#Hes lucky he doesn’t live near me or I’d go round and slap him

[georgeclarkewifey]

my guy friend is being a wanker :(

guess that means I’m gonna do more writing so peeps waiting on the GC fic you’re in luck

[zodiakuroo]

Un(holy) Trinity

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader x Shigaraki

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, threesome, manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, breathplay, stepcest, breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege, elements of mindbreak and god complex (?) 

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: my first threesome and idk how to feel about it but here it is! If it’s bad I can blame it on the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth extracted and am currently in a world of pain :) also i’m on bedrest and incredibly bored so if anyone has requests or thirsts or just wants to chat... yeah

also if this banner is shit i’m sorry i rushed and made it on my phone cause i just rly wanted to to post

This is part 2 to my other fic Love Thy Brother which you can read here 

Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Has God indeed said, ‘You shall not eat of every tree of the garden’?” - Genesis 3:1

Twelve days.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity.

Twelve days since you lost your virginity to your step-brother, no less. 

The night that it happened, you lay awake in your bed dreading the aftermath of the horrific incident. How could you face him again? How could you face your family? How could you face God? 

You were too cowardly to face the rest of your household. The Todoroki family welcomed you into their home only for you betray them by sleeping with Touya. Ever since you were little, your mother would say she had a sort of sixth sense that meant God would always tell her when you’d been up to mischief. It sounds silly but there was no explanation for how she would always catch out in lie or know things that you never told her. You feared she would take one look at you and know the sin you committed. And so you chose to make yourself scarce, taking extra shifts at work and choosing to study at the campus library rather than at home. Your siblings seemed to notice how busy you suddenly were, often remarking how they missed you around the house. That just made you feel more ashamed. 

As for God, you felt like you needed to do whatever necessary to prove your faith. You wanted Him to know the extent of your shame and remorse. You were weak in spirit, making you an easy target for someone as devious as Touya. You prayed and begged for forgiveness until your knees hurt but no matter what you did, the guilt was inescapable. You realized it was because, irrespective of the regret and remorse you felt, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed what happened. You liked the way Dabi made you feel and you hated yourself for it. But no matter how much you liked it, something like that could never happen again. As penance, you banned yourself from bringing your hands anywhere near your groin. After all that temptation is what brought you to this point in the first place. But the thread of your self-control is thin and withered so at night when you’re certain everyone is asleep, you’re humping your pillow like an animal and biting down on your lip trying to keep from moaning his name. At least you weren’t touching right? 

Dabi, by some God-given miracle, made himself scarce as well. It wasn’t uncommon for the noirette to disappear for days at a time doing heaven knows what only to arrive back at home like nothing happened; so no one really questioned his absence. Perhaps he  felt the same way you did and was avoiding facing you and the other Todorokis.

Yeah right. 

Shame? Todoroki Touya doesn’t know the meaning of the word. 

In any case, you had become used to a Dabi-less house and so lulled into a false sense of safety, slowly but surely reverting back to normal. That’s why as you make your way downstairs, prepared to go to your church, the sound of gunfire and explosions from the living room doesn’t alarm you. Probably Natsuo or Shouto playing one of their video games, you thought. But when you get to the bottom of the stairs you’re met with unmistakable dark locks. Not just him. The back of another person’s head, one with pale blue, shoulder length hair. Before you can stop yourself, you let out a gasp. Neither of them react, seemingly too focused on their game. You don’t waste any time feeling relieved, choosing instead to make a silent escape. 

You could only dream of being so lucky. 

“Oi!” Your step-brother calls without turning around. He hasn’t seen you, you think. If you move quickly you can still get out of this. “I know you heard me, brat. Get over here before I drag you over here.” He still doesn’t bother to turn around but the sharpness in his tone lets you know that you’d be smart to listen. You take a second to steel your nerves and make your way over to the couch, trying your best to look as intimidating as possible. You scowl at both men but they are so engrossed in their video game, they don’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there. “Aren’t you gonna say hi? We have company.” 

We?

The company in question is Shigaraki Tomura. He’s been to the house before although he’s never even so much as glanced in your direction, too busy with his phone or playing games with Dabi. Despite your hard expression you can only manage a meek “Hello Shigaraki.” 

He responds by finally looking at you, with a sleazy grin, a pair of crimson eyes, surrounded by creases meet your own. “Sup.” 

Beer cans litter the coffee table, one of them being turned into a makeshift ashtray while both have smouldering cigarettes perched between their lips. “You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” 

“You’re not supposed to smoke in the house.” Dabi mocks you with a nasal voice. 

You simply roll your eyes, not interested in continuing this interaction any further.  “Whatever. I’m leaving now.” You state with as much firmness as you can muster. You spin on your heels but are kept in place by long, slender digits wrapped around your wrist. 

“Where are you off to anyways?” The game paused, both boys now looking at you. 

Out of habit, you answer truthfully. “Bible study.” 

Shigaraki and Dabi burst into raucous laughter. 

You should have lied. 

“Nah you’re gonna hang out with me and Shigaraki for a bit.” 

“Dabi, I have to leave.”

“You don’t have to do anything except what I tell you and I’m telling you to sit.” 

Before you can protest you’re being hauled on to the couch, squeezed between the two of them. 

“Nice necklace.” Tomura snorts, hand reaching out to grab at your crucifix but you swat it away. His gaze is unnerving. It makes you wonder if- no. He promised he wouldn’t. 

Just like that, their game is resumed, as if you were never there. A few rounds pass, no words exchanged between either of them, only curses muttered under their breath. “Dabi, can I please go. I’m bored.” 

Wrong choice of words. 

“You hear that Tomura? The princess is bored.” His fingers are still moving rapidly over his controller. 

“Really now? Come on then Todoroki, let’s show her a good time. I’ve seen how she likes to have fun.” 

His comment on your necklace suddenly makes sense, but you still can’t believe it. “You didn’t…” you whip your head back to look at Dabi. 

”Sorry doll, you made your Nii-san so proud, I just had to show you off.” Dabi smiles shamelessly, lighting himself another cigarette. 

“You’re fucking sick Touya.” Tomura says, however his tone is not one of disgust but rather of admiration. 

“You promised...” Your voice breaks. You’re humiliated beyond belief. 

Both of them laugh at you again, discarding their controllers. “Told you, it’s adorable how stupid she is.” Dabi remarks to his friend, as if you’re not sitting right next to them. 

You try to force your way off the couch but get pulled into Dabi’s lap, one of his arms hooking around both of yours, securing them behind your back. You squirm in his arms but he stills you with a hard slap on your inner thigh. “Be good okay? Don’t embarrass me.” He nuzzles into your neck. 

Shigaraki flips up your dress exposing your white lace panties. He runs his thumb up and down your clothed slit, he fabric slowly becoming even more transparent. One severe jerk to the top of your dress and the straps are torn clean off, revealing the matching bra. “Yo, Touya. I thought she was a good girl.”

Dabi peers over your shoulder to get look. “Who’s all this for babe? You screwing the preacher or something? Or were you hoping I’d do something like this?” He tugs down your bra until your breasts are spilling over the top of it.

“Dabi…” Your choke on your plea when he sinks his teeth into your neck. He bites down so hard you’re positive he’s left a mark.

“Who?” 

“T-Touya-nii.” You whimper. 

“Better.” 

Your destroyed dress is discarded somewhere across the room and you find yourself on your hands and knees with Shigaraki kneeling on the couch in front of you and Dabi behind you. 

“Go easy on her alright Tomura. It’s her first time sucking cock.” He chuckles. 

Your eyes go wide. “Wait...” you mewl but neither pay you any mind.

“And you.” Dabi yanks a fistful of your hair. “No teeth. No puke. Or I’ll let my boy ream your little ass as punishment.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Shigaraki mutters, pulling his semi out of his sweatpants, rubbing his tip against your lips. His is not as scary as your step-brother’s but him staring down at you like this, makes him seem every bit as intimidating. 

Pre-cum dribbles from the swollen tip. You’re not entirely sure you want that in your mouth but you’re also not sure if you have a choice so you open up hesitantly. 

Dabi’s right. It is your first time doing something like this. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do but as it turns out you don’t have to do much, not with the way Shigaraki starts thrusting his quickly hardening member into your mouth.

“Move your tongue slut.” The man in front of you grunts. You do your best despite the heavy intrusion to obey his command, moving from side to side, swirling around the head when he pulls out of your mouth. He looks down at you with cruel vermillion eyes, panting as he strokes himself in front of you, spreading your saliva across his shaft before sliding deep into your mouth again.

Behind you, Dabi spreads apart your cheeks, squeezing the flesh in his calloused hands. “Remember what I said. Be good and I’ll give you a reward.” He pulls your panties to the side and lets out a whistle at the sight of your dripping slit. “She’s enjoying it. Make her take it deeper.”

You can’t possibly fathom how much deeper he can go when his head is already nudging at your tonsils. You try to swallow the saliva building up in your mouth, making your cheeks hollow out around Shigaraki’s shaft. Seems like that was the right thing to do as his hand flies to the back of your head. “Shit. Shit. So good.”

Dabi’s breath wafts over your pussy. He spreads your lips apart and you feel his hot tongue lick up the juices leaking from your hole. You squeal around Tomura’s dick. You want to pull off but his spindly fingers hold your head in place.

“Told you angel. Good little sisters get rewards.” With that he takes your clit between his lips and suckles on it gently while one of his fingers circles your entrance. Knuckle by knuckle he slides into you, making you keen. You arch your back trying to shift your hips backwards against his hand, silently urging him to find that special spot he showed you last time. He establishes a loose rhythm. Hot wet muscle and cold metal of his piercing circles the sensitive bundle of nerves, before applying suction while his fingers work you open.

The sensation is overwhelming, a form of heavenly torture and your thighs quiver barely able to hold you up while you use your last bit of mental strength to focus on suppressing your gags. That mental strength all but evaporates when the digits inside you graze that rough patch embedded in your walls. It’s so pleasurable your reflex is to run from his fingers. Luckily for Shigaraki, that means you move forward, taking him further into your mouth.

“This where you want me? This your spot, angel?” Dabi taunts you. Shigaraki holds you in place while two of your step-brother’s fingers drill your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. Garbled moans and cries leave your mouth and reverberate around Tomura’s cock, proving to be too much for him ultimately. 

“Shit Stop!” Don’t wanna come yet.” He pulls out your mouth so that a string of your drool drips down to your breasts.

“God! Touya-nii!” You sputter out.

“Still with the God shit?” He uses your hair to force you to look at him, neck twisted at an awkward, uncomfortable angle. “God ever make you feel this good?” His fingers thrust into you harder. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Ngghh-N-no –oh! Oh!” is your incoherent answer.

Dabi forces you back down, shoving you face first into the cushions. “See? Fuck him. Give up on god. Give up on everyone except your big brother cause no one else can make you feel this good.”

You’re so pathetic. The way you’re rocking yourself in unison with the motions of his hands. The way your tongue hangs out of your mouth, impeding any sort of intelligible verbal response. The way you’re mindlessly nodding along to whatever filth is coming out of Dabi’s mouth.

“C’mon Touya. Turn her around. Wanna try out that sweet pussy you’ve been bragging about.” You’re reminded that you aren’t alone. No, your brother’s best friend is right there to witness exactly how pathetic you are.

“Yeah in a minute. I’m still having my fun.” Dabi answers, face pressed against your mons before working you with his mouth once again.  

“Man! Come on!” Tomura whines.

 “I said in a minute.  Not my fault you can’t last.”

It’s amazing how they can bicker like this right now, as if you aren’t on your hands and knees for them, gummy walls still pulsing around his fingers. However, it’s not long before Dabi’s focus is back on you taking you to the brink of orgasm. He slows his fingers, keeping you balanced on that razor thin edge. “Should I make you cum angel?” His voice is dripping with fake concern. “Dunno… what’s in it for me?”

“Anything! Touya-nii please!”

“Anything? You gonna obey me? Do whatever I say like a good little angel? You gonna worship me?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious or if he’s mocking you.

Probably the latter. And you deserve it too.

Your faith was the thing you deemed more important than anything and anyone else but Dabi, all too easily, convinced you to disregard that. Made you lose all sense and give into lust by showing you mindblowing pleasure, only magnified by your awareness of how deeply sinful this all was. That’s the extent of the power he has over you. The story of Adam and Eve is one you know forwards and backwards and yet you were so easily tempted forbidden fruit and left completely corrupted.  Yeah, he’s definitely mocking you.

“Any- fuck- anything” You’re wiggling your ass, goading Dabi into finishing you off

“Cum in my mouth. Angel, give it to me” That’s the final straw. You explode around his fingers. Despite your walls, clamping around him, he manages to piston into you, hitting that squishy spot with astounding accuracy. His unyielding stimulation makes it feel as though the high won’t end. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Eventually, it does end though, his fingers drag out against the pull of your swollen pussy. He licks you clean making sure he gets every last drop of your cum, both inside and out, on his tongue. The ball of his piercing catches onto your rim making you yelp. He soothes the sting with gentle laps of his tongue.

“Tastes so sweet angel. So sweet knowing I’m the only one to ever fuck this pretty pussy.” He snickers before adding “So far.”

“Yeah, can I fuck her now?” Tomura was turned on before but seeing the way you fell apart at the hands of your brother? His minimal patience has run out. All he can think of now is being inside you.

 “You heard him babe. Turn around.” He spanks your ass. You try to turn around but thanks to your shaky legs you nearly fall off the couch. Dabi catches you before that happens and he dutifully sets you up on all fours, held up by quivering limbs. You hear heavy breathing from behind you as Shigaraki taps his head against your puffy clit while you twitch in place.

“She wants this so bad. Had no idea your Christian little sister was such a whore.” Shigaraki mutters. He holds you still as he buries himself in you, breathing becoming more erratic with every inch until his hip bones are digging into your soft flesh. He’s so deep. You feel so full. You squeeze shut your eyelids, savouring the stretch. 

Calloused fingers press into your jaw, making your eyes shoot open. “Pretty angel, did you forget about me?” Dabi looms over you, making a show of spitting in his palm and using it to stroke himself. He slips his thumb into your mouth, pad pressing down on the plush pillow of your tongue. “Gonna stuff you nice ‘n full angel.” All you can do is blink up at him with teary eyes, pupils blown wide with desire. 

Shigaraki begins thrusting into you, hips moving at a brutal pace. Dabi isn’t far behind him, replacing his thumb with his cock and you don’t waste time waiting for him to tell you what to do. You close your lips around his shaft, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Unlike his friend, Dabi starts off slow. His piercings drag across your tongue and you taste metal and the salt of his pre-cum. It takes some time for you to get used to taking him in your mouth, the jewellery an added obstacle. 

You feel so full. 

Shigaraki is bottoming out with every thrust, it’s so lewd the way it makes you squelch around him. Dabi’s shaft is rubbing your throat raw and still, you make an effort to take him deeper. He keeps one hand on the back of your head while he fucks you mouth.

He looks so ethereal, so euphoric, letting out little moans and whispered expletives. The sounds he makes are divine, so heavily contrasted by everything you know about him. It leaves you star struck. He recognizes the adoration in your eyes and responds in kind with a cocky smirk. He remembers how you looked at him when you first met. Disdain and judgment. Now you look at him like he’s your only salvation. 

It’s sad actually. How you’re so desperate for someone to tell you how to live. And what a sweet, adoring little follower you are. Wasted on religion if you ask him. So soft and pliant, perfect for your big brother to mould and corrupt into his personal fuckangel. 

“Angel, Nii-san’s gonna fill you up. And you’re gonna take it yeah?”

Your whole life you aspired to this holy standard of perfection in the hopes of escaping eternal damnation. But you’re beyond absolution now.

“All of it down your throat.”

It’s okay though.

If heaven doesn’t feel like this, you’re not sure it’s worth all the effort to get there. 

He holds your necklace behind you like a leash, twisting it around his fingers. Between the way he’s basically strangling you and the way your swallowing muscles contract around his cock means that you’re not getting much air into your lungs. Your head is spinning, from being both oxygen deprived and cock drunk.

“Your God doesn’t want you anymore.” The clasp snaps and he dangles the charm in front of your face. The mould of Christ nailed to the cross taunts you.  What was once a symbol of divine love and God’s boundless forgiveness and sacrifice is just a reminder of how far you’ve fallen into depravity, creaming around Shigaraki’s cock as he ruins your cunt while your Nii-san claims your throat “You’re filthy.” Touya sneers at you as he holds himself in your throat, watching you cry and choke around him. “Dirty fuckin angel.” He grunts as he floods your mouth with the taste of his cum. It’s not exactly pleasant but you try to swallow it all down. There’s just so much. That means he’s pleased with you right? You want him to be pleased. Good girls get rewards he said 

“It’s okay.” He muses as he pulls out of your mouth. “You have me. I’m better than God and I Iove you when you’re nasty like this.” He empathizes his point by dragging his wet, softening cock across your face. “Nii-sans perfect little angel.”

It’s so pitiful how the small praise makes your heart bloom and makes your hole flutter.

You’re coughing up Touya’s cum while your body shakes with Shigaraki’s thrusts.

“What about me hm? I’m fucking you. What? You don’t like it?” Tomura’s going harder now, determined to get his fair share of your attention.

“Shig-Shigaraki – shit. Slow down!”

You’re ignored by both of them once again. If anything, Shigaraki starts fucking you harder

.”Yo’ dustpot. You better pull out. That hole still belongs to me.”

The warning falls on deaf ears, Tomura is too far gone. “So warm, she’s squeezin’ me. Fuck. Fuck.’’ No thoughts, just your tight cunt.

“Gonna do whatever I tell you?” Dabi’s talking to you now, cerulean eyes boring into yours.

You nod still staring at him with absolute devotion.

“Touya-nii’s will be done? Huh? Has a nice ring to it.”

When you don’t respond he grabs you by your cheeks forming an open mouthed pout. “Say it.”

“Touya-nii’shhh will be done.” The words come out distorted but he’s satisfied

“Oh yeah? Then be good angel slut and come on his cock for me.”  

You’re pushed over the edge, coming for the second time. Your walls clamp down around him as you sob out both their names in the form of incoherent babbling. It hits you as hard as the first one. You’re so caught up in your high you barely register the vice grip on your hips, the frantic humping against your ass. “Tight. Fuckin tight! Gotta breed! Breed this fucking hole.”

His hot, sticky cum floods your walls with, your throbbing cunt milking him for everything he’s got. He ruts against you a couple more times before removing himself completely.

You hear the familiar click of a camera. He’s sorry (not really) but the sight of your fucked out hole leaking globs of your cream and his cum was too hot for Shigaraki to not add to his spankbank. 

“Thanks for that little sis.” Dabi is resting on the couch, head thrown back smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah thanks sweetness.”  Both men, tuck themselves back into their pants

Everything feels so surreal. You cautiously move you hand between your thighs. Feeling your sore abused cunt in an attempt to grasp the reality of what happened.

Wait a minute. 

It’s too much, that too sticky to be just your arousal down there. The more you squeeze, contracting your pelvic floor, the more it seems to seep out of you. 

“You… You came inside.” You murmur as your eyes well up with tears. Whatever daze you were in seems to be broken by this revelation. Instead it’s replaced by fear of what the consequences of this might be. 

Dabi smacks his friend upside the head. “You fuckin’ dumbass. I told you not to.”

Judging by his grin, Shigaraki doesn’t register the insult. He’s too busy basking in the afterglow. “Aw, don’t cry babe. You were gripping me so tight, I thought you wanted it. ‘S’okay, your Nii-san will get you a plan B”

“Fuck no. That’s your jizz inside her.” He scowls, eyes focused on the cum that’s leaking out of your spent pussy.

“C’mon Dabi don’t be like that. I’m broke right now.” Shigaraki pleads.

Touya huffs and rolls his eyes.  “You can get yourself a morning after pill right? Tomura will pay you back.”

“Yeah babe. I promise.” He gives you a dopey smile.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s lying. Yeah, you know better now. You just nod as you pull up your panties, cringing at the sticky, wet sensation against your cunt.

 “Me and Tomura are heading out. Make sure you clean all this up before anyone gets home.”

“B-but Touya-nii-“ you snivel.

“No buts. Clean up or you won’t be sitting comfy for a week. Are we clear?”

“Yes Touya-nii.” You reply defeated.

“And do it properly. Fuyumi has 3 brothers, she knows what a cumstain looks like and I don’t wanna have to do any explaining to her.”

You only nod, trying (and failing) to blink away tears.

Dabi rewards you with a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Best little sister in the world.” And he leaves you with that.

[missymurphy1985]

The Call

This was another request: So y/n is younger than Cill, she overs here's a call he's on with his management basically trying to convince him to leave her, so she goes upstairs to pack up because well she's not staying around when she's not wanted & Cillian finds her doing this and he's like no no no let me show me how much I want you around 😉

Warnings - talk of separation, smut

Turning the key in the lock you carefully opened the door as quietly as possible. Knowing Cillian, he was taking a nap in the lounge and you didn't want to disturb him. 12 hour days filming six days a week, he'd come home yesterday completely exhausted.

Instead of his light snoring, you were surprised to hear him talking on Skype to his agent in the study across the hallway. You smiled, before making your way to the door to let him know you were home, bottle of wine in hand when you froze.

"So, I'd get more scripts if I wasn't with y/n?" You heard Cillian ask his agent. You didn't move, you could barely breathe.

