

“I don’t make you feel that good?” She asked.

“Even better, but I can’t very well be. Making those kinds of noises for you. You’d laugh. Clearly.” He said and she grinned.

“Never heard a man whimper like that.”

“Alright, let’s get going.” He said standing, letting the towel on his lap drop and she saw the slight bulge in his briefs.

“So that’s why your were whimpering like that…” she teased again.

“Oh my god…” he huffed.

“No, it’s alright. Trudy had good hands.” Y/N said as she dropped the towel from around her body too.

“That can happen sometimes when you’re extremely relaxed!” He defended and she giggled.

“I’m teasing, baby.”

“You’re being a pain in my ass.” He said as she came closer.

“S’alright. I’m quite turned on too so maybe we just skip dinner and head back to the room.” She suggested as she leaned up and kissed his jaw.

“Nah, I think I’d rather eat first.” He said with a smug grin and she glared at him playfully.

“Yeah, fine.” She hummed and got dressed in silence. Harry was grinning as he got dressed and just before they walked out he pressed her into the door and his lips smeared into hers hungrily. He kissed with such need and passion that she felt like mush. Then he pulled away and she smiled, taking a second to get herself together.

“Wow.” She whispered.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Their evening was really romantic. They got to go on the eye to watch the sun set, then they went to dinner and ended up in a bar with live music where they danced for a bit before they were getting in a cab back to the hotel.

“Thanks for tonight. Everything was perfect.” Y/N sang sweetly against his lips before pressing a kiss to them.

“You deserve nothing less.” He whispered back, “When we get back I’m getting you straight into bed with you.” He said and she smiled.

“OK.” She grinned.

And that’s exactly what happened. As soon as the door to their room closed Harry was holding her against it and kissing her deeply. A soft “Mph” left her lips when his tongue dipped into her mouth. Her hands hurried down his body, rushing to get him out of his trousers and he bit down on her lip. Her eyes flew open to meet his own.

“Don’t rush, baby. I want to take my time with you, let’s just enjoy each moment.” He kissed her gently and she took a deep breath and slowed down sufficiently to get into the bedroom portion of their little suite. There was tension between them that made her skin feel on fire and desperate for his touch. Especially as he avoided touching her skin as he removed her clothes, delicately and slowly. He could tell that she was completely on edge and would randomly reward her with a kiss to her back, shoulder, or neck as he unzipped her. When he removed her bra he cupped and kneaded at her breasts tenderly, sensually, just tickling and teasing touches to her nipples that made her blood boil in the best way.

“Harry…” she whined as he let his hands dip into the sides of her underwear and he knelt down and sank his teeth into her left cheek before kissing over the spot.

“Relax, angel.” He mumbled against her soft skin before biting into the right one and sucking. She suppressed a moan as he marked her skin with his mouth, she loved when he marked her like that, she had never been so into it until him. Why? She had some idea about why, but it didn’t matter, she just liked knowing that she was his and she wanted him to know that too. Her thinking came to a screeching halt when her underwear slipped down her legs, his thick fingers guiding them down her legs, “Lift your leg.” He said softly and she lifted her right leg to help him get the underwear past her feet, but then he held it up and before she could even ask him his lips were kissing at her surely sticky with arousal slit, his tongue barely peeking out to rub into her folds. There was a deep tickle of anticipation swimming deep in her belly. He ate her cunt so good, she already knew what it would feel like when he opened up and sucked at her, now to wait until he actually did it.

Y/N tried not to be too hasty as he pressed kisses to her lower lips, nuzzling his face against her and breathing hotly against her. She could very easily reach back and push him further and grin down onto his skilled mouth, but she was rather enjoying this. In a way, he was worshipping every part of her and it felt amazing. She felt beautiful and desirable and loved. She understood now why he was taking his time, she wanted to make him feel the same way.

Harry was obsessed with the resolve she had to be obedient to him and to not rush things, to enjoy every part of it and she was. He finally let his tongue roll out and savor her taste. He moaned and buried his face deeper against her core, adjusting her leg on the bed to spread her out a bit more for him. He reached his left hand up to hers resting on the bed and interlocked their fingers. She squeezed his fingers, a small detail of appreciation for making the moment that much more intimate. He stopped fooling around and opened up to suck on her clit. She whimpered at the pressure his mouth was building, her fingers squeezing his tighter as he kept going.

“Oh my god!” She moaned as her hips started to grind down on his mouth. And then he pushed his tongue into her, she was so sensitive right at the entrance and his tongue stimulating that part of her had her tummy quivering. He pulled away from her and freed up his hands.

“Let me lean back on the bed.” He said and and she made space for him to get underneath her, she was now looking down at him as his eyes closed and his tongue started to flick at her clit quickly, making her own eyes to close and then without a warning two of his long thick fingers pushed into her entrance.

“Fuck, baby!” She gasped, crumbling the sheets in her fists as he set a delicious pace, rubbing right into that front wall of her that was making her tremble. That plus his tongue on her was building up this sensation that was making her feel like she would explode. Her heart was pounding loudly as she whimpered, pleading with him not to stop. Her walls were squeezing his fingers greedily, refusing to let him remove himself from her completely, “I’m gonna come!” She gasped as the pleasure started to feel like too much to handle. She choked out a moan of his name before she burst around his fingers. Harry groaned against her as she started drenching his hand as her cum spilled out of her. She ground into his mouth aggressively, not wanting this blissful feeling to end yet. Her whole body was trembling and all she could hear was her heartbeat between her ears. Opposite to what she was expecting, he started to finger her faster, his mouth left her clit though, giving her a break as she got really sensitive there, “Baby.” She panted, her legs felt like wet noodles, she wasn’t going to be able to take another one in this position.

“You’ve got another one for me. Know you do, baby.” He encouraged her, looking up to her. He was just hitting the perfect spot, his rhythm not faltering in the slightest, her skin broke out in goosebumps, “Squirt again for me.” He kissed at her inner thigh, he started going a bit harder and her entire body froze as she started shaking, bursting around his fingers again, “Fuck yeah.” He groaned, not letting up in the slightest as she let out a euphoric scream and he latched his lips back to her clit, drawing one more out of her, not as grand as the first two, but certainly enough to have her arms give out as she landed face first on the mattress, her legs were sticky and shaky as she panted heavily. She felt him get up from under her and he turned her onto her back gently and she opened her eyes to look at him, he was smiling a bit smugly at her and she took him in, dress shirt soaked through enough that she could see his butterfly on his toned stomach.

