#*edits kitchen to bathroom for the tumblr post* i forgot that he was desperate for the toilet. GET OUTTA THE ROAD!!!!!!!!!!

[lunarharp]

drawrings

[lacrow]

SXF Collaboration Story

@nonokoko13 , @sxfobsessed , @nagy-bari

First off I’d like to apologize. Under my insane direction, this little ficlet has turned into a 12k behemoth. Therefore I will be positing it in two parts (and also linking to ao3 since I threw it in with my one-shot collection). I’ll add the link to Part II when it’s edit/posted. Thank you to everyone who helped come up with this idea, it was a lot of fun to write!

Title: Cabernet Makes Her Clothes Fall Off

Rating: T

Part I: ao3

Part II: tumblr, ao3

Parties Involved: Loid Forger, Yor-Briar Forger, Anya Forger, Bond, Franky, Yuri Briar, Becky Blackbell, Camilla, Dominic, Millie, Sharon Mission Objective(s): host a dinner party for friends and acquaintances, [INCOMPLETE] Reporting Status: [IN-PROGRESS] ADDENDUM 1 [NIGHTFALL]: After careful review of last night's mission report, it has come to my attention that Twilight's conduct has been highly inappropriate for that of a WISE agent. I recommend personnel changes be made for the ensured success of Operation Strix. ADDENDUM 2 [TWILIGHT]: Sorry, I forgot to save you leftovers. ADDENDUM 3 [NIGHTFALL]: That's not what I meant, and you know it. ADDENDUM 4 [HANDLER]: He's married. Also, thank you for the leftovers, they were delicious.

Part I

A cacophony of sounds emanated from the Forger house as Yor frantically tried to get things ready for what was sure to be a total disaster.

In just a few hours, guests would be arriving for an impromptu dinner party that she had no right organizing in the first place. It wasn't her call to make, not without consulting her husband first, but...she went and opened her big mouth anyway. Now she was suffering the consequences for it, and not just her, either. Yor looked up through the window above the kitchen sink as she desperately went about getting things ready for the evening's festivities. Loid and Anya stood by the door as they started to put their coats on. The latter had her school backpack on, though in lieu of books and pencils it was instead filled with a change of clothes and some toys.

"I'll be back soon to help set up," Loid called out to her. He went to gather his hat and gloves. "I already called the Blackbells' nanny and told them I can't stay long."

"Ok," Yor replied meekly. Half of her wanted to tell him not to rush. The other half desperately wished to ask the opposite of him. "Please be careful you two."

"Bye mama!" Anya looked over at Yor as Bond came up to sniff her goodbye. "Have fun with your party tonight!"

The Forger matriarch couldn't help but to frown. "You do the same at your friend Becky's...do everything her parents tell you, okay?"

"I will!" Anya replied back. She smiled brightly in anticipation at her upcoming sleepover, though it waned the longer she stared up at her mama.

Yor had no way of knowing her daughter was reading her mind. If she did, it wouldn't have made her feel as guilty when Anya suddenly ran around the corner and wrapped her arms around her leg in a tight embrace. That wasn't to say she didn't appreciate the gesture; if anything she desperately needed it at the moment. It's just that she assumed Anya's hug was less out of fondness and more out of pity, though in the end she accepted it all the same. Yor knelt down and pulled Anya in close as Loid waited by the door with a well-hidden smirk on his face.

"Love you," Anya smiled encouragingly, eyes closed in content.

"I love you, too," Yor teared up a little. She squeezed her daughter tight. "I'll see you tomorrow."

They held each other for a moment. Though she didn't want it to end, Yor ended up being the first to let go. She smiled at Anya before the little girl waved and skipped off towards the door. Already turning the knob to leave, Loid let their daughter out first before turning to his wife. He said nothing, but gave a small, comforting smile to her before exiting. She nodded as a silent thanks before watching him leave, and it soon became just her and Bond. The Forger hound sat there with his tail wagging, and he looked up at Yor with an expectant look on his face.

Yor glanced down at the dog and sighed. "Well, Bond...time to get back to work."

Bond said nothing back, as was to be expected.

/*\

"You're joking, right? Not even a housewarming party?"

A familiar face; the deadpan look of an unimpressed Camilla, though to Yor she seemed just as pleasant as ever. If only the poor girl knew what every other woman working at city hall knew, which was that Camilla loathed her with a(n admittedly waning) passion. No one had the heart to say anything though, which was mostly why they stayed silent as Yor revealed to them that she and Loid had never had a get-together at their house before. Individual people, of course, but never more than one person at a time.

"Er, well...no?" Yor's lips squiggled. Was that a bad thing?

"Really, Yor, you're hopeless!" Camilla shook her head, exasperated. "Don't you and your husband have any friends?"

Yor blinked. "Well, of course we do. You, for starters."

Camilla's jaw dropped as the other women snickered behind her. Yor continued. "And I suppose that includes Dominic, as well? Also Loid's friend Franky, and his co-worker Fiona, and-"

"-Alright, alright, I get it!" the blonde woman grumbled, waving Yor off. "Fine, you have friends. So why then haven't you hosted before?"

Yor frowned a little. She knew why; it was because Loid was always tired and she was terrible in the kitchen. If there was going to be party then he would have to do the cooking, and Yor didn't have the heart to ask that of him. Not when he had so much on his plate already (pun unintended). Still, Yor could see where Camilla was coming from. She had been nice enough to invite her over to a get-together at her house, while Loid and herself had never shown the same courtesy back. It was rude, and not to mention suspicious.

Couples invited people over for dinner, right? So then, what would people think if she and Loid never did?

The more Yor thought about it, the more she realized her attempts at playing house were falling short again. Yor looked up at Camilla, Millie, and Sharon, and all of a sudden she felt self-conscious. They seemed to be waiting for an answer that Yor couldn't give them, or at the very least one she refused to share; that her marriage was a sham and she didn't know the first thing about entertaining guests. It was the truth, but they weren't meant to know that. All Yor could do was think about what her husband would do in her situation. What would Loid's response be?

He'd make it happen. One way or another, he'd pull through like he always did.

"W-well," Yor stammered. She flinched a little. "Why don't you all come over this Saturday?"

The other women paused, most of all Camilla. The three of them threw glances at one another, suddenly finding the spotlight reversed on them. They seemed to have a wordless conversation amongst themselves, while at the same time Yor kicked herself for opening the door to her home like that without talking to Loid first. He liked his privacy just as much as she did, and the weekend was one of the few times he got to relax (and even then it wasn't guaranteed). Yor's head started to slowly spiral; what if he got called into work, or she suddenly had to take a contract-killing job on short notice? This was a bad idea. She had to rescind her offer, and fast-!

"-Do you want us to bring anything...?" Camilla asked reluctantly. It almost looked like it pained her to say it out loud, mostly because it did.

Yor froze. The worst case scenario had come to pass, even more so because she had brought it upon herself. She stood there as three pairs of eyes stared at her once more, only there was no going back this time. The window of opportunity for backing out had already passed, and the only thing Yor could do was try her best to swallow the quickly growing lump in her throat.