"Cillian, this is having a severe impact on your credibility! Producers aren't taking you seriously anymore, they're seeing you as a sugar daddy! Y/n is barely out of university, and you're pushing 50 here!" His agent was almost laughing.. you were sure you even heard Cillian chuckle at one point.

"Right... So it looks like we've got this all figured out then doesn't it?"

"Absolutely!! It's so simple Cill, everyone loves a single Dad!"

You'd heard enough. Tears burning your eyes, you tiptoed up the stairs, still with the wine in your hand, and made your way to your bedroom. Once you were sure you were out of earshot you allowed a sob to leave you as you leaned against the closed door, before grabbing an overnight bag from the closet. Taking a deep breath, and opening the wine to take a quick slug from it, you started to pack. All those times he'd told you he loved you... You completed him... Lies! He'd exchange you for Hollywood in a heartbeat!!! Well no... This wasn't going down that way - there's no way he's breaking YOUR heart when you can break HIS first....

Taking another swig from the bottle you took another deep breath and continued packing, not realising how loud your footsteps had become. The bedroom door suddenly swung open, and Cillian stood in the doorway, completely confused.

"Er... Y/n? Everything okay up here? I didn't hear you come home?"

"I didn't want to disturb your call.. you sounded busy." You voice was as deadpan as you could make it. You couldn't even look at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" You stopped, tears escaping your eyes too quickly to stop them.

"I heard you... I heard the call Cillian..."

"What call?" He approached you from behind and tried to put his arms around you but you pulled away. Turning to face him, you brought a hand up to slap the side of his face. "The fuck y/n?!?" You'd never slapped him before.. part of you felt an instant regret but the anger was burning inside you.

"Don't fucking play dumb with me, I heard you!! You'd get more scripts if you didn't have the 25year old homewrecker on your arm! You'd be more credibility as a single Dad!" Cillians eyes widened.. no... No no no..

"How much of that call did you hear, exactly?"

"Enough!!"

"Wrong!! You didn't hear fucking HALF of it!! You didn't hear me end the call, did you?" His voice raised now. "When I told him never to call me again. Never to even claim to represent me. That he was fired?? Did you hear that??" You stood frozen again, looking into his eyes. Your tears were drying up, but his looked close to spilling. "To have someone try and tell me how to live my life... Tell me who I can and can't spend my life with... he did the same thing with Natalie.. he wants me to be an eternal bachelor... that my career would take off if I wasn't seeing someone 20 years younger..." His voiced cracked at the thought of losing you.

"It worked with Natalie. Yes, she was the mother of my kids, but there was never a real connection with her.. I allowed it to happen without realising he was responsible for it... But you? I can't live without you y/n... The age difference has never bothered me.." he walked towards you again, pulling the bottle of wine out your hand and placing it on the chest of drawers in the corner. Picking the handles up on the overnight bag on your bed and throwing it to the floor. Needed it out of the way for what he was about to do.

"How do I know you won't change your mind one day? How do I know you mean it? You could trade me in for a younger model one day!"

"I'll show you how much I want you, and will always want you - close your eyes." His voice took a darker tone now, which always drove you wild. You closed you eyes as you felt his lips slowly start to kiss down your neck.. he turned you back round again so your back was pressing against his chest, as his fingers began to unbutton your blouse. "Keep them closed, baby..." He saw your eyelids flutter in the full length mirror in front of you both. He pulled your blouse off and let it fall to the floor, swiftly followed by your bra. Your jeans and panties soon came down your legs too, and he brought himself back up minus his T shirt.. his now bare chest hair tickling your back making you giggle.

His hands explored your upper whole body... Pressing your breasts, kneading them gently and loving hearing the moans of complete passion emitting from your beautiful lips... Before sinking a hand down to rest between your thighs, gently tapping them to allow him access. Happily granting it, he sunk a finger down to collect as much moisture as he could before circling your clit expertly, knowing exactly how to make you squirm underneath him. Holding you firmly round the waist with one hand, as the other mercilessly assaulted the small bundle of nerves between your legs, you squeezed your eyes closer together and allowed your head to fall back onto his shoulder. You couldn't move from the waist down, he had such a tight grip on you.

"Fuck... Cill... Keep going.. don't stop... Oh god..." He smiled, kissing into your bare neck as your moans became louder, he could feel your core burning now... You felt your orgasm screaming from inside as Cillian increased the pace.

"I've got you... Open those eyes baby.. watch yourself cum on my fingers, yeah?" You opened them to see yourself in the mirror, Cillians hand buried between your thighs and you couldn't help but feel the pure eroticism from it - fuck his hand looked good there.... Within seconds you could feel that orgasm approaching, no stopping it, it completely drowned you as your tried to buck your hips, held in place by Cillians strong arms. He swiftly inserted two fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench around them as you came hard over his hand. Twitching those fingers upwards slightly to find that sweet spot, making you cry out again.

"No more.... I wanna taste you now..." You span round to face him and kissed him, tongues clashing together as you fiddled with the buttons on his jeans - his erection clear as day through the fabric. They dropped to the floor and you followed, still in front of the mirror as you took him down your throat, teeth catching along the way gently. His hands coming to rest in your hair.

"Ah... Holy fuck y/n..." You groaned into his cock as your hands rolled his balls between your fingers, emitting more groans from above you. "Stop baby... Need to fuck you now y/n... Let me in yeah..." He lifted you up to stand again, before backing you onto the bed. Opening your legs he lined himself up and pushed inside, condoms long gone since you'd moved in together. If it happened, it happened.

Taking it slow, he moved his hips against yours, trying to find that sweet spot inside again. He heard you gasp, there it was. Your fingernails dug into his back, and his thrusts became almost maniacal - he was pounding you with reckless abandon now, making your screams echo off the walls. Thank fuck your neighbours weren't home... He wasn't holding back now - sitting up on his knees, he lifted your hips for deeper access, thumb rubbing your swollen clit to bring you your second orgasm. You clenched your cunt round his cock hard, squeezing him, watching his eyes squint and mouth gasp as you did..

"Need to cum y/n... Cum with me.... Let me feel it all over me...."

"I'm coming... I am... Baby I'm gonna..." You had no voice now as your second orgasm exploded through you, and Cillians followed with a loud groan as he collapsed on top of you, kisses raining back down your neck, gentler this time. Lifting his head to rest it over yours, he looked into your eyes softly.

"Don't ever feel like you're not enough for me y/n... Promise me?" You nodded in agreement.

"Don't trade me in for a younger model when I turn 40, and you've got a deal Mr Murphy." You tried to hold back a laugh but couldn't help it, both of you now chuckling.

"Don't get Botox or any of that crazy weird shit, and you've got a deal."

"Don't be coming near me with ANYTHING from Ann Summers, and you've got a deal." He pouted. Clearly busted looking at the costumes online.

Both of you fell silent. A comfortable silence that you both sank into, before rolling under the covers to nap together.

"You're stuck with me now, you know that? I'm agentless, I might never work again!" He laughed again, and so did you.

"That's okay, save a fortune on childcare." He smiled. That was true. After spending so much time away from his boys as young kids, he was looking forward to spending as much time as possible with a new baby, if they were lucky enough to have one together. Despite his age, he felt he had plenty of time left for another baby.

"I hope it happens, you'll be an amazing mother y/n. I can't wait." A loving hand over your, for now empty, stomach, you felt butterflies. Embracing him as he lay behind you, you both fell into a deep sleep, surrounded by dreams of your own little family.

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @cloudofdisney @margoo0 @being-worthy

[quickspinner]

Marinette meeting Luka right after she “saved” Master Fu in Origins because he saw the whole thing and came to check on her. They end up talking a bit more and get along really well. Cue them having feelings for each other from the start.

I think this is the last one for today, but thank you so much for all the love and support, and I’ll be keeping the other ideas I received for sometime in the (hopefully near) future!

Marinette darted out the door and only just registered the oncoming car before dashing into the crosswalk. She stopped barely in time, and then jumped as a hand landed on her arm, steadying her. 

“Careful,” said a soft voice, and she looked up into the smiling face of a boy several inches taller than herself. His eyes were blue and his hair dyed blue at the tips, and though his chin and nose were sharp, there was a roundness to his cheeks that suggested he was around her own age. Marinette relaxed a little, and smiled back at him.

“Thanks,” she said, looking back towards the intersection. “I guess I was a bit—oh no!” Marinette darted into the intersection, grabbing the arm of the elderly man who was in the middle of crossing just in time to pull him out of the path of an oncoming car and drag him back to the curb. She tripped, but the same blue-haired boy caught her, though he couldn’t save the box of macarons from crashing to the ground. 

“Are you two all right?” the boy asked, helping Marinette back onto her feet and looking at the old man in concern. Marinette nodded shakily, her fingers digging into the stranger’s arms as she tried to slow her heart. 

“Thank you, young lady,” said the old man, seeming unbothered by his brush with danger. “Oh, what a disaster,” he sighed, looking at the macarons scattered on the ground.

“It looks like some of them are okay,” said the blue-haired boy, gently freeing himself from Marinette’s grip to pick up the box. He handed it back to Marinette and smiled. He had kind eyes, she thought, and she smiled back as she took the box from him, feeling a little more recovered from the scare. 

“It’s okay, I’m no stranger to disaster,” Marinette shrugged, checking the box. “Besides, there are still a few left.” She offered the old man the box, smiling at the way his face lit up as he selected an undamaged macaron, and then she shyly held the box up to the blue-haired boy. That earned her another smile as he plucked a macaroon delicately from the box with long fingers.

“Thank you,” he said in his quiet, smooth voice. It was a nice voice, she thought, calm and soothing. “That was really brave,” he added, just as Marinette was shutting the box, and she almost dropped it again.”You’re a quick thinker.” 

“O-oh I—” Marinette gasped, her head whipping around as she heard the bell ring. “Oh no, I’m gonna be late, um, nicetomeetyoubothbye!”

Luka smiled as he watched her dash across the street and around the steps of the school across the street—the same one he’d just dropped Juleka off at. He wondered if they knew each other. She had nice energy. Juleka could use a friend with that kind of warmth. 

Luka felt foolish for standing there like an idiot as the girl dashed out into traffic, but his attention had been focused on her, and he hadn’t noticed the old man’s danger. Stupid. She’d just been so pretty, and he’d lost track of his surroundings for a moment. 

Like he was about to lose track of time, he reminded himself, trying to come back down to earth before he stood there staring into space and missed his first class. Luka started to turn away, and then looked down as something under his foot crunched. He stared for a moment at the broken cookies littering the sidewalk, and then at the one in his hand. The logo on it was familiar, and he looked back to the bakery behind him. 

She must have just bought those fresh, and so many of them got ruined. 

Luka didn’t question the impulse, he just turned and went into the bakery shop. He paused and cleared his throat a little awkwardly. The couple embracing in the middle of the bakery seemed to be having an emotional moment, and he suddenly felt like an intruder. He glanced back but the sign clearly said open, so…

“Oh, forgive us, dear,” said the petite lady, moving away from the big man. “It’s our daughter’s first day of school today and we’re just a little emotional. What can we help you with? Although…” she frowned. “Shouldn’t you be at school too?”

“I’m on my way,” Luka replied without concern. “I just—someone gave me this and I was hoping I could maybe get a box, if that’s okay?” He held up the green macaron, and the shopkeeper blinked at him in surprise.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, of course, no problem. Isn’t that just like her, dear?” she chuckled and turned away. “Give me just one moment, I’ll get a box packed up for you. You’re sure you won’t be late?” 

He would be, but he didn’t care and neither would his mother, so Luka shrugged. “I walk fast,” he said, which wasn’t a lie, really. 

The big man gave him a friendly smile and retreated to the back while the nice lady packed up Luka’s order. He paid for it and left, the single cookie still in his hand. Once he was outside, Luka stuck the cookie between his teeth to free his hands so he could get the box into his school bag. Then he took off at a brisk walk, biting through the cookie as he reached up to grab it. It was really good, he noted with mild surprise, and he smiled to himself as he ate the rest of it. 

***

It was the cap on a day full of weird, bizarre moments, as Marinette watched Adrien walk away from beneath the folds of his umbrella. She felt suddenly nervous and jittery, and...was she blushing? That was weird. As weird as her stammer a moment ago. What kind of— 

A quiet cough made her jump, and she whirled, eyes going wide as she recognized the  the blue-haired boy from this morning. She hadn’t seen him because he was leaning against the stone wall of the doorway, wedged into the small space where he was sheltered from the rain. 

“Hi,” he smiled, pushing off the wall. “Sorry, I would have let you know I was there sooner, but—” he waved vaguely in the direction Adrien had gone. “You were busy.” 

“Oh, it’s, um, that’s, uh—” What was wrong with her? “Why are you here?” she blurted, and then slapped a hand over her face. “I mean—”

“It’s okay,” he said, in that same soothing voice she remembered from the morning, and some of the tension buzzing in her veins seemed to ease. “I know it’s kind of weird to show up here, it just...well, I wanted to give you this. I was hoping I’d be able to bring it by at lunch but—” He made a vague gesture that somehow encompassed the weirdness of the day, and then started to dig in his bag. 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Marinette sighed, and then she giggled, shaking her head. “What a day, right?” 

“Seriously,” he grinned, and then he stepped closer, holding something out for her. “Anyway, here. To make up for this morning, since so many of them got ruined.”

Marinette stared at the familiar box in his hand, and then looked up at his face. “I—don’t understand.” 

“These are for you,” he repeated patiently. “For the ones that got ruined this morning.” 

Marinette reached out mechanically and took the box. Bracing Adrien’s umbrella under one arm, she opened it to look at the rows of macarons, still perfect despite being in this boy’s bag for who knew how long. “You...you got these for me? And you came all this way to—but—” 

He shrugged. “My sister goes here. It’s not really out of my way. That’s why I was there this morning. She doesn’t like me to come all the way to the school with her. Too cool to be seen with her big brother, so I’m not allowed to cross the street.” He grinned, and there was no resentment in it, only quiet amusement. 

“Still…” Marinette said wonderingly. “You don’t even know my name.” 

He chuckled. “Well, that can be fixed. I’m Luka.” He tilted his head slightly, blue eyes shining with amusement between the shaggy strands of hair. 

She blushed. “Marinette.” 

“Marinette. Now I know.” He smiled, and Marinette giggled nervously. “I’ll admit I wasn’t counting on the rain, though,” he added, looking up at the sky with a sheepish small. He winced as there was another crash of thunder. “Or the lightning. I actually thought I’d missed you, and I was just hanging out hoping this would let up. I’m glad I was lucky enough to run into you.”

“Lucky enough to get caught in the rain,” Marinette snorted. 

Luka smiled. “It’s just water. I’m definitely not afraid of water.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice that made Marinette feel like she was missing something, but there was another crash of thunder and he flinched slightly. 

“Not afraid of water, but not too crazy about thunder?” Marinette guessed, but Luka grinned and shook his head.

“Thunder is just sound. Definitely not afraid of that either.” He hunched his shoulders slightly and admitted. “Lightning, I’m not too excited about.” 

“Oh.” Marinette chewed her lip for a moment, and then decided. “Well, I live really close by. Would you...like to come hang out at my place until it passes?”

He blinked. “You don’t have to do that. It’s just a summer storm. It’ll pass quickly.” 

“You didn’t have to do this, either,” Marinette smiled, making a slight gesture with the box she held. His eyes flicked down to it, and then back to her face, and Marinette suddenly had to swallow, a nervous fluttering starting up in her stomach—but nervous in a warm, pleasant way, not the jittery, mixed-up feeling she’d had a little while ago. 

Luka smiled slowly. “Then, if it’s okay with you, sure. Lead the way.” 

Marinette held up Adrien’s borrowed umbrella, and beckoned Luka with the hand that still held the cookie box. “Here, you take these back for a minute,” she suggested, and when he did, she looped her arm through his and tugged him against her side so that they were both mostly protected by Adrien’s umbrella. Now if I can just keep from tripping on my own feet, she thought, as they started down the steps. 

“Which way?” asked Luka, as they approached the bottom, and Marinette giggled. 

“Funny story about that, actually,” she said, turning him towards the intersection where they had met, facing the bakery.

[iam93percentstardust]

hi! saw you were taking thunderiron prompts sooo, one where tony just obsesses over wearing thor's sweaters and uh. nothing else underneath 👀

This ended up diverging a little from your ask but hopefully, you’ll still like it :)

As always, everything I write is available on ao3

~

The first time Thor sees it, he’s so surprised, he nearly walks into a wall.

Looking back on it, he doesn’t know why he’s so shocked. After all, Pepper had spent much of her relationship with Tony calling him a goblin for constantly stealing her clothes. When Natasha had pointed out that she didn’t have to buy oversized clothes that were still too big on Tony, Pepper had just laughed and said, “You weren’t here when it began so you wouldn’t know. Tony will still take my clothes even when they don’t fit him. They just make lovely crop tops on him.”

And it’s not like he hadn’t known that Tony loves being comfortable. If he’s not in public or down in the workshop, Tony will lounge around in the most comfortable, softest clothes known to man. In fact, the very day Thor had asked him out, he’d found Tony curled up in the library with a book and a fleece blanket in an oversized sweatshirt. By all accounts, he should have been expecting this.

So he doesn’t know why he’s so shocked to walk into the kitchen that morning to find Tony wearing one of Thor’s sweaters. He tends to be a little more fashionable than Tony’s usual comfort outfits but he still looks delightfully cozy as he burrows into Thor’s sweater and hunches over a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh,” Thor says and promptly misses the entrance into the kitchen.

“Thor!” Tony yelps.

He gets his hand up in time to stop himself from crashing face-first into the wall. “Ah,” he mutters sheepishly. “I’d forgotten there’s a wall there.”

Tony eyes him suspiciously but he’s never very awake in the morning and he goes back to his cup of coffee a moment later. Natasha, on the other hand, is hiding a laugh behind her hand. He smiles benignly at her and walks into the kitchen. He opens the fridge to see what they have and decides that the package of Aurelian bacon that he’d brought back from Asgard the last time he visited will do nicely, along with those Cle eggs from Xandar.

He turns on the stove and then finally turns back to Tony, drinking in the sight of him in Thor’s clothes. It’s as good a claim as any Thor could have come up with himself and he adores it.

“Good morning, beloved,” he rumbles, coming around the counter to drop a kiss on the top of Tony’s head. “How did you sleep last night?”

Tony smiles up at him. “You wore me out.”

“Gross,” Clint complains as he walks into the kitchen. “No one needs to hear about that.”

“No one needs to hear your phone sex with Laura either,” Tony snarks back, “and yet you keep doing it in the vents near the living room. Haven’t you figured out yet that sound carries or do you need to go back to elementary school?”

Clint maturely thumbs his nose at Tony and then says, “My relationship with Laura is a fantastic and magical thing and you should consider yourself lucky that you get to hear some of it.”

“You have a room,” Tony points out. “A fantastic and soundproofed room.”

“Yeah and you and Thor have a room too but that doesn’t stop you from leaving the door open.” He starts to make an exaggerated moaning sound but Thor stops him with a sharp glare.

“I would thank you not to speak to my chosen consort in such a manner.”

“Yeah, Clint, don’t talk to me like that.”

“As for you, beloved,” Thor says, rounding on Tony, who eeps. “Stop antagonizing him.” He drops another kiss onto Tony’s cheek and then goes back to the stove to start laying out bacon on the frying pan.

“So it’s official then?” Natasha pipes up after a moment. “You asked him to be your consort?”

“Yes,” Thor says. He gives Tony a bright grin and Tony winks back at him. “I asked him last night.”

“Oh is that what all the noise was?” Clint asks. Without saying a word, Natasha reaches over and slaps the back of his head. “Ow!”

“Don’t make fun,” she chides. “It’s a beautiful thing.”

“Aye,” Thor agrees. He chances another quick glance at Tony. He doesn’t know if Tony is wearing anything under his sweater—the thought that he might be entirely nude is enough to set his blood racing—but he knows that that sweater is hiding at least a dozen love bites on Tony’s thighs and hips (and one on his right asscheek) and all of it is borne from the passion that had overcome him last night when Tony had agreed to be his consort. “I have been waiting a long time for my One.”

Clint mouths the word to himself, right as Thor is flipping the first batch of bacon onto a plate. He passes it to Tony, who thanks him quietly before returning to the email from Pepper on his phone. The next batch goes to Natasha and then to Clint when she shakes her head and points at her omelet instead. Finally, he dishes up the entire rest of the bacon and two eggs for himself and then he heads over to Tony, physically picking him up so he can settle Tony on his lap instead.

“Possessive,” Tony laughs.

“Yes,” Thor agrees shamelessly. “Wouldn’t you be if I were wearing your clothes?”

Tony thinks about it, then shakes his head. “No. They’re mine, you can’t have them.”

“But you can take mine?”

“Yep!”

He shakes his head fondly and waits for Natasha and Clint to get distracted over a discussion of some brand of knives (a silly argument as everyone knows Asgardian weapons are far superior) before he murmurs in Tony’s ear, “Sváss, are you even wearing anything under my sweater?”

Tony gives him a very smug look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He muffles a strangled sound in Tony’s shoulder.

“Morning, all!” Steve chirps, strolling in. “Is Thor doing okay?”

“I think Tony broke his brain,” Natasha says dryly, looking at the two of them with that sardonic expression of hers.