“You’re insane.” She giggled tiredly.

“Got a little carried way, but I know you can take it.” He shrugged knowingly, “Besides, s’kind of a newfound hobby of mine, making you come like that.” He said and she bit her lip as she watched his start to undo the buttons on his shirt. He took off his top and then his trousers, she watched him get naked and then crawl over her body to kiss her slowly.

“Harry.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asked, pulling back to look at her.

“I love you.” She smiled and he smiled.

“I love you too.” He responded before diving back to her mouth.

They made out for a while, her hands wandering down to stroke at his cock, edging him a couple of times before she settled his erection between her sopping and throbbing folds, letting him grind against her. All on his own, he’d allow himself to get close and he’d stop right before he’d lose control. It was still so passionate and intense, his eyes hardly leaving hers or her face. And then they reached a point where they’d had enough of this, “Can I put it inside, baby?” He asked and she nodded quickly, she was more than ready for him by now. He didn’t even need to use his hand to guide himself to her entrance, she was slick enough that the head of his cock pressed right against her tight little hole when he adjusted his hips. He glanced down at the space between them and then up into her eyes as he pushed his hips forward a bit and she stretched around him and swallowed him up, making them both moan deeply as he sunk in further until he was fully inside of her. He just held himself there, taking her in, not rushing to pound into her or anything, as he had said, they were taking their time.

“Love feeling so close to you.” She sang before pushing her lips onto his own and he nodded.

“I do too, baby.” He whispered, kissing her with more urgency as his hips reared back before he thrust back into her and pressing in, holding himself there for a few seconds before repeating the motions.

This was different. They’d fucked plenty of times, but they had never really made love. Slow, intentional, intimate, is what this was. Somehow this felt better than all the times they had been desperately needy for each other and just going at it. Nothing crazy was happening, this was rather tame to the way they usually had sex, but the way he just looked at her, it was making her fall in love with him all over again.

Her breathing was ragged and she felt tingly and warm all over as her continuing rutting into her the way he was. Their eye contact barely wavered, it added an intensity to the moment that was making her heart feel overwhelmed.

“Y/N.” He panted against her lips.

“Yeah?” She asked, whimpering as he ground his hips into her sweet spot.

“You have my whole heart.” He said softly, “Every piece of it has learned to love you. You need to know that.” He mumbled as he started picking up the pace. She moaned at his actions and at his words, starting to feel like she couldn’t breathe.

“I do.” She gasped, “Oh fuck!” She whimpered when his thrusts got more forceful, hitting deep within her at a steady pace that started to wind her up to her finish.

“Fuck, that’s it isn’t it?” He asked and she swelled the knot in her throat and nodded, “You always take it so well, baby.” He panted and she moaned, “So fucking good for me.” He groaned, squeezing at her hip before planting himself on his elbows to feel his body closer to hers. Her fingers started trailing down his back, nails biting into the flesh of his ass to feel him deeper, as deep as he could get. She let her legs fall as wide as they could around his hips to give him the space.

And just as her body started climbing to the summit of euphoria physically, her emotions were swelling in her heart at triple the intensity. It was making her body tingle more intensely, her reactions to him were much more marked, it was making her eyes well up with tears, the good kind. Harry was feeling the same, his body was aching for release but he just didn’t want to stop loving on her this way. His heart felt like it would explode from how much he loved her, it was nearly aching him to the point of tears. He reached for one of her hands, desperately intertwining their fingers as he started getting close to his climax. He pressed her hand up into the mattress, tightening his grip on hers when her walls squeezed around his cock.

“Fuck you feel so good.” He whispered, “Gonna make me come, baby.” He shivered, his eyes rolling back as the melody of her moans filled his ears, “Wan’to come with you.” He panted and she nodded, kissing him briefly, letting his toes curl when the feeling would become too much.

“I’m right there!” She warned, squeezing his hand tight as her tears started to stain her cheeks and he kissed at them.

“Just a little more, hold on for me.” He grunted desperately and she cried out as it started getting too much, her body was taught as a bow, her walls tightly clenching down on him, hungry and eager for his release. “Fuck.” He moaned, “Now, baby. Come with me.” He whimpered against her lips and the world seemed to pause when it happened. They were staring at each other for the first few seconds of their orgasms. All they could heart were each others breathing, the sounds of his body connecting with hers, and they felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Y/N’s eyes rolled back and she moaned loudly as her body seemed to heat up like an inferno, making her stomach swarm with butterflies and for her entire body to tense as the pleasure started to radiate from her core in waves. Harry similarly was covered in goosebumps, grunting with each stream of his cum that spilled into her, his chest was burning from the lack of oxygen, he almost felt like his head would explode, but it just felt so fucking good. His stomach was tensed to the point of pain, tears trickled down his face, mixing with her own as they kissed now, but he didn’t want to stop. Despite the sensitivity that was beginning to overcome them both he rode it out, thrusting more gently than before and finally he breathed in and was gasping for air squeezing her hand tight. Her arm around him made him start to calm as she stoked at his back gently until he was still and resting his weight over her. They were both panting and she freed up her other hand to hug him tight and he did the same, holding her body close to his. Pressing kisses into her arms and chest and neck, as if he would be dragged away from her at any moment.

Despite the tenderness of the moment something loomed over them, deep inside Maybe this had been so intense and intimate because it could possibly be the last time. Before she knew it she was hugging him tighter than ever as she sobbed and he was too. It didn’t ruin the moment, loss was an inevitable part of life and of love and they just let themselves feel it all, the beauty, the passion, and also the pain. After several minutes they had settled down and had made their way beneath the bed sheets. She was nestled into his side, mindlessly tracing his tattoos as their legs tangled and caressed each others comfortingly.

“Y/N, tomorrow we’re just going to have a good time, OK? Let’s not look for trouble, if trouble comes we’ll deal with it. The boys’ll be nearby and they’ll come if we need it. OK?”

“OK.” She whispered.

“Everything’s gonna be fine. We’ll be fine.”

“But what if something bad happens and no one can get to you or-”

“Oh angel,” he whispered, “I have far too much to lose now. I swear to you that I won’t go down without a real fight. I just got you. I want everything life has to offer with you and I’ll be damned if we don’t get to enjoy more of this life together.” He said before kissing her forehead and she smiled at his comforting words.