"...N-no," Yor shook her head. She gulped. "...My husband and I will cook something for dinner..."

/*\

"I'm a horrible wife," Yor lamented as she straightened out her white polka dot dress. "I never should have agreed to this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine, Yor," Loid eased. He closed the oven door and threw his mitt onto the stove top. He turned towards her. "There's no reason to beat yourself up."

Yor frowned. Loid sighed. They both looked to the clock on the wall next to them and immediately came to the same conclusion; their guests were fashionably late. A quarter past six and no one had shown up yet, but that ended up being more of blessing than anything else. Loid had gotten held up at the Blackbells' a little longer than expected, and Yor had only just barely finished cleaning by the time he made it home. She at least had it to where all he needed to do was fix up the casserole for later; the rest of their home, from the living room to the bathroom, was immaculately spotless.

"So remind me again who all is coming?" Loid asked uncomfortably as he looked back to the kitchen. He was fairly certain there was enough food, but...

"Well..." Yor thought for a moment. "The girls, so, Camilla, Millie, and Sharon. Dominic as well, and he of course told my brother so Yuri's coming, too. And also Fiona-?"

Loid shook his head. "She won't be coming. Something came up at work and she won't be able to make it."

Some hostage situation at the embassy, last he heard. Nothing Nightfall couldn't handle, though it'd certainly take her the whole night to sort through it all. Tragedy aside, it at least worked in favor of Loid's dinner planning. Along with some easy-to-make finger foods, there would be more than enough to keep everyone satisfied. On top of that, they'd rearranged the furniture in the living room to open it up a bit more. They had also moved the dining room table up against the wall, and Loid even got a hold of a couple breakfast nook chairs (courtesy of WISE) for the counter at the kitchen window.

This little shindig of theirs was turning into quite the gathering. Loid smiled a bit at the thought, even as Yor continued to look up at him in dismay. He had half a mind to reassure her some more, but knew it would only fall on deaf ears. Instead, he took it upon himself to leave her for a moment to go digging in the pantry. He fished out one of the cheap bottles of wine they'd gotten for the evening's festivities. Yor immediately held her hand up to protest, though karma had come full circle to spite her. She didn't listen to Loid. Therefore, neither would he listen to her.

A moment later and he arrived with a glass in his hand, filled halfway with blood-red courage. "Everything will be fine."

"I know..." Yor replied weakly as she took the wine glass from her husband. "...I just feel guilty for dragging you along with all this."

"Hey, we're a team," Loid reassured her. He smiled again, and Yor's face became flushed. "You just focus on enjoying yourself, and I promise it'll all work out."

For what felt like the first time that night, Yor gave a smile back. A small one, of course, since she still had a million things running through her head, but at the very least she gave Loid the response he was looking for. Yor closed her eyes and took a sip and, as if her husband had been right all along, there came a knock at the door immediately after. Yor paused; she quickly tried to swallow her wine in order to answer it properly, though Loid was already opening the door by the time she had composed herself.

They both figured it must have been Yuri (since he was usually quite punctual), but Loid's face fell flat as someone else came into view. "I hope I'm not late!"

Shaggy hair. Scraggly chin. A stature half that of Loid's; the man glowered. "Franky, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the party, of course!" Franky gave a stupid grin as he held up another bottle of wine. "I didn't get the invitation, but I figured you must've forgot!"

"...Right, of course," Loid's eyes narrowed. He continued to glare while Franky grinned. "Must have slipped my mind..."

Stiffly, Loid stepped back to allow his friend entry. He looked to Yor as Franky shuffled in, and he shuddered to think what an unaccounted for guest would mean for her party. Surprisingly, his wife seemed pleased at Franky's presence. She set her glass down and gave him a proper greeting, to which Franky did the same. He placed the bottle of wine on the counter after shedding his coat, and immediately made a b-line for the bathroom. The door shut behind him as he made his pit stop, leaving both Forgers alone again for a moment.

"I'm glad Franky could make it!" Yor smiled.

"Likewise," Loid added flatly. He shook his head in dismay.

"Next time I'll be sure to remind you to invite him," she added while grabbing his arm.

Loid relented with a smile to his wife, though the inside of his head was working overtime trying to sort through possible scenarios for the evening. It's not entirely that he didn't want Franky there (part of him truly didn't), but the less he mixed up Twilight's affairs with Loid Forger's the better. Not even taking into account just what a bad idea inviting an SSS agent into his home was, having Franky and Fiona there would have thrown a whole headache of problems into the equation. Nightfall could have handled herself well enough, but Franky...

He prayed to whatever god above that the little fool could behave himself. Just for one night.

All Loid could do was have a little faith, though that wasn't really his M.O. He'd try not to worry in the meantime, but would continue to keep an eye on Franky for the rest of the night. He eased up on the guy once he emerged out the bathroom and approached him and Yor for pleasant conversation; his initial terseness passed, and the three of them actually got on well enough for a time. For how long, specifically, Loid couldn't say. Before any of them knew it, there came another knock at the door. This time Yor was the one to answer.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Yor!" an impassioned voice cut through their home, and Loid knew right away it was Yuri. "I got held up at work and missed my train!"

"That's okay, Yuri, so is everyone else!" Yor smiled, and Loid did, too. She was letting the guest situation roll of her shoulders, which was good.

There was a shuffle at the door as both Briars came inside. Yor took her brother's hat and coat, and he smiled pleasantly at her in silent thanks. The moment his head swiveled in Loid's direction, however, that pleasantness quickly took a nosedive. Yor was none the wiser, of course, though Loid was more than aware of his brother-in-law's killer vibe. He smiled.

"It's good to see you again, Yuri!" Loid chimed politely. His smile grew as Yuri's turned even more.

"Loi-Loi," Yuri bowed his head stiffly in acknowledgement. Beside him, Franky cracked up at his friend's stupid nickname.

Yuri's eyes fixed on Loid and Yor's other guest. Likewise, Franky looked to Yuri. This was the first time either had met each other properly, though Franky was more than familiar with Yor's brother and his position as an SSS agent. Admittedly, it was a bit unnerving for Franky to be in his presence, especially with that...weird look he stared at him with. Loid had warned him about it multiple times; the dude was nuts about his sister. Him being friends with Loid probably didn't lend him any favors, so his opinion of him probably was at rock bottom at the moment.

Nowhere to go but up from there, right? "Hiya! The name's Franky, nice to meet you!"

Franky held his hand out to shake. Yuri glanced at it before looking back up. He offered no hand of his own.

"Yuri! Don't be rude!" Yor chastised her brother from behind. He cringed and glanced at her over his shoulder. "Franky's my friend, too!"

The Briar boy turned back around to find two smug smiles waiting for him; an obvious one from Franky, and a thinly-veiled one from Loid. Whether he noticed them or not, Yuri made no comment. He simply shook Franky's hand (reluctantly) and offered a halfhearted hello in reply. The two promptly separated and went their separate ways. Franky followed Loid into the kitchen while Yor stayed behind to talk more with her brother, and both groups kept up conversation for a time until another knock came at the door.

