#Beacon's Closet Back View

[sylviadarquebrite]

[eupheme]

— looking back

joel miller x f!reader

rated e - 2.2k

tags: jackson-era Joel pov, angst, canon-typical violence/references to death, established relationship, Joel is an ass man, consensual somno elements, posessive!joel, body worship, dirty talk, male masturbation, spitting, touching, come marking

a/n: easing back into writing and started 2 little wips that are sort of "introspective-joel-pov-smut-fics" - here is the first one! 💕

“Fuck. I need you.” He rasps - an edge to his voice, “Would you let me look at you, honey? Just let me look.”

Or - Joel gets off just from the sight of you

He’s strung as tight as a bow. The lingering adrenaline a notched arrow, leaving him about to snap. Blood seeps into his jeans - splattered across his knees, where he had jerked the knife from the man’s neck.

It had been a mercy killing. A stranger, but they had all seen the bite. He had been the only one to do something about it.

He’s told others that you get used to it. The killing - that after a while, survival wins out.

You get over it.

But you don’t. Instead, it clings to him like a shadow, following him home - down the worn, familiar path. Inside the gates, back to Jackson.

Heavier than it’s been before. An itching beneath his skin. If he was over it, he wouldn’t have to turn himself off. Shutting away a part of himself, only to fight to come back - clawing his way out later.

An aching reminder at how short life could be. That yes, things were different - but he was never really safe.

Not really.

His path brings him to you. A beacon, guiding his way back.

His - your - home coming into view, just as the dawn creeps over the fall, wooden fences. The misty grey brightening into gold and pink with the sun, as he’s unlocking the wooden door, shouldering it open.

A look thrown out the window as he scrubs his hand clean in the kitchen - seeing that the garage light is on. That she’s home, that she’s okay. An automatic check, before his weary feet take him upstairs.

Joel sheds the layers, the jacket thrown over the railing at the top of the stairs. Fingers fumbling with his belt, pulling the worn leather through the loops before his stained jeans crumple on the floor, as he pushes the cracked door open.

The light from the hallway stretches across the wooden floor, creeping into the dark room. Where you still lay sleeping, curled on your side within the blankets and sheets. Missing him in your dreams, that space next to you long empty.

Cold - where your fingers reach out, searching for him.

His path diverts, moving to you instead of the attached bathroom. The edge of the bed sinking under his weight, a soft sound as you stir.

“‘Welcome ‘ome.” You murmur, still half-asleep. A little wiggle as your bent knee hitches higher, the oversized shirt you’re wearing bunching up around your hips.

He reaches out, just the ghosting of his fingers against the soft skin near your knee. The fluttering of heavy lashes as you fight sleep, only to be pulled under again.

Joel’s hand shifts. A warm palm pressing against your thigh. Against soft skin, so different than his own calloused touch.

Home.

It is, isn’t it? As close to he’s had in years. Decades. The old apartment in the QZ had never felt that way, not with the faded floral walls. Those small rooms that still held ghosts.

But here, his own touch lingers. Yours, melding with it. It would never be like before - the picking out of furniture, of paint. But it’s his clothes in the closet. His worn guitar that rests against the couch. His wooden carvings lining the top of the mantle, above the fireplace.

And you - you're scattered throughout. Woven blankets and thick sweaters. Books, covering damn near every surface.

A little bottle of found lotion tucked away in the bathroom. He can smell it now, as he leans over you. A bristly kiss pressed against your cheek, the curve of your shoulder.

Amber, vanilla, caramel.

He’s pulled back to the memory, the light shining in your eyes when he handed the beaten bottle over. The minuscule amount you had worked into your knuckles - the soft sigh of contentment.

A bright laugh when he had pulled you close, the murmured “smells good” against your throat, as you had squirmed in his grasp - smiling as you read the fragrance notes out loud.

Something stirs in him, then. The press of his thigh against yours, as he leans over. Eyes dragging down to the bare curve of your ass, his hand tracing cup your thigh to palm your flesh.

His already uneven breath hitching, as you sigh. That little smile - his name - murmured out as you rock instinctively into his touch. Still on the edge of consciousness, lulled off into a deep sleep with the cooling of summer.

Waking you up wouldn’t be unusual. Half the time you’re already up after these early-morning patrols. Waiting for him.

How he waits for you, on those few days where it’s you out there, instead of him. His jaw working with irritation until you’re home and back and safe, and he’s stripping your clothes from you himself.

It’s selfish to wake you, on a morning where you sleep so deeply. Even with the stress that’s eating at him, simmering in his veins.

But maybe… maybe he can just-

Joel is leaning, his mouth against your neck. A shift as you stretch, baring your skin to him as your lips curl in a smile. A soft, sleepy hum as you reach for him, fingers curving over the thick muscle of his forearm.

The hand on your ass drifting up - across to the small of your back. Meeting nothing but warm, bared skin beneath your shirt.

“Fuck. I need you.” He rasps - an edge to his voice, “Would you let me look at you, honey? Just let me look.”

Heavy-lidded eyes open then at the sound of his voice - his words - as you tilt your head. A slow sweep over the breadth of his shoulders, the curve of his stomach. The spread of his thighs as he kneels behind you. The already half-hard tent of faded boxers.

You had been waiting for him. Anticipating his return, eager for his touch. The cloud of sleep begins to clear as he palms himself, the bed shifting as your hips shift, thighs spreading open for him.

“I can take care of you,” Your voice is scratchy - husky, in the early morning. A hand pressing again on your back as you begin to roll over, holding you in place.

“You already are,” Joel groans, as your hips tilt up, off the bed. Knees pressing into the mattress as he nudges your thighs wider, fitting between them, “Stay just like that, alright?”

The combination feels erotic. His smell on the shirt you wear. The tingling throb between your thighs, the desire in his voice. How much he wants - enough that just the sight of you has him hard, thumbs catching on the waistband of his boxers to free himself.

You relax into the bed, as you watch. The weight of his hand as it moves to squeeze your ass. A pressure as he tugs, opening you up.

“Fuck.”

Joel spits in his palm, before it’s wrapping around his cock. A rough groan as some of that need is eased, with the sharp stroke of his fist.

Just letting himself look. Admire.

A sight that is only his, fingers sinking into soft flesh. The way you trust, how effected you are already - the shallow rock of your hips as the sound of skin-on-skin fills the room.

“You got a pretty little pussy, honey.” He hears himself saying. Watching how you clench at his praise, the little gasp that follows. “Pretty little holes. All for me, right?”

He can feel the weight of your gaze. Darkening, as your hunger grows low in your belly. Darting between his face and the sharp flick of his wrist.

Rarely getting to see him take, like this. Usually he would have been buried in you, by now. There’s the urge to ask, but there’s a power in this - wanting to watch him get off to you. Not having to lift a finger to do so.

“All for you.” You sigh, “Always.”

His jaw grits, teeth clicking together. A bead of precum joins the slick of his spit, that angry fire in his belly transforming.

So different that the little mouse he had taken to bed, all those months ago. Your hands covering your mouth, muffling the moans, until he had pried them away. Pinning them against the pillows, whispering filth in your ear.

Now, he can see the greed in your eyes. The way you glisten, when his own gaze drops. The shift of your thighs as he takes a second to rub himself against the curve of your ass. Dipping down to press against your core.

The tip coming back slick, in a new kind of way - fueling the pressure, building in his belly.

Your moan breaks the early-morning quiet. His name on your lips again - more urgent than before.

The little beg only sends him closer, a rough groan in his throat. His own hand too familiar - used to the quick and precise touch he needs to get off, when he had to.

In the before. In the during - when it was only words that the you of you had exchanged. Heated looks that lingered late into those lonely nights.

Hasn’t felt the urge to, since he’s had you.

He expects you to ask him to fill you, eyes caught on the enticing lift of your hips.

Caught off-guard for the briefest second, a heat flushing over his cheeks, when you shift beneath him instead. Flipping over, onto your back.

Eyes bright, teeth sinking into your lip as you smile.

“Wanna watch.” You admit, and that tension in his shoulders settles in his chest, turning sweet.

His fist tightening around his cock, as your thighs splay over his. Opening yourself up under his gaze, stretching out in front of him.

And fuck, what a sight. There’s a rolling wave deep in his core that he chases with the rock of his hips.

His hand fits perfectly against the curve of your waist, eyes caught on the way your fingers catch on the hem of your shirt.

Pulling it up over your breasts, a path that his eyes follow greedily.

“Christ, darlin’.” The words rumble in his chest.

A rough exhale as your own gaze drops to his fist. The pace that he’s picked up - the peek of the flushed tip when he strokes down to the base.

Already about to burst, like he’s a man half his age. Could say it’s just his own touch, the urge to relieve the weight of his stress.

But he knows it’s more. That warmth in his chest, a tenderness that has only softened the rough stone of his heart since he’s left Boston.

It’s there in the way that he could linger on the slick place between your thighs. But instead he’s watching you watch him. Focusing on the part of your lips, the shine in your eyes.

“‘m close.” Joel breathes, his words low. Rough. “Where do you want it?”

He’ll catch it in his palm if he needs to. If it helps you go back to sleep, after. He hasn’t given up on that wish - to let you drift off for a little longer.

The look you give him, the little smile that turns mischievous, has his stomach twisting into knots. Like butterflies, he thinks.

Your hand drifts down, knuckles brushing over the jerk of his. Soft fingers tracing over hot, swollen flesh. Only to curve over your mound, to spread yourself open for him.

“Fuck.” He breathes, again, “There?”

The answering hum is low, desperate.

“Wanna hear you ask me.” Joel pushes - needing to hear you say it, knowing it will push him over the edge.

You squirm beneath him, affected by the edge to his voice, the soft command.

“Want you to come on me.”

“Where, baby?” The word slides from his lips without thought.

The eye contact breaks, your gaze darting away with embarrassment. But after a moment it’s back - the soft heave of your breasts as you suck in a breath, steeling your nerves.

“Want you to come on my pussy, Joel.”

He can’t help the rough groan, ripped from his chest. The shift of his thighs as he pulls back, as that pressure builds. The pleasure surging instead of ebbing, as he tips his cock downward.

The next stroke of his fist pushes him past the threshold. Relief sings in his veins as he spills across your mound. Painting your abdomen with his release, eyes fluttering closed as his hearing goes fuzzy.

Drowning out his long moan, as you push yourself up. He meets you instinctually, arcing over you as his mouth is drawn to yours.

As his spend drips down the crease of your thigh, so warm against soft skin.

It feels like a weight is lifted, like he’s back in his own skin again. Relaxing into the fingers that scratch into his hair, the tongue that sweeps against his.

But it’s only a few moments before he remembers. Coming back to himself, as he fits his hand between your thighs.

Fingers dragging through his release, bringing his slick fingers to circle against your clit.

Because there’s no way you’re going back to sleep after this. Not if he knows you - which he’s now certain that he does.

"Thank you honey." He murmurs, with lips that press against your cheek.

The smallest smile after, as your own part with a moan - as he croons against your skin.

"Now let me take care of you."

thank you for reading! was excited to explore a little idea I had 💕

(tags: @celestianstars)

[planet-mabel]

book thief - niall horan

an: hellooo!!!! i was reading at the beach and could not get this idea out of my head so HERE WE ARE!! i hope you enjoy :) I'm cooking up part two right now

summary: a trip to bora bora leads to bumping into niall horan by the pool and accidentally swapping books!

wc: 1.8k

what i was listening to:

As I disembark from the plane, weary from the long flight and craving a good meal, I step into the Bora Bora airport. I've treated myself to a solo stay at a delightful resort here for the week, and the anticipation of this moment has been a beacon of joy during my busy days back in NYC. I yearn for some well-deserved relaxation, as the incessant bustle of New York's streets and blaring car horns can be overwhelming at times. As I make my way towards the baggage claim area, I take a moment to savor the view from the airport windows. Though it's just a glimpse, I can see fragments of swaying palm trees, and a sense of tranquility washes over me. Leaning against the baggage trolley, I pause, eagerly awaiting the familiar "beep" that signals the arrival of our luggage.

I catch sight of my obnoxious purple suitcase as it comes around the conveyor belt and quickly snatch it before heading over to the shuttle bus waiting to take me to the resort. After stowing my suitcase in the overhead compartment, I sink into the luxurious seat on the bus. While waiting for the other passengers to board, I take a moment to text my friends and family to let them know I've arrived. The bus engine roars to life as we set off down the road. I glance up from my phone and out of the window, cranking up the music in my headphones. I take in the beautiful scenery as we wind our way toward the resort. Looking around at my fellow passengers, I notice that they are all families and couples. A faint feeling of loneliness creeps in as I realize I'm traveling alone.

I let out a deep sigh, gazing out of the window at the serene, azure skies and the gentle, rhythmic dance of the palm trees swaying in the breeze, attempting to distract myself from the overwhelming sense of isolation.

As the shuttle comes to a stop at the resort, the passengers begin to disembark, and I patiently wait for my turn. Once off the shuttle, I make my way to the front desk with my bags, eagerly anticipating some rest and relaxation in my room. I provide my name and reservation to the woman at the front desk, and the concierge swiftly arranges for my bags to be taken up to my room. The humidity of the Polynesian air causes my t-shirt to cling to my skin as I wait. 

While the woman prepares my room key, I glance at a man nearby who is also checking in. His accent intrigues me, and I find myself admiring his appearance. I'm momentarily lost in thought until the woman's clearing of her throat brings me back to the present. After receiving the room key, I exchange a tight smile with the woman and mutter a quiet 'thank you.' As I head towards the elevator, I briefly meet the man's gaze before pressing the button and entering the elevator. I select the third floor, my hand tightening around the room key as the elevator ascends.

I stumble into my room, weary from the day's travel, and collapse onto the plush duvet covering the bed. Propping myself up on my elbows, I take in the surroundings. The TV faces the foot of the bed, and a familiar mini fridge rests beneath it. To the side, a closet is built into the wall, and opposite that, a sleek desk catches my eye. Across from the entrance, a sliding glass door beckons me to venture out onto the petite balcony. I rise to my feet and make my way to the small mezzanine, stepping outside to be embraced by a balmy breeze and a mesmerizing vista. I pause, closing my eyes, letting the scenery wash over me.

After re-entering the room, I gently closed the door and made my way to the luxurious en suite bathroom. I marveled at the elegant plumbing and the spacious, extravagant shower. I couldn't help but let out a whistle of admiration, feeling impressed by the lavish amenities, almost forgetting that I had only booked this place for a week but paid the equivalent of a month's rent.

I let out a contented sigh and realized that I deserved to unwind by the pool for the rest of the day. Without bothering to unpack, I quickly slip into the first bikini I lay my eyes on - a vibrant, eye-catching pink one. After ensuring that I'm thoroughly coated in sunscreen and throwing on a comfortable t-shirt for extra coverage, I grab my purse and the book I've been meaning to read. As I make my way out, I return to the elevator and descend back down to the lobby.

I hurry downstairs and make a beeline for the pool, scanning for an unoccupied, plush reclining chair. As soon as I find one, I eagerly lay down my belongings beside it, exhaling contentedly. After slipping on my sunglasses and discarding my t-shirt, I settle back, flipping through the pages of my book to pick up where I left off during the plane ride. The book in my hands is 'Violet Bent Backwards over the Grass' by Lana Del Rey. It may seem a bit unexpected for a beach trip, but I have a fondness for poetry and adore Lana Del Rey, so I thought it was worth a chance. Immersing myself back into the pages, I lose track of time, captured by the words on the pages.

I slowly rise from my lounge chair, feeling the stickiness on my back from the sun's rays. Deciding it's time to take a break from tanning, I toss my book onto my chair and head towards the glistening pool to cool off. As I settle by the water's edge, I take in the mesmerizing sight of the swirling pool while dipping my toes into the refreshing water. Surprisingly, the area is deserted, giving me the perfect opportunity to submerge myself in the pool. I resurface, gently wiping my eyes before reclining on my back and savoring a tranquil moment, finding relief from the intense heat of the island air.

I emerge from the water, climbing the steps in the shallow end. The droplets slide off my glistening skin as I make my way to my chair. As I approach, I notice a man sitting in the chair next to mine. I recognize him as the guy I saw in the lobby, engrossed in a book. I glance around at the empty seats on the pool deck, wondering why he chose the one next to me, and furrow my brow in mild irritation. Despite my annoyance, I take a moment to study his appearance. His unkempt brown hair and pointed nose catch my attention, as does the way his scruffy stubble complements his deep blue eyes. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I finally reach for my towel. I clear my throat to catch his attention and he looks up from his book, smiling softly. He gestures to the book in his hand and I immediately clock it as ‘Violet Bent Backwards over the Grass', the same one I’m reading. I glance down at my chair in search of my copy, not completely sure he didn’t swipe mine. I clear my throat to capture his attention before speaking.

"Excuse me?" I managed to pipe up, my voice a blend of nervousness and amusement. "I think that might be my book." With my towel wrapped tightly around me, I glanced down at him. He met my gaze and then looked down at the book in his hands before responding.

"Oops, my mistake," he chuckled and handed the book back to me. "I noticed it here and thought someone must have left it behind. The title seemed intriguing." I reclaimed the book and settled back into my chair. "I didn't even realize you were here, geez. If I had known, I wouldn't have sat so close." His over-apologetic tone made me chuckle softly.

"No, it's okay. I'm traveling alone, so I appreciate the company," I assured him, readjusting in my seat. "Have you read it? It's a good book, isn't it?" I say enthusiastically as I glance back at him, thumbing through the pages again. He nods before replying.

"Absolutely! I can't resist a well-crafted poem," he responds with a nod, gesturing toward the book of poems resting on the arm of his lounge chair. I let out a soft chuckle in response. 

"Ah, cool. Nice to meet another poetry enthusiast," I say with a smile before returning my attention to my book. I sense his persistent gaze on me before he speaks again.

"You mentioned you're traveling alone?" he inquires. "So am I." I look up from my book, slightly puzzled. 

"You? Why's that?" I ask, marking my place in the book and placing it on my lap. 

"You first," he counter-challenges. 

I shrug before responding, "Just needed a break. New York can be overwhelming at times, and none of my friends were up for splurging on a vacation," I explain, gesturing dramatically. "So, here I am, flying solo." I give a somewhat forced grin, and he chuckles. 

"Same here," he remarks, leaning back in his beach chair. "You mentioned New York City? Sounds exciting," he comments. I nod slightly.

"Yeah, mostly. How about you?" I inquired, curious to confirm my suspicion about his distinct accent. 

"Dublin," he declares proudly. "Dublin, Ireland." I raise an eyebrow. 

"So that's where the accent comes from," I remark slowly, raising an eyebrow. 

"I don't have an accent; you have an accent," he retorts playfully, feigning a scowl, which elicits a soft giggle from me. He grins at me, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

"Well, I should head back to my room. The chlorine always does weird things to my hair," I say with a soft chuckle as I pick up my bag and wrap my towel around my waist. He sits up in his beach chair to look at me.

"Hey, let me buy you a drink later," he suggests, gazing up at me. I take in his shirtless form reclining on the chair in front of me and for a moment, I struggle to find my words.

"Um, well, okay," I say hesitantly before regaining my composure. "Yes, that sounds good." I offer a soft smile, trying to conceal my unease. 

He nods and continues, "I'll see you at eight at the hotel bar." He stands up and I nod in response. 

an"I'll see you, book thief," before giving a small chuckle and walking from the pool deck back into the lobby. As I leisurely make my way back to the door, I hear his quiet laughter echoing behind me. A grin spreads across my face, and in that moment, I feel as lighthearted and carefree as I did in my teenage years.