“Right. We’ve still got to move to Italy and all that.” She reminded and he hummed.

“Yeah. And get our pets, and maybe get married? Do you even want to get married?” He asked, “Don’t think we’ve ever talked about that…” he pondered.

“Never really thought about marriage before you.” She admitted, “Would only get married with you.” She disclosed and he couldn’t be happier to hear that.

“Well what about kids? I know you’re kind of averse to them but it’s us.” He reasoned, “You wouldn’t want to try and have kids with me?” He asked.

“For you, yeah. I’d be open to having your kids.” She smiled, “Would want to make sure that we were 100% safe first though.” He nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. We will be.” He stated with confidence “I promise, Y/N.” He swore wholeheartedly before turning on his side to kiss her. The kiss started growing hotter and heavier as the seconds passed and then he dragged her onto his lap and her hand reached back to grab his length and line it up with her entrance before she pushed her hips back to get him inside of her. They both sighed in relief and he kissed her urgently before pulling back some, “Alright baby, show me what you can do.” He hummed with a grin.

************

After the night to early morning they had, their whole day had been lazy, Y/N and Harry were worn out from their activities. But now it was nearing dinner time and they needed to start getting ready for the gala. Y/N felt relieved that Harry’s friends would be around, not in attendance to the event necessarily, but to ensure that he was safe and that she was safe. It was hard to plan for something they didn’t know would actually happen. Like Harry said the night before, she was just to focus on having a good time and not go out of her way to find trouble. But as of now Y/N was a bit irritated because she couldn’t find her hair curler, she knew she had packed it.

“Babe, did you see a hair curler anywhere?” She asked, peeking into the bathroom, Harry was styling his hair.

“Ummmm, not in the room. You ran back to the house to grab it though. Maybe you left it in the car?” He looked at her quickly before getting back to it.

“OK. I’m gonna go check. Be back in a little.” She informed before throwing on one of his t-shirts over her biker shorts and slipping into her vans before heading down into the parking garage. After looking all over the car and in the trunk for a second time she saw it in one of the netted compartments along the wall of the trunk and she reached for it and hurried back to the elevator. The door was beginning to shut when she heard someone calling out.

“Hold it! Hold it please!” The voice called and Y/N quickly pressed the “door open” button and after a few second a man was hurrying into the elevator and when he looked up at her she nearly gasped. “Thank you so much.” Dominic said with a smile of relief and then his face morphed into one of confusion, “Wait. I know you.” He said, “You went out with my friends and I back in Boston. What was your name?” He asked and Y/N was so shocked to see him that she really couldn’t recall the alias she had given herself.

“Ummm…”

“Are you going up to Alexei’s room?” He asked and she just nodded, “He’s in the penthouse, not floor 11.” He informed.

“Oh, my room is on 11. I need to ummm, get ready for the gala.” She smiled nervously.

“Right.” He smiled, “Well, when you finish up, make your way up there, we should have a little celebratory drink before we head down.” He said.

“What are we celebrating?” She inquired and he sighed.

“Well, out with the old, in with the new.” He said, “Tonight we’re making some big changes. I assume you know about what Alexei and I do now.” He said and she nodded.

“The bravta, right?” He smiled and nodded.

“Well tonight we’re getting rid of a thorn in Alexei’s side. Some guy who is messing with my second organization. After much convincing her, we’re joining up with the Bravta and her test of loyalty just happens to be plucking out the thorn.” He explained and her smile faltered, “Sorry, maybe I’ve said too much.” He chuckled and she bit her lip nervously. She needed to get to Harry. The elevator started to stop.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you later…” Y/N said and Dominic nodded as she hurried out. He felt a little bit suspicious of her. She never told him his name again… So as she scurried out he followed behind he quietly until she rounded a corner, peeking, to see which room she would go into. And right as he came closer he heard it.

“Harry?” She called out loudly through out the room, “Fuck! Pick up, Harry!” She shouted nervously and Dominic hurried back to the elevator. He needed to tell Alexei that she was a traitor.

Y/N had tried Harry twice with no response. She then called Niall, who answered right away.

“Niall, do you know where Harry is? He’s not picking up.” She said frantically.

“Yeah, Sally invited him to her room for a drink before dinner. Wanted to talk to him about everything that happened in private.” Y/N’s heart sunk.

“She’s in on it, Niall! I ran into Dominc in the elevator. The Bravta is absorbing B.F. and Sally’s test of loyalty is to kill Harry. She’s going to kill him!” She shouted with angst as hot tears started running down her face.

“Shit…ummm… let me log in to find her room number.” She heard him typing away and after a few moments he was speaking up.

“Floor twenty. She’s in the penthouse.” He said and she felt even more sick. There was no way he was getting out of this alive alone.

“Alexei’s there too. Dominic’d heading up there now. We need to get up there!”

“On it, love!” He said and hung up. Y/N searched around her luggage for her gun and as soon as she found it she rushed to her door and swung it open only to be pushed back inside harshly. She fell to the ground with a loud thud, her gun flinging out of her grip and out of reach.

“Hello, Y/N.” She heard and glanced up to the man standing over her with a gun pointed straight at her head.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Agent Adam Foster, CIA.” He said and she sighed.

“Agent, you must listen to me. There’s going to be a murder here and I need to stop it.”

“Are you referring to your boyfriend’s or yours?” He asked, cocking the firearm and she frowned.

“Agent, please. I know that I went rogue, but these are good people and they’re in danger. I couldn’t just leave them!” She supplicated, but he had no emotion on his face.

“You’re a traitor.” He accused and she shook her head as tears fell down her face.

“I’m not. I’m not! I really need to get to the penthouse. I know you need Dominic. But Sally, and Alexei are up there too, they’re about to kill the love of my life! Please, they run the bravta and the B.F. Clan, we can cut the head off of the snake tonight! But in order to do that you need to let me get up there, you need to let me save him. Please. I’ll do anything, I’ll turn myself in afterwards! Please agent Foster! Adam, please.” She sobbed.

“You’re absolutely pathetic.” He said with disdain, but before it registered she was kicking his leg out and Adam was landing harshly on the ground as well, groaning from the impact. She reached for her phone to call Niall that she was in trouble but suddenly she was being thrown into the wall harshly, her phone dropping upon the impact. He had her by the throat, crushing her throat, making her gasp for air. Her eyes were starting to burn and tear up, this couldn’t be the end. It couldn’t be.