Camilla and Dominic. The pair entered, both carrying offerings for the party; a tray of enticing appetizers and another bottle of wine, respectively. The couple were met with multiple greetings and they offered their own before splitting up almost immediately. Loid showed Camilla into the kitchen while Dominic stayed behind to talk with Yuri. Franky joined everyone else in the living room, seeing as how there wasn't a lot of room in that tiny kitchen for three people. Besides, Loid didn't trust him in there, which was fair.

"Thank you for the food, but you really didn't have to go through all the trouble," Loid told Camilla as he dug into the cabinet for plates.

"Well, Dominic insisted we bring something, and it's a recipe I've been meaning to try out for a while now." She stood off to the side to stay out of his way.

"It smells great, can't wait to try it," Loid smiled pleasantly. A moment later and he procured the dinnerware. Camilla offered to take them into the living room for him.

Loid handed the plates off to her. Camilla turned to walk away, but paused as Loid spun around to gather his own appetizers. She shifted uncomfortably as she scanned him up and down; a nice dress shirt, perfectly sleeked hair, muscles, and an air of confidence that most men spent their whole lives pretending to have. Loid Forger had it all, and Camilla couldn't fathom just how in the hell Yor ever bagged such a hot husband in the first place. Seriously, how? It was downright frustrating just how perfect he seemed; the man could cook, raise a daughter, deal with Yor, and still seem nonchalant about everything. If she didn't know any better, Camilla would have said his and Yor's marriage was some kind of front for the mob or something. There was just no way...

"...Babe, you alright?" Dominic's head suddenly popped into the kitchen. "You're spacing."

Camilla jumped out of her skin and nearly dropped the tin, in no small part because she was caught red-handed thinking about Yor's husband. Luckily for her, Dominic didn't come to that conclusion. He smiled and waved her over and, after she shook herself out of it, Camilla followed him obediently towards the living room. The two of them dropped the food off on the dining room table on the way, which was joined by Loid's tin soon after. He stuck around to open some of the wine bottles, and Yor had half a mind to offer him help but ultimately decided against it. He was good at popping corks, and she would have honestly just gotten in the way.

Yuri, Camilla, and Dominic stood off to the side and chatted. Franky kept Yor company until Loid appeared a minute later, and the three of them sat gathered around the coffee table while they waited for the other guests to eventually arrive. So far, so good, Yor thought to herself as she scanned her apartment. Wine glass in hand, she let out a poorly hidden sigh of relief. At that point, Loid smirked. He must have been thinking the same thing she was, at least that's what Yor assumed. He leaned over the table to pat her shoulder comfortingly, and she flinched at his touch (out of habit) before quickly relaxing. Her husband was right; just enjoy the evening, and everything would work out fine.

She nodded to herself and took a sip of wine, and a small smile tugged at her lips soon after.

/*\

Millie and Sharon arrived stag together soon after. With Franky taking up the baton for Fiona, everyone Yor had invited ended up coming. Bond was promptly kenneled in Anya's room (with plenty of food, water, and a bone) and the party was in full swing. 

Loid started to drop off plates in front of people, and he couldn't help but be thankful that Handler had secretly requisitioned him the extra chairs. It was just enough for everyone to have a seat, though he distinctly remembered her shaking her head initially at his request. Not that she wouldn't do it, but more to do with the fact that he was going native, as she had so eloquently put it. A dinner party for his wife's friends? The higher-ups would rip them both a new one if they got wind that Twilight was blowing agency funds again over something stupid.

Regardless, she wrote it off as a business expense for an upcoming mission.

Handler always was a sucker for parties.

Loid just needed to save her some leftovers, which was easy enough. A couple missing appetizers and a suspiciously absent square of casserole were tucked safely away in his fridge for his boss. The spy game could get weird sometimes, and vicarious party attendance was just one of those things that agents did to keep themselves entertained during missions. Usually that involved going out of their way to secretly acquire a bottle from the bar to bring back to a safe house or finding out a way to smuggle out a whole chunk of wedding cake without being seen by the bride and groom. It was a stupid inside joke amongst spies; that being said, Loid was no stranger to it. He fully expected the same from Handler the next time she attended a party for a mission.

"Thank you, Loid!" Yor beamed up at him as he pulled up the chair next to her. All the plates had been delivered, and he held the last one in his hands as he sat down.

"Yes, thanks for cooking. It looks great," Sharon added politely across from them. At her side, Millie echoed the sentiment while trying hard not to eat without everyone else.

Loid nodded and waved off their praise. Meanwhile, Yuri grumbled from his spot against the wall. He of course wasn't about to afford his brother-in-law any good will, though Franky next to him had more than enough for the two of them. He stared down at the food in front of him with big eyes and watering mouth; it was by far the best looking thing he'd seen in a long time. He wasn't necessarily the healthiest eater at home. Mostly his pantry was filled with noodles, cereal, and the occasional box of macaroni. This was a downright feast.

There was only one thing missing, and he almost forgot it before digging in. He hadn't eaten anything all day so he'd abstained up until then, but now was definitely the time for a tall glass of wine. He swung down from his chair and shuffled into the kitchen as the rest of the party cut into their food and carried on in conversation. Nobody paid him any mind, save for one man whose head immediately shot over when he noticed a familiar bob of scruffy hair struggle to uncork another wine bottle. Loid quickly excused himself with no one the wiser.

"No drinking," he stated firmly as he came up behind Franky and lifted the bottle from his hands. The latter spun around incredulously.

"Excuse me?" Franky guffawed. He held his arms out to the side to accentuate just how insulted he was.

"Do you remember what happened the last time you drank at my house?" Loid replied flatly. His voice was hushed. Their conversation needed to be quiet.

Franky considered for a moment. He genuinely gave it some thought before slowly shaking his head. "Er...no?"

Loid pinched the bridge of his nose. "You nearly blew my cover, plus you convinced me to spend thousands of dalc on a castle rental for Anya!"

"Hey, that was your fault for listening to a drunk guy!" Franky shot back, which only caused Loid's eye to twitch in annoyance. "Also, what are you talking about?! Yor's drinking and she's way worse than I am!"

"I can handle my wife. I can't handle both of you," Loid shook his head like a father reprimanding his child.

"She's your fake wife!" Franky whispered back loudly. "I'm your best friend! You're really just going to cut me off like this?"

Loid leaned over his so-called best friend. Their height difference was on full display, and Franky gulped. "This whole party was Yor's idea! It's important to her, and I'm going to make sure it goes off without a hitch. If that means keeping you dry for an evening, then so be it!"

Twilight made a brief reappearance; those cold eyes he was known for were suddenly aimed directly at Franky, and they got his point across loud and clear. With a reluctant nod, Franky agreed to skip the booze. Loid soon eased and nodded back before leaving to return to the other guests. That just left Franky alone by himself with an open wine bottle and a half-full glass on the counter in front of him. He grimaced at the thought of pouring it back into the bottle, a social faux pas if there ever was one. Dumping it certainly wasn't an option, either. Franky was never one to waste a good drink, regardless of the situation.