[ezrisdax-archive]

fic ideas I had for things but never finished or started properly (also a lot of these I came up with with other people):

b7

fake dating au

accidentally got married au

 mutual pining whoops we're sleeping together anyway

ace attorney au

 seven as the one in shattered instead of chakotay au with maquis!b'elanna in janeways spot

future fic from naomi point of view about her gay aunts

dragon age au with warden!b'elanna and morrigan!seven

kes stays and is sick of them flirting and locks them in a closet au

 the coffee shop au I never finished which became a whole world anyway

 help desk support b'elanna dealing with ext 709 on the phone every day

hades game au

stuck on the holodeck and have to act the parts out to get out

utena au

xena au

troisha

expanding on the au I had where alternate reality tasha ended up in prime timeline instead of going to the past

xena au

roommates at starfleet au which I think I may have also done? so like...a different better one

 tasha didn’t die but ended up in some limbo form and deanna keeps seeing her as a ghost

kiradax (either dax)

reverse au with ezri as the dax host before jadzia and jadzia in season seven

mass effect au with asari!jadzia and human!kira

dragon age au with hawke!jadzia and mage!kira

au where kira stays on ds9 at the end of season six and is able to get to jadzia in time to save her but jadzia has to leave for trill for healing for a while and they write each other

chlodine

time loop au where they're looking for atlantis and whoops its got a funky artifact that has nadine looping

au where they meet much much sooner

office au where nadine is night security and chloe works late and keeps forgetting her badge and breaking in

wilenko

the au where one of them gets the beacon instead of shep

winter soldier cerberus au where they show up instead of sheps clone in ME3 or take kai lengs place in ME3

tim hortons vs starbucks au in niagra falls listen I'm canadian

stargate au

grissom academy instructor kaidan but ash on the normandy still

 pacific rim au

star wars au with clone soldier ash and jedi kaidan

vetryder

never went to andromeda au and ryders dig site needs supplies and she finds vetra

the typical au where sara isn't the pathfinder but calls dibs when she wakes up and meets vetra anyway

were dating pre andromeda but vetra thought ryder died when the hyperion didn't show up

misc star trek

seven/ezri where seven ends up on ds9 by the borg attacking the defiant and them getting seven from it look it wasn't fully fleshed out

divided we fall rewrite (ezri/lenara)

on an away mission together leading to fake dating (joann/keyla)

the kes stays on voyager, tom leaves au with kes, harry, b’elanna, and seven shenanigans (gen)

ezri and harry bffs serving on captain geordi's ship (gen)

misc

 ichiban time loop au (yakuza, gen)

au where korra doesn't fully get her memory back in season two but thinks her and asami are dating (lok, korrasami)

seong-hui keeps texting saeko and this leads to a relationship (yakuza, seong-hui/saeko)

tifa finds aerith at shinra hq where she’s been locked up for a while (ffvii, aerith/tifa)

tifa dead all along based on the latest trailer and technically a ghost but aerith drags her back to living anyway (ffvii, aerith/tifa)

rei begs susato to dress up again to get out of dating other guys (ace attorney, susahao)

franmaya star trek au with romulan/vulcan fran and trill maya (ace attorney, franmaya)

[lailyn]

A Prince's Ransom

Summary: Loki is over a thousand years old. Why he still keeps getting kidnapped is anyone's guess.

Contains spoilers for Thor: Love & Thunder

Patrolling New Asgard at night was a task Loki no longer dreaded. He coveted the silence, and the peace of mind that it promised. 

“I do not need sleep,” he had said to Thor, when his brother expressed his doubt about the soundness of the plan. Loki had proposed several security measures before, but this was the first one Thor had not passed tout de suite. 

“Night patrol is a thing of the past, surely?" Thor asked uneasily. "Don’t the people of Earth use electronic things now? Security cameras and such?”

“A great supplementary tool but surveillance does not ensure safety,” Loki argued. “Most of our soldiers died when Asgard fell. It is now down to us to make sure that the people are safe.”

“It’s alright, Your Majesty,” Valkyrie said. “The prince and I can take turns.” 

Loki opened his mouth to protest, but Valkyrie silenced him with a look. 

“The night isn’t yours alone, my Prince. You can’t hoard the shadows and not be challenged.”

It was a compromise that finally met Thor’s approval, and Loki was no fool so as to look the gift horse in the mouth. The bad feeling plaguing him lately had long since reached a crescendo and it was a win that came just in time. 

 ________________________

“The moon is hiding tonight,” Valkyrie warned some nights later when it was Loki’s turn to patrol. 

“I took down a steppe bison once with my bare hands,” Loki said absently. “Beasts don’t scare me.”

“No shit,” Valkyrie deadpanned. “But do be extra cautious, my Prince.”

“I’ll make sure all my pieces remain intact till the morning, my Lady.”

“Good. Makes the clean-up easier for the rest of us,” Valkyrie retorted. 

Loki laughed silently, acknowledging the concern nonetheless. “Sleep well, Val."

________________________

Valkyrie may be a closet worrywart, but it did not nullify her point. The woods surrounding New Asgard were still largely unexplored and Midgardian predators were known to lurk and prowl in the night. 

The newly constructed promenade along the shoreline was plain-looking but the view of the sea at night more than made up for it. 

Valkyrie was right. The moon was nowhere to be seen.

Loki inhaled deeply. It was something he never quite knew how to put into words, the smell of danger. How close or far, he could not tell. 

He raised his face to the heavens, ever more aware of his troubled thoughts. Whatever it was coming for them, would it come tonight? How? Who?

The darkness, a friend to him at other times, was his enemy tonight.

Without delay, Loki conjured a mage light, a beacon so bright it illuminated the entire plaza. He scrutinised the mostly darkened apartment windows and hoped he had not disturbed anyone’s sleep. 

Now the only shadows he needed to worry about were the many, many nooks and crannies in New Asgard his magic and light could not reach; he looked up at the rows of dark windows again with fear.

“I’m afraid that won’t be enough,” a voice suddenly whispered in his ear, “Did nobody ever tell you about the shadow on your back?”

Before Loki could turn, something sharp pierced between shoulder blades. In a split-second, all breath left his lungs, as did his magic, a turbulent vortex that drained out of the hole in his back like water.

Damn, was Loki’s last coherent thought before everything went black.

_______________________

When Loki came to, he found himself in total darkness and trussed up against a wall. He struggled against the binding, but there was nothing physical to rip, no hinge to tear apart. 

He fought for calm. 

Wherever this place was, there was still air to breathe. He was still alive. 

“Why am I not dead?”

No answer came. 

Was he the only occupant in this prison?

Loki closed his eyes and concentrated. Testing the strength of the bonds holding him was imperative. There must be a way he could reach his magic, some means of escape at his disposal. 

A low chuckle came from somewhere in the Darkness. 

Loki paid it no mind. He must not give the fear a name, no more power over him than it already possessed. 

Over the centuries he had shifted into countless nocturnal animals, and hence, honed his skills to such a selective extent that he could call upon their night vision at will. 

Loki reopened his eyes slowly. His vision adjusted.

His lips curled into a savage smile. “I see you.”

The hooded figure was seated a few feet away from him, as silent as a statue. It might as well be one; no scent emanated from it, no evidence of life or death. 

Loki’s composure slipped at the sight of the long, black sword it was holding in its hand.

No. He sagged in his invisible chains, feeling the strength leave him and all hope. No, no, no. 

The creature broke into a grotesque grin, his mouth a great, big slash across his cadaverous face. “So you require no introduction."

“What is it you want?”

“Straight to the point. I like that in a god,” he drawled. “Why prolong the inevitable?”

“You kept me alive for a reason. Let us have it and be done with all this bother.”

“I kept you alive for only one reason.” His captor's eyes glinted with glee. “Your brother’s axe.” 

Loki tsk-tsked. "You are a fool if you think my brother would pay such a high price for me.”

"You sell yourself too short, Prince." The figure rose to its full height. "I have eyes in the shadows and right now, your brother is beside himself. Soon, Stormbreaker will be mine, and I will open the gateway to Eternity!"

"Eternity?" Loki burst out laughing. "He would sooner have your head than let you lay a finger on his precious axe."

"Oh, he would, would he?" 

A flash of silver, and suddenly, something ice-cold and razor sharp pressed against Loki's neck. "We'll see."

 ________________________

The last image of Gorr holding the Necrosword against Loki’s neck froze in the empty space above their heads as the boy’s golden eyes turned brown and he bowed his head in regret. “I’m afraid that is as far as I can see, Your Majesty.” 

“You have done enough, Axl Heimdallson,” Thor said gruffly. “Thank you.”

“Where are you going?” Valkyrie demanded.

Thor said nothing. Blue began to envelop Stormbreaker’s handle with the summoning of his powers.

“Thor!” Valkyrie jumped to her feet.

"He has Loki!" Thor bellowed. "You would have me do nothing?"

"I did not say that."

Thor’s jaw tightened. "He has my brother, Valkyrie."

"And we will go to him," Valkyrie said firmly. "Once we have a plan."

“To hell with plans,” and Thor disappeared in an eruption of colours and energy.

“Thor, you fool!” Valkyrie cursed into the void where the King once stood. “Axl, can you try and reach them again?”

________________________

“Thor, you fool,” Loki cursed. “Why did you come?”

Thor ignored his brother. “Let him go. It is not him you want.”

The creature cocked its head. “Oh? And how would you know what I want?”

Thor shrugged. “It’s not that hard to figure out. It is in your name, the God Butcher. It sounds awful by the way.”

“Ah. So you have heard of me.”

“News gets around. It’s a bit hard to ignore when gods are being slain all across the universe,” Thor said, putting a hand on one hip. “But this is a bit below the belt, don’t you think? I mean, kidnapping? That’s so…old-fashioned.”

“If it works, it works,” Gorr grinned. “The axe, or your brother’s head.”

“Don’t give it to him, Thor,” Loki said tightly. “You must not let him reach Eternity.”

“I know what I’m doing, Loki,” Thor said. 

He took a step forward and offered Stormbreaker by the haft. “Come and take it.”

Using Loki as a shield in front of him, Gorr moved closer, but the moment he came within a throw's span, Thor withdrew his arm and flung the Stormbreaker in a wide arc. 

The magic axe flew around Gorr’s unprotected back in a circle and would have cleaved him in two, had the God Butcher not swivelled in time to block it in its path with the Necrosword. 

With a resounding clang, Stormbreaker bounced off the obsidian blade and landed on the ground some twenty yards away.

The backlash had Loki thrown face first into the dirt, slipping his captor’s grasp for a split second, but once more, his own shadow betrayed him. Before he could make a run for it, a thousand hands pushed him from the Darkness below, and into Gorr’s clutches again.

“You are going to pay for that, Odinson!” Gorr raged, spittle flying from his fissured lips, dark and thick like clotting blood. He raised his sword high above their heads. “I’ll give him a quick, clean death!”

Thor's eyes met his brother's in panic, "Stop!"

A cackle. "Too late," and the God Butcher plunged the Necrosword into Loki's heart.

________________________

"Noooo!!!" 

A thunderous roar shattered the silence of the Shadow Realm.

Gorr watched the God of Thunder sink to his knees and bow his head. 

Gorr understood grief. He understood it very well.

"All Gods must die, Thor," he reasoned with a gentleness that had been absent before. "It is written."

"Yes…" the corpse in his arms spoke. "But not today."

"What?" 

Loki's hands shot forward and wrapped around the hilt of the sword. With a hard, strong tug, the Trickster God pulled the blade in deeper, piercing his back and skewering Gorr straight through the chest. 

His mouth forming a perfect circle of horror and disbelief, Gorr the God Butcher, Keeper of the Shadows, disintegrated into dust. 

The Necrosword fell to the ground with a clang as Loki's double followed suit shortly, evanescing out of existence. 

"This is just a suggestion but maybe tone down the drama next time, Thor?"

Thor turned his head slowly. "That was a close call, Brother."

"Was it?" Loki purred. "After all these years, you still doubt me."

"I thought he had not released you for long enough. You really had me fooled."

"It was close, but I do have eight more lives to spare."

The slinky black cat emerged from the shadows and pawed its way onto Thor's lap. 

Thor buried his face into Loki's sleek fur and Loki let him. This was the only form he felt comfortable enough in to be held this way.

"Okay, that's enough," Loki declared a few seconds later. 

Thor looked his brother who was now back in his normal Asgardian form, up and down. "Any lasting damage?"

"I'm good," Loki said reassuringly. 

Then his face brightened. "Hey, since we're already here, wanna knock on Eternity's door?"

"Don't even think about it, Loki." Thor tightened his grip around Stormbreaker and around his brother both, just in case. "I should get you home before Valkyrie finds a way to murder us by long-range magic."

"All the more reason to do it," Loki cajoled. "I know what Valkyrie would want."

"Everyone knows what Valkyrie wants," Thor said. "A lifetime supply of - "

"Booze," Loki joined, and the brothers shared a warm, rare chuckle. 

Meanwhile,

"I heard that!" Valkyrie shouted into the air a million miles away in faraway New Asgard.

"They can't hear you, my Lady."

"Shut up, Axl."

[youmissedone]

Ada had become so familiar with his apartment, to the point where her belongings littered the place. She left her makeup in his bathroom along with perfume, lotions, shampoo, and conditioner. A few nail polishes in varying shades of red, her signature color, sat next to them in the bathroom. A stack of books she’d finished with a bookmark near the end lay neatly piled on top of his nightstand along with lavish silver jewelry coiled into itself. Her shoes and clothing mixed into his closet so that no matter what, he was surrounded by her belongings. She never stuck around, though, which made the times she did show up even more special.

No one had to know what they did in their free time, so they weren’t technically breaking any rules. Ada didn’t want Carlos to get in trouble for falling for her when she’d had her own role in the relationship, so keeping it private was for the good of them both. Still, she wondered what his allies, friends, and bosses would’ve thought of the whole situation.

“I’m surprised they let you out of their sight.” Ada hummed her acknowledgment. Carlos’ train of thought was amusing, to be certain, but they both wanted each other, so she didn’t really care. “But then, I guess I shouldn’t be. You always did like to play the hero. Carlos Oliveira, the savior and protector of lost, helpless, innocent women.” She cocked an eyebrow at him, almost waiting for him to challenge her. They knew each other too well at this point. “They told me you were dead, you know.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, then. If I waited for you to make the first move, we’d be here all night,” she said. There was some irony to what she just said, considering they’d always been on opposite sides, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She grinned widely at him, tilting her head just so. “What type of perks? Please, enlighten me.” She rolled her eyes as Carlos called her a good luck charm. Ada certainly didn’t believe that, but if he did, who was she to take that from him? After all, she viewed him as a pure, kind beacon of hope in her life, and that wasn’t the whole truth either.

The distance between them was comfortable for her, sure, but deep down, Ada found herself wishing Carlos would come closer to her. No, she mentally chided, it’s better this way. Do you want to make things more complicated or not? These little escapades are the only way this can work. He’s not yours to lose, and he never will be.

“Being a gentleman? Is that what you’d call it? The festival dates back to the Han Dynasty, and women were expected to show their skills. Particularly in needlepoint, but other things too. Maybe I wanted to show all the tricks in my arsenal.” Ada grinned at him, smoothing out her dress. These moments were few and far between, yet they always seemed to find time for each other. She wanted to kiss him again, but she held back. “Maybe you should get a cat. You’d be keeping better company.”

Ada watched him listen to her story, choosing to ignore his compliments on her cooking. He was clearly invested, which made her heart sing inside her chest. It wasn’t a story she’d tried to tell before because she didn’t think many people would find it terribly interesting. The holiday itself was a minor one, so she was doing a bit more than most people did to celebrate, but then, it was the apocalypse. Ada had to celebrate the little things, and what better person to celebrate with than the man she loved best?

“Zhinǚ is a lucky woman,” she mused, choosing each word very carefully. Carlos had definitely caught onto the parallels, but then, so had she. “She gets to see the love of her life every day.” She nodded when he thanked her for sharing her culture with him, and she blushed a bit.

Ada knew that whatever Carlos was doing nowadays, he had many allies. Wesker had discouraged her from interacting with him for that reason in particular, though the intel he had was weak at best. She wasn’t sure if he was involved with the DSO, the BSAA, or another organization entirely, and she’d stopped trying to guess. Claire Redfield and Jill Valentine were both better people than she could ever be, and though she knew her jealousy was both unwarranted and petty, it resonated in her chest. Why was he saving himself for her, of all people?

“Do you say that to all the girls?” she teased. “A part of me thought you’d be angry with me for just showing up like this, but we both know better than that. I suppose I should ask, since it is tradition… if you wanted to go stargazing, we could do that, or…” Ada blinked back tears. The first night they were free to be together since the Spain incident, yet even then, they could never really be together. Not while she worked for awful, cruel, greedy, selfish people who wanted to accelerate the world’s end. How did Carlos see past that? How did he genuinely believe she was a good person with good intentions? “I don’t know if I can stay tonight.” Years of unspoken emotion faltered on her lips, and she offered him a quiet smile. Even if she said otherwise, she hoped he could see past all the smoke and mirrors. Staying… was all she wanted to do, even if it was only for one night.

{I pull mostly from the remakes for her, but I generally use a smattering of material for her, plus we’re messing around with canon in our threads anyway. If you ever need me to explain something, I don’t mind at all! ^-^}

__________

Carlos really didn’t mind that Ada had kindof moved into his apartment without... actually moving in at all. He kept her things where she left them, or put them away in a safe place where they wouldn’t get dusty or damaged. There were reminders of her everywhere, and he was fine with that, even if sometimes it made him emotionally nostalgic to see them and think of her when she wasn’t there to cure his loneliness. It was all part of “being” with Ada. If he wanted to love her, then he had to accept that he wasn’t ever really going to have her. But he liked to think that he had about as much of her as she was probably ever going to allow anyone to get. He also liked to think that her leaving her various belongings in his apartment was almost like a cat marking her scent. She was claiming his living space - and him - as her territory. The idea of that was kindof hot, Carlos couldn’t lie.

Although he wasn’t usually a kiss-and-tell kindof guy, at least not about relationships that got very serious, Carlos had gone well out of his way to keep his friends and colleagues from knowing he was seeing Ada. Honestly, he did that more for her than for himself. Carlos placed a lot of value and importance on love, in all its various forms it might take in his life. He would rather love openly, come what way, and he’d deal with the consequences as they roll in. But he knew that Ada might be put in some tight spots or placed in some pretty dangerous situations if Umbrella and others were to find out the extent of their.. attachment, as it were. So for her sake, he kept quiet about it.

Carlos grinned as she teased him about always wanting to play the hero. Did he? Yeah, of course he did, except for one very important nuance. “Okay, but see, I would argue that I don’t play the hero, I succeed at it,” he said, his grin widening as he knew she would likely laugh or roll her eyes or let loose with something akin to oh, brother. Carlos was over the top with his heroism. Honor and chivalry were things he definitely practiced, but not quietly. His animated, charismatic style of heroism often led people to believe that it was, in some way, insincere. That couldn’t be further from the truth, but Carlos didn’t care what everyone else thought, only what Ada thought. “But come on, be honest... You can’t resist when I play the hero. Especially... when it’s for you.” He leaned in little closer to her as he said that, finally wiggling his eyebrows for emphasis before he chuckled and gave her back her personal space.

His smile faded, though, when she told him that she’d been informed he was dead. If she cared for him at all, really cared, then that must have hit her hard. “You didn’t believe them, did you?” His smile returned, but it was more of a pensive thing than before. The way she was looking at him, though... The way she hadn’t back way when he’d leaned in... It made Carlos wonder. He honestly didn’t think he had all that great instincts with regard to women sometimes. But every now and then, he got a strong feeling about something, and right now, he had a strong feeling like he should get a little closer to her. Maybe not touch her, but get closer. So he did, a couple steps, at the sort of distance where whispers from the right person could give one shivers in the best way. “You know by now that I’m pretty damn hard to kill,” he whispered, the left side of his mouth curving up into an endearing smile. He chose a bit of soft humor rather than dwelling on how Ada might have felt at hearing such news, protecting her feelings and keeping her vulnerability where she always liked it to stay... buried.