*********

“So you’re not angry?” Harry asked Sally for clarification and she shook her head.

“Of course not, Harry! You were about to be murdered! Sometimes you need to lay low! I get why this put a hiccup in things, there wasn’t a contingency plan in case something like this happened, but now we know to leave something in place.” She said nonchalantly.

This was exactly what he needed to hear and that’s exactly why he was put off by it. She was cold and sly, she wouldn’t let him off so easily, even if he was someone that she relied on heavily. But he played it cool too, he needed to figure out what was up her sleeve.

“So I took the money out of the tattoo shop. It’s being filtered through a more lucrative venture, a club, that an acquaintance owns. The guy is one of my dealers’ biggest clients.”

“Smart move, kid.” She said and he nodded.

“Gotta lay low.” He smirked and she did as well. Suddenly Dominic was walking in through the door and he felt rigid as Dominic approached him with a smile on his face.

“Harry, always a pleasure. How you been, mate?” He asked extending a hand and Harry was using ever little bit of will power he had not to lunge at the son of a bitch.

“Dom.” He smiled.

“Sorry to barge in, we’re ummm… staying together.” He said to Harry and then looked to Sally. Sally couldn’t possibly be in on this, maybe he wanted to overthrow her? “Can I have a moment in private, love?” He asked her and she nodded.

“We’re not done, I’ll be back in a tick.” She smiled and hurried off. Harry rolled his eyes and reached for his phone seeing a few missed calls from Y/N and Niall, immediately putting him on edge. He then saw a text from Niall and he opened it.

Sally is selling out to the Bravta! Her initiation task is to kill you! I’m getting back up!

Harry felt his entire body run cold as the words registered in his brain. He didn’t even have a gun or any form of weapon to defend himself. He looked around, seeing what he could get creative with. Is that what she was doing with Dominic now? Getting armed? Should he run? What if he never gets to see Y/N again? He didn’t even wait for her to get back to the room, he just took off. He should’ve said goodbye.

************

She didn’t know where she found the strength, but she knocked the heel of her palm up into his nose causing it to crack loudly and his eyes to water as blood dripped from it. She used this momentary relapse to free herself and tackle him to the bed. He swung at her wildly, hitting her jaw. She groaned as she bit down on her tongue, spitting out as blood filled her mouth from the injury. Then wrestled until she managed to get beneath him. She wrapped her arms tightly around h his neck, cutting off his air supply from the chokehold she had him in.

“Adam, please! Calm the fuck down and please help me catch these sons of bitches and I am all yours! I swear! I just want to keep Harry safe, I just need to make sure he’s safe and I will go peacefully.” She groaned as he struggled, his nails digging into her arms and then flailing towards her face, landing a few slaps but not enough to disturb her hold on him. After a few more seconds he was starting to feel heavier and he just tapped at her hand, a sign of surrender and she started to loosen up her hold and when he didn’t attack she fully let go. He was gasping for air, coughing as he tried to regain his breathing as he sat up panting. After several moments he looked over at her.

“Are you sure they’re all here?” He croaked out and she nodded.

“They’re all here and up in the penthouse.” She assured, “We need to get up there now.”

“Fine. But you better come peacefully when we get these fuckers.” He said and she nodded, extending her hand to him.

“I will. I swear I will.” She promised and he shook her hand and then pulled her closer roughly.

“If you try to run I will kill you.” He warned her and she nodded in understanding.

“Let’s get up there.” She said grabbing her gun and phone, “If they’re not all up there I can have Harry’s friends fan out and help to find them.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

************

Harry’s chest felt heavy and he felt sick to his stomach as he tried to ,mentally prepare himself for what would likely be happening in just a few moments. He almost had the mind to scold Sally and Dominic when they came back out of the room giggling like fools.

“Later, love. Later, Styles!” He called before heading out of the penthouse door. He was wary as she came back to sit before him with a smile.

“So that started up again, did it?” He asked, trying to gauge where she was at now and she shrugged.

“He might be an idiot but he’s got other talents.” She smiled and he cringed a bit making her giggle.

“So, Harry, it’s been a while since we caught up. I saw on your RSVP that you bought a date tonight…” she mentioned, “Any chance we get to meet her?” She asked with a grin.

“I don’t know. Don’t want her getting too mixed up in what we’ve got going on.” He explained and Sally hummed.

“Does she know?” She questioned.

“Kind of, not how deep in it I am though. She’s from America though, so she’s pretty clueless as to what’s going on here.” He fibbed and she nodded in understanding. Based on what Dominic told her just now he was lying. This girl knew a lot more than he was letting on or maybe he really was clueless as to what she knew.

“Are you in love with her?” She asked and he sighed, he didn’t want to lie to her. Maybe if he was honest about how he felt she’d kill him and leave her alone.

“Yes. I am. She has made me so fucking happy. I know it’s only been a few months but she’s changed everything for me. I always thought I’d have to be alone in this but she makes me want to try, she’s worth it.” He admitted with a soft smile, “Every moment we spend still doesn’t feel like enough.” He chuckled, “I never want it to end.” He opened up to her and Sally felt sick to her stomach as he said these words. How was she supposed to kill him? But then again, this girl was up to something, she had been with Alexei too according to Dominic. He felt that maybe she was spying on Alexei for Harry, but that wasn’t possible. Harry didn’t know about Alexei. The more likely situation was that she was spying on Harry for Alexei, maybe she was a safety net put in place by him? Alexei wouldn’t trust Dominic with a detail like that, no way. Maybe having this other girl there meant that she wouldn’t have to be the one to kill Harry at all. As she stared into his eyes it became less and less likely that she’d go through with it.

“Well, how about a drink to celebrate?” She asked, “Celebrate your recovery and your love.” She said and he shrugged.

“Yeah, sure. Suppose one’s fine.” He agreed and Sally hummed and went over to the bucket of champagne she had a few feet away. One was already open and he noticed that she poured his flute from that one and her own from a different bottle. She then returned and handed him a champagne flute and sat down. Their eyes met briefly.

“Pretend to drink some. Someone is watching.” She mouthed to him silently and his brows lifted for a moment before he knocked back the flute, not ingesting any of the champagne and then putting it down on the small coffee table between them. “Not gonna finish?” She asked aloud and he sighed.