The newly-sober intelligence agent put his brain to work and came up with a quick solution; if Loid thought so lowly of him at the moment, why not prove him wrong? He was trying to score points with Yor (probably, he really didn't know why Twilight cared in the first place), so maybe if he helped make sure she had a good time then that might make him back off a little. Yeah, that's it! He'd pour the rest of the wine and treat her to a glass, then...well, he'd think of the rest later! His first priority was to make sure Yor was liquored up. Can't have a good party without feeling good, of course!

It all made sense. At least, it did to Franky, anyway.

With a smug grin, he filled the remainder of the glass. The bottle glugged in his hand until there was nothing left, and he promptly disposed of it before carefully curling his fingers around the cabernet meant for Yor. He focused intently on the red liquid as he walked, staring down at it to make sure that none of it came splashing out. Franky narrowed his eyes and suffered full on tunnel vision; for all the years he and Twilight had known each other, also taking into account what a connoisseur the latter was, it was a downright shameful how little Franky knew about handling wine.

Anyone who had ever carried a glass before knew to look forward when they were walking, not down at their hand.

Nobody noticed him at first. He scooted into the open room and crept up while everyone was eating and talking. Yor had her back to the wall, and Loid's was towards him. All the better to surprise the Forgers with a kind gesture, Franky plotted. He let a sneer cut across his face as he arrived and cleared his throat, summoning his hosts' attention.

"Here you go, Yor!" Franky announced obnoxiously. All eyes turned towards him. He lifted his nose haughtily in the air. "I thought you might like a glass of wine-!"

-He suddenly stopped.

Not of his own volition, but because something had caught his foot and sent the rest of him reeling forward. Franky's eyes widened, and he looked down to find he'd tripped over one of Bond's stupid chew toys. He hadn't seen it before. It was too late to do anything about it. Already he was lurching towards Yor and Loid, and even if he caught himself from falling over there was no stopping the overflowing cup in his hands from spilling everywhere. Franky watched, captive, as cabernet rained over the one person Loid had done his damnedest to please that evening.

Yor sat helpless as her white polka dot dress suddenly splattered blood red. Warm liquid stained her and her clothes, and the rest of the party froze for a millisecond as what was happening still registered in their brains. Then, immediately after, Loid jumped up. Yuri and Dominic did so as well, while the women covered their mouths in disbelief. Yor stared down at herself in shock as her brother and husband clamored around her, though it was Dominic that ended up gathering all the available napkins to sop up whatever wine was left puddled around her.

Franky ultimately didn't fall. He caught himself at the last second, though he quickly wished he'd landed flat on his face and passed out from the trauma. At least then he could have been spared from Twilight's wrath; when Westalis' legendary agent quickly ascertained his wife was alright and promptly spun around, Franky could feel his soul being pulled out from his body. And the worst part about all that was, Loid wasn't alone. For the first, terrifying time, both he and Yuri seemed on the same wavelength. The two pierced through him with blood lust in their eyes. An SSS and WISE agent both teaming up to gut him; hell had certainly frozen over, and Franky felt the chill down to his bone.

"...Franky!" Loid menaced. He said nothing more. He didn't have to. The mere mention of his name alone was enough to make the agent quake in fear.

Yuri on the other hand was far more animated, though Dominic was at least on standby to forcibly reel him in. "How dare you spill wine all over my sister you q-tip-headed moron!"

"Hey now, it was an accident!" Dominic reasoned with a pained smile, even as Yuri tried to break free from his grip in order to pummel Franky's face into casserole.

"...H-he's right," Yor piped up reluctantly. Everyone suddenly got quiet and spun around to face her. "It's fine, you two. I'll just...have to rinse off in the shower real quick."

Loid paused. He looked at Yor to find her already standing up. She hid her face with a frown, and immediately Loid's heart sank. With a muted excuse me, she walked past Loid and the other guests on her way to the bathroom. The party watched in silence as she darted into the bathroom. No one made a peep, not until the door closed behind her; at that point, things picked back up exactly where they left off. Yuri went to rip Franky a new one. Dominic did damage control. Camilla and the girls mumbled to each other in hushed tones, and Loid was left standing there in the middle of it all. He stared at the bathroom, disheartened. He wanted to help, but knew there was nothing he could do at the moment besides keep the party going. He had to. For Yor's sake.

With a heavy sigh, he flipped on the switch once more. Back to being Loid Forger, the perfect family man.

With a fake smile and calm demeanor, he went about trying to put everyone at ease. Yuri was by the far the most difficult of the bunch to appease, but after much pandering (and an honest promise to kick Franky's ass later) Yor's brother finally calmed somewhat. He sat far off at the other end of the living room away from everyone else, and once he settled down the rest quickly followed. Conversation slowly picked back up, even more so once the sound of a shower being drawn came from the end of the hall. Yor was getting cleaned up. She'd be back at the party in no time, and the thought was enough to finally get things back in full swing. Franky was still the odd-man out, but Loid didn't care about that. The twerp.

New house rule, Twilight thought to himself as he went back into the kitchen to pour the ladies some more wine. No more WISE agents at social functions.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Three AM, Aching and Tender

A Jason Todd x reader oneshot

the title is a bit fucked, but my inspiration ran out, so here we are

warnings for a character getting triggered, and also SMUT

*edited because I added a tag and tumblr decided that meant it could delete the whole fucking post

***

Jason aches.

Aches. All over, everywhere. He aches, and he’s so, so tired. Standing in the dark hallway in front of his apartment door, he can almost feel the exhaustion enveloping him, a physical wave threatening to pull him under as he fights for lucidity. He’s got the achy sort of tired that comes from a mission, a deadening of senses that just spent hours of hyper-alert, of muscles that were overstretched and overused. Half his body seems to be twinging lightly, sending minor flashes of pain that glimmer faintly in his soup-slow brain that’s doing it’s damndest to focus up enough to unlock his fucking flat.

The weariness is so pronounced that he couldn’t be bothered to enter his apartment like a proper vigilante and had walked in the building’s front door. He isn’t too worried, it’s 3:15am and the streets outside are nearly deserted. Besides, Babs has alerts on all CCTV cameras two miles in every direction, she’d scrub the footage if any of them caught the Red Hood waltzing into a building like he lived there.

After digging through his pockets for a few seconds, Jason gets his keys out and unlocks his door, flicking on the living room light. He sets his rucksack on the floor by the kitchen island, running the zipper down and taking out the few sets of dirty clothes from the top of the bag, putting them aside to wash later. He’d packed light for the two-week job with Roy and Kory.

Frustration edges in on the exhaustion lightly fogging his mind as he thinks over the mission itself. The drug sting on Santa Prisca had taken out some major players, but on their way out Roy got hit by some trigger happy idiot. Jason and Kory had had to perform emergency first aid on the helicopter ride off the island. It was touch and go for a bit, but eventually they’d dug the bullets of out his shoulder and thigh, and Kory cauterized the wound with her powers. Jason was taping gauze over her handiwork not twenty minutes ago. Roy will end up with two new scars and nothing more, but it wasn’t exactly how Jason preferred to end his missions.