When she suggested that he get a cat, he chuckled. “You know, I used to have a cat. When I a lot younger. They’re okay, I guess. I’m just not here enough to take proper care of a pet, though. Cats need a lot of attention, and mine’s always on my work.” He paused, and looked at her with something of a twinkle in his eye. “Well, not always,” he whispered, his gaze lingering on hers.

“Maybe,” he said of the heroine in Ada’s story. “But that’s not the only kind of relationship, love, or happiness there is. What’s ideal for one person might not be for another. What’s possible for one person might not be for another. We’re going at our own pace, Ada. And that’s okay,” he said, trying his best to reassure her. He never wanted her to feel like he was horribly dissatisfied with her or their odd little arrangement, or to feel pressured to give more of herself to him than she was willing or ready to.

He chuckled as she accused him of saying things to all the girls he spoke to. “I say a lot of things to a lot of girls, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But there are some things I only say to you, and some things I’ll never say to them. And there’s no way in hell I’m ever gonna be angry at you for showing up unannounced. For any reason.”

His pensiveness returned as she suggested stargazing but then said she might not be able to stay. “I’d like that. A lot. But if you can’t stay tonight, then... I’ll take a rain check.” Something perhaps a little sad and lonely flashed in his eyes for just a millisecond as he swallowed hard. “Tell me we’ll do it next time. Tell me... that the next time you show up at my windowsill unannounced, we’ll go stargazing together.” His smiled was probably downright heartbreaking to her, for his longing and loneliness were showing through it despite his hardest attempts to keep things light for her sake. “Even if it’s not true, Ada. Lie to me,” he whispered. “Not all lies are bad, you know. Some of them are a comfort. Some of them provide people with a lotta hope.” 

[near-chicagoil]

Finding Your Home in the Sky: SKY55's Luxurious Downtown Chicago Apartments

If you're looking for apartments near Soldier Field with magnificent views and luxurious amenities, look no further than SKY55. Nested at 1255 S Michigan Ave, Chicago, IL 60605, United States, SKY55 offers more than just downtown Chicago apartments; it provides an exquisite experience of urban living at its best.

The architectural showpiece that is SKY55 stands tall as a curved glass tower, radiating modern elegance and sophistication. This apartment complex opens your world to breathtaking floor-to-ceiling window views of the vibrant Chicago skyline, bringing the city's dynamic charm right into your living space. Inside, the open kitchens boast of style and efficiency while spacious tubs and large walk-in closets offer comfort in spades. With all these features enveloped in one place, your search for apartments for rent in downtown Chicago or even apartments for rent in South Loop ends here.

The location of SKY55 is not just about stunning skyline views. It sits proudly amid parks, restaurants, coffee shops, and bars that foster a sense of community within the bustling South Loop area. There's always something to do and see with Soldier Field, Grant Park, Northerly Island Park, and much more within a stone's throw's distance. Living at SKY55 means experiencing all the wonders downtown Chicago offers in the most convenient possible way.

For those searching for apartments in South Loop that provide luxury, convenience, and an enticing location- there really can be no better choice than SKY55. Come join this vibrant community and elevate your living standards to new heights! Visit their website https://rent.brookfieldproperties.com/properties/sky55.html or call them at 213 224 3571 for more information. Find your dream home amidst the stars; find it at SKY55!

Chicago, IL: Where History, Culture, and Diversity Unite

Chicago, Illinois, often referred to as the "Windy City," is a captivating metropolis that boasts a rich history, diverse demographics, and a thriving cultural scene. Nestled along the southwestern shores of Lake Michigan, this vibrant city has played a pivotal role in shaping the nation's history and remains a beacon of architectural innovation and artistic expression.

With a history dating back to the early 19th century, Chicago has witnessed remarkable growth and transformation. Once a small trading post, it quickly emerged as a bustling hub of commerce, fueled by its strategic location as a transportation and shipping center. The city's iconic skyline, punctuated by skyscrapers like the Willis Tower (formerly known as the Sears Tower), reflects its enduring commitment to architectural innovation. In 1893, Chicago hosted the World's Columbian Exposition, a pivotal event in the city's history that showcased its architectural prowess and introduced the world to the Ferris wheel. Today, Chicago is celebrated for its architectural marvels, including the Cloud Gate sculpture, affectionately known as "The Bean," and the historic Wrigley Building.

An interesting fact about Chicago is its world-famous blues music heritage. The city is considered the birthplace of electric blues, with legends like Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, and Buddy Guy making their mark here. Visitors can still enjoy live blues performances at iconic venues like Kingston Mines and Buddy Guy's Legends, keeping this musical tradition alive.

Exploring the Magnificent Mile in Chicago, IL

Chicago, the Windy City, is a place teeming with iconic landmarks and cultural gems, but few are as renowned and celebrated as the Magnificent Mile. Nestled in the heart of downtown Chicago, this mile-long stretch of Michigan Avenue is a dazzling showcase of luxury shopping, world-class dining, and architectural splendor. With its rich history and vibrant atmosphere, the Magnificent Mile is an essential destination for both tourists and locals alike.

The Magnificent Mile, often referred to as "The Mag Mile," earned its name for a reason. Stretching from the Chicago River to Oak Street, this bustling avenue is home to some of the most exclusive boutiques, department stores, and designer shops in the world. Whether you're in search of high-end fashion, jewelry, electronics, or unique gifts, you'll find it all here. The historic Water Tower Place, a vertical shopping mall with eight floors of shops and restaurants, is a standout attraction that combines retail therapy with architectural elegance. This distinctive shopping center, built in the late 1970s, is housed within a beautifully preserved historic water tower, which survived the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. It's a testament to the city's resilience and a must-visit stop on any Magnificent Mile excursion.

Beyond its shopping allure, the Magnificent Mile is also a treasure trove of architectural wonders. Stroll along the avenue, and you'll be treated to a visual feast of diverse architectural styles, from the Gothic Revival Tribune Tower to the sleek modernity of the Wrigley Building. The Magnificent Mile is also home to renowned museums, including the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago, making it a cultural hotspot as well. Whether you're admiring the stunning architecture, indulging in world-class dining, or simply taking in the bustling ambiance, the Magnificent Mile offers a quintessential Chicago experience that will leave you captivated by the city's charm and allure.

The Diverse Charms of Illinois

Illinois, the "Land of Lincoln," is a state as diverse in its landscapes as it is in its cultural offerings. Located in the Midwest region of the United States, Illinois boasts a rich history, vibrant cities, and natural beauty that captivates residents and visitors alike. With its bustling urban centers, picturesque rural areas, and a wealth of historical landmarks, Illinois truly has something for everyone.

At the heart of Illinois lies Chicago, the state's largest city and a global metropolis. Known for its iconic skyline, deep-dish pizza, and vibrant arts scene, Chicago is a city that never sleeps. Visitors can explore world-class museums like the Art Institute of Chicago, stroll along the scenic Lake Michigan shoreline, or immerse themselves in the city's rich jazz and blues heritage. Beyond Chicago, Illinois offers a multitude of attractions, including Springfield, the state capital, where you can delve into the life and legacy of Abraham Lincoln at the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum.

One interesting fact about Illinois is its role in the development of modern architecture. Chicago, in particular, is renowned for its innovative skyscrapers and architectural landmarks, including the Willis Tower (formerly known as the Sears Tower) and the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Robie House. The state's contribution to architecture has left an indelible mark on the world, making it a must-visit destination for design enthusiasts.

[thesuffolk]

Lower East Side Apartment Views : The Ultimate Guide to Lower East Side Living

Welcome to the Lower East Side, the trendy Manhattan neighborhood that boasts some of the best apartment views in the city. If you are looking to move to this bustling area or are already a resident, we have put together the ultimate guide to Lower East Side living.

Explore the Neighborhood

The Lower East Side is known for its diverse culture and historic landmarks. Start your exploration at the Tenement Museum, a preserved tenement building that tells the story of immigrants who lived in the area in the 19th and 20th centuries. For a taste of the vibrant street art scene, check out the murals and installations at the First Street Green Art Park. For a more laid-back vibe, head to East River Park, a 57-acre waterfront park with stunning views of the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges.

Dine Out

One of the best things about living on the Lower East Side is the incredible food scene. Whether you're in the mood for traditional Jewish deli fare or trendy fusion dishes, there's something for everyone. For a classic brunch experience, head to Russ & Daughters Cafe, a beloved institution that has been serving smoked fish and bagels for over a century. For a more upscale dinner, check out Contra, a Michelin-starred restaurant that serves inventive tasting menus.

Shop Local

The Lower East Side is home to a variety of independent shops and boutiques. For unique home decor and gifts, check out Coming Soon, a quirky shop that sells everything from ceramic vases to funky light fixtures. For stylish women's clothing, head to Assembly New York, a boutique that features avant-garde designers and contemporary brands. And for vintage finds, don't miss the Manhattan outpost of Beacon's Closet, a popular consignment shop.

Experience the Nightlife

If you're looking for a fun night out, the Lower East Side has plenty of options. For live music, check out the Bowery Ballroom, a historic venue that has hosted everyone from the Beastie Boys to Adele. For craft cocktails and speakeasy vibes, head to Attaboy, a hidden bar with no menu where the bartenders create custom drinks based on your preferences. And for a raucous dance party, don't miss the rooftop at the Hotel Chantelle, a lively spot with views of the Manhattan skyline.

Find Your Dream Apartment

Of course, the main draw of the Lower East Side apartment views . Whether you're looking for a cozy studio or a spacious three-bedroom, there's a home for every lifestyle. Check out buildings like the Ludlow, a luxury high-rise with panoramic views of the city, or the Blue, a boutique rental building with stylish finishes and a rooftop deck.

Conclusion

From the vibrant culture to the stunning apartment views, the Lower East Side is truly a special neighborhood. We hope this guide has given you a taste of what it's like to live in this dynamic area. Whether you're a longtime resident or a first-time visitor, there's always something new to discover in the Lower East Side.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

that time of year

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; intimidation, guns, threats of violence, cuckish behaviour.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features mob!Ransom Drysdale and Jake Jensen x reader. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You get invited unexpectedly to a holiday party by a friend but the night’s about to take an even more unexpected turn.

This is for @stargazingfangirl18 @navybrat817 @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ hoe-liday challenge! My prompts were Ransom + "sweetheart, that dress just got you added to the naughty list." + repaying a debt with sex

Note: Hope you enjoy this festive fuckery, hehehe.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

warning graphics by @its-just-may​

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

It’s sweet of Jensen to ask you. Really. He knows you don’t have any plans for the holiday. No family to go visit and no particular attachment to the time of year. Plus, you owe him one. He took several viruses off your laptop and made your virtual life much less stressful.

Deep down, you also know he has no one else to ask. He wasn’t exactly subtle in offering his plus one spot to you or mentioning that everyone would have one. What he kept mysterious is who exactly is throwing the shindig or why they invited him. He isn’t exactly a social butterfly, as much as he tries. No judgment, you aren’t either.

The dark blue velvet is your little holiday treat to yourself, tiny faux diamonds set into the dress, a slit to mid-thigh that makes you feel more sophisticated than you are. The event justifies the impulse purchase as you slip your feet into a pair of silver heels to match. You’ll be chilly but isn’t that the cost of looking good?

As you check your reflection one last time, you hear the electric chime of your doorbell. You swipe up your phone to view through the lens and find Jensen bouncing on his feet as he waits.

“Who is it?” you say playfully.

“Hurry up and let me in, my toes are cold,” he whines.

You laugh and shuffle away, carefully descending in your heels as you grip the railing. You aren’t exactly graceful even though your outfit gives a different impression. You tap to the door and turn the lock back as you let Jensen in.

He slides in on his soles and stops short as he sees you. His brows rise and he clears his throat, fixing the knot of his tie, though it’s not exactly straight when he finishes. You tut and and shoo his hands away.

“Gosh,” you unloop his tie, “you know they have about a dozen videos on Youtube on how to tie it yourself. Nice Windsor knot and all.”

“Well…” He looks down and watches your hands work, “I don’t see a tie on you.”

“Pfft,” you scoff and pull down his tie so it lays neatly down his dress shirt. You’re not a fan of the brown of his jacket and the teal of the silk but he’s not exactly a beacon of style, “I told you I was wearing blue.”

“It’s blue,” he runs his fingers along his tie.

“You’re colour blind,” you roll your eyes.

He chuckles and shoves his hands in his pocket, the black coat over his brown jacket pushed open as he gives a sheepish smile, “you look… nice.”

“Thanks, not too bad yourself now I prettied you up,” you joke, “so, I still have no idea about this thing? Should I bring something? My boss gave me a bottle of prosecco instead of a raise.”

“No, I think it’s fine,” he says, “it’s, um, a charity thing.”

“Charity? So a donation?” you wonder as you slide open your closet and take out your houndstooth coat; talk about tacky.

“Everything’s taken care of,” he promises, “but we should get going.”

“Right, well, I gotta go grab my phone,” you pull on your coat, “you’re driving right?”

“Yep, I’ll just go warm up the car,” he fidgets with his pocket, “you really do look… um, good.”

“Alright, I’m going,” you pout and head for the stairs, “don’t need to bribe me with your empty compliments.”

He opens his mouth but he keeps from arguing. He nods and turns awkwardly back to the door.

“I’ll wait for you,” he pulls it open and steps outside, leaving you to make the perilous climb in your steep heels.

🥂

You check your coat and keep your clutch under your arm as you enter the large hall. The party, more so a gala or what you imagine those to be, is sparkling with white strings of light and golden champagne. You glance at Jensen. You don’t exactly expect him to have friends in high places.

Servers in sleek tuxedo uniforms hand out long-stemmed glasses and offer hors d’oevres from their golden trays. You take a drink and a stuffed mushroom. You chew to keep busy and sip the champagne with a little too much zeal. Jensen spills his down his jacket and tries to play it off.

The pluck of harps and the dulcet tone of piano hum in the air as a live band in silk and satin plays on a low stage draped in ivory and a felt table stands ready for the deep coffers of guests. You feel entirely out of place, especially on the arm of the man next to you.

“Um, Jake,” you turn to him and take another gulp of bubbles, “how exactly did you get an invite to this?”

“Er, I know a guy,” he glances around.

“I feel like a sore thumb,” you utter, “I mean, these women are wearing designer gowns and I’m wearing a mall rag I could barely afford.”

“You look good,” he says promptly, “very good. I mean it. Plus, just take a look at me, if I’d known tuxes were to be expected–”

“Jakey boy,” a voice cuts through the din and you turn on your heel to face the approaching man in a burgundy jacket. He offers his hand and Jake shakes it as his chest puffs and he holds his breath, “I was starting to think you were cutting out on me again.”

“Not at all,” Jensen exhales, “I was just looking for you.”

“Mhmm,” the man peeks over at you, his blue eyes are almost the same shade as Jensen’s and he has an oddly similar shape to his jaw. He was Jensen if he had a trust fund and charisma, “you brought a date?”

“Uh, oh,” Jensen glances over at you as your ankle almost bends beneath you, “yeah–”

“Ransom,” the man curtails the awkward introduction and offers you his hand, “I am the host of this little… soiree.”

You give him your name as you balance your champagne in your other. He notices as he releases you and takes the glass from you lithely.

“You look like you need a refill,” he snaps his fingers and turns as a server approaches, he switches out your glass for a new one and hands it back, “here you are. Now, Jakey, we got some catching up to do. First, I need to make the rounds so you and you’re… lady get yourselves something to munch on and we’ll connect later, say…” he checks his golden rolex, “twenty minutes. Just go back through there–” he points, “behind the stage. You’ll see Danny, he’ll get you sorted.”

“Sure, uh, you know I told you next month I’d–”

“Not here, Jakey,” he pinches his cheek like a child, “bring the girl.” He smirks between the two of you, “nice meeting ya, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you real soon.”

“Um, alright,” you look over at Jensen in confusion.

“He’s a good guy,” Ransom slaps Jensen’s shoulder, “really, I just wanna get to know you. You know, those we keep close are the best marker of character.”

“Sure, he’s nice, uh–” you flinch as he lightly touches your arm and leans in to kiss your cheek.

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he lets his fingers trail down your arm before he turns away, calling out to another man as his rich voice carries over the party.

“That was… weird,” you say and swig down champagne.

“He’s like that,” Jensen says and he rubs his neck, “I’m sorry. He makes me nervous. Kinda why I asked you to come.”

“Of course,” you mutter, “can’t suffer alone, right?”

“No, he’s cool,” Jensen insists, “he’s just really confident. And a bit scary.”

“So what exactly are you chatting about, anyhow? Seems real urgent. Isn’t this a party?” you wrinkle your nose.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he says, “you can hang back.”

“No, I’ll go with you,” you assure him, “don’t really wanna be in a room full of strangers alone.”

🥂

The second glass of champagne has you a bit tipsy. Not a good combination with your heels but you hang onto Jensen to keep from slipping. He leads you across the room and you catch his lingering gaze at the poker table. He was always one for a game of chance but it was usually just a careless gamble on a sports game or who could balance a book on their head the longest.

A dark-haired man greets you on the other side of the stage and Jensen tells him Ransom sent him. He leads you into an attached room, a sort of office, with a green leather chair and large mahogany desk. It feels like some sort of movie about underhanded mafiosos.

“Fancy,” you say as the door shuts and you detach from Jensen to sit on the low couch, a table with a crystal decanter and dark liquor beside it, “ugh, it feels good to get off my feet.”

You stretch out your legs and roll your ankles around as you groan and put down your clutch. Jensen paces and considers a golden globe closely as he leans over the desk. You notice how he wipes his sweaty palm on his pant leg.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Fine, I just… wanna get this over with.”

“You sure it’s alright I came?” you cross one leg over the other.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” he says, “you’re not the issue.”

“Is there something going on?” you arch a brow.

“No, just, I don’t know, feel like a dweeb around these guys,” he sighs, “always the nerd, right?”

“So, find someone you do fit in with,” you say, “who even is this guy? I mean, he’s not exactly the D and D type.”

“God, you think I’m just a geek, don’t you?” he pouts as he turns.

“No, I didn’t mean it like tha– Jensen, look who you’re talking to,” you plead, “I’m just saying, this isn’t high school. You don’t need to fit in and this guy, well he just seems like a pompous jock. Those guys are the lamest.”

You hear low voices and quiet. Jensen shakes his and blows out a breath as he glances at the door. Ransom steps through and his cheek twitches as he sees you first, only looking at Jensen as he shuts the door after him. He raises his chin as he strides across the room and evades the other man.

“Early, for once, Jakey boy,” Ransom says as he nears the cabinet in the cornet, glass peeking in a crystal glasses. He takes out two and sets them beside the decanter. He fills both and hands you one. You accept it awkwardly. “Sorry, I didn’t even ask,” he turns to Jake and takes a drink, “you want some?”

Jensen shakes his head and sniffs. He faces the other man as his glasses obscure his eyes, though you can tell he’s on edge by the way his throat constricts.

“I’m gonna venture a guess and say you two aren’t… together,” Ransom leans on the desk, lifting one leg as he points between you, whiskey swishing in his glass.

“N-no,” you answer as Jensen remains quiet.

“Go on and drink, sweetheart,” Ransom urges, “it’s good stuff. Goes down well with the champagne.”

You squint, confused, but do as he says.

“She doesn’t have to be here for this,” Jensen says softly, “please.”

“You brought her, Jakey boy,” Ransom shrugs.

“I told you, I’ll have the money next month,” Jensen grovels, “I came, right, that shows I’m not trying to cut out–”

“You owe me,” Ransom insists, “and I’ve forgiven enough of your shit. My patience has never been very long but you’ve stretched it further than anyone. You came, you know what’s owed, so don’t act so surprised.”

You shift nervously and put down the glass. Just the smell of the alcohol is making you queasy.

“What’s going on?” you eke out.

“Don’t worry, I’m about to explain. For both of you, first, Jakey, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair to your left.

“Let her leave, please,” Jensen says.

“Sit down,” Ransom repeats firmly, “don’t make me make you.”