Steve looks at them as well, eventually nodding after he considers them for a long moment. “Not sure I want to know what’s going on there.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

“Please,” Tony says archly, turning away from Thor. “You wish you could have what’s going on here.”

Thor takes advantage of his distraction to slide his hand up Tony’s thigh and underneath his sweater. Tony stills but doesn’t do anything to stop him, which is how he’s able to slide his hand all the way up to the barely-there scrap of silk and lace Tony is wearing over his hips.

He groans and kisses the side of Tony’s neck. “Are you wearing this to tempt me?” he murmurs.

“Mmhmm.”

“I don’t think I want to know what this is,” Clint says with a scowl.

“You won’t have to,” Thor tells him, standing with Tony in his arms. “As it turns out, I am apparently not as done claiming my consort as I thought I was.”

And to the sound of their teammates’ groans and complaints, he carries Tony back out of the room and straight for the elevator, intent on taking them back to his floor, where he can explore the sight of Tony in his lingerie and Thor’s clothes to his heart’s content.

[velvetsehun]

Born to Die| OSH | 06

pairing: Oh Sehun x Reader genre: Mafia!Sehun rating: 18+ warnings: violence, gun use, mature language, smut (in future chapters), slow burn. words: 13.4k summary: a collusions of worlds is supposed to kill, but what if it can do something else? A/N: chapter 06, who would of thought huh? i certainly didn’t think anyone would care about this fic to begin with but here we are... 6 chapters in and 14 left to go! I hope you all enjoy, remember feedback is appreciated so drop into my askbox, lets chat ;)

TW// Warning this part contains some material that might be sensitive to readers as it depicts scenes of blood and violence, readers discretion is advised.

Masterlist | next

The sound of wet shoes slapping against the pavement and the overwhelming humidity laying itself thick on his lungs was often something that Chanyeol liked to cherish about summer evening – to feel the season in the air and know that you were set for a long break away from the burdens of life, but what Chanyeol didn’t cherish was the pelting of rain whipping against his face in those summer evening as he ran for his life. 

The thickness in the air made it almost impossible to breathe at the rate he was going, the feeling of his blood carting around his veins at impossible speeding making almost impossible to keep running; but he had to keep going. 

“Come on…” He panted to himself, shivering at the feeling of his clothes clinging to him in such an awful way that he wanted to shed the damn second skin immediately. 

The screeching of his shoes against the pavement as he rounded the corner reminded him of just the predicament he was in; homeless, alone, and wondering when whoever was looking for him would eventually catch up. It was a lot for a 20-year-old, a lot to think about and a lot to deal with, but Chanyeol made his own decision to leave home and he had to live with it. 

They say the best things in life are often not planned, and to Chanyeol at one point that might have been true – but he knew deep down as he waded through the rain for his life, that every moment he spent fucking up got him here. Leaving your 20s was supposed to signify leaving behind adolescences and entering adulthood, but for him, it meant leaving behind his mistakes in the teens and carrying that burdens into his adult life. Glancing behind him briefly, he winced softly at the rain pelting against his flushed cheeks, the skin raw with the force of the water, but through the blurriness of the weather he could still spot the distorted shaped following him; clothed in black and hungry for vengeance. 

“More like hungry for money,” Chanyeol corrected his inner monologue softly, taking a moment to shove his hair out his face as he kept running. 

The streets were barren of people, the occasional passing car showing the thickness of the rain that coated the ground – the lights glinted off it like stars passing, Chanyeol liked the city rain but he liked living more. 

“Shit.” The young man swore, hearing the boom of a gun before a bullet whizzed past him lodging in the pavement in front of him, his tattered shoes skidding to a stop in freight. 

Eyes glancing at the cracked gravel where the smoking bullet laid now – its world took a complete turn as his running stopped, unsure if the chase was worth it anymore. Glancing around the street Chanyeol took in what he thought could be his final moment, the rundown restaurants and homes witness to his life. He could hear the footsteps rushing closer and his eyes shut softly as his neck went limp, shaggy hair falling into his eyes as the strands clumped together in a wet mess that dripped onto his face. 

“I’m sorry...” He thought to himself, sighing softly at the sound of footsteps nearing closer, he was bracing himself for the impact when his eyes burst open.

The feeling of a hand grabbing his sleeve and yanking him sideways sent him tumbling behind however done it, the familiar sound of a gun clocking filling the small ally – he winced softly at the impact his body to the ground but his eyes still flicked up to see who done it; a rather well dressed guy who looked around the same age as himself had his back to Chanyeol, now looking at the guy who was chasing him with his gun pointed. 

“Give me the kid,” The guy asked gruffly, nodding behind the other man, “And I won’t hurt you either kid.” But the man holding the gun merely giggled, much to Chanyeol’s shock.

“I can’t do that…” The giggling man teased, and honestly, Chanyeol wasn’t sure if he’d lost his mind. 

“And why is that,” Chanyeol’s assailant demanded, a look passing over his face.

“Because I don’t want to.” The giggling man stopped giggling, but he still had an amusing edge to his voice. 

“Fuck this,” The assailant tried to push past the other man, and Chanyeol felt himself scuttle back slightly but that grip of fear didn’t last long as the smaller man pushed the assailant back with a hard shove. 

“Now now,” The younger man toyed, “Let’s not get violent...” He sang softly like a mad man. 

“Step aside, kid.” The assailant, who truthfully Chanyeol didn’t know the name of demanded again, raising his own gun at the younger man, “Or I’ll shoot you instead.”

“No, you won’t,” The man said melodically again, and Chanyeol caught a glance of his face as he flicked the barrel of the gun that was pointing at him away like it was a fly much to Chanyeol’s horror. 

“And why is that.” The other man demanded, whoever was defending Chanyeol was clearly getting on his last nerves, but the younger man merely giggled again. 

“Do you see that car over there,” The young man pointed to something that was out of Chanyeol’s eye line, and he watched as the two men looked in the same direction. 

“Not saying I wouldn’t shoot you,” The young guy laughed softly, “But if you even lay a hand on me, there are going to be two very angry men ready to beat the shit out of you in that very car.” He giggled again. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The other man demanded, trying to distance himself away from the other guy, but the other man guy merely leaned in closer with a smirk whispering to him. 

“Who the fuck is this kid…” Chanyeol thought to himself, glancing between the two of them. Chanyeol kept watching in some twisted horror as the other man backed off with a blanched expression. 

The man backed away slowly before bolting out of the ally, the younger guys shoulders slumping in a sigh before he turned around fully to look at Chanyeol, a small smile gracing his mouth as he held out his hand to help him up. 

“You’re welcome,” He grinned slightly, still holding his hand out to Chanyeol who looked between the hand and his face in slight horror.

“Who…” Chanyeol stuttered slightly, but he was soon cut off as the other guy laughed. 

“I should probably introduce myself, I’m Byun Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun wasn’t sure if he’d ever have kids, but if the man had to name anything as his child then he’d say that Electric Kiss was as close as it was ever gonna get – albeit it was a booze-filled, drug flourishing child, but his none the less. It was something Sehun had given him as a side project to keep the man busy during the slower times that they faced every so often, not every day was shooting and plotting, it was a small sense of normality in Baekhyun’s otherwise weird schedule, it was something he could call his own. With tensions running high between the members of Exodus at the moment, he had expected tonight to be somewhere he could “let loose” for a while but his glass ceiling was shattered as he watched with annoyed eyes as his loving boss made his way into the establishment – security scattering around him like he was the president of some foreign country, not just a gang leader entering a club.

“Smile now,” Kyungsoo scoffed softly from his place in front of Baekhyun’s desk while the latter looked out the tinted glass to the empty dance floor where his boss was currently making his way through, “You’re normally happy go lucky,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes at that.

“Happy go lucky,” He repeated annoyed, “When did you become such a nice person,” He scoffed back.

“When Junmyeon decided to promote me,” Kyungsoo teased with a small smirk gracing his lips.

“Promote,” Baekhyun turned around with an eye roll, “Junmyeon also told Sehun to stay inside the compound but the giant idiot is here, so let us not call Jun’s word as bible now.”

“Did you think for one minute he’d listen to him?” Kyungsoo asked honestly, the scowl on Baekhyun’s deepening slightly as he plonked himself down at his desk with a grunt, “Sehun is in charge after all…” Kyungsoo ended with a small drawl.

“I’d hope he might have,” For the first time, Baekhyun looked put out, “Even I listen to Junmyeon.” The man exclaimed softly but Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, sometimes I listen to him,” Baekhyun corrected, “But I don’t currently have a bounty on my head, do I?” His eyes were blazing with concern for his younger boss.

“Idiot,” Baekhyun scoffed, picking up a random ornament on his desk to play with, “He’s going to get himself shot,” Kyungsoo hummed.

“Aren’t you like his bodyguard or something,” Kyungsoo asked, but there was a teasing edge to it – an enjoyment that he was undermining his job.

“He wishes,” Baekhyun huffed, “Glorified babysitter for a while but not his bodyguard, I’m his brother.” A small fondness glinting in his eyes.

“Brother…” Kyungsoo thought about it, “Isn’t that just a fancy term that says you have to take a bullet for him?” Baekhyun rolled his eyes to his company with an unamused look.

“I’d take a bullet for him, yes,” Baekhyun began with a pointed look, “But typically bosses aren’t supposed to be out in the field, and certainly not out in the field when some mystery person is out to get them,”

“Even I know he doesn’t like the compound,” Kyungsoo reminded Baekhyun, who huffed.

“None of us like it,” Baekhyun drawled, “Fuck, I’ve been there nearly every day of my life since I was a kid, I hate the place as much as the next person”

“Explains a lot,” Kyungsoo laughed softly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Baekhyun furrowed his eyebrows.

“You grew up around Sehun didn’t you?” Kyungsoo asked honestly, he was never one to ask too many questions – especially questions about the past but he’d been in the gang so long that it didn’t matter anymore.

“Well, yes…” Baekhyun nodded, “My father was Sehun’s fathers second in command…” He looked confused about where this was going.

“Have you ever thought that he gets it from you?” Kyungsoo smiled slightly, drawing the commonalities between the pair – recklessness being a big factor.

“He wishes,” Baekhyun laughed softly, “That’s all his own, even I was still doing as I was told back then.”

“Hard to believe” Kyungsoo tsk’ed softly.

“I was a good kid,” Baekhyun mumbled softly looking off into the distance, “Shame really, this is how I turned out.”

Kyungsoo frowned slightly, even if he didn’t always toy around with the man like he often wanted him too, Kyungsoo could see that Baekhyun’s actions always head somewhat good intentions – it was family first, and he’d seen first-hand the lengths he’d gone to for someone before.

“You’re a good man,” Kyungsoo assured him, but it didn’t sit right with Baekhyun.  

“A bad man that does a good deed isn’t a good man,” Baekhyun sighed softly, “He’s still rotten at the end of the day, it just shows he can think of something else besides himself for once.”

“Do you really believe that?” Kyungsoo asked with a raised brow.

“I don’t exactly have a clean record,” Baekhyun tutted softly, “Sometimes if I look hard enough, I think my hands might be permanently stained with someone else’s demise.” He frowned softly staring at his hands.

“I know a few people that might beg to differ,” Kyungsoo said almost softly to the older man, much like how he’d seen his companion speak to their boss sometimes, “He’s not here right now, but I know Chanyeol thinks the world of you,” Baekhyun chuckled softly at that.

“Right place, right time,” Baekhyun said honestly, “Not that I’m not glad, but that’s not redemption.” He kicked his legs up on the desk.

“Who said you need redemption?” Kyungsoo asked honestly, “You’re not exactly the average person to begin with,”

“The second heir to the Byun estate,” Baekhyun mimicked his father’s voice with a sarcastic edge to it, “Not like that shit matters now,” Kyungsoo looked slightly interested in that.

“How so?” Kyungsoo was always a questioner and Baekhyun chuckled at that.

“The second son gets nothing in our world,” Baekhyun laughed slightly but there was no humour behind it, “I’ll serve Exodus till my untimely death with no land, barely any family and no life” He sounded a bit put off by that.

“No marriage on the cards?” Kyungsoo asked, he knew it was common for the sons to get married off to affluent daughters.

“I’m sure If my father cared enough, I’d be married by now,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes, “But I don’t think he remembers I exist at this current moment,”

“Does anyone in this damn gang have a nice home life?” Kyungsoo rolled his eyes slightly and Baekhyun chuckled at that.

“Ask Yixing, I’m sure he’ll regale you with tales of his adoring family,” A new voice entered the conversation and the two men jumped too caught up in talking to each other. “Or maybe Jongdae, that man is always smiling for a reason.”

“Oh, so the prodigal son has decided to make his grand appearance,” Baekhyun raised his eyebrow looking at Sehun who had decided to make himself known to the two men, “Weren’t you told to stay home?” Baekhyun tutted.

“I’m here for business,” Sehun rolled his eyes while leaning against the door to Baekhyun’s office, “And I can handle myself,” He reminded them.

“Business in my club?” Baekhyun raised a brow, “Do I get to know about it?” Sehun smirked softly at that.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sehun teased, a lot more jovial in demeanour than when the two men had last seen their boss.

“I don’t fancy having my ass handed to me by Jun because I let you do something stupid,” Baekhyun’s eyebrow twitched slightly as the younger man merely hummed in a soft laugh.

“Just tell me where the bartender is, Baekhyun.”

Despite being a 25-year-old man, Sehun still found himself bossed around from time to time from his older brothers – the irony of it laying within the fact that he was at the end of the day still their boss, and by obligation, they were supposed to do what he says but regardless, he says nicely and listened to Junmyeon rant to him again.

“Please Sehun,” Junmyeon had a sternness in his eyes that Sehun knew he got from his father, “For the time being, just say out of the light for a while – we can handle the heavy lifting.” Sehun hummed at that, say at his desk gazing at the man who was flanked with their tallest member.

“And what if I don’t want to?” He argued slightly, his hands resting on his stomach as he lounged in his chair, “Last time I left you all to do your work it didn’t exactly go to plan” He tweaked his brow at them.  

“Sehun,” Junmyeon warned, Chanyeol looking almost uncomfortable beside him.

“Junmyeon,” Sehun pointedly said back, “I am not a child.”

“Then stop acting like one,” Junmyeon argued, Chanyeol flinching slightly at the heat in his boss’ eyes.

Sehun stared darkly at his second in command for a second before collecting himself, he detested being labelled a child, but he wasn’t about to cause a scene in the compound – he was better than that and doing so would only solidify Junmyeon’s statements.

“Fine,” Sehun grumbled after a beat of silence, “I’ll stay here if you wish me too,” He rolled his eyes slightly, Junmyeon deflated slightly at that – curious to how he gave in so quickly.

“You will…?” Jun quizzed looking at him sceptically.

“Yes.” Sehun affirmed, “I’ll stay out the light for a while if you’re so worried.” He pushed his tongue into his cheek in thought, clearly still not happy.

“Thank you,” Jun nodded glancing back at Chanyeol for a second, “I’m taking Minseok to scope out some of our casinos, you and Chanyeol try to get more out of our guest.” Junmyeon sighed slightly.

It wasn’t uncommon for the second in commands to overstep their places, Sehun’s had seen his fathers’ SIC do it all the time – but that still didn’t mean it didn’t grind his gears a bit. At times it felt like he was just the face for the gang, an affluent name that took “control” while the others schemed behind the curtains.

“Who am I in this game instead of the king?” Sehun thought wistfully while Junmyeon ran Chanyeol, who for the last few hours had been choosing to remain silent in the house, past everything he had to do.

The last few day’s had been tolling on everyone so it seemed, most of his men being sent off every direction in the city to just and find out how someone could infiltrate their shipments, while he stayed behind and handled the numerous phone calls from his head underlings about why his men were sniffing around their territory – Sehun hated the phone calls more than anything, but he had to but on a tone and brave it while he explained that his men were doing intake since he’d felt like things were “getting sloppy” within his ranks. No one really dared question him too much, he was their leader at the end of the day and if someone blinked wrong at him, they’d be taken out, but that still didn’t mean he enjoyed listening to them grumble.

“You get that, Sehun?” Junmyeon interrupted his thoughts while the younger man merely hummed and looked at him.

“Yes,” He grated out, waving his hand at his counterpart to just leave already, “Loud and clear, stay here, do this and most importantly keep out of trouble.” He rolled his eyes.

“Sehun…” Junmyeon warned slightly, but Sehun paid it no mind.

“I’m sure Chanyeol will make a fantastic babysitter, Jun” Sehun huffed, fixing his suit slightly in a fidget, “Go before I change my mind and elect to completely flout your warnings.”

Junmyeon merely gazed at the two with a pointed look before nodding slightly, making haste to get out the room with his phone already glued on his hand – the fluttering of his conversation bouncing around the empty hallway as he departed.

There was an air of silence before Sehun stood up from his desk, making sure his suit jacket was buttoned slightly and his phone was pocketed before he spoke.

“Tell someone to get my car ready, Chanyeol,” Sehun asked while he rounded his desk, much to the other man’s shock.

“But didn’t Junmyeon just say…” Chanyeol began but was promptly cut off by Sehun.

“Don’t go out in the light, yes I’m aware,” Sehun smirked softly before gesturing to his window – it was well past daylight and the moon had taken her role in the sky for the night, “But that doesn’t look like going out in the light to me.” He remarked as Chanyeol’s face dropped slightly.

“I won’t be able to stop you, will I?” Chanyeol asked honestly, crossing his arms over his chest

“Nope.” Sehun popped his lips slightly, “I’ve got business to attend to.” Chanyeol’s brow quirked.

“Business?” Chanyeol asked, “What are you up to now?”

“I’ve got a bartender to talk to,” A look passed over Chanyeol’s face at that.

“Why?” Yeol was getting defensive again, but Sehun merely chuckled.

“You’ll find out eventually,” Sehun hummed touching the older man’s shoulder as he walked past him, “Do me a favour, integrate our guest with Jongdae, if he’s still not talking after a while kill him” A dark look past over Sehun’s face.

“We have no use for him if he won’t talk,” Sehun said to his companion, “Understood?”

“Understood,” Chanyeol mumbled back, nodding slightly.

Sehun merely nodded back at him while patting Chanyeol’s shoulder as he finally walked past him to the door of his office, there was a brief pause at Sehun’s door while he thought for a second.

“I say this from a place of care, Chanyeol,” Sehun spoke honestly while looking over his shoulder, “Whatever’s in your head about this girl, let it go.”

“There’s nothing in my head,” Chanyeol grumbled back, “I just think your plan is stupid, what do you gain from this?” But Sehun merely chuckled.

“It’s not often I see your heart bleed,” Sehun hummed, “I’m trying to keep my men in check, you included”

“I am in check,” Chanyeol frowned.

“Really? You could have fooled me,” Sehun tutted softly, “I’ve watched you beat a man within an inch of his life and then some, but you’re choosing now to grow morals about who we involve?” Chanyeol’s eyes darkened slightly at the jab.

“I just think…” Chanyeol started but Sehun cut him off quickly.

“No Yeol,” Sehun began with a slight frown, “You’re not thinking, not at the moment – I don’t know what that girl triggered in you, but you need to sort it out, otherwise you’re going to get yourself killed or maybe even her.”

“I won’t.” Chanyeol tried to reason with his boss.

“Civilian relationships in any form don’t work.” Sehun reminded him, “Ask some of your brothers, your enemies don’t care who they are to you, as long as they’re something”

“Sehun...” Chanyeol started but again he was cut off.

“I did you a favour by making sure your family was protected the first time around, I can’t extend my kindness any further.”

“Sehun…”

It felt like a hit to your soul when you met eyes with the man situated at the bar, your physical body stagnant in the present while your soul decided to bolt out of there, leaving your flesh with a cold tingle to it. He looked a bit more casual than the last time you’d seen him, an all-black suit tailored perfectly to his lissom body; sans the tie and shirt unbuttoned three from the top, he looked like a walking piece of opulence, especially with his hair messily pushed back – a far cry from the hardened exterior of a man you’d seen before.

There was a cocktail of not only fear but anger swirling in your vein’s as you keep your gaze locked with the very man that caused it, his eyes dark and strong as the whiskey he was asking you for and settling straight onto your own, they were reading you; that much you could tell, the subtle twitch of them told you he was reading your face.

“I see you’re still alive,” He spoke, his tone deep and smooth as you remembered.

“No thanks to you,” You gritted slightly, hands wringing the cloth you were carrying like it was his neck, “What the fuck was that,” You leaned closer to him, his eyes dancing with a verge resemblance of shock at your tone before he straightened himself out.

“Be thankful you’re alive,” He drawled to you, leaning in himself as a challenge to your currently strong demeanour, “Some people aren’t always that lucky.” You could feel his breath hitting your cheeks, he smelled vaguely of mint and something stronger.

“I don’t think I should be thankful for almost suffocating in a plastic bag,” You hissed, eyes flickering to a group of people that were seated in a booth not too far from the bar.

“And what are you going to do about it,” He challenged you, his brow raised, his shoulders were squared but he wasn’t trying to threaten you, but you felt yourself stutter anyway.

“I…” You sentence dropped off, what were you going to do about it? It’s not like you could hit him like Chanyeol, the security guard in the corner was glaring at you enough to know that if you raised your hand, you’d lose it, not if Sehun himself didn’t get you first.