He sighs, trying to push the days’ events from his mind. Giving himself a shake, he starts stripping down, taking off his helmet and body armor and placing them on the countertop, a tarp he’d laid down keeping his kitchen clean. His guns and miscellaneous other weapons, knives and the occasional batarang, make their way onto the tarp as well. Once he’s down to his pants and undershirt he surveys the counter, wondering what he can get away with just wiping down with disinfectant and what he’s going to have to soak in bleach overnight. As he eyes a particularly grimy blade a noise makes his way out of his bedroom. He doesn’t have to guess at what it is, and sure enough you appear a moment later, wearing an overlarge t shirt and hair mussed from sleep.

He grunts in your direction, mood still black from Roy’s close call. “Hey. You didn’t have to get up.”

“S’okay.” You softly pad over and take a seat on one of the barstools ringing the island. Neither of you say anything for a bit, silence stretching comfortably as you watch him in that even way of yours while he cleans and puts away his gear.

It still makes him pause, seeing you in his kitchen like this. This isn’t the first time you’ve graced his apartment in the early morning hours, kitchen light flickering over your head. You’d stayed over a few times since Jason had started sort-of-dating you a month and a half ago. He had actually handed you the keys when he left for Santa Prisca, you had asked if you could crash at his place while your landlord fumigated your apartment. He knows you’ve been here for two weeks, and you seem comfortable enough in his space, but Jason doesn’t think he’ll get used to moments like these. To having you here, clock ticking low while you huddle up on his barstool, streetlights outside bouncing through the window and shining hazy light on your skin.

In the month and a half that he’s known you, you’ve proven soft and sweet. Can you really fit into the seedy grooves of his life? He’s admiring you while he cleans his fucking guns at three in the morning for chrissakes, do you really belong here? Stills of you in his apartment drift across his brain, he imagines you having breakfast here in the morning, cleaning your teeth in front of his bathroom mirror, laying in his bed with your head resting on his pillow. Can he really have you like this?

Six weeks since Tim introduced you, and Jason still feels uneasy with these moments of quietness stillness, of just being together. He likes spending time with you and he’s happy you’re seeing each other, but Jason feels like he’s missing a trick, here. Something isn’t right. Maybe that’s the problem, not whether you belong in his life at all. It’s that something’s out of place with the two of you, with your relationship, if he can call it that. You text back and forth often enough, you go on dates, you fuck, but something doesn’t sit well with him. Maybe it’s that, for all the time you spend together, neither of you have actually ponied up and admitted some real feelings. It’s almost as though you’re settling into a routine of a long relationship before you’ve put in any of the grunt work, before you’ve run the risk of being vulnerable with each other. The two of you are groping blindly in the dark, hoping the other person feels the same way but never reaching out to confirm it, only to be pleasantly surprised when you bump into each other, wordlessly. It’s setting his teeth on edge, because it’s pretty clear to him that he likes you, and quite a bit more than a lot. He’s not great with emotions, hasn’t been since the pit and even before that, but he’s getting the sense that this thing with you might be starting to brush up against something big. He just doesn’t know what to do about it.

“How’d the job go?” your voice is a murmur in the dim light. For all his misgivings about whether his life can fit someone like you, you’re still choosing to sit next to his vigilante gear with no comment. On your second date, you had dropped the bomb that you know about his nightlife, and for a split-second Jason had frozen, ready to wallop Tim for clueing you in, or at the very least ignore his calls for a few weeks. Before he could even open his mouth to deny it, you told him you’d figured it out from Tim’s schedule back in college. It didn’t take a genius to make the leap from Tim to Bruce Wayne and his brood.

Jason knows you’re hazy on the details about his death and then non-death, but he isn’t in any hurry to bring you up to speed. He’s quietly grateful that you haven’t pressed.

He sets a gun down, stifling a wince at the sight of blood on the muzzle. You know about his night gig and his methods, sure, but there’s a difference between knowing and seeing blood coating a deadly firearm. A quick glance in your direction reveals that you don’t seem disgusted or repelled at all. He’s not even sure you’ve noticed it, from where he stands it looks like you’re keeping your gaze on him. You’ve drawn your knee up to your chest and are resting your chin on it, eyes wide and open as you wrap your arms around your bent leg.

Jason takes a deep breath, thinking on how to answer your question about the mission. He wants to grunt his way out of this and into the shower so he can wash the day off him, but your sweet concern deserves at least a response. Squeezing his eyes shut, he says “the sting went okay, but on the way out Roy got hit in a few nasty places.” He hears you shift in your seat. “Oh no, is he alright?”

He starts to shrug a bit as he opens his eyes. “He’ll be okay, but performing emergency surgery while under fire was—”

The last word comes out clipped and awkward as Jason catches sight of the shirt you’re wearing. You’d brought your leg down to the chair, leaving your chest open. Now he can see the shirt properly, and his gut sinks as he realizes that it’s his, that it’s one of his old ones from before, one of the ones Dick gifted to him while he was still Robin, while he was still with Bruce. His body turns stiff as his eyes trace the faded Haley’s Circus logo. Jason remembers admiring it every time a teenage Dick Grayson wore it around the manor, remembers admiring the teenage Dick Grayson himself, and his throat goes tight. Memories of who Bruce used to be to him, of what he used to be to Bruce, flood his mind and he finds he aches in a different way, more urgent, as the past takes over.

“Jay?” you ask, and there’s no way you could have missed that, the way his body locked down. “Is everything okay?” You’re moving again, hands braced on the counter like you’re about to get up and go over to him, which is the last thing he wants right now.

He can feel old defense mechanisms whirring into place. “What are you wearing?” he says, voice curt, instead of answering.

“What?” You glance down at yourself. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to bring something to sleep in so I just—”

“Where did you get that shirt?” Somewhere in his brain Jason feels guilty for making you recoil like that, but it’s lost to the wash of anger that had welled up so suddenly.

“I—I found it in your drawer, I’m sor—”

“So you were snooping through my stuff?” What is he doing, what is he doing? He doesn’t care if you went through his fucking sock drawer, why can’t he stop lashing out at you? But he knows why. 

“No, of course I wasn’t snooping, I… I just,” you’re stammering in confusion. “I didn’t know the shirt was…I can go change if you want?” you offer, trying to placate him.

Jason takes a deep breath, trying desperately to get back in control of himself. He thought he was past this, he thought he was past turning into a crazed jackass any time Bruce pre...pre-Death came up, but apparently not.

“Jay?” You say quietly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he abruptly turns around, facing his back to you. “Just,” he manages to grunt out, “just give me a second.” This isn’t their fault, he hisses in his brain, they don’t deserve his temper. Flailing about, he finally remembers a breathing exercise Dick taught him years ago. Breathe in one two three four out one two three four five. In one two three four, out one two three four five. After about a minute or two, he feels in control again. 

“No,” he says out loud, turning around to face you again, anger leaving him in an exhale. “No, you don’t have to change.” The tired ache slowly creeps back in. “I’m sorry, doll, I shouldn’t’ve gotten angry at you, that wasn’t cool.”

“It’s okay,” you say after a moment. Your shoulders don’t relax from where they’re bunched up around your neck, though, and Jason wants to kick himself.