Jensen cringes and slowly makes his way to the chair. He lowers himself and you stand suddenly, a trickle of fear down your spine. Ransom stops you and catches your shoulders.

“Now, where are you off to? We’re just getting settled in,” his eyes drift down and he clicks his tongue.

“Jake,” you utter and look at Jensen. Ransom grabs your chin and makes you face him.

“Let me explain then,” he pushes you down and you sit weakly. He kneels and places his hands just above your knees, rubbing the velvet of your skirt, “sweetheart, that dress got you added to the naughty list.”

“I don’t–”

“Shh,” he hushes you, “you see, Jakey boy likes to gamble and he was winning big. On a streak really but you know those always gotta come to an end and what do you know, his luck runs out. Money too. Now he’s overdue,” his hands trail up and he squeezes your thighs painfully, “and he hasn’t paid me. He just keeps promising and promising,” his fingers poke at you and you whimper as you grab at his hands, “and he thinks he can just keep on telling me next month, well, that’s not how this shit works. If he doesn’t pay, I find something of equal value–”

“You’re hurting me,” you gasp as you try to peel his fingers away.

“Stop–” Jensen slides forward and grabs Ransom’s arm.

Ransom rises and knocks Jensen back with an elbow. He strikes him with the back of his hand and deflects the response. He shoves Jensen back into the chair and reaches to grab you by the back of your neck. He forces you to your feet so you struggle in your heels.

“Do it again, Jakey, and I start breaking her fingers,” he snarls, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be. You’ve already dragged me through the fucking shit.”

“Please,” you beg as you stand on tiptoes.

“Now, sweetheart, don’t get premature, we’ll get to the part where you scream,” he taunts as he reaches for his belt. He takes out a handgun and points it at Jensen before he can stand again, “your choice, Jakey, I can blow her brains out,” he puts the muzzle to your temple, “or I can blow her back out.”

“Don’t hurt her,” Jensen quavers.

“Oh, I can make her feel real good,” he moves the gun around your chin as he pulls you against him, his hand snaking around your neck, “but the best part is, you get to see it all.”

“Please,” Jensen gulps.

“I tried, Jakey, I really did, and I didn’t want it to turn out like this,” Ransom continues as he wiggles his crotch against you, “but you didn’t have to bring her and flaunt that ass in front of me.”

Jensen sniffles and lowers his chin.

“Please, don’t–” you squeak.

“Now, sweetheart, I feel you shaking with anticipation so let’s not play innocent,” he slips the gun down your front, over your chest and stomach, and pushes along your vee, “do what I say and you and the boy walk out… maybe with a slight limp.”

You swallow and nod. He snickers and carefully lets you go as he takes the gun away. He steps back and points it at Jensen.

“Jakey boy, you keep your eyes on the girl and sweetheart, as much as I love the way that dress looks on you, it’s comin’ off,” he chirps, “turn around."

You shake as you obey, senseless as the fear overflows and burns in your veins. You flinch as you feel him step closer and he pinches the tab of your zipper and draws it down until your dress slackens. You catch the front and he hums.

"Ah, let it go," he orders and you do as he bids, shimmying free of the velvet sheath. "Good, now, sweetheart, come over on the couch and sit." He steps back and you move cautiously back to the couch and lower yourself, "put those legs nice and wide."

You bite the inside of your lip and spread your knees. He smirks and you watch him round his desk and lock his gun in the top drawer.

"Now, let me warn you, Jakey, Danny's watching that door so don't think me putting this away is your out," he intones as he slips his jacket down his arms, "is it worse you never got it in her?"

He drapes his jacket from the back of Jensen's chair and rubs his hands together, "now pay attention, you might learn something."

He rolls his sleeves up and nears the couch. You press yourself to the back and he kneels between your legs. You wince as he tickles your thighs and keeps you from bringing your knees together as he moves closer.

His hands crawl up and he frames your hips. He urges you forward and swipes his hands under your ass. He pulls your legs over his shoulders as you slip down on the couch.

"Please," you murmur as your terror bubbles over, "please--"

"Sweetheart, I'm being nice," he purrs, "let's not spoil it."

"Ransom--" Jensen sputters.

"Sit there and shut up!" Ransom snaps, "remember, how this happens is up to you. You want me to be mean, you keep talking."

You grasp the couch as you try not slip further. You shy away as Ransom turns back to you and smirks. You see him bite his lip before he dips his head down and trails a hand up to tug your panties aside.

“Now why did we choose these ones, hmm?” he teases as he rubs the lacy black panties, “maybe she does like you, Jakey.”

His hot breath tickles you and you gasp as suddenly his lips brush against your folds. His cool tongue delves down and flicks over your clit. You exhale wispily and clench your teeth as you squeeze your eyes shut. You push your head back and your fingers curl as he seals his mouth around your bud and sucks. The pressure pinpoints at the tip of his tongue as he swirls it around.

“Go…d…” you mutter senselessly as your legs hook wantingly around his shoulders.

He hums and it sends a thrill through you unlike anything you’ve felt before. He turns his hand and traces two fingertips along your cunt. He runs them up and down as he keeps lapping at you thirstily. He prods firmly against your entrance and slowly you stretch around his invasion.

He chuckles as he sinks in to his knuckles and you moan. Even with just his fingers, you feel full. Your walls squeeze him as you tilt your hips unthinkingly and welcome his touch. He bends his fingers and rocks his hand as he sloppily drinks you up.

Your thighs are alight as he plucks at you and the coil winds around his fingers. You pant as your hand shoots down and pushes his head down desperately. You’re almost there, so close. Your hips move without permission and you ride his face over the edge of bliss.

You cry out pathetically as you latch onto the couch above your head, your other hand still twined in Ransom’s thick but finely cut hair. He urges you through the ripples of delight but doesn’t stop, even as you’re weak and squirming. He pushes his fingers even deeper, shaking his hand as he growls against your cunt.

You whine and bare your teeth as your lashes snap open. You can hardly breathe as he coaxes you past the point of pleasure. It’s so good it hurts, yet you want more. Your hips buck uncontrollably and your head lolls. Your drooping eyes meet Jensen’s, his jaw tensed as his eyes glisten but he won’t look away.

You turn your head and shame and try to push Ransom away. He looks up at you and winks, drawing back and wiping away the string of spit that hangs from his lips. He licks away the shimmer on his lips as he lets your legs fall off of his shoulders and stands.

“Mmm, nice warm up, huh, Jakey boy,” Ransom mocks as he grins at the other man, “sweetheart, take those tits out for him. I’m sure he’s been dying to see them.”

Your lips part but you clamp them shut just as quickly. You swallow and push yourself up, reaching back to unhook your bra. It slumps down your arms and you let it drop down to the floor. Ransom comes closer and fondles your tit, pinching your nipple as it grows hard and pointy. You squeak and he snickers.

“Get up on your knees,” he bends to tap the couch beside you, “facing him, sweetheart.”

You shake your head and cross your arms over your chest, mortified. He sighs and grabs your elbow, wrenching you up and around. You fight him, helplessly, as he gets you onto your knees. He forces your hands flat onto the leather and holds them there.

“Now, you’ve been a good girl and I’ve treated you nice, haven’t I?” he slithers, “so let’s not make this any harder… He’s got nice teeth, I’d hate to break them.”

“Please,” you whimper as he slowly straightens and slaps your ass so you exclaim.

“Please what?” he says as he slips he rolls your panties down your legs, “please fuck you?”

You sniff and hold in another whine. Your panties twist down to your knees and he climbs up behind you, stretching the fabric as he urges your legs apart with his. He gropes your ass, groaning as he does and slaps it again.

“Fine piece, Jakey,” he says, “don’t know how you held out so long.”

His hands leave your ass and you hear a metal clink. You catch Jensen’s eye again and drop your chin down to hide your face. Fabric rustles against you as Ransom shifts behind you. He snakes his arm down and grazes your stomach with his large hand. He bends over you as he slides his fingers down to your cunt and lines his cock up from behind.

“Look at him, sweetheart,” he growls against your hair, “now!”

You raise your head and you stare at Jensen blankly. You grit your teeth and dig your nails into the leather couch. Ransom enters you, an inch at a time, a long exhale as he gets deeper and deeper. As he reaches his limit, you’re shaking, overwhelmed by the fullness.

“Mmmm, look at her, vibrating for me, huh?” Ransom rasps, “shit, she’s fucking tight.” He jerks his hips so you squeal, “or maybe I’m fucking big, huh, sweetheart?”

You hum and nod as you suck in your bottom lip. You can barely see straight as you resist rolling your eyes back. He twirls his fingers around your clit as he begins to thrust, long and careful, drawing out the friction. Your moans betray you and escape you in quivery breaths.

“She smells good,” Ransom nuzzles your shoulder as he speeds up, “mmm.”

He sits back as he loops his other arm around you and takes you back with him, lifting you against his lap as he moves your body. He bounces you against him, fingers dancing on your bud as his other hand grips your chin and he pokes two fingers into your mouth. You murmur and puff as he slams into you from below.

“Shit, happy holidays to me, Jakey, this is a hell of a gift,” he sneers and nips at your shoulder.

You hang limply from his grasp as he fucks you, your body his toy as he plays with you in front of another. You reach back blindly and grip his open belt as you drone. You quake as you cum again, spasming wildly as he carries his motion.

“Look at her, what’s that, three, four times? Hard to keep count,” Ransom says through shallow breaths, “shit, I think I might just cum, sweetheart.” He keeps his pace and grunts. “Jakey, should I cum in her, hmm? Maybe on these tits?” He slips his hand down and cups your chest, “better hurry up and decide.”

Jensen doesn’t answer. You hear a smothered sob and Ransom pulls you down as his hips jerk against you. He swears as his body tenses and his rhythm turns spasmic. He sinks to his limit and hugs you against him, stilling you as he spills into your cunt hotly. He hangs his head as his damp breath clings to your hair.

He lifts you off of him and lets you fall onto your stomach. He gets to his feet and tuts as you roll onto your side and hug yourself, shivering and shaking from the heat still coursing in your veins. He chuckles as he nears Jake and pulls the fabric square from his jacket pocket. He steps back and wipes his shining cock.

“That’s the interest, Jakey boy,” Ransom says, “I still expect the rest. Next week, or I come find you.” He crumples the black silk and tosses it, “Maybe I’ll get to her first.”

“I… next week,” Jensen croaks and you look at him, his face red with streaked tears, “I’ll have the money.”

“Well, damn,” Ransom zips up and checks his watch, “I was almost looking forward to more.”

He swipes his jacket from the back of the chair and pulls it on as he struts to the door. He pauses and glances back, his hand on the knob.

“Get her cleaned up, Jakey,” Ransom orders, “you gotta walk her outta here. If she can even stand.”

He turns and opens the door, shutting it sharply behind him as the din of the next room seeps in briefly. You huff and push yourself up. You refuse to glance at Jake as you stand and scoop up your dress. You slip into it and scoop up your undergarments.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen utters.

“Don’t,” you sniff and try to smooth out the dress, “I just wanna go.”

[dimigex]

I Won’t Lie - Kakasaku

It’s finally done!! I started this piece years ago but never finished it. It’s the follow on to my story Distraction, but you don’t have to read that to understand it at all. 

Distraction, I Won’t Lie, Part One, Part Two, Epilogue 

Here’s the first part, the rest is linked above and also available on FF.

"So, have you put the moves on the Hokage yet," Ino questioned, applying black eyeliner with a practiced flip of her hand. Her aqua blue eyes stood out in sharp contrast, seeming larger than they had any right to.

Sakura groaned from the bed, falling back to cover her face. "I never intended to put the moves on him," she mumbled, hoping that Ino wouldn't be able to see the crimson flush of her cheeks. "And, it didn't work anyway. Kakashi doesn't know that I exist."

Ino jerked the pillow away and leveled her best friend with a stare. "He definitely knows that you exist, but you need to remind him that you're a woman now, not a little girl." Her gaze swept over Sakura from head to toe. "Why don't you put on something a little more interesting tonight?"

"What's wrong with what I have on?" Sakura frowned at her outfit. Okay, the leggings that she wore were more comfortable than provocative, and her mother would have approved of her shirt, but that didn't mean there was anything wrong with it. She always dressed like this when they went out. It wasn't her fault that Ino had more outfits than any other girl that Sakura knew, and an uncanny way of making everything look sexy.

"Nothing," Ino answered, with a smile curving her cherry-red lips. "As long as you want to die old and alone."

Sakura threw the remaining pillow at Ino's face, narrowly missing. "Shut up, Ino-pig," she grumbled, reverting to the insult that had become a friendly nickname over the past few years. Sakura tugged at her shirt for a moment, chewing her lip "If I agree, can you make it look like I'm not trying too hard?"

A grin split Ino's face. "Of course. We have to find just the right outfit to show off that body you worked so hard for."

Before Sakura could protest, the blond pulled her off of the bed and toward the closet. Nearly an hour later, Sakura examined her expression in the mirror, shocked at the illusion that Ino had created. Long lashes framed her green eyes, making them stand out against her pale skin. The faint dusting of freckles that Sakura usually hated had taken on a soft glow from the highlighter Ino used. Glossy lips completed the expression, in a shade lighter than Sakura ever thought she could pull off. Ino hadn't stopped there. She'd transformed Sakura's hair as well. The pale tresses piled on top of her head, falling in artful curls around her face.

Ino pulled Sakura from musing about how she looked like an entirely different person by tugging on the dress. The blond dragged the black fabric to the side, baring one shoulder. It draped Sakura's body, accentuating enough to suggest that she had more curves than she really did. Chuckling, Sakura pulled the fabric toward her knees. Ino slapped her hands away. "Stop that, it's supposed to be short."

"I can't wear this," Sakura complained even as she turned to admire herself from the side. It hugged her body in a way that none of her other outfits had.

Shaking her head, Ino walked over to the closet and tossed a pair of heels to Sakura. "You can, and you will. No one will be able to keep their eyes off you, especially not Kakashi."

Color flamed in Sakura's cheek, hidden somewhat by the makeup. "What if he isn't there?"

Ino's devious grin made Sakura nervous. "Then you'll go home with someone else. You look too damn good to go home alone tonight"

-------------------------------

When Ino and Sakura swept into the pub nearly half an hour late, dozens of heads swiveled in their direction. Ino linked an arm through Sakura's and pulled her into the room before she could back away in a fit of self-consciousness. Her gaze swept over the people gathered for Naruto's birthday, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Kakashi wasn't there yet or not coming at all, everything they'd done had been a waste of time.

Forcing the hopelessness down, Sakura caught sight of an overbearing ball of sunshine cutting through the room. Naruto's grin probably had more to do with the atmosphere than alcohol, but she couldn't be sure. He threw an arm around Sakura's shoulder and pulled her into a side hug. "I was beginning to think nobody from my team was going to show up tonight."

When Naruto released Sakura, his blue eyes slipped lower than her neck. The blush on his whiskered cheeks was obvious even in the dim lighting. "You look nice tonight. I mean, not that you don't always look nice-" Sakura's laughter cut off the awkward exchange, and Naruto managed a nervous smile before rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think Sasuke is going to make it tonight."

"Unfortunately, Sasuke's mission has him delayed outside the village." The proximity of Kakashi's voice made Sakura jump. When she turned, she realized that he stood just inside the doorway behind them. Their gazes locked, and Kakashi's eyes widened, perhaps only just now realizing that she'd been the one standing with Naruto. While pink hair was unusual in the village, a few girls had started imitating Sakura after the war. She hated it, but the element of surprise was nice.

Ino unwound her arm from Sakura's and moved away to speak to someone that Sakura didn't recognize. Completely oblivious of the tension of the moment, Naruto caught Kakashi with his other arm and pulled them both into a hug. Sakura felt the warmth of Kakashi's chest against her side. "I'm glad you two made it, at least."

Kakashi pulled away, chuckling in the back of his throat. "Of course I came, I have to keep an eye on you kids to make sure you don't get into any trouble."

"We aren't kids," Sakura grumbled, challenging Kakashi with a glare through her mascara lengthened lashes. "We're adults now."

"That's right, sensei. We don't have to listen to you anymore." Naruto laughed, giving Kakashi a cheeky grin.

Kakashi frowned, the barest movements of his mask. "I'm still Hokage, though."

"For now." Naruto's banter eased the conversation into playful jabs that allowed Sakura to stay silent. Kakashi hadn't even responded to her comment about being an adult now. Her heart sank lower in her chest.

As the men exchanged barbs, Ino reappeared from wherever she'd been. Grabbing Sakura's hand, she led them to the bar. "It's pointless," Sakura complained, leaning close so that the words would only be loud enough for Ino. "He'll always view me as a kid. I'd be better off chasing Sasuke."

"Absolutely not," Ino hissed, vehemence dripping from her voice as she raised a hand to order drinks. "Sasuke isn't even on the radar for you. Do not put yourself through that again."

Sakura nodded and toyed with the silver teardrop earring that Ino had loaned her. She knew that Sasuke was a bad idea. The boy had never acknowledged her, not really. And now, it was the same with Kakashi. At best Kakashi saw her as the child that he'd mentored years ago. At worst, the annoying girl that she'd been during those early days. She'd never change that.

"Let me tell you my secret, Forehead." Ino shoved a shot glass into Sakura's hand. "It just takes five seconds of insane courage to get whatever you want. That's it. Just five seconds of bravery, then the hard part is over. You either have the thing you want or you don't, but at least you'll know."

"Is that how you landed Sai?" Sakura asked, closing her grip around the glass of liquid courage without questioning what was inside it. The idea that Ino actually liked Sai and wanted to be with him when there were so many men that she could have had was something that Sakura had trouble wrapping her mind around.

Ino laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. "Yes, Sai. And, all the others."

Gossip suggested that Ino had worked her way through half of the eligible shinobi in the village. There was a great deal of truth to it. Ino had dated Shikamaru for a couple of weeks before the pair decided that friendship was less troublesome than a relationship. She and Kiba had been fireworks from the beginning, fighting almost constantly. Choji was too gentle, Lee too exhausting, Shino too quiet, and the list went on and on. Somehow, Ino landed on Sai and found that the man matched her surprisingly well. Sakura had already noticed the girl looking for him in the crowd.

"Drink," Ino commanded, nodding toward the alcohol. Sakura steeled her nerves and tipped the glass up. The liquid burned the entire way down, making her gasp for a breath. Ino clapped her on the back. "Good, now let's go and find someone to make him jealous over."

"Ino, no." Sakura pulled away from her best friend with a firm shake of her head. "It doesn't matter. It's just a silly crush."

The look on the blonde's face suggested that she didn't believe Sakura's excuse, but she didn't force it. Sakura let her gaze wander over the people brought together to celebrate Naruto's birthday. He had touched so many lives, and since the war, most people recognized that. Naruto had wanted to do something at Ichiraku, but the stand was too small for all their friends. They'd made arrangements for the celebration to be held here, but white bowls of ramen dotted most of the tables.

Kakashi drew Sakura's eyes like a beacon. He stood in the shadows beside Captain Yamato, heads close together as they spoke. It had surprised Sakura to learn that the men were old friends, especially since Kakashi held so many people at a distance. Sakura and Naruto had grown closer to him, of course, but there didn't seem to be many others. Tsunade and the other jonin perhaps, but the ease between Kakashi and Yamato spoke of actual friendship. Sakura felt a twinge of jealousy. Why couldn't it be that easy for her?

Ino leaned close, the scent of alcohol drifting from her lips. "You know, Yamato isn't bad looking either."

Sakura considered the words. While Yamato didn't hold the aura of mystery that Kakashi did, his easy smile and kind eyes made him attractive in his own way. Even so, no matter how much Sakura watched the pair, her eyes strayed to Kakashi. As she'd expected, he'd worn his uniform to the party. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up against the heat of the room, while his hands were tucked into the pockets of matching pants. Kakashi's mask remained in place, of course, but the headband that used to slant across half of his face was missing. Two charcoal eyes stared out at the room, silver hair falling into them.