“Can I have my drink now?” His brow plucked up again, “Or will I have to tell Baekhyun to fire you on your first day?” You shook your head at him, spinning around to grab the fucking bottle of booze he wanted and a glass.

You weren’t light as you slammed the crystal onto the wooden bar counter, Sehun’s eyes following you as you poured it straight into the glass not bothering to glance at him. Sehun was intrigued, to say the least, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as you placed the bottle back onto the counter with a huff.

“That’ll be –.” You were cut off by Sehun.

“Free,” He smirked slightly, “Owner perks”

“Of course, he was the owner” You bit down on your tongue as your inner self cursed him out.

“Of course, Sir.” You gravelled out, “Will that be all?” Your eye twitched slightly while he hummed, taking a sip of his drink, glancing between the amber liquid and you.

“Leave the bottle,” He requested with a look, your head nodding before you sighed – spotting some patrons making their way to the bar.

You didn’t spare him a second glance, as you went back to work; the feeling of his eyes following you sent a small chill down your spine but you tried to shake it off, a small smile gracing your lips as you tended to other paying customers. It was strange, having him right there when he’d told of so many threats to your life every time you saw him, it was even stranger than you were now working in a club that was affiliated to him – a small calling that Chanyeol could have warned you echoing on your head, but why exactly were you here? Sehun made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you so why hire you at a club he owned.

There was a thick emotion coating your throat as you tried to focus on serving customers, all while the man that shook you to your core sat on the other end of the bar – checking his watch every so often that it had you on edge; Baekhyun had yet to see you again after you stole his drink for him, leaving you here with a bunch of rich twenty-somethings and a syndicate boss. You were leaning against the back of the bar, the music thumping slightly in your brain as you watched the intoxicated customers dance and laugh with their friends – something you haven’t done in a while, you noted to yourself.

The night had only really just begun and you were already ready to go home, your body still emotionally tired beyond belief and your wits at their end at the idiocy that was this bar; you were hired here for a reason and that was fraying your nerves, you didn’t believe for one second that you were hired here out of kindness, the men you had seen behind this all didn’t look like someone that extended their kindness beyond their gang.

“Let’s just say, Junmyeon likes to keep all his cards together,” Chanyeol’s lips pursed together in a look you couldn’t place, it was vague, but you nodded anyway.

Chanyeol.

You remembered his face as he handed you the job description letter, he looked put off giving you it, but you couldn’t argue and seemingly neither could he.

“Think any harder and you’re going to hurt yourself,” The voice from the corner drawled lazily again, glass raised to his mouth and an amused look in his eye while your own eyes flicked to him.

“Shut up,” You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter over your chest in a glare, “Don’t you have lives to be ruining?” Sehun hummed at that.

“Is that what you think I do?” His eyes danced with mirth.

“Monsters prey in the dark, but here you are” You rolled your eyes, “Which means that you’re up to something.” Sehun’s eyes narrowed slightly at your wording, his lips pursing together slightly.

“I’m here on business if you must know.” Sehun scoffed, “Not that it matters to you, bartender.” His jaw was set slightly, and you flinched at the fact you’d put him in a mood.

“Business,” You sneered slightly, “Gonna shoot up this place too?” Sehun rolled his eyes.

“I think you’d know if I was, darling,” He jeered back at you, “I might not be as nice to tell you to get under the bar next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time?” You bantered back to him, disregarding the fact your heart was hammering in your chest at the dark look in his eyes.

Setting your jaw, you walked back over to him with a pointed look; the cloth that was in your hand was tossed on the counter as you leaned.

“Tell me,” You asked honestly, “Why am I here?” His eyes met your own, no emotion being given away behind them.

“Because you work here,” He deadpanned like it was the simplest thing in the world, and that made your jaw tick.

“Chanyeol told me that Junmyeon likes to keep all his cards together,” You gritted slightly, “What does that mean.” Sehun mouth ticked slightly in a sneer.

“Why don’t you ask your buddy?” His eyebrows were raised.

“I’m asking you.” You swallowed thickly, “Now answer me.”

“And what makes you think that you’re in a position to tell me what to do?” Sehun tested you.

“Sehun,” You said his actual name to him for the first time, a tone of stress coating the words like honey, “Please.” Your eyes softened slightly.

Sehun looked conflicted for a second, his eyes skittering around your face trying to look for anything that told him you had other intentions; there was a beat of silence between the two of you before he sighed annoyed. You watched him toss his drink back before he reached into his inner suit pocket to retrieve his phone, a look passing his face as he did; it was just as quickly pocketed as it was taken out while his eyes flicked to you, an unresolved emotion waving in them.

“Stick around after the bar closes,” He grumbled out, standing up from his stool, “I’ll answer your questions then.”

“But…” You began, your mouth slightly open in protest when he cut you off.

“No buts.” He snapped lightly, “I’ll answer your questions then or not at all.” His eyes were angry, but you could tell it wasn’t at you.

“Fine…” You deflated slightly, shoulder slumping slightly as you watched him turn on his heel.

Curiously, you looked at his back as he retreated from the bar without a second glance at you, looking as he passed his security guard to walk over to one of the private rooms on the VIP area that you had been told was used for business meetings, he stopped slightly before the door, look off to the side and our brows furrowed slightly at the person that walked up to him.

“It’s the girl from the house…” You mumbled to yourself slightly, watching as she strutted up to the man; her head very much held high.

She looked gorgeous, made up in a dress that seemed to almost glitter in the light; she practically glowed under the strobe lights of the VIP room, she was a beautiful woman – and when you had seen her last you could tell she suited Sehun a lot, the two of them had an aura about them that matched. You didn’t mean to stop and stare at them, but as the girl entered the room before Sehun you caught the latter turning around to give you a pointed look; a sheen of embarrassment coating your cheeks at his stare.

“So this was his business huh…”

It wasn’t long before Irene was making her way up to the VIP room, a soft smile gracing her face at the sight of you working like you belonged at Electric Kiss; she had been sceptical at first since there was already a tightknit of people that worked here, not just anyone was hired, but when Baekhyun approached her and told her, she knew she’d try to be as welcoming as possible. But the devil in her ear currently was stopping her from greeting you like how was wanted too. 

“Is Sehun anywhere around?” She rolled her eyes as she heard Baekhyun through her earpiece, something she used in case of emergency and she needed to get security quickly.

“We have security cameras, Baek,” She grumbled slightly, making sure no one in VIP heard her talking to herself, “Check those, I’m busy.” She smiled at a customer who walked past her. 

“But you’re my informant on the ground,” Baekhyun teased softly, treating it like he did when he was probably on missions. 

“Baekhyun,” She warned with a look, even though he couldn’t see her. 

“I would be he’s not down the stairs,” Irene could hear the roll of his eyes, “There’s a reason he hangs around up there.”

“It was your choice not to put camera’s up here,” She sniped slightly, “But for your information, his guard is still up here.” She confirmed to him, watching the man she only knew as Johnny walking around. 

“And the He in question?” Baekhyun pressed a bit, much to her annoyance. 

“I don’t know, probably one of the private rooms.” She tutted, gazing around the room looking for the infamous boss – Irene had only met him a few times through Baekhyun, but he’d never really said much to her. “Have one of your men check it.”

“He’s been a foul mood the last few days, lovely,” Baekhyun huffed, “I don’t fancy facing any wrath.” 

“Chicken.” She teased with a smirk.

“Am not.” He snapped, but there was a playful edge to it. 

Irene hummed softly, her eyes flickering around the room at everyone that filled the VIP section; she could spot the security guards a mile away, they stuck out like a sore thumb but none of the socialites that gathered up here bothered, if anything they ate it up when anyone from Exodus visited, they were Royalty here after all. Irene’s eyes did widen slightly as she caught sight of the very man, she was looking for storming out of a private room; a glance at a familiar woman sitting at the table before the door slammed shut. Sehun looked mad, and she could see him storming down the staircase that leads to Baekhyun’s office. 

“Uh Baekhyun,” Irene chirped quickly, “Problem.”

“What?” Baekhyun quickly responded, “What is it.”

“Found Sehun, and he’s very mad.” She shuffled quickly of the way of one of the security guards who was rushing past her. “And currently on his way to you.”

She could hear the slam of a door from the audio of the earpiece, Baekhyun yelping slightly in freight, herself jumping at the sound of it pathetically. She tried to listen in for a second but before she could hear anything the call cut – one last word passing from Baekhyun before it dropped.

“Oh shit.”

Truthfully, your first at Electric Kiss had been an eventful one, and eventful couldn’t even fully sum it up. Working at the bar of the VIP section truly showed you a life that’d you’d never know, rich kids were willing to throw their money at anyone that served them drinks and you heard all kinds of gossip through the night that you honestly had no business in knowing; Joohyun was right when she said you get tipped well up here, and it wasn’t just in case. You had seen your manager briefly before you took a small break earlier, she looked a bit frazzled but she kept her composure as she questioned you on how your first night was going here, she’d been nothing but kind to you since you started, so you felt a sense of connection when you did manage to talk to her again.

Aside from that, you never saw anyone again for the remainder of the shift – Sehun never graced your presence again and Baekhyun was MIA, it was truly just you and the customers up here, and it was strangely nice. However, what Sehun had said to you was still echoing in your mind as you slowly shuffled to get your things from the breakroom.

“Stick around after the bar closes,” He grumbled out, standing up from his stool, “I’ll answer your questions then.”

It was 3:30am now and the bar was closing early for the night since it was the middle of the week; Irene had been gracious enough to let you go straight home since you’d turned up early for training while herself, Joy, and a girl you’d not met yet cashed out for the night. They gave you soft smiles as you left but your eyes were scanned around the bar.

“He never said where to meet him…” You thought to yourself, “Or maybe it was just a ploy to get you to shut up.” That was probably more likely.

The annoyance was radiating off you slightly when you decided to leave the warmth of the bar and step into the biting cold of the street; the sounds of customers that still littered the place echoing into the frosty air, there wasn’t anyone around, something you noted as you stood on the sideway next to the club – taking in the scene of it all.

Electric Kiss was on a very nice side of town, surrounded by affluent shops and restaurants for the rich, and apartment buildings for the even richer; it wasn’t your usual side of town, the elevators probably worked in the buildings here. It was always a fantasy to think about what it would be like to own a home here, to see the city in its full glory every day and not have to worry about making rent.

“Must be nice…” You commented softly into the air, looking up at one of the bigger apartment complex buildings; the skyscraper-sized tower glittering with thousands of little lights in the early morning.

Winter had its grasp around everything you looked at, the faint sight of steam covering windows while the pavement froze over with a shimmering frost; it was truly beautiful but the beauty was interrupted by the sound of a car engine so much so you rolled your eyes. Thought you thought of it as just a passing car you jumped back slightly from the edge of the sidewalk when a sleek black car pulled up in front of you, the passenger window rolling down so you could peak in. Leaning down slightly, you almost choked at who was driving the car.

“Get in,” Sehun grumbled out, one hand on the wheel while the other used a finger to prop his head up while he leaned on his door, he looked a bit annoyed.

“Why?” You stuttered slightly, confused at what was going on, but he only rolled his eyes before he looked at you.

“You wanted to talk, so we talk,” He sassed you slightly, “I said get in.” He nodded to the door.

You were gaping at him slightly, so much so that you forgot to answer him straight away – his handsome features pulling a face before he shook his head.

“I don’t have time for this shit,” He grumbled, reaching over the dash to creep the window back up – he stopped slightly when you jumped, placing your hand on the closing window to stop it.

“Wait.” You yelped softly, “Just wait.” You huffed before looking around at the empty street, shaking your head you grasped the door handle to the car, pulling it open with a bit of effort before you sat down in Sehun’s passenger seat.

His car was warm and smelled vaguely like cigarettes, not that you minded, but the focus was the man who was driving; the fact that his eyebrows were pulled together in a frown as he looked again.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked softly, keeping your eyes on him; his own flicking to you slightly before he put the car in drive.

“Home.” He grumbled slightly like it was paining him, “Put your seat belt on.” You rolled your eyes at that.

“You’re one to talk,” You sniped slightly, doing what you were told anyway, “Haven’t you been drinking?” He rolled his eyes.

“One drink,” He scoffed, “I’m a busy man, I can’t exactly afford to drink on the job.” You shook your head at him, watching at the night started to pass by you from his tinted window.

“You had questions,” He sighed, “Ask them.” Your eyes flickered back to him slightly while he drove; like everything he did, it was attractive.

“What did Junmyeon mean…” You sighed slightly, settling into the leather of his car seat; it was all black interior, but it didn’t feel cold because of it.

“About the cards?” Sehun hummed while you nodded.

“It would seem, miss bartender…” He began with a sigh as he stopped at a stoplight, “That we have use for you yet.” You frown at that.

“What?” You hesitated slightly, “What do you mean by that?” His face pinched slightly as he turned to you, tiredness settling in his eyes.

“For once, you know a lot more than we do,” He started, glancing at you before his eyes settled back on the road and the driving started again, “That man that was showing up at Oasis, we need to find him and currently you’re the only one in existence right now that knows what he looks like.” Sehun didn’t look proud to admit that.

“Me?” You frowned, “Surely someone else does?” Sehun hummed.

“You’d think,” He started, “The only person that might, won’t tell me, and we can’t find anything on him anywhere.”

“Oasis wasn’t the only joint of mine’s he was… looking into,” Sehun frown, hand gripping the wheel a bit tighter, you listened to eagerly as he spoke, “A few days ago, a few weapons from my stock went missing – the same man that was stealing stock at Oasis was behind it.” You frowned softly as he continued.

“He’s been redistributing the stolen and tampered drug stock at clubs around the city; his latest was Teardrop,” His eyes flicked to yours.

“I’ve been there once or twice, yeah…” You said softly.

“No security cameras could catch him and no one in the crowd could point him out,” Sehun shook his head, annoyed.

“But how does this involve me,” You frowned. “If he’s bold enough to walk into my establishment once, he’ll do it again.” Sehun spoke simply, “We think he’s going to turn up at Electric Kiss, he’s been in clubs in the surrounding areas.”

“And you need me to spot him out?” You asked, clocking your head to the side, “How do you know he won’t just hide from me? After all, he knows what I look like”

“He seems like he loves a thrill,” Sehun glowered slightly, reaching into his glove compartment to retrieve a small box; cigarettes.

You watched in some weird fascination as his free hand managed to get on out of the box and lifted it to his lips, before he quickly grabbed the lighter that was sitting in his pocket and lit it, the waft of expensive cigarettes filling the car before his window was left slightly ajar, so it could filter out. His tongue running over his teeth as he took a draw had you turning away slightly, a blooming of red covering your cheeks at the simple movement.

“Why didn’t you just ask me to help you,” You asked softly.

“Would you have?” He quizzed slightly, ashing his cigarette out the window.

“Maybe…” You stuttered softly as he chuckled.

“It was easier to trick you than to ask you,” He said simply with a slight shrug.

“What about back at the warehouse…” You swallowed thickly, “You didn’t kill me, why?”

“Because I didn’t have to.” He sighed, “Believe it or not, I don’t like shedding unnecessary blood, plus I had my own plan that I had to see come to fruition.”

“I timed everything for a reason,” He continued, “I knew as soon as I put the bag on your head, I only had a few minutes before the police showed up – I knew you weren’t going to die.”

“But the police…” You started before he cut you off.

“To some degree were in on it,” Sehun hummed, “Some of the higher-ups were sniffing around your case, it got worse when our name got tagged to it, I needed you gone quickly and your boss in my possession before someone started sniffing around my business.” He told you honestly.

“I couldn’t just let you go,” He told you, “We all knew the police would find that far too suspicious and you’d be tied to all this, it was easier to stage something”

“But during the interrogation, the officer was saying all this stuff.” You shook your head while he smirked softly, eyes glancing at you.

“I knew you’d crack under pressure, that’s why I had the commissioner interrogate you and lead the thing along,” He chuckled, “It was also a test.”

“A test of what…” You mumbled.

“A test to see if you’d heeded my warning,” He glanced at you again, capturing your eyes with his own, “I wasn’t kidding about the bullet between your eyes.” He smirked darkly.

“I hate you…” You mumbled softly looking out the window, “Like a lot.”

“I’m not too keen on you either, sweetheart,” He hummed, looking at the road with nothing but boredom.

“So, I keep an eye out for your mystery guy, then what?” You grumbled, biting your lip softly as you watched him flick his finished cigarette out the window. “I get fired?”

“If we find him then whatever you want,” He shrugged, “Work at Electric Kiss or leave, I don’t really care, just as long as you keep your mouth shut.” He tapped softly on the leather of his steering wheel.

“Right,” You rolled your eyes, “Charmer aren’t you.” He smirked softly at that.

“You mean you don’t love our talks,” He quizzed with humour behind it, “Or are you upset that I’m not Chanyeol right now?”

“You’ve threatened me every time I’ve talked to you so no, I don’t like our talks,” You huffed, “And I’m not happy with Chanyeol either, he lied to me as well.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll survive,” He mumbled as he pulled into the street that held your apartment block, not commenting further on it.

“I’m sure I will…” You muttered back.

The car dropped into silence as he pulled into the parking lot that sat outside the back of your building, his fancy car probably looking entirely out of place in the shithole that you lived in – for some reason you almost felt embarrassed as he gazed up at your building.

“Not all of us can live in luxury,” You said quickly before he could get a snippy remark in, but you were left a bit confused when he frowned softly.

“You work for where you live, that’s respectable enough,” He muttered, “And luxury isn’t worth what you think it is.” He had a faraway look in his eyes that you couldn’t place.

“I don’t know, you live a pretty comfortable life,” You commented slightly, and it was true – the man probably had more money than you’d ever own or work for.

“Something like that,” He muttered, deciding not to comment any further on your claim. The brief silence you both went into was enough to make you want to crawl out your skin, but you held your composure as you sighed softly.

“Thank you, Sehun…” You said lowly, you hated feeling like you owed someone something and the idea of thanking him after everything he’d done to you left a bad taste in your mouth, but you did it anyway, “For answering my questions and driving me home.”

“Think of it as payment,” He remarked slightly while turning to you, “For almost suffocating you to death,” You chuckled at that.

“It’s going to take more than that to make up for it,” You smiled slightly, locking eyes with him.

He was doing the thing again, where he was trying to work you out from merely just looking at you; his almost black eyes flicking around your face to try and find out your intentions, it was almost flattering but it was also uncomfortable. While you enjoyed looking at his face, you’d rather someone just ask you a question than try to sus you out but knowing what you knew about this man; that wasn’t going to happen.

“I should go…” You spoke softly, “Its late.” Whatever he was into, he snapped out of it while he turned around humming in agreement with you.

“You should,” He nodded keeping his eyes forward.

You looked at him softly, taking in his ridged side profile before you smiled a bit, nodding slightly while you pushed his car door open.

“Goodnight Sehun…” You spoke softly, glancing back into the car as you stood up, you didn’t bother to listen to his reply but you caught it anyway as you slammed the door shut, a small smile lifting your face.

“Goodnight…”

It felt as though you had been punctured but something as you watched his car drive away from you, the feeling of your blood rushing out your veins and leaving your body with that cold feeling of hollowness all while your eyes glanced at the vehicles retreating from. It was an indescribable feeling flooding you every time you found yourself near him, but it was a feeling that all though you’d never admit; you lusted to feel again.

“I wish I could understand you…” You whispered softly, small tuffs of white curling in the space surrounding your mouth; almost like a soul leaving the body, the words falling onto no one but mother nature.

The air was biting as you stood in the small carpark that laid itself out in front of your apartment but despite the chill, you found yourself not whiling to move; you had a lot to take in, and even more to process. It had been a very long night, the timepiece on your wrist reminding you that it was in fact very early morning. It was hours to be alone, but for some reason, a chill crawled its way up your spine that wasn’t an effect of the cold; the eerie feeling of someone else being in the barren car park with you.

Glancing back at the building behind you that held your home, you blinked slowly at the idea of just running into it but foolishly your steps carried you carefully into the middle of the empty lot; borrowed heels crunching on the gravel cracking into the night as you spun slowly to observe what you could.

“Hello?” You spoke softly, looking around at any hideaway spot you could; the balconies that held all the doors and the small allies that cut into different ways to get out the building, “Is anyone there?” Sheer stupidity seemed to be a trademark for you at this point, but after the last few days; if something was going to get you, you’d rather it showed itself.

You were met with silence, the deafening silence that was known as 4:00am and nothing else; barely any light or movement, it seemed like it was just you and your thoughts. But it wouldn’t be out of style for you to jump when you felt the vibration of your phone in your pocket, the new device spurring to life in an angry notification that said you were getting a call. You didn’t even bother to check the caller id before you clicked accept but after what you were met with, you wish you had.

“Where the hell are you!?” Jeonghan snapped on the other end, as your eyes widen.

“Woah…” You began slightly shocked at his tone, “What do you mean?”

“I’m here,” He grumbled, “At Electric Kiss, I said I’d pick you up?” You blanched slightly.

“Jeonghan, I’m so sorry…” You began softly, “I’m already home,” Your eyes scattered around while you made a gentle walk back to your apartment, the familiar feeling of being watched not leaving you.

“How the hell did you get home?” He sounded shocked, and you sheepishly responded.

“A uh… Friend from work drove me,” You lied to him, a small gnaw of guilt eating at you, “I’m sorry I forgot to tell you.” You pouted softly down the phone in the hopes you’d pick up on your tone.