“Seriously,” he says instead. “You’re fine, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who was wrong for shouting at you.” He needs to make it clear to you that he knows he was out of line, and that there hopefully won’t be a repeat performance of this. “It’s not even about you, it’s just…” He sighs. “Dick gave me that shirt, before. When I was, you know…”

“Still with Bruce,” you supply for him. That was much nicer than ‘When I was still on life number one,’ which is what Jason had been thinking. “Oh, Jay, I’m so sorry, if I had known…” and the compassion in your gaze is so bright he almost wants to take a step back. “You couldn’t’ve,” he says instead, because of course it wasn’t your fault. “It just took me by surprise, is all.”

You nod. “I understand.” And you don’t, not really, but he appreciates the effort. "I can try to be more...aware of stuff like that, in the future."

And Jason wants to say 'don't worry about it,' but what comes out instead is "thank you."

After a few moments of silence, Jason picks up the dirty gun and gets back to work, glancing at you worriedly every few moments. Your eyes follow him for a while, bright and sharp, but eventually you stretch your arms over your head and leave the chair. Jason expects you to go back to bed, and half wonders whether he should offer to take the couch, especially after what just happened, but instead you step into the living room and sit on the sofa, legs stretched out over his coffee table.

Jason cleans and stows the rest of his gear, washes his hands, and wipes down the countertop for good measure before collapsing onto the couch next to you. You turn your head to look at him. Your hackles are still up, and Jason feels sick with himself. “Are you sure you’re okay, doll?” He asks. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, it’s okay, I promise.” You flash him a smile, quick and dry, but he notices some of the tension leave you. “So I, um,” you clear your throat, eyes darting away from his. “I really missed you, while you were away.” You hold his gaze then, drawing your lower lip into your mouth, which always drives him a little crazy.

He’s bad at this feelings stuff, he knows he is, which is why he surprises himself when the words “I really missed you, too,” roll off his tongue, easy as anything.

Your lips curve into another smile, syrup-slow this time. He’s momentarily stunned, and when you bring that smile closer to him and peck him on the lips, he has to remind himself to kiss back.

Jason thinks you’ll stop after a minute, and it surprises him when you don’t. Instead, you let a soft sight escape and tilt your head for a better angle, licking sweet into this mouth. He’s not complaining, Jason loves kissing you, so he follows your lead and brings a hand to your waist. You hum when he does, and press yourself closer to him, almost climbing into his lap. Jason’s never been one to miss an opportunity, so he grabs you by the hips and pulls you squarely onto his thighs.

The movement startles you enough that you break from his lips, panting slightly as you reorient yourself. “Hi,” you say, still catching your breath. “Hi,” he answers, then surges up slightly to kiss you again. It’s filthier this time, your breath coming fast as you wind your arms around his neck and start running your fingers through his hair. Jason loves it when you do this, loves feeling your small hands make their way over his scalp. Any remaining tiredness flees in the face of his slow-building arousal. How can he be tired when he’s got your ass in both hands?

When he squeezes lightly you exhale into his mouth and roll your hips against his. “Naughty, naughty,” he murmurs in your ear, smiling against it. “Don’t worry, I know how to make you feel good.”

Your triumphant smile catches him off-guard. “I know you do, baby,” you purr, placing your lips at the juncture of his neck.

His instincts ping lightly. You’re grinning like you’ve won something, or something has gone right. Jason thinks for a second, remembering your soft, too-innocent step out of the bedroom, hair perfectly out of place, at almost the exact moment he came home. This setup seems too good to be true, or at least unplanned. He reaches under your borrowed shirt and confirms his suspicions: you’re not wearing any underwear.

“You were after this the whole time, weren’t you?” You pull back and oh, your grin is wicked, lips cherry-red and glistening. In retaliation, Jason snakes a hand up your chest and pinches your left nipple, lightning-fast. The soft “oh!” you make in surprise is entirely worth it.

“This whole time, you just wanted to get in my pants?”

“Guilty.” There’s a smirk in your voice as you roll your hips again. “You don’t sound too upset about it,” you tease, and you must feel his hardening cock through his pants.

He’s not upset, but he can’t resist the opportunity to tease you a bit more. “That’s what the shirt was about, wasn’t it?” God, it’s so hard to make fun of you when you’re squirming in his lap. “You were trying to do that thing where you wear someone else’s clothing and they find it really sexy and all?”

You slow down there, stop rolling your hips. Shame coats your face as you direct your eyes at the floor. “Jay, I’m so sorry.”

Your shame doesn’t belong here, and Jason’s quick to ease it away. “It’s okay, doll.” He tugs the offending shirt off, tossing it carelessly to the side. “Besides, I happen to prefer you like this.”

You’re a sight to see. Completely naked, sitting pretty on his lap, and fixing him with a look he finds almost challenging. He wants to wipe it off, so he brings his left hand back to your breast, and this time his palm meets skin.

Your eyes flutter shut. “You ‘happen to prefer me like this,’ hmm?” you murmur, arching your back into his grip. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Oh, I think you can,” Jason says slyly, but you’re not listening, you’re too wrapped up in what his hands are up to. He loves it, loves touching you and knowing it’s driving you wild, so he gets his forefinger and thumb around your nipple and pinches lightly, how you like it. He looks up to see your eyes still shut. “Aren’t even looking at me, huh, princess? Can’t even look at me when I’m giving you what you want?” He mock sighs. “Is this it, then, you manipulate me into getting you off but then can’t even look at me while I’m touching you?”

You open your eyes and huff at him. “Yes, Jay, that’s it.”

He grins, and keeps going. “Is it that I’m piss ugly? That’s it, isn’t it, you don’t want to look at my fuck-ugly face?”

“I wish your fuck-ugly mouth would shut up,” you mutter.

“What was that?” Jason moves his hand back to your waist, and you pout at him. It looks so attractive on you.

“C’mon, Jay.” You yank at his hair. “You know you’re stupid hot,” and you’re right, he does know, but some of his scars are ugly and they tend to itch. But you know that, which is why your face softens. “You’re stupid hot, and it’s very distracting. Just shut up and kiss me, you’re being annoying.”

“Okay,” he says, easy, but instead of going for your lips he licks a stripe up your breast and closes his lips around your nipple, the right one this time. Your breath leaves you in a rush, and Jason thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard, but then your breathing comes back online a moment later. It’s punch-drunk and delicious, and gets to him in the best way. His cock is becoming harder and harder to ignore. A few seconds later and you’re making these small moans that are almost obscene, so he stays right where he is, with his hands alternating between giving your ass more attention and running up and down your back.

“Fuck, Jay,” you pant, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. “Knew it, knew you would make me feel so good.”

Something occurs to him, and he sucks lightly one last time before pulling back and licking his lips. “Did you touch yourself, doll? While I was gone? Did you make yourself come?”

He has his answer when you look down and bite your lip again. “No, I, um,” and the innocent act you’re pulling is completely ruined by the small smile you’re fighting to keep off your face, but Jason doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. “I wanted you to do it, so I saved it for you.”