"Oh, it's definitely just a little crush," Ino teased, pulling Sakura from her longing gaze. "Why don't you just go and talk to him? Ask him to dance or ask him back to your place. Just do something besides staring at him."

When Sakura started to protest, Ino rolled her eyes. "Come on, I've seen you kick ass so many times, but you're scared to talk to a boy? The worst thing he can do is turn you down. And, if that happens, it's his loss."

It isn't that easy, Sakura started to argue. Only, she knew that it was. She'd been pining after Kakashi for months, treasuring stupid, little moments that probably meant nothing: the way that his arms had curled around her on the training field, how his eyes lit up when he laughed at her joke about Tsunade trying to kill them both with reports, or the startle when her fingers had brushed his wrist. Those things made her wonder if there might be something more, but Kakashi was impossible to read. The sudden intake of breath when Sakura touched him could just have easily been discomfort as desire.

"I think I need another drink," Sakura declared, putting away the miserable thoughts for another day.

It didn't take long for the pleasant warmth of alcohol to loosen the tension that seemed permanently attached to Sakura's shoulders. She relaxed enough to dance a couple of turns with Naruto. He was far more awkward on the dance floor than any shinobi had the right to be. After two dances, Sakura begged off and pushed him toward Hinata. A few months ago, the girl had finally gotten brave enough to let Naruto know that she liked him. The pair was slowly turning into a couple, but the transition was painful to watch. They were both too shy for their own good.

Sakura stumbled back toward the bar, surprised to admit that she was having more fun than she'd thought she would, even if Kakashi ignored her. As she reached for her glass, Ino flashed a pleasant grin that warned Sakura that the girl was coming up with a plan that Sakura wasn't going to like. Without explaining anything, Ino linked their arms and dragged Sakura back into the crowd. Three steps into the walk, once she realized where they were going, Sakura tried to stop the inevitable. But, it was too late. Ino stopped beside Kakashi and Yamato.

The men looked up in surprise, their conversation stopping abruptly. Sakura felt Kakashi's gaze on her face for several heartbeats before it slid toward Ino's. With another signature grin, the blond moved into Yamato's personal space. "You sent my boyfriend on a mission just before the party, and now I have nobody to dance with. It seems only fair that you take his place." Ino held out a hand expectantly.

"Um-I-uh-it was unavoidable," Yamato stammered, a delicate pink blush tinting his cheeks. Sakura almost rolled her eyes. It was pathetic to watch how easily Ino turned him, or any man for that matter, into a stuttering mess simply by batting her eyelashes. She'd thought Yamato was better than that.

To Sakura's surprise, it was Kakashi who spoke next. "I think she has a solid case." Yamato gaped at the man, but Kakashi continued as if he hadn't seen it. "You deprived her of enjoying the evening; you should make up for it. Within reason, of course."

As the implication hit home, the pink on Yamato's cheeks deepened to crimson. Sakura struggled not to laugh at his expression. Ino cleared her throat, moving her hand closer. For a moment, Sakura wondered if Kakashi was going to have to push the man forward. Finally, Yamato dipped his head and took Ino's hand. Sakura couldn't stop her mirth as the pair disappeared onto the dance floor. "He's going to be furious with you later, you know that right?"

"It's good for him. Yamato is too shy." Kakashi leaned his shoulders against the wall, and for a moment Sakura couldn't take her eyes off of the smooth stretch of his body and the way his armor shifted with the movement. Half a second later, she realized that he'd said something. Deciding that it probably wasn't important, she nodded and he continued. "Of course, she doesn't mean anything by it, does she?"

Sakura shook her head, watching as Ino attempted to guide Yamato's hands toward her hips as she moved to the music. He kept moving them back to her waist, embarrassment obvious. Sakura chuckled under her breath. "No, she's quite taken with Sai actually."

"Our Sai?" Kakashi asked, eyebrows rising in surprise.

Sakura nodded, watching as Yamato finally relaxed into the dance and loosened up a bit. "She and Sai balance each other well, like Naruto and Hinata."

Kakashi followed Sakura's gaze toward the bar where Naruto and Hinata were talking. The blond leaned against the edge, telling some kind of story while the girl gazed up adoringly. Two years ago, she'd been too frightened and embarrassed to speak with him, and Naruto too stupid to realize why. With a little gentle prodding, they'd finally caught on.

Kakashi made a sound that might have been agreement in the back of his throat. "You're all pairing off these days, falling in love and getting married."

"Not all of us," Sakura grumbled. Frustration bled into her voice as she continued. "Some of us accepted the weight of duty instead."

A silver eyebrow arched skyward as Kakashi turned to face Sakura. A look of understanding crossed his features, but Sakura doubted that he realized she was talking about him as well. Undeniably handsome, Kakashi could have his pick of women in the village, but he remained alone. He had thrown himself into the role of hokage, even though he hated it. Sakura had done the same at the hospital, though she enjoyed her work for the most part. The two of them weren't as different as he seemed to think.

A stir went through the room. Naruto pushed away from the bar, his voice cutting through the din of music and conversation. "You made it!'

As much as Sakura wanted to continue admiring Kakashi, her attention drifted toward Naruto. He stood in the doorway, arms thrown around-Sakura's mind temporarily shorted out, taking several seconds to catch up with her eyes. Sasuke stood in the spill of light, Naruto's arms wrapped around his shoulders. Raven dark hair and equally black eyes swept through the crowd, taking in everyone and everything. His gaze slid over Sakura, then returned and lingered.

Despite everything, Sakura blushed under Sasuke's gaze. Beside her, Kakashi shifted away from the wall. A hand pressed almost imperceptibly against Sakura's lower back as Naruto approached, Sasuke trailing behind like a shadow. Sakura half turned toward Kakashi.

Naruto interrupted the pair before Sakura could get her thoughts in order. "Look guys, Sasuke made it back in time."

"So, he did," Kakashi answered for both of them, voice cool but not quite unfriendly. "Welcome back."

Sasuke turned, oozing arrogance as he inclined his head toward Kakashi. Dark eyes roved over Sakura a second time, an almost smile curling his lips. Even so, Sakura read the tension in his shoulders. Despite the years that had passed, Sasuke remained something of a pariah in the village. There were some groups who would never forgive or forget the time that he had spent trying to destroy the Leaf, despite Naruto's efforts to change their opinions. Sakura knew that Kakashi had helped save Sasuke from execution or life in prison, but the Hokage's intervention had ended there.

"Sasuke!" Ino appeared from nowhere, throwing her arms around Sasuke in a hug that the man shrunk away from. "Welcome back."

Sakura flashed her friend a thankful smile at the interruption. "You're looking well," Ino continued, pulling all of Sasuke's attention to herself by keeping her hands on his upper arms. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Maybe later," Sasuke answered, voice sounding strained as he shrugged away from Ino's touch. When she released him, the man turned and smiled. "Hello, Sakura."

Sakura couldn't remember how to draw a breath. A thick strand of black fell across Sasuke's eye, adding an air of mystery to his already captivating appearance. Warmth suffused her face when he moved closer, near enough to reach out and brush her cheek if he'd wanted. "Hi," she answered, toying with a silver bracelet circling one wrist.

Sasuke slid between Sakura and Kakashi, angling his body to face hers. "How have you been?"

"I've been doing well." Sakura's answer barely scratched the surface of everything that had happened in her life since the last time she saw Sasuke. She couldn't seem to remember a single event that she wanted to talk about. Yamato approached the small group and squeezed in beside Kakashi while running an appraising eye over Sasuke. He didn't acknowledge the Uchiha's presence. Instead, he leaned closer to Kakashi and whispered something in his ear.

Pulling her attention away from the exchange, Sakura realized that she'd been asked something. It would be rude not to keep talking to Sasuke, so she smiled. "How about you? How have you been?"

"I stay busy following up on leads," Sasuke answered, revealing nothing about his time outside of the village. Maybe he thought that Sakura wouldn't accept his reasons for leaving her behind, or maybe, he didn't care if she did.

After all, how could Sakura expect Sasuke to understand the hours of work that she poured into the hospital, sometimes losing a patient despite her best efforts? Would he care that she pushed herself in training as hard as she's ever done in case they went back to war? Sakura imagined Sasuke teasing her efforts to create orphanages in Konoha. Would he understand Sakura's version of sacrifice when it didn't align with his?

Sakura's eyes drifted back to her group of friends. Naruto stood beside Ino with a silly grin on his face, undoubtedly because Sakura and Sasuke were talking together. He still believed the two of them could make it work somehow. Yamato and Kakashi watched them both without seeming to do so. Sakura couldn't help but wonder if they deemed Sasuke as a security risk, even after all this time. Her gaze settled on the tension in Kakashi's jaw, wondering why he seemed on edge.

Kakashi understood the passion that drove Sakura to fight for those causes. Or, if not, he humored her. Sakura and Kakashi had worked hand in hand to train additional medical shinobi, create orphanages, and work through various issues at the hospital. She'd assumed that Kakashi wanted to see the same outcome that she did. Would Sasuke want that? Did it matter? He wouldn't be in the village long enough for it to make any difference.

Despite the way that things between them had changed, Sasuke still reduced Sakura to a lovesick teenager. It wasn't that her feelings had stayed the same, but Sakura had spent half of her life chasing after Sasuke. She couldn't shake the memory of nipping at his heels, of being willing to throw everything away if he'd only acknowledge her. As Sasuke spoke, Sakura's mind responded on autopilot, answering with soft laughs and smiles.

After several minutes, Ino caught Sakura's attention and half nodded toward Kakashi. He and Yamato had fallen silent, allowing the conversation to flow around them without interruption. Sakura raised her shoulders in a helpless shrug, silently asking what she was supposed to do about the situation. Ino frowned, then leaned in to speak. "So, Sasuke, did you know that Naruto and Hinata are dating?"

The question cut off the conversation. Surprise flitted across Sasuke's face as he looked over at Naruto. The blond's cheeks flamed crimson and he sputtered over his words "Well, Ino is dating Sai," he managed, red from his hairline to his chin.

Ino grinned, tossing her long hair over one shoulder with an air of dismissal. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Sai happens to be far more interesting than you'd anticipate. Not to mention adventurous."

The suggestive nature of Ino's comment made Naruto choke on his breath. His eyes bulged and Sakura couldn't help but laugh; he was still so innocent. Naruto grabbed Sasuke's arm. "Come on, it's definitely time for a drink."

Without waiting for an answer, Naruto pulled the Uchiha toward the barkeeper and further away from Ino's insinuations. Laughing, the girl watched them go. Then, she turned back to Yamato. "I thought you were going to dance with me? And, you," Ino studied Kakashi, "should dance with Sakura so she isn't left alone over here."

For all the nudging that Kakashi had done when Ino asked Yamato to dance, the man seemed less than enthused about taking his own advice. "It isn't befitting of the Hokage to indulge in-"

"Oh no you don't, senpai," Yamato interrupted, already pulling Kakashi away from the wall. "I did my duty, and now it's time for you to do yours. Off you go."

Yamato's brown eyes shone with an inordinate amount of amusement, and Sakura didn't know whether to be thankful that he was pushing Kakashi toward the dance floor, or embarrassed at being some type of twisted payback. Either way, the indecision lasted only a moment. Ino grabbed Yamato's hand and guided him toward the dancers, leaving Sakura alone with Kakashi on the edge of the room.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck as he turned to face Sakura. Embarrassment raised the temperature of the room several degrees until it felt impossible to draw a breath. "You don't have to dance with me," she murmured, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

"Ino and Yamato would never let me hear the end of it if we didn't." Kakashi held out one hand, and Sakura slid hers into it. Her pulse pounded in her ears when he leaned closer. "Besides, we only have to dance long enough to get them off our backs."

Sakura didn't trust her voice to speak without breaking, so she nodded and followed Kakashi onto the dance floor. Music blared over the speakers, bass line making her heart pound in tempo. She drew a deep breath and looked into the eyes that had been hidden for so long. Even now, months later, Sakura hadn't gotten used to seeing more of Kakashi's face. She remembered the intensity of his gaze on the training field and the way that she'd wanted to pull him close and lose themselves in the storm.

Just five seconds of insane courage, Ino's voice whispered in the back of Sakura's mind. She could press her body against Kakashi's under the guise of dancing and admit that she wanted more than that. Butterflies the size of elephants trampled over Sakura's chest. If Kakashi rejected her, it would hurt, but she could mask the pain long enough to make it home. Then, she'd be free to deal with fallout. She had done the same thing over Sasuke nearly a year ago. But, if Sakura never took a chance and told Kakashi, she'd never know if there could have been anything between them.

Kakashi spoke, interrupting Sakura's momentum. "You look different tonight."

"Ino begged me to let her try something special for Naruto's party." Sakura chewed her lip, wondering if the words were technically a lie. She wanted to look more enticing as well, more like Ino and less like herself, in hopes that she'd capture Kakashi's attention.

The tempo of the music increased; Sakura allowed her body to follow. She felt the hem of her dress riding up her thigh and tugged it down with one hand. Kakashi followed the movement then snapped his eyes back to her face. He asked something, but the words were lost in the din of the crowd. When Sakura scrunched up her face in confusion, he leaned closer. "For Sasuke?"

For you, Sakura thought, holding the words tight between her lips. The accusation in Kakashi's tone surprised her. "I didn't know he'd be here."

Kakashi inclined his head at the words, expression unreadable. He rested his hands at Sakura's waist without a hint of familiarity or desire. Kakashi moved to the music, half a foot between their bodies. Sakura flashed back to the way his arms had wrapped around her like a glove on the training field. He moved on protective instinct, not to get close to me. The realization left a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Sakura surrendered to the rhythm of the music, turning to present her back to Kakashi's chest so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze. She closed her eyes, willing the ache in her heart to stop. This entire situation was so stupid. Ino was right about everything; Sakura needed to tell Kakashi how she felt so that she could pick up the pieces and move on. She had done it before, and she could do it again.

Fingers curled against Sakura's hips, the thin fabric of her dress hardly masking the feel of Kakashi's touch. Sakura wasn't sure if he pulled her back, or if she moved of her own accord, but she felt the warmth of his breath against her neck. She focused on the sensation, electricity rushing through her body. His damn flak vest separated Sakura from the heat of his chest, but she imagined that she could feel it anyway.

The song ended and the weight of Kakashi's hands fell away as if it had never been. Light pulsed around them as another song started. Sakura turned back to face Kakashi, drawing a shaky breath. "Do you think that dance met their requirements, or should we do another, just to be sure?"

Sakura's name left Kakashi's lips in a strangled sound. Whatever he'd been planning to say was lost when someone bumped hard into his back. He stumbled through the almost nonexistent space between them. Sakura heard an apology, but she couldn't match the voice to a face before her arms were full of Kakashi. She stumbled backward under his weight, tripped over her heels, and then they were falling. Vaguely, some panicked part of Sakura's mind wondered if she was about to give everyone in the room a free peep show.

Kakashi twisted in the air so that Sakura wouldn't be crushed beneath him. His left shoulder absorbed most of the impact half a second before she hit his chest. The air whooshed out of Kakashi's lungs in a soft hiss as their bodies pressed together. Exposure forgotten, Sakura felt his hands grip her, one near her shoulder and the other dangerously low on her back. They were close enough for their noses to brush, Kakashi's eyes wide. The charcoal tone wasn't as dark as Sakura had anticipated, but shot with silver through the iris. She noticed the outline of Kakashi's lips beneath his mask. Kami, it would be so simple to—

"Hokage-sama?" Genma's familiar voice cut across Sakura's thoughts. The man pushed through the crowd to reach Kakashi's side, undoubtedly on guard duty for the night. Sakura raised her head to glare at his poorly conceived timing.

Kakashi released Sakura like he'd been burned, hands coming to the floor instead as he pushed into a sitting position. She half fell into his lap from the sudden change of position. "I'm fine," he answered the unasked question. "I'm hardly old enough to get injured from falling down."

"Especially beneath a beautiful woman," Genma quipped, flashing his senbon-studded grin. Then, his leer slid toward the woman in question and his expression changed to something contemplative as he offered a hand. "Oh, hey, Sakura."

Sakura had no choice but to accept Genma's offered hand. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she let the tokujo pull her away from Kakashi. Belatedly, she remembered to adjust the slinky dress lower on her thighs and higher over her chest. Hopefully everything had happened so quickly that she didn't have any reason to be embarrassed. A small crowd gathered around them. Kakashi pushed through them as the music started back up; Sakura followed him to the edge of the room.

"You aren't hurt are you, Hokage-sama," Ino gushed as she hurried to the pair's side. Her brow creased with worry when Kakashi tried to wave her off. Sakura barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her best friend. The ploy was obvious.

"I'm fine," Kakashi grumbled, looking distinctively embarrassed by the attention. "I'm not made of glass."

"Still," Ino pressed, reaching out like she might touch Kakashi's arm. "You hit your shoulder hard when you fell. I saw it."

Sakura could see the wheels turning in Ino's mind. No, please, Ino, don't do this. Sakura's silent plea fell on deaf ears. Kakashi raised his arm to prove that he could, but Ino didn't drop the subject. "You should let Sakura take a look at it, just to make sure. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

And, there it is, Sakura grumbled internally. Annoyance bled through Kakashi's embarrassment as he tried to wave the blonde's concerns away. Sakura interrupted the exchange before it could get out of hand. "Doesn't anyone care about me? I fell too."

"I could take a look at you," Genma offered with a cheeky grin from his position at Kakashi's shoulder. "In fact, it'd be my pleasure."

"No," Sakura and Kakashi answered in the same breath, dragging a knowing laugh from Genma. Kakashi looked almost as surprised as Sakura felt. Cheeks warming at the insinuation, she continued. "I don't need anyone to look at me, I am fine. But, shouldn't you be more worried about me?"

Genma chuckled in the back of his throat. "Because you're such a delicate little flower? I saw the damage you did to the training grounds the other night. I think I'd rather take my chances with Kakashi, to be honest."

"Probably for the best; she's stronger than you think." Sakura's stomach clenched at the unexpected praise from Sasuke. She hadn't noticed that he and Naruto had rejoined them in the chaos.

"Damn right she is," Ino answered, fighting to keep the attention on anything but Sasuke. Her eyes met Sakura's with silent pleading. While Sakura knew what Ino wanted, some things were easier said than done. Sasuke watched them with a smug satisfaction on his face that Sakura couldn't begin to understand as Ino continued. "What will Tsunade say if you leave Hokage-sama injured until tomorrow?"

Kakashi shook his head as Sakura groaned under her breath. She loved Ino, but sometimes the woman went a little overboard with her matchmaking. "Tsunade would say that it's nothing, and no more than I deserve if I can't keep my feet under me. But, if it'll put your mind at ease, I'll get it checked out."

"It would," Ino breathed out, her concern almost palpable. Sakura wondered why the woman didn't become an actress; she certainly had a knack for it. Ino pulled her forward. "There's no time like the present."

Kakashi cast a withering glance at Ino, then faced Sakura. For a moment, the rest of the room disappeared. Even the overwhelming presence of Sasuke shrank to insignificance. The sheepishness that Sakura had noticed earlier had evaporated, replaced by something darker in Kakashi's gaze. Though Sakura couldn't put her finger on it, the expression made chill bumps erupt on her arms. "Would you mind?"

It wasn't the first time that Sakura had healed Kakashi, not by a long shot. But, it was the first time that he'd asked. Sakura's heart did somersaults in her chest. "I don't mind," she breathed, forcing strength into her words. "But, not here. I need somewhere quieter, with better light."

Kakashi inclined his head as if the words made perfect sense. Naruto groaned, his voice turning whiny. "You're going to miss my party? This is the first time we've all been together in years."

"We won't be gone long," Kakashi assured the boy. "Just long enough to satisfy Sakura."