“No, I should finish getting ready.” He informed her.

“Alright, let me walk you out.” She said and stood, guiding him back to the penthouse door. She opened it up and then pulled him in for a hug. He was confused by it until he heard her speak quietly, “If you know what’s good for you get the hell out of here, Harry. Maybe you’ll make it another day.” She said and he pulled away, trying not to show concern.

“Goodbye, Sally.” He said cautiously and hurried into the elevator. His heart was pounding as he tried to dial Y/N with no answer. “Fuck!” He shouted and called Niall to see where he was and if everyone else had arrived. More people wanted him dead and he had no idea who those people were.

“Niall!” He breathed out in relief when he finally picked up.

“Oh thank fuck, you’re alive! How? Where are you?”

“I’m in the lift going down to my room. I need to find Y/N. Sally just let me go, but she warned me that others are trying to kill me. She didn’t say who, so we need to go to keep safe.” He said as the doors came to a stop. “Have you heard from Y/N?”

“No, she’s the one who warned me about Sally. Do you think that Alexei is here?” He asked worriedly as the elevator came to a stop at his floor.

“I don’t know, but we should count on it. Meet me in the room, I’ll get Y/N to start packing up and we can all head out from there.” He said into the phone before hanging up as he hurried down the hallway to his and Y/N’s room. H let himself in and felt his stomach twist in concern as he saw saw blood drops on the light carpet and then on the sheets. There was plenty of evidence of an altercation. He knew she wouldn’t go down without a fight. He called her again and no answer came through.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He bellowed, kicking the wall harshly.

*************

Y/N and Adam had taken the stairs to the penthouse, the elevator would warn them that someone was coming up. The entered the hallway to the grand double door slowly, guns pointed forward, covering each other, front and back, to ensure that no one could ambush them. They finally got to the door and she pressed her ear to it.

“It’s quiet.” She confirmed and he nodded.

“Move.” He said and she stepped out of the way, positioning herself to cover him as he crouched down to unlock the door. He appeared to have gotten a hold of a master hey. And as soon as the little light went from red to green they burst in and only to see Sally jump in surprise from her spot on the couch.

“Sally Taylor, we’re from the CIA. Don’t move a goddamned muscle or I’ll shoot.” Adam barked at her as she was about to reach for something under the cushion.

“Where’s Harry?” Y/N questioned through a shaky voice and Sally’s surprised face morphed into a grin.

“Holy fucking shit…” she said raising her hands up, the grin still on her face.

“Wipe that stupid fucking grin off of your face and tell me where he is.” She pressed, coming closer.

“Relax, darling. I didn’t kill your boyfriend.” She said and relief flooded through Y/N, “But it’ll kill him to find out that you’re with the fucking CIA.” She grinned and Y/N didn’t even bother sharing with her that he already knew, “That’s if someone else doesn’t find him and off him first.” She grinned and Y/N just about lost her shit and slapped the woman.

“Fuck you. You ruined his life and you-”

“Oh shut up you self-righteous little bitch.” Sally spat, “I made him who he is!”

“Both of you shut the fuck up!” Adam bellowed, “Now you’re going to tell us there to find Dominic Thomas?”

“Like hell I will.” She scoffed incredulously and Adam cocked his gun and put it at her forehead.

“Now, we’re not FBI, we’re not interpol, we’re fucking CIA. No one knows we’re here and we can do whatever the fuck we want to get what we need. So, let’s try this again, shall we?” He asked menacingly and Sally swallowed hard.

“He went down to the bar.” She whispered.

“Wasn’t so hard was it?” He asked with a smile, “You.” He said to Y/N, “Take down my number.” She pulled out her phone and saved what he told her as Adam cuffed her hands and then tossed her another pair of cuffs, “Now, cuff her feet and stay here. I’m gonna go get this other prick. Have your friends track down the Russian.” He ordered as Y/N cuffed Sally and she nodded. “I found you once before, don’t forget that.” He said and she nodded and soon he was hurrying off. Of course Sally didn’t say there was a camera somewhere behind her and that Alexei was more than likely watching all of this unfold. He wouldn’t care that she ratted out Dominic, he wanted his ass gone if possible and these two idiots were the perfect excuse to cut him off.

Y/N had no intention of calling Niall to have him and the guys find Alexei. She didn’t trust Adam, the CIA didn’t like to leave loose ends and she knew that if they came up with Alexei instead of their freedom they would probably get a bullet in their heads. She could count on Niall to get them all out without a fuss. Harry would hate him and her for it, but he couldn’t know.

“Why’s G.I. Joe threatening you?” Sally asked Y/N.

“None of your damn business.” She spat.

“Seems to me you crossed a line, Y/N…” She probed, “Harry isn’t the only one who’s got it bad, is he?” She grinned devilishly.

“Be quiet, I need to make a call.” She said with irritation as she dialed Niall.

**************

Harry was a frantic mess and Niall and Matt were trying to calm him, assuring him that they would find her. Axel and Liam were doing a search for Y/N.

“Are you sure she wasn’t in the penthouse?”

“No! She was in the fucking garage when I went up! No one else came up until Dominic did! He wasn’t beat up or anything. Whoever was here bled.”

“It could’ve been her who bled.” Niall reasoned and Harry looked pained at the thought.

“What if Alexei saw her and has her? He knows her, Niall! He could’ve seen her and asked his men to grab her.” Harry reasoned, “That seems more likely, they need to continue sweeping the garage.” He insisted.

“OK.” Niall nodded.

“So what should we do?” Matt asked, “Just sit around here?”

“We’re not just sitting around! We’re staying put in case she comes back!” Harry nearly shouted out of frustration.

“Shit, it’s her! It’s her!” Niall laughed in relief as he answered the phone and put it on speaker right away as Harry rushed over to him, “Y/N! Are you OK?” Niall asked right away.

“Yes, I’m alright.” She assured and Harry felt like he could breathe again.

“Baby, where are you?” Harry spoke and Y/N also felt the relief wash through her that he was alive, but her frustration grew that they were all together. This was going to be ten times harder now.

“Harry, thank god you’re alright. I thought something awful happened to you, baby. I’m so happy to hear your voice.” Her eyes welled up. She stepped away from Sally and towards the large balcony behind them, she was cuffed, hands and feet, she couldn’t go anywhere.