Fuck. Fuck. Your words go straight to his groin. The only thing he can think to do is to roll his hips against yours. You meet him there, moving torturously slow against the blunt head of his cock that’s now painful against his zipper. That bit of pain makes it so, so good, and for a few minutes he just moves with you, enjoying the feel of your body against his. Soon, you start talking again. “Jay, Jason, please, touch me,” you beg, your voice going tight as he rolls his hips.

“Where? You have to tell me where, sweetheart,” he murmurs. You stay silent for a few seconds, and then—

“My cunt. My cunt, Jay, and my clit, please.”

You never talk like that, ever, and the filth coming out of your mouth sends electricity crackling through his brain. He immediately stands up, taking you with him. You shriek a bit at being suddenly airborne, then crowd even closer to his chest and start sucking a hickey on his neck. Thoughts hazy, Jason makes for his bedroom and deposits you on his bed.

You quickly collect yourself, stretching out and preening on his rumpled sheets. Jason decides he needs to be naked immediately, and busies himself shucking off his pants and underwear and tearing off his shirt. When he looks at you again, night air cool against his skin, he sees your hand moving between your legs.

Quick as a flash, he darts onto the bed, grabbing your hand with one of his own and placing himself squarely between your thighs. “No, no,” he chides you, pressing your hand into the mattress above your head. “Come on, doll, you’ve waited this long. Let me.” And he brings his free hand to your crotch, finding your clit and rubbing the pad of his index finger against it.

“God, finally,” you hiss, bucking your hips against his hand. He chuckles at that. “Love how impatient you are, love how slick your pussy is.”

You look him in the eye, then. “For you, Jay.”

Well, hell's bells.“For me,” he agrees, then neatly slides his index finger into you. “Ngh--!” He smiles at the aborted sound you make. Jason spends a few minutes here, moving his fingers in and out of you, enjoying the way you’re shivering under his touch. Eventually, your voice stops him.

“Fuck me, Jay,” you plead. “Fuck me with your cock.”

He growls, then reaches for his bedside table. Yanking open the drawer, he fishes out a condom, then backs up to open it and roll it on. When he looks back at you he sees your eyes are wide. “You sure you want to do this?” He asks, just to check in.

You nod, then scoot back so you’re flush against the pillows, laying flat on the bed. He moves back over you, coming to rest between your thighs again, one hand on the wall above the bed for support. You gasp as he slowly pushes into you, a bit at a time. “This okay?” He asks.

“No,” you say shortly, and then you hook your legs around his waist and drag yourself toward him, taking him inside entirely. He narrowly misses biting his own tongue as sparks fly behind his eyes. “Go faster,” you order him.

Jason looks down at you. “You’re six different kinds of crazy, doll,” he says, but he smiles in spite of himself, heeds you and starts thrusting, pulling out of you a bit only to fill you again as his hips snap against yours. “You like it,” you say. He can’t believe how good you feel, how tight you are around him.

“Yeah, I do.” And of course he does.

The two of you spend a few minutes trying to match each other’s pace, hips stuttering in the face of your fragmented concentration. Eventually, though, you’re moving together again, and every time you meet one of his strokes you start to make a low sound in the back of your throat. Jason a;ways makes sure to keep his eyes open when you're fucking, and he's had them trained on you from the start. He loves how you look stretched out below him, how your breasts jump lightly when he fucks into you, how your mouth is shaped into a perfect o with lust. It’s a heady feeling, knowing he can do this to you, and he feels almost drunk with it.

Not that the lust and desire is at all one-sided. Suddenly, your muscles squeeze tight around his cock and he almost loses his mind. Before he starts to go completely he reaches a hand between you and starts rubbing at your clit.

“Ah-ah!” you shout, hands moving to his shoulders. He barely registers the feeling of your fingernails biting into his skin, all he can think about is how good you feel and how he can make you feel good. He starts swiping a thumb across your clit every time his hips slam against yours, and the string of swear words you let out in response is delicious.

“Ff-fuck. Fuck, Jay, I’m going to come,” and suddenly you do, face scrunching up below him as you ride the crest of your orgasm. Your walls clamp down on him, and Jason thrusts once more, twice, three times, and then he follows you blissfully over the edge. For a few moments, the two of you keep still, panting together and staring sightlessly into the dark as you wait for the waves of pleasure to subside enough for you to surface. Eventually, Jason wakes up and out of himself to the feeling of you planting a kiss on his lips. He gives himself a shake, then kisses back eagerly. It’s sloppy, but you don’t seem to mind, pulling back after a few seconds to sigh contentedly. “Well,” you say, dragging your arms down his shoulders, “that was nice.”

“You’re being stingy, doll,” Jason berates you lightly, pulling out of you and removing the condom. “That was a few levels beyond ‘nice.’” He ties off the condom and drops it neatly in the trash, before rejoining you on his bed and pulling you to his chest. You waste no time snuggling against him, fitting your head into the hollow of his neck.

Jason feels brave, so he says “I’m really glad you’re here,” before dropping a light kiss to your hair.

You reach up to stroke along his forearm where it rests on your chest. “I’m really glad I’m here too. And, um, I’m really glad we’re together.” You tilt your head up at that, shy eyes peering up to gauge his reaction. It’s almost too easy to meet you halfway. “I am, too.” A beat, and then “does this mean I’m calling you my girlfriend now?”

You smile pleasantly at the ceiling. “I like that.” And Jason does, too.

[c-rankin93]