Ino choked on her laugh, eyes shining. Sakura's cheeks flamed crimson at the insinuation. Kakashi either didn't notice or didn't want to draw attention to it. He nodded toward the door. "Come on, let's get this over with, shall we?"

--------------------------

As she and Kakashi emerged from the pub, Sakura drew a breath of the chilly air. Naruto had been the only one to raise an objection to them leaving the party together, but Sakura felt the heat from a dozen gazes as they crossed the room. When they stepped into the street, Sakura's hand slipped out of Kakashi's, and neither made a move to retake it. He stared at the darkness, the stars above, and the benches by the door as they stood under the hazy light of the neon sign.

"I'm sorry that this took you away from the party," Kakashi began with a sigh. When his gaze turned to Sakura, it swept over her body in a way that suggested that he hadn't missed the tiniest facet of Ino's hard work. "You clearly wanted to be there."

"I can always go back later," Sakura answered, knowing that she wouldn't. She didn't want to face Sasuke or Ino after leaving with Kakashi, regardless of what happened next. Kakashi's shoulders seemed to tense at the response, but Sakura wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not. Undeniable nervousness settled in her gut.

Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "You don't really need to look at my shoulder. It's fine, but I needed an excuse to get out of there."

"I know," Sakura agreed. She would have realized if Kakashi was hurt, probably before he did. "But, I gave my word, so we should at least check it."

"Do you want to go to the hospital?" Kakashi moved down the street as he asked the question, forcing Sakura to follow on his heels. He didn't turn back when he continued. "Or, would my apartment be okay? It's closer."

Sakura's breath caught in her throat. She knew where Kakashi's apartment was, of course, but she'd never set foot inside of it. That he'd allow her into his world, even for a moment, stunned her. He continued walking, shoulders tight and hands stuffed into his pockets as he waited for an answer. "Your apartment is fine."

The silence gave Sakura unwanted time to think back over the night's events. She had seen appreciation in more than a few eyes when they noticed the changes that Ino had made, but she couldn't be sure that any of it had registered with Kakashi. He'd said she looked different, not better, not beautiful, just different. That word could mean a million things, or nothing at all. Ino was right though, if Sakura couldn't have Kakashi, she could always go home with someone else. Hell, even Sasuke had noticed and appreciated the extra effort in her appearance. There was only one problem, Sakura didn't want to go home with anyone else.

Sakura nearly walked into Kakashi's back when he stopped in front of her and nodded toward the steps leading up to his apartment. Though she knew it was entirely platonic, Sakura's heart pounded in her throat as she followed him higher. Kakashi unlocked the door, flicked the lights on, and pushed it wider. Sakura slid under his arm and into the room, taking in a million details at once.

Kakashi closed the door behind them and bent to remove his sandals. Sakura admired the smooth stretch of his body for a heartbeat longer than she should have. Tearing her eyes away, she rested one hand on the wall and bent down to unbuckle her heels. It felt good to be out of them, if it was only going to be for a few minutes.

"Does your shoulder hurt at all? They're notoriously fragile as far as joints go." When Kakashi didn't speak, Sakura opened her mouth to repeat the question, then had another idea. Five seconds of insane courage. She took two steps forward and reached for Kakashi's arm, the healing glow surrounding her hands.

When Sakura touched his shoulder, Kakashi startled and jerked away. 'I'm fine," he ground out. "You don't have to—"

"Your heart is pounding," Sakura responded in awe, letting her fingers fall away from his arm. The touch had been brief, but the spike in Kakashi's pulse was obvious.

Kakashi forced a harsh breath through his nose. "You're supposed to be checking my shoulder, not my heart."

Five seconds of insane courage. "Your shoulder," Sakura repeated, trying to think over the blood roaring in her ears. Just five seconds. She reached for the straps of Kakashi's flak vest.

[claire-connolly]

Claire and Beacon

A Continuation (Part 2)

Wordcount: 1.1k+

Author’s Note: Please excuse any and all editing mistakes because I rambled this out in writing form because I just love them too much thank you :P

Claire pulled her knees up to her chest, cradling a warm cup of tea in her hands. As skittish as she seemed, thunder and the rain gave her a fuzzy feeling. Dull electricity ran through her as the thunder rumbled through her bones, almost like a spiritual massage. Her rocking chair was always by the window, ready for rain or shine. 

After one long sip, Claire finished her tea, placing it down on the window sill. She had always been one to take things slow, and with the shop being closed she did not need to rush for anything. She stood up and took a big stretch, reaching out until her fingertips tingled.  After a moment she relaxed her muscles and padded over to the kitchen, being sure to bring her mug. 

After taking care of her mug, Claire walked over to the small window in her kitchen. She rested her head on the cool glass, looking out again. The rain made the view blurry, but Claire could still point out all her babies. She was thrilled at the fact they were getting a nice soak. The birdbath in the center of the garden was also getting full which meant more friends to visit.

Claire’s mind began to wander towards a very specific feathered friend. She had come to name a very peculiar raven Beacon. The poor bird had quite the habit of getting hurt and somehow always managed to make it back to Claire’s home to be fixed up.  Okay, so maybe Claire was the Beacon and not him, but the name stuck regardless.

She always worried about him on rainy days the most. The most stubborn bird she’d ever encountered, it wouldn’t surprise anyone who met him if he flew when he couldn’t see five feet ahead of him. That coupled with lightning was enough for that little nagging voice in the back of Claire’s head to keep an eye or ear out for him. 

Claire furrowed her brow and a shiver ran down her spine, something in the universe just shifted out of alignment. Maybe it was a tree that fell? The rain was coming down pretty hard outside. It happened every other storm, but this time felt different. It wasn't just a shift she felt, something felt wrong. 

Caw

Claire’s eyes widened and she ran out her door, not bothering to put on shoes. She ran through the grass, trying to find where the cawing was coming from. 

“Beacon? Beacon Where are you?” she called out, moving her soaked curls from her eyes. The caws continued loudly and Claire followed them until she came across the familiar black bird.

“Oh, you poor darling let's get you inside, yeah?” Claire whispered, scooping him up into her arms no problem and bringing him indoors. 

She padded over to the closet and grabbed some towels, wrapping Beacon up before she started to dry herself up.

“So what were you doing out in that rain, huh?” Claire asked softly, taking the thoroughly burrito-wrapped Beacon into her arms once she was dry. She brought him over to the rocking chair and sat with him on her lap. He cooed, more quietly than usual, and tried to brush off the towel.

“Alright I’ll get this off, that doesn't answer the question though” she murmured, gently unwrapping him. Beacon let out a loud caw and she unwrapped him fully, exposing his right wing bent in a completely incorrect direction. 

Claire gasped and gently took his wing in her hands, brushing the feather delicately. “ Oh, my stars what happened? How did this happen, love this is…. This is really bad I can't even sugarcoat it” she whispered, gently moving the wing back and forth. 

“I don’t think I can take care of this myself, I might have to take you to someone. But we’ll stay here until the rain stops, okay? I have to make a call” she murmured as Beacon grumbled sounds of discomfort. 

*Time Skip*

“The good news is that his health won’t be affected” noted the Vet. Claire had managed to make friends with the local vet and with her affinity for healing animals, she was a perfect choice.

“ The bad news is I don’t think that he’ll be able to fly again. The way the bones look they're set to heal won’t give him enough balance to fly, at least not for long distances. Maybe two feet in the air if he gets used to it” she explained, closing the wing to Beacon’s body and wrapping it around him. Beacon grumbled and hopped about once it was done, attempting to fly a few times but failing without access to his other wing.

“You said he wasn't domestic, right? If you wanted I could refer him to a nearby sanctuary where he could stay” the vet suggested. Claire paused and thought for a moment. He wasn't domestic and he wasn't hers. Yes, she loved him to pieces. Yes, whenever she heard his call she got excited. But they were just meant to exist in passing, no? He wasn't her pet, he was her buddy. Her goofy, clumsy, avian buddy. Her buddy that gave her an attitude when there were more peanuts than berries. Her buddy that loved to startle her customers and then become their new best friend.  

Maybe she was being dramatic, it's not like an animal sanctuary was the end of the world. But that made it so much harder for her to see him. He popped in whenever he wanted to, he couldn't do that there. 

“Actually would it be possible for me to watch him? If I kept him with me and made sure he was safe and healing as best he could” Claire offered, crossing her fingers behind her back.

“Well… I think I’d have to pretend that you didn't tell me you were going to do that, but lucky for you I did theatre in University” she teased softly, “Do come in to keep checking on him though, but you’ll say he came to you for help from the wild, it's technically illegal to have them as pets.”

“Lucky for me he’s not a pet, just a distinguished guest” Claire grinned “And I have no issues dancing around the law, especially for Beacon.”

“Another thing that I'm pretending to not hear. Well he’s all wrapped up so I'll send in the prescription for some pain medication for him and then you’re free to go” grinned the vet, leaving the examination room. 

Claire walked over to the table and bent down to look at Beacon. “Well, I really hope you like our sleepovers bud because we’ll be having a lot more. Let’s get out of this gross place and back home.”

Claire held her hand out to Beacon, which he gratefully hopped on. Claire lifted her arm and delicately placed him on her shoulder, “I figure if you can’t get height on your own, I can help!” she beamed. Beacon nuzzled her cheek and hair as Claire walked out of the room, grabbing the prescription before going home with her best friend.

[anjanettexcordonia]

Secrets

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir A/U

Rating/Triggers: Mature (18+); domestic violence

Pairings: Drake x MC, Liam x MC (kinda) 

Word count: 1254 (+/-)

A/N: Please excuse any grammatical errors. 

A/N: I have been on a hiatus due to personal circumstances (Dumpster Fire 2021 comin at ya) but this is hopefully my comeback! Thanks for sticking with me! 

Disclaimer: Some characters & some scenes belong to Pixelberry. I have been working on this on and off since November 2020. Hope ya enjoy. 

Tags: If you would like to be added or removed please let me know. 

HUGE SHOUT OUT TO @txemrn (without her I would have never finished) & @jessiembruno for pre-reading (even if you don’t remember) 

Chapter 1

Liam sat alone at a small circular table with high backed cushioned stools in a pizzeria in New York City. He couldn’t ever visit New York without having an authentic slice of New York style pizza. He sat staring out the large picture window at the snow falling steadily. A large greasy slice of in front of him. He was consumed in his own feelings of loneliness and isolation when the silhouette of a figure caught his attention standing on the sidewalk. He squinted his eyes to try to get a better view through the falling snow. Liam watched as a petite raven haired woman with a white pea coat wrapped tightly around her attempted to hail a cab in front of the shop. A cab flew by her and spewed snow at her causing her to slip on the icy sidewalk beneath her. Liam jumped from his table and ran out the front door of the restaurant to help her. 

“Miss, are you okay?” Liam asked as he held out his hand to the beautiful dark haired woman. 

“Oh... uh... I’m fine. Thank you, uh, thank you for your help sir.” 

The woman replied brushing her long blue black tendrils from her face. She attempted to pull herself from the ground unsuccessfully without taking his hand. Liam hoisted her up by her elbow anyway. 

“I’m Liam.” His bright blue eyes shown through the moonlight drawing Alexa into them.

Alexa took a step back avoiding eye contact. “Liam, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Liam nodded his head with a warm smile. A megawatt smile that would make any girl's heart skip a beat. Alexa’s breath hitched at the crooked smile he gave her. 

“Goodbye then.” Alexa turned and walked away in the opposite direction. 

Liam was intrigued by the woman. He felt a strange tingle down his spine when his eyes met hers. Those eyes. He had never seen anything like them. One eye a golden honey, the other ice blue with flecks of grey. He hoped to see her again; but, in this bustling city with the population of almost half of his small Mediterranean country, what were the chances of that? 

 Liam stood in silence, staring up at the Statue of Liberty. She was a beacon of freedom he could never fully grasp. At home, he was Heir Apparent to the throne of an absolute monarchy; his citizens kissed his feet in belief his bloodline was touched by God, like most kings of the past.  Unlike in his country, the United States of America, where every citizen was free to choose. Free to elect their leaders. Free to not feel the pressures of leading a country from birth. He hoped to be a good king one day. He hoped to establish a balance of power within his country without undermining its traditions. He hoped to lead his country to a constitutional monarchy, not absolute. He envied this country that was built on freedom. Who would he have been born here? Who would he be without the crown? He thought back to his childhood friend, the only American he really knew. He had met American diplomats, sure, but never knew much about them. Those mismatched eyes flash in his mind. The shiny dark curls that framed those beautiful eyes hidden deep in his mind. 

“Sir?” 

A voice startled Liam breaking his thoughts and snapping him back to reality. 

“Bastien?” 

Liam’s head of security had slinked from the shadows. 

“We found him, sir. I’ve contacted his secretary. Dinner is scheduled for tomorrow night.” The guard spoke in a stern yet soft voice. 

“Thank you, Bastien.” Liam’s thoughts returned to his former friend. 

Drake Walker was his best friend. They grew up together until Drake went off to college in America. Drake's mother was an American and his father was Cordonian. His father was a top military general in the King’s Guard. Jackson Walker, Drake’s father, was killed in the line of duty and his mother and sister went back to America after his tragic loss. They had promised to stay in touch after Drake left. Time ticked by and communication had dwindled. It had been five years since they had last spoken. Last Liam knew, Drake was still in New York. He had become a big shot real estate developer living on the Upper East Side. Bastien had tried to contact Drake after an assassination attempt on Liam’s life, but Drake never returned the call. 

Across town, Alexa was feeling anxious after her encounter with the kind stranger, Liam. If she had been seen conversing with a handsome man or any man for that matter her husband would not be happy, especially as handsome as he was. His smile and bright eyes flashed through her mind. She was rushing to get home before her husband. He wouldn’t be happy if she were late. Punctuality was very important to him, but only when it came to her. 

Alexa made it home just in the nick of time. She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t home yet. She was hoping he would be late. Alexa winced, peeling her coat from her limbs. She hung her coat on the coat rack. She threw her snow covered boots in the hall closet. She felt a stinging pain in her back when she bent down. She lifted her shirt in the hallway mirror and saw a bright purple bruise from her fall forming. Fuck, he will have questions if he sees this.. 

“Alexa, where are you?” 

She heard the front door open and keys being tossed furiously on the entry table. 

“Hello, dear,” Alexa rounded the hallway to the living room. “Um, how--how was your day?” she stutters. 

“It was fine,” he answered coldly, his gaze glued to his phone. “I received a strange phone call on my way home.” 

“Oh?” Alexa felt her heart begin to race. Surely no one saw me. “From who?”

He scoffs. “An old friend from childhood would like to have dinner tomorrow night. 6pm sharp. Nobu.” He kicks off his shoes as he feverishly texts on his cell. “You will meet me there. Do not dress too provocatively. And try  not to embarrass me this time.” She could sense the aggravation in her husband’s voice. “I’m going to change and go out. Don’t wait up.” 

Alexa stared at her feet as she nodded her head complacently.

The next evening, Alexa stared at herself in the mirror in a black chiffon dress with plunging neckline and strappy Christian Louboutins. Her long dark hair flowed in loose curls down her back. She was already dreading this dinner. She knew her husband would find something she did to humiliate him;she would regret it later. She arrived promptly at the upscale restaurant. Her husband was waiting with the maitre’d for her. He forced a smile. 

“Alexa,” he placed his hand on her lower back. Her skin crawled at the feel of his hand “Do not embarrass me,” he whispered as he guided her to the private table. 

“Drake,” the man at the table said warmly. 

“Rhys, so good to see you,” Drake said in a tone Alexa didn’t recognize. His tone was calm and smooth. 

“And who’s this?” The warm baritone voice of her husband’s childhood friend asked. 

“This is my wife Alexa Walker. Lex, this is Liam.” 

Alexa’s head immediately snapped up at the name. Liam immediately recognized her unique eyes, an instant connection flowed through the room, almost tangible.

Domestic Abuse Hotline: 1.800.799.SAFE

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Worthy, pt 1 & 2

I stopped and stared up at the building in front of me. Imposing, huge, and a beacon for anyone concerned with clean energy. I had won the internship at Stark Industries research and development division by working my ass off all year, coming up with innovative and exciting ways to utilize the arc reactor technology. I’d been interviewed by Mr. Stark himself when it came time to award the position. I’d never been so excited to work in an unpaid position in my life. It was made all the better by being in New York City. And even more awesome because accommodation was provided in the tower. Even if the internship didn’t lead to permanent employment at Stark Industries after my sojourn there, it would be a resume jackpot. 

I stopped at the main security desk and picked up my passcard. Elizabeth Carmichael. It sounded much more glamourous than Ella did, but I’d never been called Elizabeth in my entire life. Always Ella, except from my Nan, who called me Bethy. I clipped the tag on my blouse and headed to the elevator. The email from the HR department had been clear: pick up your passcard, and report to the main office of R&D on the 55th floor. I pressed the button and waited for the elevator to close. A hand reached in to stop the door and Mr. Stark stepped in. He smiled, like he would to anyone he shared the elevator with, and then his eyes narrowed as he read my nametag.

“Ms. Carmichael! You’ve made it to the city then? Where are your bags? Are you not staying on site?” He spoke so fast I could barely follow him.

“My flight arrived late last night. I thought I would stay at a hotel overnight and then get organized to move into my room, sir.” I felt breathless just trying to keep up with his speech, and rushed through my own explanation.

“We’ll send someone to collect your things. We’re having a little social in the lounge tonight; you don’t want to miss it. Good networking opportunities. There are three of you that earned internships. Pepper was particularly excited about you. Not a lot of women in STEM, you know. So we’re having a meet and greet for the three of you. Mostly Stark staff, but there'll be some others in attendance. Angela will get you organized.” There was even information stored in the nuances of how he spoke. It was going to be overwhelming until I got used to it. If I got the chance to get used to it. This elevator interaction might be the last time I saw Mr. Stark for the rest of the summer. The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out into the bright, clean research and development administrative office. I waited at the desk while the woman sitting there was on a call. Her nameplate said Angela, so I suspected she was who Mr. Stark said would organize me.

“Ella, right?” She swivelled her chair to face me. I nodded. “I’ve already contacted the concierge at your hotel to have your belongings sent over. I’ll show you to your rooms at the end of your orientation and tour. Then you can get settled.”

“I won’t be working?” I was surprised.

“Not today. Today is all about the Stark Industries machine and how you fit into it. So orientation to the labs, meet some of the people you’ll be working under, settling into your suite and figuring out your way around. There’s a meet and greet tonight.” She typed something into her computer and then rose. Without waiting for me, she headed off down a hallway. “This is the administrative floor for Research and Development. R&D takes twenty floors here, from 55 to 75. Starting at the 76th floor, the Avengers Tower begins, and you’ll only end up there if Mr. Stark wants to meet with you. Well, and for the mixer tonight. The 56th and 57th floors are all housing. Our guest scientists are housed on 56 and your suite is on 57. The project you’ve been assigned to is an offshoot of the household arc reactor project, and will allow you to work on one of your proposals. That division is on 60 through 65. Your direct supervisor is Markus Reid.” I scrambled to scribble notes and keep up with her and she led me through a maze of hallways and offices. We finally came to a halt and I was so busy scratching notes into my notebook that I bumped into her.

“Oh, god. Sorry,” I apologized. She smiled and shook her head.

“Relax, Ella. You were the top candidate. Your proposals rocked Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts' socks off. You belong here,” she reassured me. “And I’m going to email all this info to you, so you can put away your notebook.”

“Thanks. I’m feeling a bit small right now,” I admitted.

“The first few days are very overwhelming for every Stark Industries employee. It’s why we schedule nothing work-related on the first day.” She knocked on a door and hesitated just a second before opening it. “I have Elizabeth Carmichael here to sign some paperwork.” She led me into the office, and sat in a chair near the door after pointing to a chair at the desk. Another woman smiled and dropped a sheaf of paper in front of me.