The sigh you heard on the other end confirmed that it worked.

“It’s alright…” He grumbled softly, “Sorry for snapping at you,” He said as you shouldered your way into your apartment, a small grunt passing your lips as you did.

“You’ve only just come home after being kidnapped,” He sighed, “I was just making sure you’d get back alright.”

“Hannie…” You said softly, honestly feeling your heart melt, “It’s okay, I’m okay…” You assured him.

“Do you want me to come over?” He asked while you walked up the stairs to your apartment, choosing to forgo the elevator, “I’m sure I can pick up some food.”

“Hannie, don’t worry about it,” You told him with a small smile, “Go home and get some rest, I’m a big girl, I can stay by myself.” He sighed at that.

“Okay,” You could hear the small smile in his voice, “Just message me tomorrow okay?” You laughed slightly at that.

“I will,” You smiled softly, “Get home safe Jeonghan,” He sighed softly.

“You too…” The call cut off after that, you were in a rush to get back home that you booked it up the last 3 flights of stairs to your floor, your chest-puffing slightly as you scurried to your door – after the car ride with Sehun, you had a lot to look into.

After practically falling into your apartment, you kicked your shoes off and made your way into your bedroom – making haste to boot up your laptop while you sorted yourself out for the rest of the morning. Electric Kiss needed you in by 7 tomorrow to work a short shift since they were working out your rota, so you had time to do what you needed, and what you needed right now was not to go to bed.

The blinking of the cursor of the search engine you were using was taunting you as your fingers hovered above the keyboard – the limps twitching to write; you were doing your own research since you couldn’t trust anyone to tell you anything anymore, so you wasted no time in typing what you needed into the search bar.

‘Oh Sehun’, You bit your lip softly as your eyes tried to take in the search page.

You weren’t sure what you expected, he wasn’t a celebrity by any means, but the cloud of news articles that littered the page was a bit overwhelming.

“New heir of Oh Industries takes over after Owners death.”

“Owner of Oh Industries, Oh Dae-suk, passes in a drive-by murder, rumours of son to take over.”

“Oh Sehun named CEO of Oh Industries after legal battle.”

The search was littered with dozens of pages about how Sehun came to be the heir of the company he fronted, something that was clearly a decoy for whatever Exodus was. But you could feel a slight tension in your shoulders as pictures of him from the past popped up; one, in particular, was a photo of a teenage Sehun at his father’s funeral, a far cry from what he looked like now.

Shaggy haired and red-eyed, Sehun looked miserable as they caught a photo of him coming out of a funeral car; flagged by a woman you could only guess was his mother, your heart bled a little as you looked at him, he was so young. Flickering down you read the passage under the photo.

Heir to the Oh family, Oh Sehun, and his mother Oh Jieun pictured stepping out for the first time in public after the death of the CEO Oh Daeksuk – flagged by family and friends the mourning family attend the wake in his honour.

You felt a bit sick reading how the family were being hounded even on such a sad day like a funeral, but you clicked out the article anyway. Another one instantly catching your interest.

Rumour: Oh Sehun tied to gang affiliation after leaked photos show millionaire CEO partying with Criminals?

Rumours broke Saturday night after Oh Sehun was pictured partying with suspected drug cartel member Jung Insik in Rouge lounge earlier in the week. The two seemed friendly on the couch of the VIP section, sharing drinks and laughing with each other, although partiers claim there was nothing suspicious going on between the pair it's suspicious that the CEO of a medical company is hanging around with a suspect in a large drugs case – Oh Industries couldn’t be reached for a statement.

You puffed air out of your mouth as you read it, already in the know to what the young CEO gets into behind closed doors – to you it was clear that Oh Industries seemed to be front for Exodus, they were rarely in the news for anything else with the last article on Sehun being nearly a year ago about his charitable donations to an organisation; it made sense that they’d hide in plain sight, no one could accumulate that much money and not be talked about in some regard.

It was interesting to read, but it told you nothing about the man in question; just that he liked to party, his father died when he was young and that the new suspected him of doing dodgy things but nothing had been given as solid evidence to confirm any rumours. Sehun and his gang were truly an enigma, not even a mention of any of the other members anywhere associated with his name.

It was very early in the morning at this point, but you had no intention of stopping anytime soon; you were going to find out whatever you could about this man, even if it meant a sleepless night.

“Who are you, Oh Sehun…”

The next day, for the first time in forever, felt completely and utterly normal; you woke up at noon after staying up most of the morning doing research and you could leisurely get ready for work after eating a huge breakfast since you declined to eat anything last night. It was nice to not have anyone hounding you or jumping you for once, it was that peaceful that when you did eventually turn up for your shift it flew past in a breeze. Neither women from the night before were working with you today but you were introduced to both Seulgi and Yeri, both of whom welcomed you with open arms when you came through the door. It was nice, and it was a peaceful day at work, or as peaceful as it could be working in a bar, but you enjoyed it none the less; it was a lot less stressful than what Oasis had been.

What you didn’t prepare for was what was waiting for you at home.

You had got home just after midnight after sharing a cab with Seulgi who lived near the complex that you lived in, the street was as always quiet as it normally was at night and honestly, you felt like nothing could go wrong when you go into your apartment, but that hope was shattered after 15 minutes after getting home; 3 weak knocks sounding at your door.

“What the…” You spoke softly to yourself, barely getting a chance to settle into your couch before you were called up again.

Freaked out and slightly scared, you grabbed you keys as a form of defence while you slowly opened the door but they were dropped in an instant when your eyes caught sight of what was on the other side.

Chanyeol, hunched over and holding his side with one hand while the other kept him steady on your door frame, the strong stench of metallic filling your nose as you watched his stained hands slip slightly on the wood of your door.

“Chanyeol,” You yelped rushing to catch the 6 foot something man that started to tip over, “What the hell happened to you?” You stressed trying to tug him instead, your nose curling at the smell of blood.

“Ran into slight difficulties on the job,” He wheezed slightly, tripping up while trying to walk with you; flinching as you slammed the door behind him.

“Difficulties?” You snapped a bit scared; your eyes were wide as you tried to get a look at him.

It was clear that he’d been stabbed in the side, the way he was clutching the area was a dead giveaway; along with the blood that stained his fingers. He looked ashen and pale while he tried to look at you; a cold sweat clouding over his skin, something you could feel as you tried to hold him up.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” You demanded, dragging him to your small bathroom; his body wincing softly at the bright light that emitted from the room.

“Can’t,” He wheezed again as you managed to get him to sit on your counter, your small hands pushing him back completely so the wall could support him, “They ask too many questions.” He winced again at your pushing.

“And you think I can handle this?” You gestured wildly to his wound, in this light you could see he had a few bruises and cuts on his face, “How did this happen?” You demanded softly, raiding one of your bathroom drawers for the first aid kit.

“Baekhyun and I were on a job not too far from here,” Chanyeol could slightly, groaning while he pulled his shirt over his head knowing he had to, “We were following a tip-off that was given to us, but we were jumped.” You jumped slightly at his bare torso but puffed out air to try and compose yourself, the man was possibly dying on your counter.

“Where’s Baekhyun now?” You stressed slightly, wetting a rag to try and clot his wound.

There was a massive gash on the lower right side of his stomach, it looked deep, and he groaned loudly as you pressed down on it, your own mouth shushing in slightly as you did.

“I don’t know,” His face was screwed up in pain, “We got separated.”

“Right,” You swallowed thickly, “Chanyeol, I don’t know what you want me to do about this, I’m not a nurse…” He looked down at you with a sad smile, something flickering in his eyes, he was extremely pale right now, almost deathly.

“Just try and stop the bleeding,” He rasped out, unaware that his hand was clutching the sleeve of your shirt, “Do you have a needle?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how to stitch a wound,” You panicked out, watching his eyes flutter shut softly, “It’s like sewing a shirt…” He sounded a bit far away now like he was having a conversation, but it wasn’t with you.

“Chanyeol,” You shook him softly, “You have to stay awake.” He was slumping slightly, the blood lost evident on his face.

Taking your free hand, you slapped him softly on the cheek trying to coax him into staying up, “Chanyeol, please…”

“Hmm…” He hummed softly trying to move his face away from the slap, “Please just hurry…” He gargled softly while you started to panic.

“Chanyeol.” You snapped slightly, hitting him a bit harder but it wasn’t working.

You gruntled when he suddenly slumped forward, his head banging onto your shoulder with a hard thump as you winced; the feeling of his hand letting go of your sleeving extremely worrying.

“Chanyeol…” You could feel his soft breaths on the exposed skin of your neck before your eyes widened something spilling out his lips that’s clearly wasn’t directed at you.

“Don’t worry Yoora, I’ll be okay…”

[womanoflettersinthebunker]

It was still crying.

 Rowena grabbed the straw filled pillow and dragged it over her head, trying to breathe through her mouth so that she didn’t smell the rotten milk coming from the blankets she was trying to sleep on top of.

 It had felt like she had just fallen into her makeshift cot, hours upon hours of being on her feet and lugging around tray after tray of ale. She was sure that her bum was bruised from all the slaps and pinches she had to ignore and she was down to one last good shirt that wasn’t ripped from being tugged.

 She was exhausted and it was still crying.

 Feeling near tears herself she finally dragged the pillow away and sat up, taking a deep breath as she stared at the bundle a few feet away. She had wrapped it and placed it on the thickest blanket to prevent the cold of the wood. That had to mean something, it had to show that she was trying, right?

 She didn’t even have the strength to get up, she had to crawl along the dust and splinters, her threadbare gown hiking up and the wood scraping at her skin. She reached out for the bundle and grabbed at it, dragging it over to her.

 It whimpered, staring up at her. Its eyes were turning more and more green with each passing day.

 More like his eyes.

 Rowena closed her and leaned back, hissing when she fell back on her behind. She moved so that she could lean on her legs instead, head pressed against the wall.

 She can’t keep doing this, she can’t keep going. She barely had enough money to rent this barn for the both of them, empty of animals thankfully for the time being but the owner had warned her that come next week she was going to have to leave unless she wanted to share the area with a few cows.

 At least the cows would be quieter than when it's crying.

 She had barely gotten the job working in the pub, she was an unwed mother of a bastard child, one of the least reputable sorts, she was lucky that they didn’t throw rocks at her when she walked through the town. The job was hard and demanding, she wasn’t exactly strong and broad and the pregnancy and the birth had left her weaker than before.

 The men were the worst, the whole lot of them, there were the constant whispers that she’d sleep with any man that so much gave her a smile leading to these men grabbing at her skirts and dresses, yanking her to their laps as their hands slid up.

 She couldn’t even slap them, angry drinkers aren't anyone's favorite. It was made worse when the barkeep wouldn’t so much take her side and at times threatened her to lose her job if she tried to do anything.

 So she had to resort to running away, letting them touch her until she saw an opening and ran to the back, the urge to vomit rising in her throat as she tried to control herself enough to get back to serving the drinks and food.

 She couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep living like this, wasn’t meant for this.

 Her grandmother, the one person that she knew loved her no matter what, had assured her that she had been meant for great things. That the day she had been born her grandmother had slaughtered a goat and torn the liver apart with her bare hands, had read the ridges and burned the bones until they cracked. She had read each and every part of the goat and much to her pleasure she had told her parents that Rowena had been meant for great things, to become more powerful than even her.

 Neither of her parents really listened to her, her grandmother came from the older part of the world, of things already forgotten or forsaken in favor of church and a god that never answered prayers.

 Rowena had believed her and her teachings, the little she had managed to whisper to her under her parents suspicious eyes. Had believed in her visions and her words, and had hoped that they would come true.

 She’s never felt more like a failure, more worthless than she did at this moment, staring down at her biggest mistake as it whimpered and cried up at her.

 Her grandmother had warned her about one thing, not to give her heart to a man, not to allow anyone especially not a powerful man into her mind, lest it would bring her great suffering.

 But she hadn’t listened. She had fallen for him, her Ronald, and had allowed him to take her into his bed, staining it with the blood of her first, and later the blood of birth.

 He had been graceful enough to allow her into his house when she had been giving birth but the moment the babe had left her he had grabbed her by the arm and threw her out.

 His wife had returned that night, and couldn't allow the true grand wife see the mistress that her husband had taken in her absence.

 So she had been alone, blood still staining her legs and a crying newborn babe in her arms. Her parents had thrown her out when her stomach had rounded, she was too thin to even hope of hiding it behind baggy clothing, and she had nowhere to go.

 By luck she had managed to find the town she was in, by luck she had found herself a kind enough of a family that was willing to house her and even give her a job. She was in their debt and quite frankly…

 She hated being indebted to anyone.

 She had a goal, she had an idea. She just needed enough money to gather supplies and be able to get on her way to her grandmother. Despite everything her grandmother would still help her, still love her, she had to.

 She was her last hope for help.

Her grandmother had known she had been coming. She had heard it on the whispers on the wind and the scent of blood that clung to her.

 She hadn’t had time to wash it off, he had grabbed her, had held a knife to her throat, had ripped at her dress front. She had panicked and grabbed the knife and everything moved fast after that but the end result was the man was dead in front of her, she was covered in his blood and a knife in her hand.

 So she just made it worse. She ransacked his pockets and took all the coins he had, kept the knife, and ran to the barn where it was, watched over by the families children. Had grabbed it and everything she had stashed away and ran. Ran until her legs ached and hurt in ways they never had before and yet she pushed on.

 She stopped in two towns over to spend the coin for food and cloth for the both of them and continued on, not having enough for a horse and not willing to spend more coin on an inn. She followed the stone path set out and continued on through the forest and trees until it threatened to choke her.

 She walked until her feet bled and stained her shoes, walked until she could no longer feel the pain, until the pain melted into something she couldn’t feel or name.

 It was thankfully quiet, barely crying at times and when it did it quietened just as quickly.

 She felt like a shell once she finally reached her grandmother's cottage, hidden by blood and those same whispers she had told her, the same way she knew her future and her fate. Her clothes might as well be rags and she couldn’t feel her feet anymore.

“Oh Rowena.” her grandmother clicked her tongue as she looked over her granddaughter. She reached out and took it from her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and bringing her inside. “What have you done?”

 She couldn’t even speak, she was that tired. Rowena just leaned against her before she placed on a bed, a real, soft bed, and she fell unconscious without even realizing it or having a chance to fight it.

 She wasn’t sure how long she slept but when she woke up the sun was still shining outside and there was a thick blanket covering her. Her head was pounding and her entire body still hurt. Breathing out slowly she moved to sit up, hand coming up to wipe at her face as she looked around the room she was in. There was a basin of water, a strange marking on the wood that glowed and she could see steam coming from the water.

 Standing up on shaking legs she quickly pulled her clothes off, throwing them to the ground, and slid into the water, a pitiful sound escaping her as she was enveloped by the warm water. She just sat there for a few minutes, just letting the water soak into her before she started to wash herself, scrubbing the blood and dirt off of her skin as best as she could. Her feet were throbbing in the water but at the same time the heat helped.

 She gathered her hair up and dunked it into the water as well, washing it and pinning it up before she finally stepped out of the basin. Spotting a small pile of clothes on the ground, she quickly pulled them on, more than happy to wear something clean again. There were no shoes, grandmother didn’t believe in them, and she was more than alright with leaving them behind.

 Taking a deep breath she left the room she was in and walked out to the main room where her grandmother was currently feeding it.

 “You’ve slept the whole day away and a new one has started.” her grandmother told her. “The wee one has been eating nonstop, I’d take that you are hungry as well.”

 Her stomach growled and clenched at her and she nodded rapidly, immediately going to the table and grabbing the loaf of bread, ripping it into pieces and stuffing it into her mouth. There was cheese on the table and various fruits and some meat that her grandmother pushed at her. She sat down at the table and ate her fill, ate until her stomach hurt and still continued, unable to stop.

 Breathing heavily she accepted the cup of tea her grandmother gave her, sipping it and allowed the scolding hot liquid to warm her from the inside.

 It made a few noises in the silence, babbling something and waving its arms in the air.

 “What’s his name?” her grandmother asked.

 “Doesn’t have one.” Rowena told her. “Didn’t want to give it one.”

 Her grandmother just hummed at that, sitting in the other chair staring at her. “I had warned you not to give yourself to a man.” she reminded her. “You never listen. Just like your mother, she never listens to me either and now she pays the price.” she shook her head. “All I wanted was what was best for you girls but not you nor her ever listened to me.”

 It's not easy for her to apologize. Never has been and she doubts that that will change.

 “If I had known that you were going to give birth I would have started fattening a goat.” her grandmother continued. “At his age I’m going to have to use a bird instead. Don’t get as good a reading from them but it’ll be better than nothing.”

 “Don’t read for it.” Rowena said, taking another sip of her tea. “Just...don’t.”

 “You can play pretend all you want, no name and no reading but you care enough that you brought him along.” her grandmother told her, reaching for her smoking pike and waving it at her. “But suit yourself, he won’t be the first babe here.”

 Rowena took a deep breath, feeling the ache deep in her bones. “I’m tired.”

 “No doubt. Stay as long as you want, my home is open to blood.” her grandmother said before standing. “I’m going to capture a bird, pity the only ones around are crows.”

 With that her grandmother left, left her with it just feet away. She paid it no attention and just drank her tea, staring at the ground as she tried to figure out what to do. After some time she heard the sound of a knife slamming down onto wood and her grandmother came back, holding the beheaded body of a crow.

 She walked it to the counter and took another knife, slicing it open with practiced ease. Rowena watched as her grandmother collected the innards, sniffing each one and opening it with the tip of the blade. She carefully collected each bone, then into a bowl which she then placed over a fire.

 The bones cracked and broke apart, her grandmother frowned as she read each one, taking the bigger pieces out and examining each one, turning it to read it in the sunlight. The smaller bones were grinded down and she used her finger to scoop some up, licking at it. She looked at it and didn’t say anything, taking a feather from the crow and handing it to it.

 “Well?” Rowena couldn’t help but ask. “What do you see?”

 “A very interesting, long future.” her grandmother said thoughtfully. “One that, if it comes true, will be very fascinating to see.”

 “Anything specific?”

 Her grandmother pursed her lips as she watched it. “Not at the moment.” she said slowly, and Rowena didn’t believe her. “But he’s going to be very interesting.”

 The next morning she felt strong enough to get up and pack, ready to leave. She had regained enough of her strength to keep moving and she had to, she didn’t want to remain here. Didn’t want to be in the same place as it was.

 “You're leaving.” her grandmother stated, watching her with a raised eyebrow. “You taking the babe with you?”

 “No.” Rowena said curtly, tightening the cloth around her neck. “I’ll just be gone a few months, I’ll be back.”

 Her grandmother hummed once more, she wasn’t sure if she believed her or just accepted it.

 But she meant it, she was going to be back. She just needed to be able to earn some more coin without it being a stigma on her.

 “If you come back, I’ll teach ya.” her grandmother told her. “Teach ya everything your mam didn’t want you to know but should.”

 The forbidden words, the whispers and the readings that her grandmother was able to do. A promise of power that gave life to the older woman.

 She never really knew how old she was after all, nor how long she had lived.

 “Alright.” Rowena said, checking her bag once more before she hoisted it onto her shoulder. “A few months, I’ll be back before the winter comes.”

 “You should name him.” her grandmother told her. “Giving the babe a name means to give it a future.”

 “You already said that it had a future.” Rowena reminded her. “You read it in the bird.”

 “Birds can be deceitful, especially a crows heart.” she told her. “A name is certainty and a promise of life.”

 Rowena hesitated, allowing herself to glance back and look at it in her grandmother's arms. It looked more like him every day.

 But she meant what she said, she would return in a few months. Return for her grandmother's teachings and, unfortunately, for it.

 Her grandmother stared at her expectantly. If there is any place she had inherited her stubbornness along with her red hair it was from her.

 She stared at it and it stared back at her. It gurgles a sound and despite herself she felt something uncurling inside of her at the sight of it.

 “Fergus.” she finally said. “His name is Fergus.”

 With that she turned and left, walking down the path that seemed to come together for her, heading to town that was half a day's walk away from here.

 She’d be back for him, she would. She tightened her grip on the strap of her bag and kept walking.

 She just needed some time. Some time to steady her feet, away from him, and then she’d come back.

[stusbunker]

He Is, Therefore I Am

A Supernatural Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean and Sam Winchester

Written for: @impala-dreamer‘s Make Me Feel It Challenge

Beta’d by the amazing: @itmighthavebeenintentional​

Inspired by: Brandi Carlile’s The Story

Warnings: Show level violence and angst.

^*^*^*^

      I am struggling here, which is kind of funny when you think about it. In one way or another, my life has been a perpetual struggle. But that’s all Chuck’s fault, isn’t it? Everything I’ve done to push back the tide has only opened another fissure somewhere else. Because that’s what he wanted, he liked to keep us dancing for him. There might be no way out of this now, but there is one thing I know for certain: it’s not going to end on his terms. Sam and I aren’t going to off each other. That’s not Chuck’s call, that one never was.

               ----

               Dean’s tired. I feel it almost as much as I feel my own exhaustion, like a shell around him. He nods as I explain my plans for the day, but he’s not really hearing me. I can’t keep the chuckle from my voice when I tell him I’ll wake him up if I find anything. He hums a response and I raise my voice and shake him a bit to wake him enough to make it the last ten feet from the door jam to the bed. I don’t even taste the coffee once it’s finished brewing.