“I’m perfectly fine. Sally, she let me walk away, but warned me that others would try to take me out. We need to get out of her as soon as possible! We’ve packed your bag.” He said and she felt her heart drop and the lump in her throat grow triple in size.

“H, I- I can’t go with you.” She sighed softly and Harry frowned, looking to Niall and Matt.

“You’re talking mad. We need to go now.” He insisted, “Are you in trouble?”

“Tell us where you are, we’ll come get you.” Matt cut in and Y/N sighed.

“No. Please don’t come up.” She requested, “Listen carefully, someone is here for me and he’s helping me get Dominic and we’ve got Sally too. Legally.” She explained through her quiet tears, “He did say he would help me but in exchange for his help I need to turn myself in. I’m going voluntarily, they won’t do anything to me this way.” She shared and Harry quite literally felt like throwing up as she spoke these words. His eyes welled up with tears and his entire body radiated with pain.

“Baby-”

“Please, all of you need to go now. He asked me to have you lot find Alexei and bring him up but I’ve worked with the CIA, guys. I don’t trust him to fully keep his word that he just wants your help and will let you go. I promised myself that I would find a way to get you all out. This is the only way. Please, Harry. If you love me you’ll go.” She insisted.

“Not without you. We’ll come get you. We can be fast!”

“No! He’ll be back any minute and he will do whatever he needs to do to bring me in. I can’t risk any of you. I love you all so much. I love you most, H and I need you all safe! So please, go!” She urged before hanging up. No one knew what to say. Harry was nearly shaking with anger and frustration.

“Fucking shit!” He growled in anger.

“Harry, we need to listen to her.” Niall insisted and he looked to him with anger and hurt all over his face.

“How could you even say that?!”

“I trust her to do what’s right.” Niall defended.

“They’ll kill her.”

“They won’t! She said so herself, it’s better that she turn herself in and face the music than to run away. They found her once and they’ll find her again and the next time they won’t be willing to cut her a deal,H.”

“Matt?” Harry asked looking to his friend.

“I don’t know…” he sighed, “We can try to be quick, but if that guy comes back and sees us there then-”

“It’ll be four of us against one!” Harry reasoned.

“He’s practically a trained assassin!” Niall shouted, “Neither of us has ever had to pull a trigger, H!”

“We need to be quick then.” Harry said and Niall sighed, “She said don’t come up and that they got Sally, they must be in the penthouse.”

“Mate-”

“We’re fucking going!” He shouted before hurrying out of the room and Niall and Matt just followed along reluctantly.

**************

Y/N had sent Adam a text that he couldn’t get a hold of anyone and he responded that he’d gotten Dominic. He said that he’d pulled a gun on him and so he knocked Dominic out cold and was just getting him into the car now. Y/N sighed in relief that at least he’d gotten him, they could worry about Alexei later, he didn’t like getting his own hands dirty, so Harry would be safe for now. She was pacing back and forth, looking out at the city, waiting for Adam to come back in when she heard some footsteps behind her.

“Well if it isn’t Carolina.” She knew that voice anywhere and turned quickly to see Alexei with a gun casually in his hand. She glanced towards the chair just ten or so feet away where she had been sitting and where her own gun was resting, “Don’t even think about it.” He warned and Y/N glanced to Sally who was wearing a smug grin, “Hands behind your back and keep them there. You move, I shoot.” He cautioned her and she did as she was told. “You look shocked, Carolina.” He teased and she didn’t say anything and Sally glanced over at her.

“Cameras.” She responded and Y/N felt like an idiot. Of course there were cameras. He had been watching the whole time. She could still get out of this though, Adam was on his way up right now.

“Exactly Sally, cameras.” Alexei said to her with a smile which soon dropped, “Just like Dominic, you’re a coward.” Her smile faltered, “You warned Styles about the poison, it was written all over his face.” He berated and she looked worried now, “I don’t need someone like you as my second in command.” He belittled her and before another second even passed by his gun was aimed at her and he pulled the trigger. Y/N watched in complete shock as Sally’s head flew back with the impact and the bullet burrowed itself into the wall behind her.

Alexei was ruthless and her heart was pumping wildly as the adrenaline and fear started to course through her veins as she watched the blood start to pour from the fatal wound right in the center of Sally’s head. “You see how quick that was?” He asked looking to Y/N, “How fucking hard is it to just kill one fucking guy?!” He shouted angrily at the ceiling and then chuckled in amusement before looking at Y/N again. She swallowed hard as he approached her and grabbed her face with his free hand.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” She spat angrily and before she could do anything he had raised the gun and threw a blow right at her head making her fall to the ground. Her vision was hazy as he stood over her. Her head was throbbing and she could feel that blood was dripping from where the gun had crashed against her skull, “My partner is coming.” She gritted through the pain.

“And he will find you dead.” He said cocking the gun, “You played your part well, Y/N. But you’ve been compromised.” He said with a teasing tone and she frowned, “I could have had great use for you and your skills, but your loyalty is with someone else. With a murderer.”

“And you’re not the same thing?” She questioned and he raised his leg and kicked her hard in the ribs causing her to groan and gasp for air as she rolled onto her side.

“He killed my father!” He bellowed, “He was everything to me!” Alexei shouted in a rage and Y/N’s head was far too sensitive for his volume. She even felt some spit particles landing on her face from how close he was to her, “And for that he must pay.” He whispered angrily as she tried to catch her breath, ��Maybe I take away everything from him too.” He hummed menacingly as he aimed it right at her head.

“I didn’t kill your father.” Harry’s voice took over and Alexei turned quickly and despite her pain, Y/N pushed herself up to see Harry, Niall, and Matt. Harry had a gun aimed right at Alexei, “Luther, Dominic’s right hand man killed your father and said it was me. Dominic wanted all of the control and he betrayed your family. I’ve never killed anyone. We’ve never gotten our hands dirty like that.” Harry informed. Alexei’s serious face morphed into a grin.

“I can believe that about Dominic…” he said, “But I have spent so much of my life hating you, I can’t let that go to waste. And you,” he glanced down at Y/N briefly, “You have unraveled everything I’ve worked for, you deserve to pay.” He seethed.

“Don’t be stupid, Alexei.” Matt spoke up, “There’s three of us and there’s one of you. Back the fuck down.” He admonished and Alexei grinned.