“The bottom half of that is the paperwork for you that explains everything in the top half. But this is a basic non-disclosure agreement. The second one is the follow up to the initial waiver you signed when you applied for the internship, giving proprietary rights to Stark Industries, while maintaining your intellectual property, authorship and development rights. That basically means if what you’re working on goes into production, it will be a Stark Industries product, but you will be credited as the inventor. There’s some tax paperwork and a release for your university.” The woman handed me a pen. I looked up at her while I tried to process everything she’d explained.

“Tax paperwork?”

“For your pay.”

“Oh, I’m here for the internship. I’m not paid.” I thought that would be clear to an HR person.

“No, Mr. Stark pays his interns. It makes the transition when you are hired easier,” she explained.

“What?”

“Did you not read your acceptance package?” She gave me a look that suggested she thought I might be stupid.

“I did. It suggested that if Stark Industries was happy with my performance, I could be offered an extension at the end of the internship, provided my degree was complete.” At least, that’s what I’d understood from reading it.

“And you’ve already provided transcripts showing you’ve finished both your bachelor’s and master’s degrees. There were only three internships offered, Ms. Carmichael. We complete all your paperwork now with the assumption that you will be staying on at Stark Industries. If you’ve passed our rigorous application process, we feel you are a keeper. If you choose not to stay, it will be because you chose not to stay,” She explained. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I knew the internship was prestigious, but I didn’t realize exactly how incredible it was.

“Oh. Well. In that case,” I said and scratched my signature across the papers in front of me. She offered her hand. I stood and shook it.

“Welcome to Stark Industries, Ms. Carmichael.”

XXX

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Angela assured me that her email would include maps, and secret notes and tidbits that would help me remember everything, but I was so floored from the words of the HR person that I really couldn’t focus. Angela led me to the commissary for lunch and ordered for both of us. I didn’t even realize until she handed me a tray with food on it.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asked. I gave my head a little shake to snap back to reality and smiled in apology.

“Sorry. I’m feeling even more overwhelmed than I was when I got out of the cab this morning,” I laughed. She took a seat at a table and nodded for me to sit across from her.

“You should give yourself some credit. You earned your place here. Pepper is really excited about having you. I suspect you’ll be the poster child for gender equality at Stark Industries for some time to come. As soon as you won that internship, your place here was secured. Probably for life,” she grinned. I shook my head.

“What if I’m a dud?”

“You aren’t though. Mr. Stark himself thoroughly vetted your application, and Pepper went through your references with a fine tooth comb. She even tracked down extra references. You deserve this more than anyone who’s ever applied before, Ella.”

“I feel like I might be sick,” I groaned. It was her turn to shake her head.

“It’s first day jitters. Once you’ve settled into a routine and have your nose into all that sciencey stuff you do, it’ll all blow over,” She laughed. I didn’t want to pick a fight so I just focussed on my lunch.

XXX

My suite was ridiculous. I’d understood we’d be provided with a room. In my mind, I had thought dormitory style, like at university. I was quickly learning Tony Stark did nothing by halves. I had a suite. First of all, the whole thing was fully furnished. The master bedroom had the biggest bed I’d ever seen in it, and an ensuite bathroom with a shower bigger than my last dorm room. There was a second bedroom, I’m not sure why. Plus an office, an open floor plan living room and kitchen and a main bathroom. There was a storage closet that I’m pretty sure could have kept a small family comfortable. And a deck with a view of the city. I opened the fridge and discovered it had been fully stocked already. I grabbed a bottle of water and stood at the counter, the overwhelming feeling of just too much washing across me again. There was a bound book on the counter, and when I flipped through it, I realized it was a Stark Tower lifestyle guide, with information about the pool, the gym, the on-site movie theatre, the commissary, and on and on. There was a tablet on the wall that allowed you to order in take-away or groceries. Housekeeping was once a week. I pinched myself to make sure it wasn’t a dream, fully expecting to awaken back in the dorm room at the university. But I didn’t.

I unpacked my bags and checked my email for the details on the get together. Casual evening wear. What was that, even? I grabbed my phone and texted Angela. Whether she liked it or not, she was my new bestie. 

“What does casual evening wear mean?”

“Nothing too fancy. Knee length dress is more appropriate than floor length.”

“I’ve been in university for the last nine years. I have nothing even remotely appropriate.”

“I’m on it. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

XXX

“I’m sorry, Angela, I just didn’t know who else to ask.” I felt like all I was doing was apologizing to her. She laughed.

“You’re my assignment for the next few weeks. And you are so much nicer than the last new hire I was paired with. I can see actually wanting to spend time with you,” she laughed.

“Really? You’re my personal person?” I arched an eyebrow. She laughed again.

“Something like that. Human Resources likes to pair someone from admin to new hires as an orientation guide. It’s a pretty awesome job, to be honest. I get to meet most of the new people on their way in the door. Make lots of new friends. Meet lots of cute science nerd guys.” She winked. I laughed.

“And yet you don’t mind being assigned me. I must be very special indeed,” I teased.

“You’re little lost puppy eyes sucked me right in,” she giggled. “Come on, let’s get you a dress.” It felt like she dragged me all over town, but the truth was, we didn’t go far, and we only visited a couple of stores. I tried on everything she brought to me, and let her tell me what looked best. I was most comfortable in jeans, a t-shirt and a lab coat, so I trusted her judgement. We were a whirlwind of activity after picking the dress. She steered me over to a shoe store, and then a make-up store. I didn’t even realize there was such a thing as a make-up store. I only kept mascara in my bathroom because my eyelashes were so light you couldn’t see them without a bit of mascara on them. 

When we finally got back to the building, I wanted nothing more than to take a nap. Angela shooed me into the shower and ordered us some dinner instead. She helped me with my hair and then sat me down to eat.

“Do you wear contacts ever?” She asked. I pushed my glasses up my nose and shook my head.

“No, they don’t make contacts for eyes like mine,” I admitted.

“Okay. I can work with that,” she looked at me thoughtfully and chewed on her pizza. Before I knew it, she was rearranging my hair, and applying make-up and amazingly, although I’d honestly never thought I’d enjoy the fuss that went along with dressing up, I did enjoy myself. It helped that Angela kept a running commentary of exclamations about how pretty I was, and how nice my eyes were. I never had thought there was anything particularly special about my brown hair and brown eyes. I changed my mind when Angela let me look in the mirror. My hair was loose and wavy, and cascaded over my shoulders. The red dress she’d found for me highlighted that my hair was more than one shade of brown, and brought out the natural glow in my cheeks. My eyes, despite being framed behind my glasses, looked big and sparkly.

“Wow.”

“You’ll have half the R&D guys begging for your number by the end of the night!” Angela laughed. I blushed.

“I don’t know about that,” I protested. She laughed again.

“Come on. I’ll be your wingman.” She linked arms with me and led me out the door and to the elevator. XXX

The crushing feeling of inadequacy hit me again as the elevator opened up to let us out into the cocktail party. I hesitated at the gap between the elevator and the large, noisy room. Angela gave me a gentle nudge, but I froze, taking in the panorama in front of me. Almost every scientist I’d ever quoted in any of my research was standing in that room, mingling with one another. When Tony Stark isn’t the biggest name in a room, it can make you pause. I’m pretty sure I recognized the most recent recipient of the Nobel Prize in physics standing by the bar. And Dr. Banner was lingering near the door to the patio and pool deck, looking exceptionally uncomfortable. At least he was near an exit where he could cool off and relax if he needed to. His research was what drove me into the sciences. In the end, I decided gamma radiation wasn’t really the area I was passionate about, and pursued research that put me in Stark’s path. But he was still kinda my hero. 

“If you don’t step off this elevator right now, I’m going to push you off, and then you’ll draw a lot more attention to yourself than if you act like a normal person.” Angela had my number already. I stepped into the party tentatively. Angela steered me straight to the bar. “Let’s get a drink into you, loosen you up a little. These people have all been where you are, Ella. What’s your poison?”

“Vodka, rocks.” My eyes were glued to the room, and I just kept recognizing more and more people. Surely they all didn’t work for Stark Industries. I would have noticed that at some point during my application process. Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts saw me as Angela handed me my drink. Ms. Potts smiled in welcome and headed straight to me. I didn’t have time to panic.

“Ms. Carmichael! I’m so pleased to see you. You look a bit like a canary in a room of cats. Don’t. They’re all harmless. And some of them are very excited to discuss your proposals with you,” she took my hand and squeezed it familiarly. It was not at all like my boss was shaking my hand, but more like a friend greeting me.

“It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Potts.” I managed, and took a sip from my glass. 

“Please, Pepper is fine. We’ll reserve the formality for press releases,” she smiled. “Are you settling into your rooms?”

“I am. They’re much more than I was expecting. Everything about this internship is more than I was expecting,” I blurted. I was nervous enough that I took a perhaps-larger-than-it-should-have-been swallow from my glass and nearly choked.

“We’re so pleased you accepted, Ms. Carmichael,” Pepper gushed. “Really. I’m sure Angela has filled you in about the women in STEM initiative Stark Industries is backing.”

“If I’m going to call you Pepper, you’re going to have to call me Ella. Angela mentioned a little about it, but I didn’t realize there was an entire initiative.” The combination of vodka and talking shop with Pepper was starting to ease my nerves, and I could feel the tension starting to melt from my shoulders.

“We’re starting summer and weekend science and technology camps for girls. I’m hoping you’ll be able to find some time to work with me on promoting them. I think Angela has scheduled a meeting for us sometime in the next few days,” she explained. 

“That would be really cool.” I took another sip. There wasn’t much left in my glass. I was going to need to slow down. Mr. Stark was watching the crowd, but I could tell that his head was in our conversation.

“I hope you’ll come out of your shell a little, Ms. Carmichael. You were vibrant during the interview process. I hope that wasn’t a one-off. It’ll be hard to sell STEM as cool with a mousy science nerd girl as the PR star.” He was suddenly back in the conversation full force. I flushed.

“Tony! It’s first-day nerves. We can’t all be the shiniest constellation in the sky all the time,” Pepper scolded him. “Don’t pay attention to him, Ella. Parties bring out the worst of his quirks.” The way she said it, I could almost see the air-quotes hanging in the air around the word quirks. I smiled.

“I promise you, Mr. Stark. I can be just as shiny as you need me to be when surrounded by young women. It’s when I’m in the presence of the likes of Dr. Banner and Dr. McCoy that I tend to get star-struck. And I think, did I see Reed Richards?” I found my voice. Mr. Stark smiled.

“Since we’re all making friends, you may as well call me Tony,” he allowed. “I make sure my best and brightest get a chance to meet the best and brightest.”

“As much as I appreciate the opportunity, it’s just a little overwhelming.” I felt it was only fair to be honest with them, since they were my employers. Pepper squeezed my hand again.

“I have no doubt, after speaking to your references, that you will be everything that we are looking for, Ella,” she reassured me. I took another sip from my glass, and Tony suddenly noticed it in my hand.

“Please tell me that’s not water. We have a strict no water at parties rule here at Stark Industries.” Mr. Stark took my glass away and finished what was left. He coughed and handed it back. “Oh, I think you’re going to fit in here quite well, Mouse.” Angela took the glass from me and got a fresh one from the bar. I reminded myself to go slow. There was no point in getting drunk in front of such an auspicious crowd on my first day.

Angela led me around to a number of people I would be working with, including my direct supervisor, Markus Reid. He shook my hand with enthusiasm and launched into a long-winded explanation of my project and how it would fit in with his project. I found myself lingering with him for longer than was probably necessary. He was passionate about his work with the arc reactor technology and he reminded me of my thesis supervisor, ready to help and happy to share whatever advances he had discovered. It was the lynchpin in making me settle for the evening. If my supervisor was excited to have me, no one else really mattered. Angela’s face lit up and she excused me from the conversation. 

“Shut up. You are not going to believe this. I have someone to introduce to you!” She exclaimed. I followed her as she led me across the lounge and toward the windows overlooking the outside deck. I couldn’t figure out who she wanted me to meet, but the last person who’d been near where we were headed was Dr. Banner, and I was sure she’d seen him earlier. She slowed to a more dignified walk and led me to Dr. Banner. He was chatting with a petite brunette who looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her. Dr. Banner looked up and acknowledged Angela as he finished what he was saying to the other woman.

“Angela, you always walk with such purpose.” His tone was warm, and he gripped her hand with both of his. It was obvious from Angela’s relaxed posture that they’d worked with each other a few times.

“Comes with the job. This is Elizabeth Carmichael, one of the new interns here at Stark,” she introduced me. “Ella, this is Bruce Banner.” She paused and turned toward the woman. “And if I’m not mistaken, this is Dr. Jane Foster?”  Dr. Banner shook my hand and nodded toward Dr. Foster.

“So pleased to meet you, Dr. Banner. It was your work that led me into the sciences.” I tried not to gush. I don’t think I was successful.

“Really? My understanding was that physics and engineering were your specialties,” he asked. My heart nearly stopped. He knew my areas of study. My science geek girl idol knew my specialties.

“I got really into green energy during my undergrad studies, and my focus switched,” I admitted.

“And my accident had nothing to do with that?” He raised an eyebrow. I laughed and realized that might not have been the best response. I bit back my smile and shook my head.

“Actually, no. Your accident happened when I was in first year, and I stuck with my studies as a minor. It was when it was time to begin my master’s that I felt I could do more good, with my level of knowledge, if I pursued green energy,” I explained. He looked thoughtful.

“And once again, Bruce, I point out that your accident has significantly less effect on the opinions of others than you think,” Dr. Foster jumped in, and offered her hand. I shook it. “Such a pleasure to meet you, Ella. Tony has been beside himself with excitement about your thesis. I think the other two interns might be getting the short end of the stick.”

“Except that there is no short end of the stick at Stark,” Banner argued. Dr. Foster laughed and nodded.

“It’s so true. I wish these internships had existed when I was struggling for funding.” she looked past my shoulder, distracted. I turned and followed her gaze until it lit on the most beautiful man I think I’d ever seen. He was tall, and blond, and broad, with a big smile and an equally large laugh. And from the way Dr. Foster was looking at him, I realized he must be Thor. “I didn’t realize he was going to be here.” The smile fell from her face.

“I’m sorry, Jane, I had no idea. Why would he be here? He’s not one of you sciencey types,” Angela apologized. Dr. Foster turned to me and shook my hand again.

“It was truly lovely to meet you, Ella. I look forward to watching your project. If you ever need anything, Angela can get you in touch with me. Even if it’s just a woman-to-woman bitchfest. We STEM ladies need to stick together.” She excused herself and made her way quickly to the elevator. Angela and I watched her as the elevator doors closed. I was disappointed, but turned back to Dr. Banner. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Thor stepping up to us.

“Banner, my friend! It has been too long since we’ve met. You look well!” Everything about Thor was big. He pulled Dr. Banner into one of those one-armed-man-hugs, his massive arms straining against the confines of his t-shirt. He towered over both of us. He released Dr. Banner and turned to Angela and I. If I looked anything like Angela did, I was gawking like a slack-jawed idiot. I nudged her gently and she closed her mouth.

“Ladies, it is well to make your acquaintance. I am Thor, of Asgard,” he introduced, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Angela.

“Ella Carmichael.” I couldn’t form any other words. There was just so much of him, and it was so close. I was completely star-struck in a way I’d never been about a fellow scientist. He took Angela’s hand.

“Angela Benett,” she breathed. I was so glad I wasn’t the only one on the verge of swooning. The man was truly a specimen. Banner cleared his throat, and I snapped my attention back over to the man who had arguably been the first crush of my science geeky heart.

“What brings you here, Thor?” he asked. Thor turned back to him and smiled his ridiculous, large, beautiful smile.

“I had need to speak to Tony. I’d not realized it was a celebration, or I would have come tomorrow. Twas not urgent,” he explained. “And I am afraid I have chased Jane from her colleagues.” There was regret in his tone. Things were obviously over with them, not merely bumpy or awkward. 

“He said twas,” I whispered to Angela. She stifled a giggle. I’m not sure why it was so amusing, other than that I had finished my second vodka. I’m not sure what her excuse was; I knew she hadn’t been drinking. “I hope we’ll get a chance to talk more about what you’re studying now, Dr. Banner.” I had to excuse myself before I made an idiot of myself in front of Dr. Banner and Thor. Angela followed me to the deck. I stretched out on a deck chair and looked up at the sky. Stark Tower was so high that it seemed to be above the smog of the city. There was still loads of light pollution, but I was reassured that the stars were the same in New York City as they were at home in Washington. We sat quietly for a few minutes.

“Thanks for being my sidekick, Angela,” I sighed. “I don’t know if I’d have made it through the afternoon, let alone this evening, without your assistance.”

“Well, like I said, it’s my job. But paycheque aside, you’re alright, Ella,” she chuckled.

“I’m glad you think so. I don’t know if I can afford Stark wages to keep you as a friend.” Across the deck something caught my eye, and I slipped off my shoes to walk over to it. Angela must have seen it too because she followed curiously. It was the biggest damn hammer I’ve ever seen in my life, just sitting on a low table beside the pool. It was fancy, tooled with knotwork. I ran my hand over it. I wasn’t sure what it was made of. It had the warm feel of vibranium, but it almost seemed to hum under my hand. I slid my hand up the leather wrapped handle. The grip was comfortable. I squeezed the handle, and felt the give of the leather wrap against my hand.

“I don’t know if you should be playing with that, Ella,” Angela warned.

“What do you suppose it is? It feels like it’s got more of a purpose than just a giant paperweight, or decoration,” I thought out loud, flexing my fingers along the handle. It felt like it needed to be held. I might not be describing that properly, but it was almost like it spoke to me. Which clearly suggested I’d had too much to drink.

“I haven’t seen it before, but I don’t get up into this part of the tower much. Is it heavy? Maybe it’s a prop or a prototype or some sort,” Angela shrugged. I adjusted my grip on the handle and prepared myself to lift it, assuming it would be ridiculously heavy. I was surprised when after a slight tug of resistance, I was able to heft the thing in the air. The air around us crackled with static, and suddenly a shock ran through my body, from the hand that was holding the hammer through to my feet.  Everything around me slowed down, almost like slow motion in the movies. I looked up at Angela and saw Thor and Dr. Banner running towards us over her shoulder. Thor was reaching out, his mouth forming some kind of words, but I couldn’t hear them. I felt the hammer tug out of my hand and it flew away from me. The electricity left my body and I collapsed on the pool deck.

“What the actual fuck?” I muttered before blackness overtook my thoughts.

[christinesficrecs]

Hey Christine, I hope you are doing fine in these strange times. I wanted to ask you if you happen to know any good fics where Derek is 10 - 20 years older than Stiles. I once read a fic where Derek was Sheriff Stilinskies friend and falls in love with his 18 year old son Stiles. But I can't find it anymore. Maybe you know it. Thank you for everything you do for us.

Hey! Strange indeed. 😱  I hope you are well! I think I might know which fic you mean but the rest I’m totally just guessing at. 🤷🏻‍♀️  I do read older!derek it’s just usually completely by accident. 

Also, you could try the big brother tag here and maybe the businessman!derek tag here. 

I Just Wanna Be With You Every Day by Brego_Mellon_Nin | 33.9K | Explicit

When his best friend’s son barrels into the kitchen only dressed in a pair of skintight jeans, lean but defined torso on display, Derek knows he’s truly and utterly fucked. Not only is the kid barely eighteen, but he also happens to be the Sheriff’s only son.

Derek makes a vow to himself that he will not seek Stiles out and he’ll get this thing under control.

Wolf Pack: Beacon Original by Beerwolves, fearfrost1211 | 33.1K

When his father landed the Deputy Chief of police position in Beacon Hills, Stiles moved to his new town gladly, embracing the chance of a fresh start. What he didn’t expect was to find himself hopelessly drawn to the gruff Vice President of the local motorcycle gang, the Wolf Pack. Derek Hale, resident bad boy of Beacon Hills, spent his time helping his sister lead the Wolf Pack and working on motorcycles at his family’s automotive garage. Then, one hot summer afternoon a bright-eyed boy walked into his life and turned his world upside down.