               ----

               Sam’s been quiet since Eileen’s not around. Sucks; kid had that genuine lightness to him from the moment she had been brought back. And now, it’s fraying. If anybody deserves somebody, it’s Sammy. I know it’s impossible with what we do, hell I’ve proven it is. But he should get some happily ever after crap, even if it’s just happily for as long as possible. Another thing Chuck needs to be punched over, honestly, just fuck that fucking asshole.

               I’ve been tryin’ to keep him smiling, or at least out of his head when we’re on the road. Laying on the bad notes more than necessary, he doesn’t need to know I’m doing it on purpose. Some songs were made to be belted out, ‘snot my fault. I catch a glimpse of my eyes in the rearview; shit, when’d the wrinkles start sticking?

               But Sammy’s singing along now, and I forget my vanity. Because this is my happily-for-as-long-as-possible.

               ----

               It’s so fucking dark that I close my eyes and listen, silently begging to find them first, to pull myself together, to find a way out. My gun’s in my hand, lightweight and familiar, brick wall biting into my back as I creep around into the next room. Even though I can barely see, I can feel the space expanding out in front of me, gaping with possibility. Somewhere, metal crashes and I stop being cautious.

               “DEAN?!” No one answers.

               I’m nearing some scaffolding, try to step around it without rocking it, but there’s someone else here now. I can feel their eyes in the dark, but I still can’t see them. They don’t seem to even breathe. Maybe they’re not werewolves. And suddenly I feel very exposed. I turn on the spot, anticipating the ambush. It doesn’t come. Everything goes quiet, then a shot rings out somewhere outside. I give up on quiet and bolt for the industrial sized door at the far end of the warehouse.

               Another shot is fired, but I don’t register it because there’s more than two after all.

               ----

               Sam shoulda cleared the building already, it’s practically empty from the remodeling anyhow. The tarps in the windows rustle in the wind high above my head as I keep to the perimeter. I’m banking on it being a bust, but then I hear him scream my name and I’m running. The gravel is loose, so I gotta slow down to keep from biting it. As I round the corner, aiming for the service entrance connecting the two buildings, I spook one of them.

               He’s big but fast, and he gets me with his claws as I land a right hook. My shoulder’s screaming as I land on it. I roll and quickly get a shot off. It only slows him down. I kick away and fire again.

               ----

               I sidestep right before reaching the crumbling pavement, throwing the one on my heels out with their own momentum. The one that had been watching me goes for my knees and, I’m already aiming, but all-too-soon missing him.

               “Sammy!” Dean’s hollering, but he’s somewhere on the other end of the building and I’m falling.

He’s okay.

It’s going to be okay; keep fighting.

               The cement floor gets me hard and I am struggling to get another shot off. But the one I dodged is on me again, and all I can see is the mass of his torso and the floor. I choke on the stench of them. The demon knife bites into my lower back as I twist to reach it. My hand crumbles beneath a heavy boot. I’m screaming in pain and then, almost in slow motion, I see him reach wide, a clawed hand ready to swipe at my throat. My eyes slam shut.

               ----

               Sam musta found the other one because there’s matching shots seconds after I put the big one down. I call for him, but don’t hear anything back. Instantly, I’m booking it to the far end where I am hoping they are. The crunch of gravel is giving me away, but soon I reach a derelict parking lot that gets me to the bend where I can see a stocky wolf stumble back inside a delivery door.

               I hit the gas, gun tight in my sweaty hand.

               When I reach the door, I scream at the heap that is half my brother. The guy flinches enough for me to get three in his chest. But then I’m on my ass, again! Wrestling the third one Sam had insisted existed. I pin an arm behind his back, but he’s getting too close with his fangs now. I roll and try and get him in a leg lock, his free hand nearly gutting me. I hear Sam behind me, so I roll again, presenting his back for a clear shot. Like a fucking meat shield.

               I can’t help but laugh, Sam shot lefty and we still got ‘em.

               “Anymore?” I’m riding the high that only comes from almost biting it.

               “Not that I’ve seen,” Sam groans, shaking out his right hand. My victory is short lived as I internally panic over his injury. ‘What the hell happened’ screams in my head, a voice that I won’t ever completely lose berating me.

               “You alright?” I check, but don’t get all mother hen about it. He’s standing for god’s sake.

               “Think it’s broken,” Sam huffed. Fucking hospitals.

               We make it back to my baby and I try, “you think Jack could---?”

               Sam shakes his head and grimaces, it’s bad. I stop asking questions and high tail it back to town.

               ----

               Newly minted insurance cards from the juice we got from Fortuna ended up saving us a lot of time and energy. I swear I’m the only one who gets their hands taken from them; Dean’s playing at trying not to gloat. But if he wasn’t so smug, I know he’d be internalizing it as his fault, so I shake my head at him and give him the finger behind the nurse’s back as I wait. Finally, I can dole out the information for the pharmacy closest to the bunker to the woman at the desk.

               My hand’s plastered and I dry swallow the first round of painkillers before we make it home. All I want is to pass the fuck out, but I’ve got wolf guts in my hair and I can smell my own dried sweat as I haul myself out of the Impala. This night will never end.

               Dean beat me to the shower, but he doesn’t turn on the water. I give him five minutes until I can barely stand upright and pound with the side of my cast and immediately regret it.

               “Dude! Hurry up already!”

               He pulls the door open, fully clothed with a plastic shopping bag strung through one fist.

               “Took you long enough, come here.” He beckons me in, takes my bum wrist and threads my hand through the bag until he can tie it off. Dean whips a roll of first aid tape out of his back pocket and proceeds to seal off the bag while ensuring that I lose the most amount of arm hair when unraveling it. He slaps the closure and I groan without looking at him.

               I thank him before he leaves me alone, but he just waves it off, heads to his room and gives me the first shower. Tonight could have been so much worse and I try not to overanalyze it as I let the hot water add to my wooziness. I keep afloat until I pass as clean. I fall into bed not five minutes later, safe and sound once again because my brother had my back. How the fuck can Chuck think that is going to change?

               -----

               I gotta drag Sam’s fucking goldy locks out of the drain before I can even start my shower. Gross. But the water pressure does its magic. I almost pass out standing up, I feel so relaxed. Glad I sucked down that second coffee over dinner, it was a bitch driving in. I glance in Sammy’s room as I pass, he’s already snoring. Drugs must be workin’.

               Cas and Jack are on some trail and at this point I don’t know if I want to know. Between Billie and the hearts, it’s just another fucking ordeal. Another flaming hoop. But, at least the kid’s alive, and Cas has eyes on him this go ‘round. My shirt feels tight around the collar, so I pull it off. I bury myself in my sheets, fighting to get comfortable.

               The hunt flashes before my eyes, everything over with in the blink of an eye. Just like yesterday and tomorrow. And every miserable fucking day of my entire life. Except we pulled it off. We keep pulling it off, and with whatever Chuck’s got comin’ I’m lucky because I’ve got Sam in my corner. Because without him, I’d be dead. Without me? He’d probably hit another dog, at the very least.

               It’s quiet, I eye the light creepin’ beneath the door. Exhaustion burrows into my memories, but instead of darkness, it surfaces with only the steady echo of Sam’s heavy breathing in some motel room, every motel room. The familiar rhythm settles something inside me, finally letting me sleep.

^*^*^

Tags: @flamencodiva​ @dolphincliffs​  @dontshootmespence​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​  @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @defenderrosetyler​ @ericaprice2008​ @princessofthefandomrealm​ @awesomesusiebstuff​  @wingedcatninja​

[kadenatherstoneposts]

A Guest Needed To Be Fed.

"That's right run you motherfucker!!" I yelled while bending over and placing my hands on my knees, the humid night not alleviating the pain in my lungs as I gasped for air. He'd run me a merry dance, the only reason I'd slowed? I was sure my ankle snapped on the last rooftop jump to the warehouse floor, giving a small wiggle of the joint confirmed it as a  pain shot up through my shin bone and down through my foot. I collapsed on the asphalt. My life wasn't supposed to be like this; I wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. I could have been a fighter pilot, a fireman, hell I could have been a door to door salesman. Instead, I sat here, removing my boot on the floor in a derelict warehouse. Fucking vampires. Training sucked, I fucking hated it, I'd vowed never to become this from the first day I found out what 'this curse' was. Stalking dark places to put an end to obscure things, it was a damn movie script, not a life. This had not been on my "List Of Things To Do Before You Reach 40.'

There are few milestones in a boy's life he isn't aware of until it happens. The first time you wake up with your dick rock hard, and the damn thing won't go down regardless of what you do. The first time you wake up with your dick cemented to the bed sheets and anything else within the crotch region. When you turn eighteen, your father hands you a gilded gold book, and a card with some words on that are in some language you've never seen, let alone spoken. The first two I'm not even going to get into, let me tell you if you've got a son for fuck sake explain it to him before it happens. Therapy is expensive. The third one just happened to be me; I was the lucky one. So my father told me.

The book. It's history. The history of Hunters, yes it says that on the front. Imaginative, I know. Imagine being an eighteen-year-old, not a very mature one at that. I still laughed when Grandma farted every Christmas, how was I supposed to know at the time that 'fart humour' wouldn't go away. I was told to read it. I thought the Bible was big, this far outweighed anything I'd seen before. Two years it had taken me to read every page, every handwritten note in the margins, even the neatly scribbled out parts which took some deciphering, I should have sent it off to those women who broke codes in the war. Here I was eighteen years later, sitting on my ass with a throbbing foot. Fuck. My. Life. My fist slammed into the ground with frustration; asphalt started to spray into the air as I continued. I wiggled my foot, gave a grunt, stopped pummelling the ground and slipped my foot back into the boot.

"Okay, you fucking asshole, I'm coming for you." I leapt to my feet, checked my guns, the sword that sat across my back swayed slightly as I took off into the night. The vampire hadn't tried to run too far, dumb fucking shit, wasn't like he needed to stop because he was out of breath. I dropped down from the balcony I'd been on; after I'd run along the rooftops. It was an easy way to get around and to stop from being seen by an average human. I released the baton I kept in my boot as I hit the floor, skimming his knuckles with the wood; in return, he gave me a sneer. The vampire adjusted his stance then blurred so quickly he seemed to disappear. I stood stock-still, listening carefully, I could hear his footsteps as he began circling me, silence replaced the steps, and as it did I dived out the way before his hand connected to any part of my body, twisting mid-air as I hit out with my foot. My foot came to a stop as I felt the vibration down my leg of the hit. The vampire stumbled and by doing so gave me the chance to bring the baton closer to him as I swung, he didn't let it phase him, his arm came up, and his fist hit my face. His foot followed and hit me in the ribs, I grunted as the whole inside of my body shook. I spat out the blood that had filled my mouth from the punch while adjusting my stance. I held the vampire's gaze as he bared his fangs, then dropped to my knees. I brought my hand up over my shoulder and pulled out the sword which sat there, as my knees hit the floor I brought the sword up, the blade sunk up to the hilt into the vampires groin, it wouldn't kill him, but it would slow him, as I quickly stood I brought the sword with me, splitting the vampire from crotch upwards. My arm removed the sword from his body, the vampire hissed at me, but I cut that short by bringing down the sword onto its neck, slicing through the skin and bone like butter. His head rolled across the ground as I caught my breath. Bruised but not too bad, nothing I knew wouldn't heal quickly I collected the head and threw it with the body, pulling a lighter from my pocket I set the fucking remains on fire and headed home.

I'd come across the empty nuclear bunker on one of my scouting missions; now it was my home, and it held everything dear to me. I needed to clean up, a change of clothes from my excursion and encounter with the vampire. So that's where I headed. The place was desolate, an empty field, nothing around for miles, I had no clue as to whom owned the bunker, so I'm guessing if there had been a nuclear war the stupid fuck wouldn't have made it here anyway. The baron walls, the labyrinth of tunnels, even the cold water, everything had become familiar quickly, also wandering around in the partially lit passageways had become second nature. The slap of my bare feet echoed around the concrete walls as I made my way from the bathroom to my bedroom, my ankle now perfectly healed, all bruises, cuts evaporated as though they didn't exist in the first place.

An urge pulled at me as I walked passed the table set in the corner of the room, my fingers reached out and touched the book that sat in pride of place, for a second I stood looking down at it, images running rampant through my mind. I allowed myself to relish in those images of carnage, horror and pain, inhaling a gasp as I felt the elation from the perpetrator of those images. I enjoyed the feelings of excitement; goosebumps ran wild over my body, a surge of sexual desire wrapped around me, my dick hardened, a moan fell from my mouth. I removed from fingers from the book, as quickly as the feelings had overcome me they ceased, with a glance I reached out again, but quickly pulled my fingers back, the emotions were becoming addictive. I couldn't recall when the words had started to affect me, but they had. The descriptions are written of what had been done, and I felt every one of them, the agony, the exhilaration, the rage, the stimulation of causing pain and the need to receive it, the claustrophobic feeling of being closed off.  

I grabbed a pair of shorts and pulled on a t-shirt, slipping my feet into my unlaced boots. I left my room. The corridor I took went on for miles; it's what made it the perfect place to my guest. My footsteps echoed in halls of silence; the massive six-foot thick lead door opened much more fluidly than you'd expect as I scanned my palm. The room I entered dark. As soon as I flicked the switch light shone down into the middle of the room, there hung on a cross,  was the remnants my first demon. He was still alive, just. The radio in the corner of the room exploded to life. I had police radios in every place I used. There was a body, I had to get there first.

"You'll have to wait." The demon looked at me with unfocusing, half-lidded eyes. As I left the room, the lights switched themselves off, and the door closed.

Over time I've come to accept what I am. I even have to admit that I get off hunting down the fucking things that hide in shadows and go bump in the night. That doesn't mean there still aren't times I wish I was in my bed wrapped up, warm and not on the streets at three am. Fucking bitterly cold winters nights are the worst. The street lights here were out, some clever little bastard taking potshots I guessed. The cloudless sky was allowing me to by moonlight; I'd take what I could get. At least I couldn't read all the graffiti on the walls. This area was mainly filled with filthy warehouses and factories, the odd house dotted here and there, how did people live here? Grunting at the mere thought. The freezing wind slapped me around the head as I rounded a corner, lifting the collar on my coat and slipping my hands in my pocket, as I stride towards my destination. I reached the back of one of the warehouses quick enough, the silhouette of a body coming into view. "Motherf..." My voice cut off as I came face to face with the body. Bending I took a closer look. A human male, late forties I guessed by his weathered features. His hands had been situated as though praying, and there was no blood on his clothes. The blood instead was making a vast pool near his neck; actually, it was pooling just where his head should be. Did I mention his head wasn't on his body? I stood and moved around his headless corpse. Again I stooped to my haunches scrutinising the skin on his neck; this wasn't a clean wound, some sort of serrated edge had been used. Before I could get any more information from the dead man, sirens screeched with accompanying blue lights coming into view. Standing up, I threw myself at the wall, scaling it to the top. As if I didn't have enough to deal with already. The dead body I'd left behind was an enigma; it wasn't a vampire that had removed that head. The only solace to the whole situation was that the head stayed placed next to the praying corpse, at least the cops would be able to identify the body and give his family some peace. I was still antsy when I got back to the bunker. My muscles twitched with energy, my whole system was still on overdrive, and there were only a few things that could sedate this feeling. Hunting was out as the police were everywhere, I'd already been to the gym three times today, that left one thing. I didn't shower or change before wandering the maze of tunnels in the bunker; I didn't need to. What was waiting for me in one of the rooms didn't care and neither did I. Standing before the door; a small grin curled on my lips, I closed my eyes, allowing the energy to run through my body, the adrenaline to pump into every muscle I had. Placing my palm on the touchpad on the wall, it flared to life, the sounds of the locking mechanism opening echoed down the desolate corridor.

"Kaden." The voice that greeted me a little shocked, giving away he wasn't prepared to see me. I gave just a nod in reply to my name. The male's eyes honed in on my face; I heard the small gulp as he swallowed and stood up.

The tanned skin of his wrist looked perfect inside the black wrist straps, his legs held open by the same devices too, all the straps connected to chains which gave him a little leeway to move, for now. Standing in front of the naked, chained male, the leather strips from the whip I had in my hand trailing on the floor beside me. My fingers tightened around the handle as my arm lifted, the sound of the whip hitting his skin heaven to my ears, new welts appeared with each lash, the muscular, tanned abs now zigged zagged with exquisite patterns of pain. The male's dick had hardened and was standing to attention; bringing the whip further down his torso to incorporate his hips, bringing his dick the attention it deserved with leather, his arms and legs now pulling against the straps that had him in place. Sweat was starting to roll down my back, my dick pressing against the confines of the jeans I wore. Yanking the shirt I wore over my head in one pull but refrained from removing anything else, the pain he was in didn't stop him looking at me salaciously. I dropped the whip to the floor, moving forward undoing the straps holding his hands in place, my fingers reached up grabbing his hair and as I did his legs gave way, he knelt in front of me, giving a small nod, he knew what to do. His welted arms reached up, my fingers still entangled in his hair, his shaking fingers undid my jeans, and as he did my dick sprung from them, his tongue sprang from his lips, licking at the head of my dick. His mouth formed a perfect 'o', and his cheeks indented as he sucked my full length into his mouth, the tip of my dick passed the back of his throat as his hands reached up to my ass, his fingers digging into my skin making my hip thrusts harder. My hand continued to pull his hair back and forth in rhythm with me, now and again I'd stop with my dick deep in his throat, enjoying the warmth of his throat and the gagging sound. I fell forward, one arm reaching out to the wall to which his legs were still chained. My hips bucked wildly and unhindered as my balls tightened, I could feel the throbbing of my dick against his sucked-in cheeks, my ab muscles tightened, my fingers dug into the brick as I shot my load down that sweet throat of his. He stayed on his knees, not removing my dick from his throat, his tongue licking me clean. My attention now refocused elsewhere as my hand reached up to just above where he'd been stood, I retrieved what I wanted. My fingers reached down and wrenched his hair, his head springing back, forcing him to look up at me, baring his neck, the smile I gave him had no warmth in it at all. I brought down the knife I had picked up, slicing across the soft skin, I slipped my dick out of his mouth before it closed, the gargling sound he made as he gasped for air arousing me again. Blood squirted from the slash covering me, and as my fingers released his hair, I took a step back, and his body fell to the floor with a thud. I had to feed the demon I kept somehow.

[love-the-little-wonders]

Face to FaceTime

Summary: Tired of being isolated, Adrien reaches out to his friend in hopes of finding some comfort late at night. Adrinette <3

The sound of loud rumbling thunder fills the emptiness of his expansive bedroom. Adrien blows against his windowpane and draws a frowny face on the glass. Once again, his father confined Adrien to his room. He hasn’t seen his friends in what felt like forever. Normally, he’d use his isolation as a chance to escape as Chat Noir but with the storm raging outside, transforming was out of the question. Adrien looked to his small kwami friend and found him sleeping on top of a round of cheese.

Typical.

Adrien looked at the clock on his phone and it read 11:56 PM. He knew it was late but he decided to try to call Nino on FaceTime. Adrien stares at Nino’s smiling picture and it stares back at him as his phone rings and rings but Nino doesn’t answer.

Dejected, Adrien drags his feet as he shuffles towards his bed and with an ungraceful flop lays atop the blankets staring blankly at the ceiling. How many times has he looked up at this very ceiling and stared at the bleak nothingness that the white paint gives off?  Rolling over, Adrien looks over to his nightstand and sees his Marinette lucky charm. He grabs it and holds it over his head as he looks at it. Boy does he feel unlucky right about now. Rolling the bead between his fingers, an idea pops into his head. He recalls Alya berating Marinette on several occasions for staying up so late working on her designs. Maybe the designer is still up. It is Saturday night. Plus, after the events with Gorizilla a month back, they exchanged numbers and have texted on and off since. Staring at her contact picture, Adrien decides to call her. Pressing the FaceTime icon, Adrien waits for her to answer, the rings echoing loudly in his empty room.

The vibration of her phone wakes Marinette up from her impromptu nap at her sewing desk. Her hair is disheveled and she has scraps of fabric and loose thread stuck to her face. She answers the call without looking at who called her. She hears his voice before she can make out his face through her groggy eyes.

“Hey Marinette”

That woke her up. Marinette rubs away any leftover bleariness from her eyes and accidentally knocks her phone on the floor. She fumbles to get a firm grasp on it and promptly bumps her head on the underside of her desk.

“Ouuuch! A-Adrien calling me late ?! What are you calling at late- um I mean I mean it's uh kinda late aaand you're calling me?” She winced at her poor communication skills with her crush as she rubbed her head.

“Is it alright that I called you? I know it's kind of late…it's just my dad wouldn't let me leave the house again and with all of my photo shoots this week I missed school and I still had my extracurriculars. It feels like I haven't seen you guys in ages” His voice cracked from the emotion he was trying to suppress. “I really miss my friends and I miss hanging out with you, Nino, and Alya, y'know?”

This was a lot to process at 12 in the morning for a short-circuiting Marinette. Adrien Agreste considers her a close friend and specifically said he missed her. Well, her and his other friends, but still!! He called her! Marinette wanted nothing more than to freak out but she needed to keep it together for Adrien’s sake.

“ He’s feeling lonely and really needs a friend right now and that's what I’m gonna be,” she thinks to herself as she slaps her face between her palms, “ I can do this! ”

Adrien quirks an eyebrow at her antics but chalks it up to Marinette being Marinette.