“Or what? You’ll kill me.” He probed, “Because you’ve done it before?” He teased and Harry’s face morphed into one of anger, “You couldn’t pull the fucking trigger!” He laughed at Harry.

“Harry, don’t!” Y/N called out and his eyes shot down to Y/N, “Please, baby don’t let him get in your head. If you do this there’s no going back.” She cried out. She didn’t want him to compromise that part of him. The one thing he had managed to hold off of, it was nearly impossible in his world and he had made it work, “You’re too good for this.” She reminded. His hand was trembling as he aimed and Alexei grinned evilly.

“You’re a fucking pus-” he didn’t even finish his sentence before a loud bang had sounded and he was dropping on the ground beside Y/N. She glanced back over to the boys, all of them rubbing at their ears from the bang of the gun going off and Adam was pushing past them.

“Jesus, Y/N…” Adam said as he pulled her up, “He really fucked you up, didn’t he.” He pointed out, “You’ve been out a few months and you’re already this out of practice?”

“Shut up.” She grumbled.

“You’re gonna let her go.” Harry said, raising the gun back up and Adam turned to Harry.

“We have a deal, she’s wanted back in the U.S. dead or alive. Which way would you prefer?” He asked and Harry put his gun back down, “S’what I thought.” He spat.

“Can I say goodbye?” Y/N asked.

“No!” Adam scoffed.

“Please, Adam. I’m never going to see him again.” She said quietly, her eyes boring into his in a way that made his heart hurt for her, “You know what’s going to happen to me when I get back. You know what happens to rogues and traitors.” She said and Adam pressed his lips together for a moment.

“Fine. Three minutes. I’ll be in the hall.” He said quietly before stomping off and immediately Harry ran over to her and hugged her tight making her wince.

“Not so tight, think my ribs are broken.” She whined and Harry loosened his grip on her.

“Shit, I’m sorry baby.” He said before kissing her lips.

“I want you to be my last goodbye.” She said softly and he nodded, glancing back and Niall and Matt, signaling them over with his head. Niall hugged her tightly and Harry groaned.

“Be careful with her you twat!” He scolded as Y/N winced.

“Sorry, sorry.” He said softly. “What happens when you get there?”

“Federal prison.” She said and Niall chuckled but then he stopped when he saw the seriousness in her face, “I committed treason. I broke my oath, I went AWOL, aided and abetted criminals. They’ll probably interrogate me in…not pleasant ways,” she explained, “And when they realize I’m not lying about exposing national secrets they’ll throw me in prison for a few years anyway and if I’m lucky I’ll get cut a deal at some point to go back to being a field agent because I’m damn good at it until I retire.” She made up something that sounded believable and Niall nodded, but the way he was looking at her assured her that he knew that she was lying.

“Well send us a fucking postcard when you’re able to, yeah? Maybe we can meet up somewhere.” He smiled and she nodded, “You’re fucking badass and I’m going to miss you.” He said softly and she sniffled.

“I’m gonna miss you too.” She cried and he grabbed her face gently and kissed her forehead, “Take care of him for me.” she whispered quietly to him and he hummed a soft confirmation against her forehead before letting her go. Next Matt came up and hugged her gently around her shoulders, “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.” She whispered.

“It’s OK. This one was out of our hands.” He said softly before he pulled back and offered her a small smile which she returned.

“Say goodbye to Axel, Liam, Allan and Emma for me.”

“Of course.” He said and stepped away and then Niall and Matt started walking out of the penthouse to give them some privacy. It completely broke her heart when she heard Niall start to sob and Matt pulled him out quickly, making Harry and Y/N chuckle a bit.

“Didn’t know he was so attached to you.” Harry said.

“I didn’t either.” She said softly. She felt bad, she seemed to always burden Niall with the truth, but he was level headed when push came to shove and she needed someone like that to take care of Harry, “Listen, I don’t know how long it’ll be before I can get in touch, but I just…” she broke down as she thought of her words, “I just want you to be happy, baby. I don’t want you to feel pressured to hold on to something that may not even be possible-”

“Baby, it’s us. All I’ve ever wanted is us, what we have.”

“I know, H. I know.” She whimpered, “All I’m saying is that it’s OK to live your life. I don’t regret any of this because I know you’re free now. Free to spend time with your family, with Mitch, and Sarah, and the baby!” She whimpered and he cried as well, “You have your life back, it’s what I’ve wanted to give you from the start! You can do with it what you want.” She whispered through her tears, “I also left you a letter in my side table. I do want you to visit my family, OK?” He nodded, “I want them to meet you and I want them to know how extraordinary you are.” He cried harder at her words, “You’re brighter than the sun and I will never be the same after knowing you.” She kissed him tenderly, “I love you with everything I am.”

“I love you.” He sobbed before kissing her lips over and over. “Find me. Promise you’ll find me.” He said and she nodded.

“I will.” She whispered.

“Here.” He said, pulling off his cross pendant and placing it on her. “You can give it back when we meet again.” He said and she nodded through her tears.

“Alright, times up love birds.” Adam grumped as he came through the door, “Interpol was called about this so I’d get the fuck out of here, alright.” He informed Harry who nodded in understanding, “Also, your friend’s practically having an asthma attack from how hard he’s crying out in the hall. Maybe get him some medical attention.” Adam said and he and Y/N sputtered on a laugh before he kissed her one more time.

“I’ll see you again soon.” He stated confidently and Y/N smiled at him before she was dragged away. Harry didn’t lose his cool until the elevator doors shut with Adam and Y/N behind them and he just fell to his knees, his heart completely destroyed.

***********

They got into Adam’s car, the sedan that had been following her the week before. They were quiet as he pulled out of the parking garage and onto the street. It had been maybe 15 minutes of driving before Adam spoke up.

“Your boyfriend’s pretty naive for a drug dealer of his caliber.” He said and she giggled through her quiet tears.

“He’s just so optimistic.”

“Stupidly so.” Adam said and she sniffled.

“We need more people like that. People who see the good… he’s been through hell, that bitch Sally basically forced him in as a teenager. She threatened his family to keep him there and despite that he helped so many people get out. He got a twenty year old kid out from under Dominic in Boston, he was involved because he and his little sister were orphaned and he needed to make ends meet somehow. He gave him one of his homes out here.”

“That’s solid.” He said and she hummed.