How Derek Got His Groove Back by WhoNatural | 4.3K | Explicit

Cora kicks him under the table. “Do you have the hots for the baby lawyer?” she hisses urgently, and Derek blinks at her, feeling his face heat.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s young enough to be my--”

“Younger brother,” she cuts in, and shakes her head. “Age difference excuses do not fly with me. Are you gonna ask him out? Derek, you need to do something about that.”

“About what?” he says, frowning, watching as Stiles sits down at a table with a group of older, lawyer-types.

“The fact that you’re both about one drink away from sex in some janitor’s closet.”

Hallways by KeriArentikai | 2.5K | Explicit | Series

The five friends sat at a table in the student union building, laughing over their fast-food lunches.

"Okay," said Jackson, "which prof would you bang?"

"Hale," Erica, Isaac and Stiles all said together. No one was surprised at their answer.

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To The Mob? by RedRidingStiles | 10K | Mature

Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it.

Sideways and Slantways and Longways and Backways by hologramophone | 7.7K

“I called you a slave-driver!” Stiles cried hysterically. “I called you an ogre! I stole all the blue paperclips!” Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s company property!” he shouted, waving his arms madly in distress. Derek ran a hand over his face. “It’s not theft if the vice president of the company gives you permission.”

The Long Way Home by MyChemicalRachel | 19.8K | Explicit

Stiles didn’t plan to sleep with his best friend’s dad. It just kind of happened. And then it happened again. And again. And again…

The Convention by Stiles_Hale_38 | 21.6K | Explicit

Derek is at a convention, no, THE convention. The convention that Alphas meet at twice a year, every year, to pick their omega.

Derek is a very well known Alpha. He's strong, has good ancestors, and has gone through lots of omega training. He knows what he's doing and everyone else knows that as well.

Derek has came to the convention before, but he just never finds anyone. He's not even sure if he wants to.

This time though, this time is different.

Strike Softly (Away From The Body) by qhuinn (tekla) | 34.5K | Explicit

Derek is a bodyguard and Stiles his spoiled, resistant client.

I Hope By the Morning by anynowforyaya | 21.4K | Mature

From the bathroom came sounds of the guy brushing his teeth. Stiles rubbed the fifty dollar bill between his fingers and felt cheap. "Dude, I'm not taking your money."

The guy spat and turned the faucet on. "Take the money. You said you lived in Queens last night? Who the hell lives in Queens."

The fifty seemed gritty in his fingers, but he put it in the back pocket of his ridiculously tight jeans, anyway. That was, like, a five-hour shift at the coffee shop where he worked, Common Grounds, with tips. "And don't call me 'dude,'" the guy continued, turning off the faucet. "I'm not your college bro. It's Derek."

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs | 203.7K | Mature

“Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

[thestrangestinthisstrangeland]

I miss residing in this headspace…

Came for the Low

Wedding Chapter NSFW

The tiny bedroom above the restaurant was bathed in golden morning light that crept in through the window and lay in a warm haze over the two bodies moving slowly under the sheet.

Shutting his eyes, Zemo sighed deeply and slid his hand behind his head, cradling it with a smile. He was completely relaxed in spite of his racing heart.

With his free hand the Baron reached and smoothed his palm over the curve of his wife's head under the white linen and opened his mouth with a light gasp followed by a laugh. She was teasing him.

He'd been woken up by the feel of her warm tongue, soft and wet as she sucked him into her mouth and now she was moaning softly as he filled her, growing until he was fully erect and gently thrusting, sinking into the feel of her full lips stretched around the width of him.

Her small hand pressed against his thigh as she sucked, the other gripping the base, working in tandem with her mouth, increasing the rhythm the more tense he got.

It would not take him long, one look down and he caught a glimpse of her under the sheet, cheeks hollow as she bobbed her head, the soft brown skin of her hand in contrast to his own, her hair was all over the place and tickling his stomach. He wanted to grab her breast but didn't dare move, so instead he raised his chin, his head sinking into the pillow as he thought of the way they looked when she sat on him, bouncing in perfect unison, her dark nipples begging to be sucked and licked and...

Zemo's hand came down on her head, pushing until she gave a muffled yelp, but he held her firm. With a final sigh, the tension gave way and he went rigid holding his breath as the first warm rush shot down her throat—her moaning against his sensitive skin making the release into her mouth all the sweeter.

He could feel her swallowing each time he throbbed which only made him want to come all over again, but there was no hope in drawing it out. With a final powerful pulse, he finished and exhaled with a shaking smile.

Christine was wet and aching for attention as she drank him in. Zemo would of course return the favor with enthusiasm, but for now she'd enjoyed making him feel good.

Knowing how he responded to touch afterwards, she pulled away slowly, listening to the way he moaned again as her teeth and tongue very lightly graze the length of his still solid member until she let him fall free and sat up, running her fingers along the corners of her mouth and over her bottom lip.

She sat there looking quite pleased with herself, that smug little grin making him chuckle. The sheet lay over her hair like a veil reminding him of last night.

His bride...

Zemo reached and ran his hand down her arm, gently gathering her fingers into his own hand.

"Good morning husband" She said, her whisper soft voice tickling his ears.

He gazed at her with the sun shining around her head like a halo. "Good morning wife."

"Sleep well?" She asked rising up to sit on her heels.

Zemo gave a lazy laugh, exhausted from the orgasm and shook his head a little. "No, too much orujo"

"Oh you and Gael are wild!" She laughed too. "But so cute."

"Cute?"

"Yes. Like two puppies." She grinned.

He pretend to not like this but shrugged. "I am—cute—yes, I know." He winked.

Christine snickered shaking her head at him. "I thought I might loose you to him at one point. You two are quite a pair." She teased and he groaned, grabbing her arm to pull her down on top of him.

He took her face in hand, pulling her into a kiss. Her lips tasted like him. He moaned a little remembering the feel of that mouth on his cock which was threatening to rise again. She could work wonders on him without even trying...his bride, his wife. "How are you feeling?" He asked when she raised up. He tucked her hair behind her ear and pinched her chin between his thumb and index like he always did.

"Well enough to wake you." She said wiggling her brows at him. "No sickness yet today...oh! I hope I didn't just jinx it."

Zemo sighed and laid his arm over his eyes. "I should have followed your lead. No drinking." He said amused but angry with himself for overdoing it, but how could he not? The night had been completely perfect. Yes, he'd been married before but this was different. There had been an energy around them that filled the village with a sort of magic that does not happen everyday.

What they'd shared was special and no matter the outcome, he would carry the memory of marrying this woman with him, like a homing beacon, bringing him back to center when all else spun out of control...

~Wearing her flowing suit from the little shop in Malaga and a traditional Spanish veil gifted to her by Gael’s wife, Christine clutched the small bouquet of pink and burgundy flowers from the local florist as she walked down the steps, leaving the tiny apartment above to enter the restaurant’s courtyard, where Zemo stood waiting.

He watched as she came into view, white heels taking the steep incline slowly, her pants flowing light as air around her legs and a thin silk camisole under the draped jacket, both in that same bright ivory.

Christine was radiant, but the unexpected sight of her face framed in the scalloped lace stopped his heart. On flat ground, she looked up, her sparkling black eyes finding his and the man nearly forgot to breathe. Tears pooled, wavering in his eyes as she came to him—his second chance…

Gael and Luisa stood back, watching from the kitchen doorway with wide knowing smiles, and very quietly turned to go back inside leaving them to it.

“Hi.” Christine whispered sounding small and nervous as she waited to hear what he thought. She’d never really been the sort to imagine her wedding day, it had never occurred to her that she would have one, but now that it was here she hoped the Baron liked the way she looked as much as she truly did.

Zemo exhaled a shaking breath through his parted lips in disbelief that she was his.

“Hello,” He replied wanting to touch her but was too afraid that she would break she was such a delicate thing, but then he smiled remembering that this was the same woman capable of taking out assassins three times her size and his face relaxed as he pitied all the men on the receiving end of her wrath. “You’re beautiful.” He said simply, but she heard the many layers of love beneath the word and tucked her chin with a shy smile.

Zemo raised his elbow, offering her his arm which she took and smiled up at him. “You look incredible too.” She said nudging him.

He chuckled as he wiped at his eyes, escorting her to the carved gate.

She meant it. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and the resulting shadow was lovely. His parted hair was a beautiful mop of perfectly coifed dark brown that she would run her fingers through later tonight. The jacket and pants he wore —a few shades darker than his hair— were paired with a cream colored shirt left unbuttoned and no tie. She had a laugh to herself because of course he’d been prepared with a bespoke suit. Had he brought it hoping she would say yes or was Zemo just the sort of man who traveled with tailored clothing ready for any occasion at all times? Running her hand along the fine fabric over his shoulder, she grinned not caring. Either way he was glorious to look at.

Arm in arm they left the restaurant and started the walk through the square towards the famous edge of town, to a spot where people had come to watch the sunsets for thousands of years. By the time they arrived, a small group of well wishers and curious villagers had stopped to watch them stand before the tiny old officiant who had married hundreds before them.

The ceremony was said in Spanish with Helmut translating the vows when it was time for her to repeat the words. Her voice was light as she slipped the gold band—identical to her own— onto his finger as a symbol of the pure, and simple truth of their love. And when they shared that first kiss, it was to the applause of the wind coming down from the mountain to bless their union.

Neither of them would ever be able to recall the walk back, they were so lost in the joy of the day, but one thing Christine would always remember was him whispering sweetly in her ear, some of it in English some in Sokovian, and how he’d kissed her cheek and hand often between waving thanks to the well-wishers who passed them by.

Some of the older folk handed them gold coins as they neared the restaurant insisting they have thirteen until they were properly showered in affection and traditions they did not know but graciously accepted.

When the gates to Gael’s place opened, Christine stood frozen by the transformation in the courtyard. The man’s promise was not unfounded. The restaurant was beautiful. Lit by lanterns and string lights, the tables had been put together in one long line and was now covered in a feast of Paella, croquetas, Jamón, Espetos and all the things Christine could not remember the names of, but once they sat, she ate with enthusiasm as her husband laughed and joked with his childhood friends sharing and passing plates of the delicious food.

The whistles and shouts came any time they kissed —which was often— until one of the old men teased that they needed to sneak into the closet and get it out of their system, which drew laughter and calls of approval from the rowdy crowd. But as the small family band set up in the corner struck a note, Christine suggested a dance instead.

One beautiful song was played for them first which silenced the room.

Gael, with tears in his eyes pulled his own wife close as he watched the way Zemo held his bride with one arm, his other hand keeping Christine’s close to his heart as they swayed to the music that filled the air with a slow, haunting rhythm.

The sound of sniffling and the sight of adoring smiles was the backdrop to their first dance as a married couple until the last strum of the guitar echoed along the stone walls surrounding the full courtyard. Christine rose up and pressed her lips to his, her veil concealing them as they shared a moment that everyone who saw, would always remember. There was such strength in the way they held one another. You could see that these two people had been through much more than most, and were so thankful to have found a sense of peace, here in this forgotten place.

And then —because the night was a celebration— out came the anís, sangria, and Gael’s cousin from Barcelona with the Orujo.

Sober but high on the night, Christine kept up with the party, howling with laughter as Zemo and the other men made adorable fools of themselves while the women danced and sang and adopted her into the multiple families that had continued to trickle in, not wanting to miss the party.

At one point Zemo and a few of the others serenaded Christine with an enthusiastic version of a traditional love song that had her and the women cheering by the end and the Baron pulling his bride up and into his arms to kiss her. A kiss that did not end as the aching desire to consummate the marriage reached its peak. He sat her down taking Christine's hand to lead her away from the wild night to the raucous approval of the crowd.

“Goodnight!” She'd shouted from the door way that led to their little room, a glimpse of the white she wore fluttering up the steps as her laughter faded with their climb~

[fanficteen]

stale blood (4)

chris argent x reader

Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly where you’d expect to find a bog cat. There definitely wasn’t a bog, and it wasn’t even coastal, no major water sources… There was the lake an hour or so out of town, but the bodies were near the school. Your light flickered and you glanced up. 3am. Your tea was cold beside you and the rabbit hole had so far proved worthless, so you flipped your laptop closed and poured the stewed drink down the sink. A muffled click brought your attention and you frowned, letting your senses roam a little wider. Something was breathing – something big, rasping, and close. You fumbled for your phone. The breathing drew closer. You unsheathed your claws, hurrying towards your bedroom in search of the painted nettle plant you’d bought. This was as good a time to test that hypothesis as any. One hand out behind you held the front door shut as you passed it, heading for the stairs, your magic holding strong though you could feel something bashing at it. Then the door splintered under the weight of clawed hands, and a man stepped through. He was unnervingly tall, with eyes the colour of torchlit fog and black fur beginning to sprout up his arms. You growled, lowly, urgently tapping through your phone. He leapt forward and suddenly you were jumping out of reach of a full-blown paw, claw marks scraping down your chest. The man was gone, and you were faced with something entirely feline, and entirely feral. His hackles rose, fur bristling up so you couldn’t get a clear view of his true size. He hissed and you bolted before he could pounce, sprinting up the stairs.

“Hello?” Allison’s voice was quiet, confused, when she answered the phone. “Allison,” you greeted, trying to keep your voice steady as the cat’s quiet footsteps approached. “It’s (Y/N). Your, uh, your Dad isn’t home is he?” “Yeah, he is. Are you okay? You sound a little out of breath.” You heard her muffled voice call for Chris on the other end of the line. “Well, on one hand, I’m great, because we were right.” The door to your room slammed open, and a huge paw sent you hurtling across the room, crashing into your closet with a thud. “On the other hand, there is a giant cat in my house.” “There’s what?!” Allison exclaimed, and you heard shuffling in the background. You ducked under the cat’s next swipe, but he caught your arm and your phone tumbled from your hand. Growling, you sent it crashing back into the hallway with a wave of your hand. He yowled, but was back on his feet in a moment, hurtling towards you as you lurched towards the windowsill. You snatched up a handful of painted nettle and tossed it, desperately. The cat hissed, darting backwards, a few burns patterning into his fur where the leaves settled. You could hear Allison trying to talk to you, something about calling Scott, then the telltale beep of the line cutting off. Wary now, the cat circled you as you held the painted nettle plant between you and him, distinctly aware that the only way out was under the cat or out the window. He darted forward and you shot out a hand, throwing him back. But he landed on his feet and ran for you again, slamming into an unseen wall between you. You could feel the wound in your chest still oozing blood, though it should have healed by now, and your head was beginning to spin. Headlights flashed across your window as the Argents’ car hurtled down your quiet street. Your shield flickered with your focus, just long enough for a stray claw to slash across your face, and then you flipped, one clawed foot smashing into the cat’s jaw as you shattered through your bedroom window, plant still clutched to your chest. A few shards of glass embedded themselves in you, but you were more worried about the snarling of the cat behind you. There was a crash as he followed you from the window, then you were both blinded by torchlight. A ragged hiss, and it bounded away, disappearing into the woods behind your neighbour’s house. “(Y/N)?” Allison questioned, as you blinked against the light of her torch, staggering towards their car. You hummed what you hoped was an agreement, holding the plant out to her. She took it, raising an eyebrow. “It works,” you managed, after a beat. Chris rounded the other side of the house, gun still raised.

“Where’s Deaton?” Chris demanded, as Scott let you all into the vets. “He’s on his way.” “Why aren’t you healing?” Stiles frowned. “I think he laced his claws with wolfsbane,” you admitted, looking down at the already-festering cuts on your chest. “He what?!” “He knows what he’s dealing with. That means he didn’t come to Beacon Hills accidentally,” you realised, aloud, as Scott and Chris helped you up onto the operating table. “If he’s laced his claws with wolfsbane, how are we meant to fight him?” Scott fretted, as Chris already began setting to work cleaning around your wounds. “With that.” Allison was still holding the plant you had handed to her, as though she wasn’t sure what the hell else to do with it. “It smells like weed,” Stiles commented, sniffing it suspiciously. “Are you going to feed the killer cat weed? Get it stoned?” “It’s scaredy cat plant,” Deaton corrected, making Stiles jump as he entered. “Plectranthus caninus.” “I was looking into it,” you explained, “As possibly useful, but I wasn’t sure.” “So you went up against this thing with no idea how to hurt it except maybe a plant?” Stiles clarified. “I didn’t invite it over,” you snapped, muffling a shout as Deaton poured antiseptic into one of the scratches. “Can we talk about this after the wolfsbane is out of her system?” Chris prompted, raising an eyebrow at Stiles. Deaton held up a needle, and you groaned, but let him push you down onto the table anyway. “Don’t look at me like that. This will be out of your system in thirty minutes,” he scolded, lightly, jabbing the needle into your neck. “Just lie there and be glad you’re not a real dog.”

When you blinked awake again, the room wasn’t any quieter. Stiles was complaining loudly about supernatural creatures targeting them, while Deaton very patiently pointed out that the town was literally a supernatural beacon, Stiles, and your best friend is a once-in-several-lifetimes rarity, you can move away to college if you want. “He enjoys this too much,” Scott snickered, making Stiles glare at him. “What, it’s true! You’re the one who dragged me out to murder investigations before I was even a werewolf.” Stiles grumbled a response, but you were too busy with the sudden pounding of your head to bother absorbing it. “It’d be really nice if being bitten cured migraines.” The room fell silent, then Chris was at your shoulder, helping you as you struggled to sit up. “How are you feeling?” “I no longer feel like I’ve been attacked by a large cat,” you started, wincing against the lights as Deaton quickly dimmed them. “But I could do without the jackhammer in my head.” Deaton passed you some painkillers, and you smiled gratefully. “You didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?” Scott asked, peering at you worriedly. “No, this is distinctly a migraine. Give me a few hours of sleep and a handful of painkillers and I’ll be fine,” you assured him, finally settling on just closing your eyes. A shiver ran through you, and you instinctively leaned into the warmth at your side, before it shifted, and you remembered, as Chris’ arm wrapped around your shoulder, engulfing you in his warmth. You didn’t see the three teenagers exchange glances. “We should all get some rest,” Deaton spoke, eventually. “You three – four, I suppose – still have school on Monday. You’ll keep an eye on (Y/N)?” You shot your eyes open, feeling Chris nod above you. “Hold on, I don’t need babysitting!” you protested, though your voice was barely above a whisper. Stiles snickered and you glared at him. “Well you’re not going home alone,” Scott insisted, folding his arms. “Your house was trashed anyway,” Allison pointed out, making you grimace. “There goes my deposit.” “You almost died and you’re worried about your deposit?” Chris raised an eyebrow. “We aren’t all renowned arms-dealers, Argent,” Stiles put in, before you could answer. “In this economy, I’m with her.” You felt the heave of Chris’ sigh, but he didn’t respond.

You climbed out when Chris stopped the car, and barely even bothered protesting as he took your bag. You’d almost given up on arguing with him, he won every time, and your head was already pounding. “I’m going to bed. You know where to find me if you need anything.” Allison kissed her father goodnight and padded up the stairs. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, I’ll make up the spare bed in the morning,” Chris offered, leading the way upstairs as Allison disappeared into her room. “I’ll come by and check on you every couple of hours – I know you’re a shifter, but you still jumped out a window and took a solid hit of wolfsbane.” “I won’t kick you out of your bed, Chris. I can take the couch,” you answered, tiredly. He plopped your bag down at the foot of the bed and turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “You’re already housing me, you don’t need to give up your bed. Or your sleep, for that matter.” You reached for the bag. Chris blocked you. “Just take the bed.” “No!” “(Y/N) –“ “Either we share, or I’m sleeping on the couch.” Chris blinked. “It’s plenty big enough, and then I won’t have to talk you out of checking on me when you need to sleep.” “We’re not teenagers at a sleepover! You were seriously injured!” “Will you two make up your minds so we can all sleep?” Allison called across the hall. “Fine. We can share.” You smiled, triumphantly, as Chris ceded.