“Y-yeah you can call me whenever you like! Just not like you know 4 in the morning or something or if I’m helping in the bakery or showering I won’t be able to answer…” Marinette’s eyes bugged once she realized what she just said. Embarrassment tinged her face and ears.

“Really?! That really means a lot to me, Marinette! Thanks!” He was relieved to know that he wasn’t bothering her and that she didn’t mind talking to him this late at night.

“You mean a lot to me” Marinette sighed.

“What was that?” Adrien asked.

“Oh uh um well I said...” Marinette was floundering. Did she just partly confess to her crush over FaceTime?! Should she hang up and pretend this never happened?

“ No!! Adrien called because he needs a friend! ” she reminded herself. With a deep breath, Marinette continued, “I said that you mean a lot to me. You’re my friend and it...it hurts to see you hurting”.

Adrien was taken aback by how sincere she was. Eyebrows knitted and mouth scrunched, Marinette looked like she had fire in her eyes. Her expression was oddly reminiscent of his partner against crime.

“But really, if you ever need a shoulder to lean on or if you need to vent, I’m all ears.”

“I’m all yours too if you want me to be,” Marinette thought to herself.

Adrien couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such amazing friends, especially a friend like Marinette. It made him happy to think about that but it also pained him even more because he wanted nothing more than to be able to spend as much time with them as possible.

Adrien sniffled and fought back the urge to cry in front of his friend. He shifted his position on his bed from sitting up against his headboard to rolling onto his stomach and propping his chin on his pillow and put his phone against his headboard. Hopefully, the pressure of the pillow could be enough to keep the tears at bay.

Marinette could tell that Adrien was hurting and suppressing his emotions just because he was talking to her wasn’t healthy. Softly she suggested, “you can cry if you want Adrien. It's ok. Everyone needs to cry every now and again and afterward, you’ll feel much better. I know I do.”

He really has been feeling miserable lately. Yeah, it sucked that he’s been seeing his friends less and has had a more rigid schedule than usual but what hurt the most was that right when it seemed like he and his dad had gotten closer, his dad decided to put even more distance between himself and Adrien. They had watched his mother’s movie together and it felt like he had a dad again. But that didn’t last long at all. His dad pulled away and put even more distance between them leaving Adrien feeling more alone and isolated than before. He missed his mom. He missed having a dad who cared even if he didn’t show it that well.

Adrien’s breath shuddered as he inhaled as he began to cry. Face down in his pillow he cried away his feelings of helplessness and loneliness. He didn’t call Marinette just so she could watch him cry but like she said, he really needed this.

While Adrien had his cathartic release, Marinette was overcome with guilt. ‘Oh no! I made Adrien cry!!! How could I be so cruel?!” Marinette thought as she dragged her hands over her face. Biting her nails, she grabbed her phone and quietly made her way from her sewing station up to her loft and into her bed. Sparing a glance to the little bed that she made for Tikki, Marinette checked to see if the little kwami was asleep or not. Marinette couldn’t seek the kwami’s advice while she was FaceTiming with Adrien but having her near was calming. Tikki was in fact fast asleep. Marinette sighed. She was just gonna have to navigate this new situation by herself.  Marinette nestled under her covers and set her phone against her kitty body pillow. A few minutes later, Adrien’s tears began to subside and his breathing became more regulated.

“Feeling better now?” Marinette asked. The whole time he was crying, Marinette wished that she could be with him in person and hold him. The thought made her face heat up but she really did wish that she could be there instead of on the other end of a phone.

With one last sniffle, Arien replied with a slightly raspy voice, “y-yeah”

“Hey, Adrien?” Marinette asked as she nervously bit her lip.

“Yes?”

“What do you get when you cross a lemon and a cat?” She asked as she looked down at her lap.

“Um, what?”

“A sour puss” Marinette had to admit that it was a pretty lame joke but she came up with on the spot so…

Adrien gave her a small smile as he chuckled softly.

“What do you call a cat that lives in an igloo?” Marinette asked with a smirk.

“What?”

“An eskimew” Marinette could honestly say that she was proud of herself for coming up with these jokes. It seemed like her kitty was rubbing off on her. Maybe that explained why she was only coming up with cat-related jokes.

At that, Adrien let out a louder laugh than before. “That was pretty cute.”

Marinette blushed and smiled to herself. She was happy that she could make Adrien smile.

“Can I tell a joke?” Adrien asked propping himself up on his elbows and he hugged his pillow.

“Sure”

“What’s a cat’s favorite way of keeping law & order?”

Marinette had a feeling that whatever Adrien was going to say, Chat would love it and eat it up.

“What?”

“Claw Enforcement”

Marinette was right. She grinned from ear to ear as she laughed thinking about how much of a field day Chat would have if he heard Ladybug say that joke.

“D-do you want to hear another one?” Marinette asked.

“I’d love to”

“Okay, I’ve got a good one.”

As Ladybug, Marinette pretended to be exasperated with her partner when he punned but she actually enjoyed them. She just didn’t tell him because he didn’t need another reason to have his ego fanned.

“How do cats end their fights?”

“How?”

“They hiss and make up,” Marinette said with a pleased smirk on her face as she mimicked a cat swiping their paw as she hissed and then made a kissy face. Who doesn’t like a good cheesy joke every once in a while? She wasn’t a stick in the mud.

Adrien seemed to really like that joke because he laughed so hard that he rolled out of bed. How that happened, Marinette had no clue. She was supposed to be the clumsy one. Adrien righted himself on the bed and thought to himself that he was in a much better mood than he was an hour ago.

Looking out his window, he noticed that the thunderstorm had blown itself out and was now a soothing sprinkle.

“I didn’t know that you were so well versed in the art of cat jokes, Marinette,” Adrien said with a relaxed expression. Gone was the storm that raged outside as well as within Adrien.

Marinette let out a small laugh “What can I say, I have a friend who likes to tell me cat jokes constantly and I guess they’ve rubbed off on me.”

Adrien wondered who this friend might be. He’d love to meet them and exchange notes.

They talked some more for another half hour. Marinette filled him in on the ongoings at school that he missed while he’s been gone. Max had brought Markov in again and had it play a game of basketball against Kim and the robot and boy had surprisingly tied, Alix debuted her graffiti art series at school in the main quad, and Rose and Juleka announced that Kitty Section would be performing for the upcoming open house. Adrien wished that he could have been there in person but it was nice to hear Marinette talk and fill him in. He told her about his latest modeling shoots and what his father’s new line was going to be like. At that, Marinette perked up and grabbed a nearby journal to take notes on what to expect. Adrien even mentioned that they would finally be debuting the bowler hat that Marinette designed and Marinette let out a sound of delight.

“Hey, Marinette?”

“Hmm?” Marinette looked up from her notebook to look at the blonde boy.

“Can we do this more often?”

“This? As in talk more?” Marinette asked as her heart skipping several beats.

“Well, that too. I like talking to you. I’m happy we’ve grown closer over the past few months. But I mean if I can’t make it to school or hang out with friends, that you’ll fill me in on what I missed?” Adrien asked with a sad smile.

Marinette really felt for this poor boy. How could his father be this overbearing to keep his only son basically a prisoner and keep him from things that brought him joy? She wished that she could do more but for now this would have to do.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll do my best” Marinette let him know with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, I can do you one better. I can FaceTime you while hanging out with friends or at school or something if you're not there if you’re not busy” Marinette suggested.

“That’s a great idea, Mari!!” Adrien exclaimed as he pumped his fists in the air. “You’re the best!”

Marinette gave him a smile as her stomach filled with butterflies.

“I’m happy I can help,” she says as she stifles a yawn. She glances at her clock on her nightstand and read the glowing numbers 1:40 AM.

Adrien noticed her yawn and also took a glance at the time.

“Woah, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. It’s a good thing tomorrow is Sunday” he said as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes fighting back a yawn of his own.

“Thank you, Mari, for answering my call. I’m so lucky to have you as a friend” Adrien said as he gave her a heart-stopping smile. Marinette’s cheeks turned pink and she could feel them warm.

“You’re welcome, Adrien. I’m here for you anytime day or night.”

“I guess I’ll let you sleep now. Good night Marinette.”

“Good night, Adrien.”

They both stared at each other for another 20 seconds not wanting to be the first to end the call. Realizing that neither one was gonna do it, they both laughed. With another good night, Adrien reluctantly ended the call.  Adrien plugged in his phone to charge and snuggled into his blankets. Closing his eyes, he drifted off to sleep after a few minutes.

Clutching her phone to her chest, Marinette laid awake in bed for another half hour heart still hammering thinking about what she had just done. She talked on the phone and FaceTimed with Adrien ( ADRIEN!!!)  for almost two hours and barely stuttered.

“Alya’s gonna freak when she finds out,” Marinette thinks to herself.  The sound of rain taps out a rhythm against her skylight and Marinette finds herself slowly drifting off to sleep phone still clutched to her chest.

The next morning Adrien was awakened by Nathalie at 7 AM. Despite only getting 5 hours of sleep, Adrien felt completely rested. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this rested. Even though it may mean that Adrien missed out on something yet again, he looked forward to his FaceTime calls with Marinette.

[chocolatebuttonsandbooks]

Reunion

For day 7 of @freezerburn-week here is a quite long piece that, as always, is an AU again. I have it saved as the airport AU on my laptop but it’s basically a world like ours. Starts off kind of sad but I promise it gets fluffier near the end! Yang hates saying goodbye.

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption.

Pairing: Freezerburn

3285 words.

This was how it always was for Yang at airports.

People who were a part of her life always left her.

Yang would stand, trembling, as she waved goodbye with a smile on her face until they turned away from her.

Her mom had left her more than once.

Uncle Qrow left, but he did come back. Sometimes.

Even Ruby left last year. Of course, Yang wanted her to go to a great University and be the genius she was but Yang couldn’t help feeling as if she was the only one stuck in the past. As if she was the only one not to move on to better things.

Now Yang faced Weiss and swallowed the lump in her throat.

“So… I guess I won’t see you for a while.” Yang cursed her inability to say something important, say something meaningful, to say how she felt.

“No. Probably not.” Weiss’ gaze was on the floor. “We can call each other and video chat though.”

Weiss looked up and Yang felt her body tense. There was a sharp pain in her stomach. So many words were close to slipping out of her mouth but she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Bye, Weiss.”

“Goodbye, Yang.”

“Good luck over there.” Yang opened her arms for a hug and, much to her relief, Weiss stepped into the embrace. “You’ll have to let me know if anyone gives you any trouble and I’ll sort them out.” Yang rested her head against soft, white hair and held Weiss tight.

“I can handle myself, you know that.” Weiss let out a laugh and pulled back to look into Yang’s eyes.

“Give ‘em hell, princess.”

“I will.”

Yang returned Weiss’ smile but she couldn’t make it reach her eyes.

All she could do was watch as the woman she loved walked away.

Blake was sat in the corner of the coffee shop when Yang stumbled in, out of the cold, and made her way over.

“It’s good to see you again Blakey.”

“It’s nice to be back, Yang.” Blake treated her with a rare smile.

“How long are ya sticking around for?” Yang asked, as she flung herself into the leather armchair.

“A couple of weeks. I’m doing some book signings actually.” Blake took a sip of her tea.

“Oooh, very nice.” Yang laughed and wiggled her eyebrows at her long-time friend.

“Thanks.” Blake’s eyes lost their playfulness as she put her cup down. “How are you holding up?”

“Holding up? Oh, you mean with… with uh Weiss leaving?”

“Yes. You’ve clearly been in love with her since senior year.”

Yang felt her face grow warm. “Sophomore year,” she mumbled to correct Blake.

“And you still feel the same?”

“Yeah.” Yang sighed. “I couldn’t tell her. I almost did. I almost ran after her.” Yang wrung her hands together. “Blake, I swear when she walked away I could feel my heart breaking. I’m never going to get a chance to tell her now and it’s all ‘cause I was too much of a coward.”

“You sound like a character in one of my novels.”

“Heh. I’m sure I do. Part of me wishes I’d said something but it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway.”

“You know long distance relationships are a thing, Yang.”

“I know. I just. She’s gonna be asleep when I’m awake and she’s going to be busy and-”

“You’re making excuses.”

“I am.” Yang chewed her lip. “I was still scared I’d tell her how I felt and she’d look at me with disgust. What if she just doesn’t like me that way?”

“If you never tell her, you’ll never know.”

“Well I missed my chance now.”

Blake rolled her eyes. “It’s your choice.”

Yang smacked her laptop a few times until it began to cooperate and she finally saw a pitiful, grainy image of Weiss.

“Hey! I can see you now. I don’t know what was up with it,” Yang explained.

Weiss let out a laugh that crackled out of Yang’s speakers. “Maybe you shouldn’t abuse it so much.”

“Alright. I didn’t realise you were part of my laptop defence squad.”

“I’m the chairwoman.”

“You have time for that in your schedule?” Yang laughed. “What have you really been up to?”

“The usual. Attending important meetings, having posh dinners and trying my hardest to ignore Whitley.”

“So, he hasn’t grown out of his… phase yet?”

“No. I think he’s just like that.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yes, it is.” Weiss coughed. “How have you been?”

“Good. You know, nothing much changes here.”

Their conversation was less awkward after they got over the first few minutes. Yang still managed to make Weiss laugh and if she couldn’t tell Weiss was getting tired she wouldn’t have wanted to hang up.

“It’s got to be late for you now. You should probably go to bed,” Yang suggested.

Weiss sighed before glancing over at her clock. “It is nearly two A.M I suppose.”

“Goodnight, Weiss.”

“Goodnight, Yang.”

Yang was wiping the bar down during a particularly quiet shift when her phone started ringing. She saw the caller I.D and snuck into the staff breakroom to answer.

“Hey Rubes, I’m at work. Are you okay?”

“Oh sorry! I didn’t realise. I’m fine I just have some news.”

“News?”

“Are you sure you can talk now? I can call back later.” Ruby’s voice took up a guilty tone.

“It’s slow today, plus, you’ve got me interested now. What is it?”

“Okay. Well I know you’ve totally loved Weiss since we were at school-”

Yang let out an exasperated sigh. “Am I really that obvious?”

“Yang I’m pretty sure I’ve heard you sleep talking about letting her step on you.”

“I- well. That’s none of your business. Anyway, apart from embarrassing your only sister why else did you call me?”

“She’s sort of dating someone.”

“Who?”

“Weiss.”

“No. I got that. Who is she dating?” Yang’s hand was tightening around her phone.

“I don’t know some guy in Atlas. Her dad’s been inviting loads of people to balls and stuff.  Anyway, she’s young, and an heiress, and she’s not going to wait for you forever Yang.”

“I…” Yang felt like she’d been punched in the gut. “She’s never mentioned any of this to me.”

“I don’t think it’s that serious yet. Yang, don’t you see? You have to tell her how you feel.”

“Well she obviously isn’t interested in me. She must like this guy.”

Yang was sure Ruby growled down the handset at her. “Yang. Maybe she feels just like you but thinks that you don’t like her!”

“Thanks for telling me, Ruby. Look I’ve got to get back to work but I’ll call you later okay?”

“Okay Yang. Loveyoubye!”

Yang laughed at her sister’s speech. “Love you too.”

Yang hopped from one foot to the other. Not long until Weiss’ plane arrived.

And she was totally going to tell her the truth.

Yang held up the sign, that she had spent a sad amount of time designing, with Weiss’ name on it, as she scanned the crowd of arrivals.

She spotted white hair.

“Weiss! Over here!”

Blue eyes met hers.

“Yang!”

Weiss ran towards her and leaped into her arms. Yang inhaled that familiar apple scented shampoo and held Weiss in a crushing hug.

“I missed you so much,” Weiss said.

“I missed you too.” Yang let Weiss back onto solid ground. “I have something important to tell you.”

“Oh, me too.”

“You first, Miss Schnee.”

Weiss let out what could only be described as a giggle and Yang felt a fluttering in her stomach. “Well, I’ve sort of met someone. He’s with me if you want to meet him.”

“I- sure.” Yang’s head pounded at the news but she faked a smile. “So, you’re dating?”

“Yes. It’s nothing official yet but I thought since everyone’s back for the holidays I’d be able to introduce you all.”

“Great idea.” Yang knew she was going to have to master talking through gritted teeth if they were here for a while. “Where is the lucky fella?”

“Neptune? Come and say ‘hi’.” Weiss waved over a tall guy with blue hair.

Yang wasn’t particularly impressed.

“I’m Yang, nice to meet you.” She offered her hand and regarded his limp handshake as proof he was not worthy.

“Neptune Vasilias, at your service m’ilady.” Apparently, he was a flirter too.

“Great,” Yang drawled, “why don’t you grab the bags and I’ll take you both to the car.”

Neptune walked over to the baggage collection point, winking at a couple of female passengers on his way, and Weiss turned to her. “So… what do you think?”

“He seems… nice.”

“Oh.” Weiss’ face fell.

“I mean it. I’m sure it’ll be fun to get to know him.”

“Is it the blue hair?” Weiss ventured.

Yang smirked. “Maybe. Or how freakishly tall he is, like, what do they feed you over in Atlas? Although, I guess you missed out on the super growth food.”

“Hey!” Weiss slapped at her arm. “I may like tall people but I know I’m the perfect height.”

“How do you ever reach stuff on high up shelves?”

“I don’t need to when I can get others to do it for me.” Weiss took on a smug look.

“I let you out of my sight for a couple of months and you’re already letting this heiress stuff go to your head.”

“Good thing I’m back now then.”

Yang smiled, genuinely, and enjoyed Weiss’ return gesture until Neptune hobbled over and dropped a suitcase on her foot.

“Sorry! They’re a bit heavy.”

“Don’t worry about it, pal.” Yang rolled her eyes and grabbed the majority of the bags off the trolley before leading the way out of the airport.

“So… what’s he like?” Ruby threw even more tinsel at the already covered Christmas tree.

“He’s stupidly tall, has blue hair that looks stupid, and he has stupid noodle arms. Like, has the kid never heard of arm day? Not that he’s heard of leg day either…”

“Not all people are buff Yang.” Ruby held up her arm and showed off her biceps. “Not everyone can be as hardcore as us.”

“It must run in the family!” Tai burst into the living room with his arms flexed.

“You guys are cute but we all know I’ve got the best arms.” Yang smirked at them.

“I’m gonna let you have this round ‘cause I know how sad you are about your girlfriend dating some guy,” Tai relented as the doorbell sounded. “Also, she may or may not be at the door right now and I made cocoa for everyone so enjoy.”

“Thanks dad!” Ruby followed him back into the kitchen.

“I guess I’ll get it!” Yang yelled in their general direction as she made her way to the door.

Of course, it was Weiss stood there in an adorable pea coat.

“Hey.” Weiss’ voice was muffled by the thick blue scarf she wore.

“Hey. Do you want to come in?”

“Yang, are we okay?” Her eyebrows were furrowed together as she looked up at Yang.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“You’ve just been acting a bit weird since I bought Neptune back and you keep being busy whenever I try to meet you. If I’ve done something to make you upset will you at least tell me what it is?”

“Weiss. You’ve done nothing wrong, and the last thing I wanna do is make you upset. I’ve been busy with work is all.”

“Okay. I can tell you don’t like him though.” Weiss shuffled her feet. “Can I ask you why?”

“You know me.” Yang shrugged. “I’m protective of those I care about. I don’t know him well enough to judge properly, and I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but I just get the feeling he isn’t as serious about you as he should be.”

Weiss’ eyes were wide in the porchlight. “I’m glad you were honest with me. Maybe you’re right.”

“You deserve someone who will commit to you and will be devoted, Weiss.”

“Well…” Weiss smiled at her, “let me know if you find that someone.”

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Do you wanna come in for some cocoa?”

“That sounds lovely.”

The frost of the winter was melting away when Yang next saw Weiss.

Another airport reunion.

“Welcome back!” Yang, Blake and Ruby spoke in unison as they fell into a group hug.

“The gang’s all here and it’s time to party!” Yang pumped her fist in the air. “So, Weiss, how are you feeling about being twenty-one? You looking forward to the party?”

“It can’t be any worse than last year.”

Yang’s face turned serious. “We don’t talk about that.”

“Anyway,” Blake cut in, “who’s invited?”

“Oh, you know, the usual lot.” Yang waved her hand around.

“Did you invite Jaune?” Weiss asked.

“Uh, Yeah.”

“Ugh. That guy was always obsessed with me at school.”

“He’s not the only one,” Blake muttered to Ruby, who began giggling until Yang shot them a glare.

“What did you say, Blake?” Weiss questioned.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Let’s get moving, shall we?” Yang helped Weiss with her bags.

The party was, and Yang never used the term lightly, “Bangin’”, as she told her sister.

“It is,” Ruby replied. “Maybe you should call it quits on the cocktails though.”

“Why?” Yang wobbled as she carefully placed her Strawberry Sunrise back on the bar, only spilling about a quarter of its contents in the process.

“You just need to be able to dance, Yang!” Ruby shouted over the music.

“I got my moves, sis. No need to worry.”

“Yang that’s a lunge.”

“Just stretching.”

“Weiss should be the most drunk on her birthday don’t you think?”

“Now that I can agree with.” Yang completed another stretch. “Where’s she gone?”