“They’re all like that, those guys up there. Dragged into shitty circumstances and they’re making the best of it. None of them wanted to be there so I’m glad Sally and Alexei are dead, they’re free to live how they want to now.”

“Sucks you have to die for it though.” He mumbled and she swallowed the lump in her throat as her fingers reached up to play with the cross resting over her chest now.

“I would die a million times if it meant that they got their lives back.” She said softly before looking out the window. Something about that made Adam’s heart twist; they had been taught to compartmentalize and to be logical over emotional. The side of his brain that longed for justice beckoned him to realize that Y/N, no matter how against the book it was, had done the right thing and she too deserved to be free. Before he could think twice he made a sharp turn down a road and she winced as she hit into the door.

“Where are we going?” She asked as he took another turn down to the more dodgy side of town.

“I need to make a quick stop.” He said and she hummed. He then turned into an alley and braked harshly and put the car in park before stepping out and grabbing his phone. She jumped when she heard a gun shot ringing in her ears from the back of the car. She tried to turn back to see what was going on but then she was being dragged out of the car.

“What the hell!” She protested as she was rammed harshly into the wall.

“Listen to me, this is going to hurt like a bitch, but don’t you fucking move or you’ll bleed out.” Adam said. Her eyes widened in panic.

“Adam, no, no, no, no! Please-” she felt the shot knock the wind out of her before he slumped her down against the wall. Then the searing pain started and she wanted to curl in on herself. She felt like her insides were on fire as the ache started to sting and burn and pulse so intensely that she could hardly catch her breath. She started to curl up and was soon straightened out.

“What’d I say? Don’t fucking move, stay against the wall!” He scolded, “Listen carefully, Dominic’s dead, I will dispose of his body. I shot you above the hip at a downward angle, there’s an exit wound.” He said to her and his voice started going hazy as the pain increased, “Just stay exactly as you are. I already called the ambulance, they’ll be here in six minutes.” He said and she nodded, her eyes started to flutter closed as she tried to focus on his words instead of the pain, “When they ask you what happened it was a mugging. Say it back.”

“It was a mugging.” She wheezed.

“Now shut the fuck up.” He said and stood and dialed on his phone, “Director Whitney, she tried to run and fight my gun off of me and I shot her. No exit wound and there’s no body to find.” He said and Y/N glanced up at him, “Yes sir. Dominic Thomas is dead as well. He shot at me so I opened fire. Believe it or not Sally got shot by that Russian prick and he’s dead too. We’re a go to raid the warehouses in the east coast. Yes, sir.” He said before hanging up and he crouched down to her level, her breathing was shallow as she tried not to move as he had instructed and her tear-filled eyes met his own, “You deserve to be free too.” He said quietly before he stood and got in his car and took off. She started dozing off, not even bothering to stay awake as she heard the sirens approaching.

***********

Y/N’s eyes blinked open in a panic and she felt the cords attached to her and the pain radiating through her abdomen. Her throat felt dry and her head was pounding as she panicked. And then she started remembering what had happened, Adam had lied to the Director, he had let her off the hook. He had set her free. In seconds three nurses were rushing in to check on her. Pressing different buttons and flashing lights in her eyes assuring her everything would be alright. Finally one nurse spoke to her.

“What’s your name dear?” He asked her calmly.

“Y/N.” She croaked out. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N, do you recall asking for a Harry? A Harry Styles?”

“Harry?” She asked with more excitement and the nurse nodded.

“Yes, you kept asking for Harry Styles and the only number we found listed for that person was for a tattoo shop. Is that the Harry you were talking about?” Y/N nodded eagerly.

“He’s my boyfriend.” The man smiled at that.

“OK, thank god. He’s spent the night with some friends. He seemed really confused and we just needed to be sure that you actually had some relation to him before we just let him in.”

“He’s still here?” The man nodded and smiled.

“Please let him back.”

“Of course, dear.” He smiled before hurrying out.

***********

Harry and the boys were a mess in the waiting room. No one was telling him what had happened or who it was that had asked him to the hospital. The person didn’t have identification, but from the description they gave it had to be Y/N. He was praying to all the gods that somehow it was, but she had to be up in the sky on her way to America now. This person had been shot in Dalston, the dodgy end of town, it didn’t make any sense. He was clinging to any scrap of hope that it was her, but he wasn’t trying to be too optimistic.

Everyone was sore and tired form the awful positions they slept in. They’d been in since about 10pm and it was now creeping up on 7am according to his phone. Liam had gone and grabbed everyone some coffee and everyone else was just waiting around nervously for any news on what was going on. He was so zoned out that he didn’t even see one of the nurses come in until Axel kicked at his shoe gently and Harry shot up from his seat.

“Yes?”

“Her name’s Y/N.” The rest of the boys flew out of their seats and cheered in joy, jumping up and down, hugging each other and Harry’s eyes welled up with tears at the news. The nurse chuckled gleefully at their reactions.

“Oh thank fuck.” He sighed in relief and the man chuckled again.

“She’s asking for you.” He said to Harry who nodded and followed the man out. He was walking right beside him, “Right through there.” He said pointing to the door on the right hand side and Harry rushed in and bit his lip to suppress the scream he wanted to let out from how happy he was to see her.

“Harry!” Y/N cried as he rushed to her side and took her hands as he kissed her bandaged up head gently.

“I’m so happy to see you. I’m so happy it’s you.” He said before kissing her lips, “I love you, I love you. I love you.” He whispered over and over. After a few moments of this they had cried enough and he was wiping at her cheeks tenderly, “What happened?” He asked and she shrugged.

“I don’t know… I just know that Adam set me free for good.” She said and his brows creased in disbelief.

“Forever?”

“Forever, whatever we want to do, we can do that now.” She said and he smiled.

“Like move to Italy? And get married and have babies? Grow old even?” He asked tearfully and she giggled as she gabbed his face, nuzzling her nose close to his.

“Yeah baby, anything we want to do with our lives now is possible for us.” She hummed with a smile. "When do you think you can tattoo again?"

"Not sure." he smiled at her random change of subject, "Why?"

"Want a matching butterfly with you. Since we're both as free as can be now." she reasoned and he smiled wide.

"I love you so much, angel." he said happily, "So much." he hummed as he pressed another kiss to her forehead.

Prologue Pieces:

The Wedding** All About Family ^**

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