SHE'S NO YOU - Ch.9

A/N: I actually finished this sooner then I thought I would have and is half way through the next one.. so I thought I'd post it. I hope you enjoy my little twist. These next few chapters will be shorter because I won't be merging the chapters anymore. I only did that so you could find out quicker about the Rae and Finn divorce reasons. But this is where the story gets... heated? And like all my tumblr work, it's not edited :) -- CHAPTER NINE: WHAT DO WE DO NOW? -- RAE POV: I broke away from the kiss reluctantly. I still didn't feel good about doing this behind Gregory's back. "Finn, we have to stop. I'm still with Greg" I didn't want to detach, but I couldn't bare the thought of hurting someone like Greg. "Who cares about him. You know I didn't cheat on you... You can come back to me, we- we can be a family again". If only it was that simple. I had been with Greg almost a year, and in that time he has help me with my children, spoilt me, and done nothing but treat me with dignity. I didn't ask him to do it, he just did. As much as I still loved Finn, I also had a place in my heart for Gregory. I respected him as a man, and he deserved more then this. "Finn, it's not that simple" I sighed. I knew this was going to be difficult to explain. "Then tell me why is what were doing wrong? We were together 12 years Rae" Finn stood confused. I didn't blame him, I too didn't have a clue what clog was turning in which direction. My brain was a mess. "Almost two years ago he walked into my office. He was late for our meeting by 12 minutes and looked disheveled. I, of course berated him about his tardiness the moment I saw him, but he didn't seem to care. You see, the night before our meeting he got nervous. So nervous he decided it would be a good idea to drink his body weight in vodka to calm himself. He woke up late, with a massive hangover, and by the time he reached the office he forgot the excuse he used to be able to see me..." Finn just stood still, intently listening to my story. He didn't give away any emotion. I pressed on, desperate to finish. "A week before I had met him at Izzy's bakery. I was a mess, our divorce was just finalised, but he didn't seem to care. So, we had talked a little whilst I was waiting for Izzy to finish her shift. We had parted ways with only a first name and an occupation known about each other. Out of the thousands of people in New York City he found me. It was the first time I had laughed since leaving you when he told me that story. I cancelled the rest of my day and he took me to lunch as friends. After he got cleaned up. So you can understand why I can't just break his heart. We were good friends for a year before it progressed. I know what it feels like to get hurt, and I can't do that to him". He probably won't understand what I'm trying to say, but he will have to except it. I need to think about what I'm doing, and what I'm risking. Greg and I had a weird kind of relationship, but I can't deny the man knows how to adore someone. "Do you want to be with him?" Finn croaked the words that I didn't want to hear. "I don't know what I want to do, but I don't want to hurt anyone" I admitted truthfully. "Your hurting me, right now. You're killing me". "I'm not trying to hurt you Finn. Believe me that's the last thing I want to do. But until I figure out what's going on in my head, we can't do this". I pointed to our close proximity. He looked devastated. I thought he would be mad, maybe yell and scream at me but he didn't. Instead he smiled softly. It was barely there, but it told me he understood what I was saying. "I can't say that I agree with your decision, but I'll respect it. I will do everything in my power to make this right Rae. Everyone that did you wrong will pay I promise you that, and you wont be able to stop me". And I didn't want too. I could care less about the repercussions those people will be going through. Knowing Finn it won't be pretty. "I understand and I won't ask questions" I smiled. I'm glad that we have come to an agreement. We are parents first, then we sort out everything else. "What's the time?" He suddenly asked. I looked at the clock on the wall to see that it was 7pm. The kids where meant to be home now. "Shit Finn it's already 7pm". "Crap! Atchie said that he was going to bring the kidsc around if I was not back by 6.30, but I don't even think I gave him your address". Finn pulled out his phone, and cussed under his breath whilst he rebooted it. The phone went crazy with messages. One after the other, they started flowing in. I was started to panic. I hoped everything was alright. "Its alright most of them are from Patricia. She's basically having a one sided conversation with herself" he sneared putting his phone to his ear. "Hey! I'm so sorry I forgot I turned my phone off before coming here. Are Ruby and Joshua alright?" He smiled a little and turned to face me. Finn help up a finger, telling me he'll be a minute. "Yup, ha! Well tell him I said no, the game is way to violent for him. Ben shouldn't even be playing that shit in front of him the dick... Haha very funny... Ohkay I'll let her know and get her to call you... tell them we love them and that I'll see them soon... Ohkay, see you tomorrow" I listened to Finn phone conversation slightly confused. "They're at Archie's house, Ben is currently playing C.O.D in front of our naive son- who now wants the game. They have a set of uniforms each and are happy to have them overnight and take them to school. But if you don't want them to stay Ben is happy to drop them off tonight". I panicked slightly. Joshua and Ruby were a nightmare in the morning and I didn't know if Archie and Ben could handle them, plus Sophie. I guess my eyes said a thousand words because Finn rested his hand on my shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles. "They will be Ohkay Amelia" The words were simple but I believed them. Even though I didn't like them out on a school night, I nodded. I had to let them loose sometimes, experience their crazy families. They can't always be coddled by me. "Ohkay. They can stay, just make sure Sophie doesn't take to long having a shower. She tends to think she's the headlining act at Madison Square Garden when showering, so she gets a bit side tracked". Finn's eyes sparkled in delight before the roaring sound of his laughter filled the air. It was contagious, I couldn't help but join mimicking one of Ruby's favourite moves. "Yes I know, I stood at the bathroom door the other week listening to her do an acapella version of One Direction. I banged on the door for 10 minutes" Finn laughed trying to catch his breath. Our children were characters. But I wouldn't have it any other way. "So what are you going to do tonight?" Finn asked suddenly. He seemed to have recovered fast from his laughing fit. "Uh- I don't really know. I'm thinking about calling in sick tomorrow if I'm honest. I'm pretty intent of having a movie marathon or something tonight" I walked over to my phone on the kitchen counter. The battery had died, so I quickly put it on the charger and sent Chloe a quick text. I may have extended the truth a bit, but in the 3 years not once have I taken a day off. I worked my ass off, and Chloe knew that better then anyone else. So why not live a little. I mean, I just found out that I divorced my husband for no reason. Pitty party for one coming right up. "Can i join you tonight?" What? Was he seriously asking to stay here.. With me? "Finn.. That doesn't sound like a good idea" I sighed. I was scared we would cross those boundaries again. I had already cheated on Greg once before, maybe even more if you counted the kisses Finn and I had shared. I felt guilty enough as it was, imagine the devastation he would feel to see us alone- naked. "Just hear me out Rae. I promise I won't kiss you, touch you- anything. I will just be your friend. I really don't want to go home to the women that destroyed everything I've ever cared about. If I see her now I'll be sent to jail". His eyes pleaded for me to understand, and I did. I wouldn't want to see Olivia right now. She was out of her mind if she though her stupid secret would be hidden forever. She didn't even try to hide her tracks. Everything pointed to her. "Ohkay! But you can sleep in Josh's room or on the couch and do not steal all my popcorn! It's bad enough I usually have the kids eating it all, I don't need you to do it as well". I was glad that we were finally something more then enemies. I didn't exactly know what to call us, but we were talking so that was a start. Where will it go from here? I didn't know. I know that I first had to work out if I truly wanted to stay with Gregory. Whether it was Greg or Finn, Someone was getting hurt and for my sake I hope it wasn't me. "Deal. But I get to choose what movie we watch first.." "Deal". - UNKNOWN POV: The temptation to bite the apple was too strong and the sweet aftertaste only made me stay. The feeling and emotions I experienced that night were overpowering. It triggered a memory so sweet I couldn't stop, even if I tried. Beleive me i tried, my inner self failed to pull my body back, away from the deceit, it was impossible. I couldn't think or feel anything past that moment right there. I felt love. The way we ravished each other, tearing each other apart in the process. It didn't matter that there was alcohol flowing in our systems, it didn't waver our judgement at that time. We wanted each other, on that bed until the sun shone brightly in the sky Sunday morning. Naked, sweaty and absolutely exhausted. And we did just that, but instead we followed through to late afternoon. The moment we separated for showers the guilt kicked in. Me, of course first. It didn't matter how many times I scrubbed my body, I just didn't feel clean. I cheated on the one I loved, the one I feel madly in love with. I fucked up. The repercussions were going to be lethal, my world will fall apart. For one night- that as much as I feel guilty about don't regret. That night was something I would never be able to forget. It felt different to the previous times we had cuddled under the sheets. It was more mature. Maybe because we were. Little did I know that the repercussions for that night would shake my foundations more then i could of ever imagined. People's lives were about to change, starting with me. --- So who do you think the unknown pov was by? --- If you want to be tagged please let me know :) @lily-pop-2 @mmfdfanfic @milllott @hey1tskat1e @l88cym @i-dream-of-emus @arathewallflower @milymargot @tinakegg @eveerez @lurkernolonger @luly310