“I don’t know but there’s Neptune.” Ruby pointed across the dancefloor.

“Aha! My nemesis.” Yang cracked her knuckles.

“Uh oh. Maybe we should go find Weiss?”

“No!” Yang straightened up and started towards the noodle boy. “I must challenge him.”

“No fighting. Yang. Please! Him and Weiss aren’t even a thing anymore.” Ruby followed her and grabbed onto her arm but Yang dragged her along.

“Blue hair!”

Neptune looked their way and frowned at the sight of Ruby hanging off Yang’s arm. “Yang?”

“Yes. It is I.” Yang drew herself up to her tallest. “I challenge you to a dance battle!”

Neptune’s eyes shifted left and right, and his forehead was shiny with perspiration. “I’m not sure I feel like it right now I uh I-”

“No excuses. Only you, me and the glorious art of dance.” Yang turned to take in the spectators that dragging a teenager across a dancefloor and yelling at someone tended to garner. “Ren- you can judge us.”

He solemnly nodded to accept the title of dance battle judge and they commenced.

Yang was still high on the adrenaline of her victory, despite it being an easy one, when she swaggered over to Weiss. The boy couldn’t dance. Nonetheless, a victory was a victory.

Yang leaned an elbow on the bar. “Well hello there. Can I buy you a drink?”

Weiss mirrored Yang’s posture. “What’s a bar like you doing in a pretty girl like this?

“What.”

“You’re pretty. I will have that drink now.”

“Oh.” Yang’s face felt warm. “What do you want?”

“I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

“Guys!” Ruby rushed over to them. “Why don’t we go outside for a bit- there’s going to be fireworks.”

“But we were about to get drinks,” Yang protested.

“Fireworks,” Ruby replied more forcefully as she took hold of them both.

“Alright.” Yang let herself be led outside.

There was a paved area that was designated as a ‘beer garden’ that many party-goers had gathered in to enjoy the firework show.

Ruby disappeared and Yang turned to Weiss. She was shivering in the cold, her breaths visibly leaving her mouth and her cheeks and nose were tinged with red.

“Weiss, I was thinking we should walk home after these fireworks. You can stay at mine.”

“Great idea, hotshot.”

Yang laughed. “You haven’t called me that since we were kids.”

“You’re still saved in my phone as that.”

“Good.”

“Hey, Yang.” The blonde boy, who seemed to have no buttons on his shirt and was friends with Neptune, approached them.

“What is it, friend of the enemy?”

“Huh?”

“What’s up… brah?”

“Nothing much, dude. Just wanted to let you know how cool this party is and to give you another beer.”

“Ah. I like you.” Yang gave him a high five and took another can.

Yang cracked her eyes open and became aware of just how fast the world was moving.

“Shit…” Her head felt like it was going to split in two.

She opened her eyes again and was grateful that her past-self had thought to leave a glass of water on her bedside table. She gingerly propped herself up against the pillows and sipped the water whilst trying to remember all that had happened last night.

“Uuughhh.” A groan, muffled by the covers, caught Yang’s attention. White hair, that was impossibly messy, appeared next to her. “Yang?”

“Uh. Good morning?”

“I feel like I’m dying,” Weiss croaked out.

“Same.” Yang sighed. “Have some water. Oh, and Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” Weiss sat up and Yang suppressed a laugh at her messed up hair, smudged lipstick and the large band T-shirt Yang must have lent her. She still looked beautiful.

“You’re looking good.”

“Don’t tease me.”

Yang swallowed. “I’m not.”

Weiss froze with the glass halfway to her lips. “Oh.”

Yang put her hands in her lap and focused her gaze on them. “I wish we weren’t so hungover for this but since I got you in my bed anyway… Weiss.”

“Yes?” Weiss finished her gulp of water and placed the glass on the stand.

“I love you.” Yang watched sky blue eyes widen but she wasn’t finished yet. “I’ve loved you since we were at school together, and waking up this morning has made me realise that waking up next to you is a privilege I’d like to repeat.”

“Yang…” Weiss’ eyes went from wide shock to something akin to anger. “Why did it take you so long?!”

“What?” Yang’s head shot up. “You could have at least given me a clue.”

“I’ve hardly been subtle.” Weiss sighed. “When we left school, I thought I must have gotten the wrong signs off you. You always seemed so confident I was convinced that if you liked me you would have made your move.”

“I can’t believe we’re managing to sort-of argue about this.” Yang rolled her eyes.

“Well I can’t believe I spent the last few years thinking I was losing my touch. I genuinely thought the only person I was interested in was impervious to my charms. I-” Weiss was cut off by Yang’s lips and all the nervous energy that had been between them for so long was thrown into it.

Yang pulled away when she felt her head spin. “I can’t tell if I feel dizzy ‘cause of kissing you or if it’s my hangover.”

“I have that effect on people.” Weiss smirked at her until they burst into a fit of giggles.

“You know the best cure for a hangover?”

“To stay hydrated,” Weiss answered immediately.

“Well yeah but also cuddles.” Yang shifted closer to the middle of her bed and held up her arm.

“I’ll have to test your theory out.” Weiss beamed up at her then nestled underneath Yang’s arm, against her side. “I think this is officially the best birthday ever. Oh, and Yang?”

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

[daisiesanddanganronpaimagines]

Can I get uhhhhhhh The Warriors of Hope with an older sibling (how original, I know :3) that actually cares about them - maybe a little bit of angst thrown in there, I dunno. Whatever you feel best about doing!

Of course, dear!

I really tried on this one - and Kotoko’s is quite a bit longer than I originally intended it to be. 

But, I hope you like it!

Thank you for the ask!

Trigger Warning: Mentions of/Scenes with Physical and Mental Abuse, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of cutting, Suicidal Thoughts, and what could be seen as an anxiety attack ahead!

Masaru Daimon: 

He’d just been sitting in the living room with his father. 

His older sibling was out at the store, and he was waiting on them to come back. 

They were the only person at home that he really had, and he wanted to talk to them about school and what they did today. 

He’d gotten a certificate because he was the best in his gym class!

His older sibling would be proud of him, he knew, so he waited, containing the excitement and risking a glance at his father. 

That was a mistake. 

He’d caught Masaru looking, and looked back at him. 

“What’re you staring at, huh?” 

Masaru simply kept quiet and stared at his hands, which were firmly planted on his knees. 

“Fucking idiot, answer me!” 

He winced. “N-nothing sir.” 

“Oh, yeah? I think you’re fuckin’ lying to me!” 

“N-no I swear I wasn’t-!” 

He doesn’t get to say anymore, as he’s struck again and again. 

Eventually, when he’s been kicked in the stomach enough to cough up blood and covered in cuts and bruises, he collapses on the floor. 

His father scoffs and stumbles from the room. 

Sometime later, he hears his older sibling scream, and someone’s shaking him. 

He wakes up, only to see them hovering worriedly above him, eyes wide with fear. 

Tear tracks stain their cheeks. 

Slowly, he sits up, and is pulled into a bone crushing hug. 

It’s only then that he notices that the tear tracks were a lot more. They were in hysterics.

“Oh god…I thought…I thought…” 

“I’m alright…” 

“It was him again, wasn’t it?” 

Masaru nodded sadly. 

“I’m sorry, love.” Their hug loosens, but he stays there as they pet his head. “We’ll get out of here soon.” 

He savors the feeling. 

“Soon?” 

“Soon. As soon as I have what I need, we’ll go somewhere far away where he’ll never reach us.” 

Masaru smiles for the first time since coming home from school that day and nods. “Yeah! And then we can have your awesome cooking every day!” 

They laugh and stroke his hair for another moment, before releasing him and getting to their feet. 

“Come on. Let’s get you patched up.” 

They extend a hand, and he takes it eagerly, fighting the protest in his system. 

All that matters is that he has his older sibling. 

If they say that it’ll be okay, then it’ll be okay! 

They’d never lied to him! 

So why start now? 

Jataro Kemuri: 

It had been yet another morning with their mom. 

A sigh, because why wasn’t he dead yet? 

An even larger sigh as their older sibling exits their room and sits in the kitchen.

Shouldn’t they be dead, too? 

Even through their long sleeves, Jataro could practically see the bandages on their arm. 

The cuts on their skin. 

He adjusts his mask and eats his breakfast in silence. 

“God, could you two eat any slower? You already burden me enough with being here, and now you’re taking so long to eat? Disgusting.” 

Their muscles go taut, but he just bows his head. 

“Mother, if you’re going to use someone as a verbal punching bag, let it be me. Jataro’s done nothing to you.” 

“He’s here, isn’t he?” 

Their voice tightens, but it retains the same bored tone that they’d had when first speaking. 

“He’s already suffered enough by your hand. Leave him be.” 

Under the table, Jataro’s hand grips theirs. 

Their mother scoffs and walks from the room. 

“Useless.” 

Their lips tighten, but they make sure her footsteps have faded into nothing before they speak. 

“Is she forcing you to wear that again?” 

Jataro nods, and their sibling scoffs. 

“Bitch. You’re a gorgeous kid. I’d bet she’s just jealous that you look cuter than she does.” 

Despite himself, he giggles.

Their older sibling smirks at the laugh, but doesn’t say anything else. 

They eat breakfast like that. 

Hand in hand.

Kotoko Utsugi: 

Their older sibling had noticed that Kotoko was…off lately.

Looking back on it now, they should have noticed sooner. 

For a while, their parents had been constantly at work. 

They’d been doing the same, constantly working when they weren’t at school.

So had her older sibling. 

They worked 2 jobs other than modelling, and were saving up to try and get an apartment. 

They had already bought one - and their income was steady. All they needed to do now was get the moving truck and Kotoko’s schooling in order, and they could go. 

They were old enough to move away with Kotoko. 

They had long since wanted to take Kotoko out of the shit hole they lived in. 

They’re having a family meeting in the kitchen one day, and Kotoko is silent, with her head bowed as they talk about bills.

Kotoko’s older sibling slams the bills down on the table. 

“Listen, I don’t care how ‘gentle’ you think you are with-” 

They’re abruptly cut off by themselves, looking over at Kotoko as she begins to shake violently.

“Koto…?” 

She quickly dissolves into a sobbing mess, and their father lets out a small scoff. 

The older sibling rounds on them. 

“What the hell did you do?!” 

“Simple. We sold her body for money. ‘Gentle’ seems to be her ‘trigger word.’ If they say that, she’ll be helpless to do anything.” 

They take a moment to process that. 

Selling…her body…?

How long had this been going on? 

Before they can think about it, they’re across the table that they had been sitting on the opposite side of and were punching any surface of their father that they could reach. 

Skin broke, and bruised, but they weren’t done. 

It wasn’t until their father was screaming in pain that they stopped. 

Without mercy, they spit on him and turned to their mother. 

“Change her back, now. It’s your turn next. I know you’ve been doing most of the shit to her - this pathetic pile of shit on the floor couldn’t even if he wanted to.” 

Their mother calmly turned to her and simply said; “Kotoko. No one is going to be gentle with you.” 

Kotoko stared at her with wide eyes, but her shaking slowly stopped. 

Before Kotoko’s older sibling could stop themselves, they had slapped their mother across the face. 

That was all they could do at the moment, shutting their eyes tightly. 

“You are so fucking lucky that you’re a woman. So, so fucking lucky.” 

They smiled in satisfaction at seeing her face flicker with fear for a moment. 

“If you ever come near Kotoko again with anything - you won’t be so lucky.” 

They turned on their heel, going to the sink and washing their hands off. 

Kotoko’s mother was still staring at them. 

“Get out of my sight. And take that piece of shit with you too.” 

Her mother’s eyes began to water, and she sniffled. Kotoko got up. 

“Hey! Don’t make mama cry!” 

S/O looked at their little sister with a hurt expression. 

“Kotoko, sweetie, sit down, okay? Momma’s not gonna cry. See? She went into the other room with dad.” 

Kotoko sat down. 

Quietly, the older of the siblings made them both some hot chocolate and got some cookies from the fridge. 

They took out their phone and opened a recording app, pressing play. 

Kotoko began to munch on her cookies, but the older sibling cleared their throat. 

“Koto….can you tell me what’s been happening at your shoots?” 

Kotoko shook her head. 

“If you can tell me, then I’ll be able to get you out of here, okay? We can go far away and you won’t have to deal with those shoots anymore. Plus, you can have all of the cookies you want!” 

Kotoko looked at her older sibling hesitantly. 

“Are you sure…? Momma said if I told then…it would get really bad….a-and she would start crying!” 

“Momma won’t hear a peep. Just please, tell me Koto. I can make it all stop, and you can just be a kid again.” 

Kotoko hesitated for the slightest second, but nodded her head and launched into the story. 

Her older sibling was a crying mess by the end of it, and they came over to hug her. 

“Oh, honey. Oh, god. I’m so sorry. It’ll never happen again, okay?” 

Kotoko simply nodded, chest infused with the warmth of care. 

Their sibling sniffled. 

“Go upstairs to your room, okay? I have a bunch of boxes picked out for you. I need you to pack all of your stuff in there, okay?” 

“Are we moving?” 

They nodded. “Yeah. Tomorrow’s gonna be your last day at Hope’s Peak.” 

Kotoko simply nodded slowly and went upstairs. 

Their sibling spent the rest of the night packing, running on energy drinks. 

The next day, the siblings moved out. 

Nagisa Shingetsu: 

It was yet another long night of studying. 

He scanned the pages of the textbooks again and again, distantly wondering if he’d end up committing them to memory. 

It was a foolish thought. 

Of course he would. 

For most of his life now, he’d been subjected to the endless studying and sleepless nights. 

He wanted out of it. 

But the only way to do that was to die. 

“You’re a failure.” 

His lips tightened. 

The most recent cuts on his back burned, seeming as if they could begin to seep blood once more. 

He wanted to die. 

God, how he wanted to die. 

But…something stopped him at every chance he was blessed with. 

His older sibling. 

They’d long since been subjected to this treatment as well - but they were too old to continue the experiments. 

His father had long since deemed them useless and thrown them out, but they refused to leave Nagisa behind. 

Which, of course, ensued a custody battle. 

A wail cut through the air suddenly, and he could see the cameras cutting out.

They’d slipped in through the window then, bringing with them a greasy bag of fast food. 

It might not have seemed like much to anyone else, but to Nagisa, it was heaven. 

They smiled sadly at him, sat on his bed. 

He turned to them. “How is it going?” 

They gave him a smile. 

“Just a little longer, little bro. We’ve built up our case. Now, we’re just getting ready to take them to court. It’ll all be over soon, kay?”

He nodded, handing his garbage back to them. 

They ruffled his hair. 

“Just a bit more studying, okay? You’ve got this, no matter what he says.”

He nodded again, and they kissed his forehead. 

And then they were gone - and he resumed his position and studying.

Just a little more, he told himself. 

Just a little more. 

Monaca Towa: 

Her older sibling had always been there. 

Even as her mother left. 

Even as her family looked at her with such disdain. 

They were there, raising her from the day she was born. 

She grew attached to them, and they played more of a parenting role in her life than her own parents did. 

She was protected by any and all abuse she suffered by the rest of her family, too. 

“Now, now. Dear father, would you like your company to crumble? Because if word got out that you’d hurt poor, helpless Monaca - then your company would surely crumble. And I’d fall away with it. You wouldn’t want that, now would you? I am one of your most valuable assets to the company after all. That useless Haiji couldn’t do a thing to stop me from tearing down this company.

When she pretended to be paraplegic, S/O simply said nothing. 

She was thrilled to have them around, and they were thrilled to have her. 

The two depended on each other. 

It was them against the world, after all. 

[captainswanluver]

CS FF: Donut I Know You?

Summary:  Officer Rogers knows the stereotypes about cops and donuts all too well.  The fact that he detests the sweet treat is a constant source of teasing by his fellow officers.  But when a beautiful blonde woman who seems so familiar opens a donut shop across the street from the station, he finds himself visiting it everyday.

 Rating: G

 Note: So if Jen had stayed for season 7, I assume she would have ended up in Hyperion Heights with a cursed persona too.  As much as I wouldn’t have liked that she and Killian wouldn’t remember each other, I would have loved to see them meet and fall in love all over again.  So this is my take on that.  Oh and I know the title is super cheesy, but it fits and I think Colin would approve.  So if it’s good enough for Colin, then it’s good enough for me!  I hope you enjoy it!  ~Steph

...Donut I Know You? - Part 1/1...

Officer James Rogers stared out the window of the police station as the lights on the sign of the brand new donut shop flickered on for the first time.  

Truth be told, he hated donuts.  He loathed the artery clogging sweet treat.  They were either too greasy or too dry.  He also knew the stereotype about cops and donuts very well.  His fellow officers never missed an opportunity to tease him about his dislike for the confection.  He usually smiled and patted their little bellies, telling them the last thing they needed was to feed into the stereotype.  Now, with a donut shop right across the street, he was sure no work would get done and the entire force would soon have trouble fitting into their uniforms.

His partner, Officer Lou Johnson, came to stand beside him.  He had about 20 years and 30 pounds on him.  

“Today’s the day,” he said staring at the shop like it was a long lost lover.  

Rogers tapped his protruding belly.  “Mate, the last thing you need is more donuts.”

Johnson swatted him away.  “Hey, just because you’re the one cop, probably person, on the planet who doesn't like donuts, doesn't mean you need to ruin it for the rest of us.”

“Apologies if I’m more fond of my clear arteries and low cholesterol.”

Johnson slapped him on the back.  “Well, it doesn't change the fact that it’s your turn to get the donuts today.”

Rogers sighed.  Every Monday morning, the officers took turns buying two dozen donuts.  Normally, they went to a shop a few blocks away, but this was certainly more convenient.

“Better hurry up before a line starts forming.”

Rogers nodded and headed out the door.

…

He had to admit that the shop was nicely done.  The storefront was painted a rainbow of colors and a huge donut sat above a sign that read:  Heavenly Donuts

He pulled the door open and stepped inside, smiling at the decor.  The walls were painted a cheery yellow and the tables were done in bright pastels.  A huge glass case filled with every variety of donut you could imagine sat at the front.  Rogers approached the case, bending his head and perusing the flavors.

“How can I help you?” he heard come from in front of him.

Rogers lifted his head and met the gaze of the most stunning woman he had ever laid eyes on.  His breath caught in his chest for a moment and his heart began to pound as his eyes swept across her face.  And then his brow furrowed for a moment as he felt this overwhelming sense of familiarity.  Had they met before?

Her blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders as she leaned forward.  “Hey, are you okay?”

He nodded, their gazes locking and holding. “Aye.”

It was her turn to be rendered speechless as she got lost in his blue eyes and the same sweeping sense of familiarity.  

Her eyes narrowed at him.  “Have we met before?” she asked.  “You seem really familiar.”

In spite of himself, Rogers found himself shaking his head. “No, love, there's no chance I’d ever forget you.”

The woman blushed, a shy smile lighting up her face.  She extended her hand.  

“Well, in that case, let me introduce myself.  Elle Cygnus.  I’m the owner.”

Rogers slipped his hand into hers, his eyes widening as a spark seemed to ignite his entire arm.  Elle felt the same thing, but neither pulled away.

“James Rogers.” He hooked a thumb behind him.  “Seems we’re neighbors.”

Elle nodded with a smile at the police station.  “Ah, yes.  Well, it isn't a coincidence I chose to open up my shop right across the street from a police station.”

Rogers chuckled.  “Aye, I am well aware of the stereotype.”

Elle’s eyes flickered down his toned body appreciatively, his uniform accentuating it in all the right places.

“From the looks of it, you certainly don’t seem to indulge very often.”

Rogers opened his mouth to tell her he detested the sweet treats, but then thought better of it.  

“Well, as with anything, moderation is the key.”

Elle nodded.  “Words to live by.  So what can I get you?”

“Two dozen donuts.”

“Any kinds in particular?”

“A variety.  Surprise me.”

Elle smiled as she grabbed a box and began filling it.  She then moved to the register to ring him up.

“Lucky for you, we have a special police officer discount of 20% off.”

“That's very kind of you.”

“And smart,” she said with a laugh.

She gave him the total and he paid her as he picked up the box.  It was then that Elle noticed his gloved left hand and how stiff it seemed to be as he placed it beneath the box.  She assumed it must be a prosthetic and wondered how he had lost his hand.  It wasn’t everyday you met a one-handed police officer.

“It was nice meeting you, Officer Rogers,” she said.

He gave her a grin.  “The pleasure was all mine.”

Elle watched him leave and kept watching until he disappeared from view into the station.

…

The next day, Rogers found himself gravitating towards the donut shop before his shift.  It wasn't as if they sold any other pastry or even coffee.  It was only donuts.  And since he hated them and it wasn't his turn to buy them again for quite some time, he had no reason to go anywhere near it.  

He stopped in his tracks outside the shop's window, his eyes gravitating towards Elle.  She was smiling as she helped a customer and it made his heart race.  

Well, there was one reason to go into the shop and he was staring at her.  He’d had Elle on his mind all last night.  He couldn't shake the feeling that they had met before.  And he certainly couldn't deny the spark and instant connection he’d felt towards her.  

He found himself heading to the door and walking inside.  Elle’s head snapped up as soon as he entered, her smile widening at the sight of him.  She’d had a similar experience last night.  The handsome officer had occupied her every thought and she was hoping she'd see him again soon.

“Officer, so nice to see you again.”

“Well, I can't let that generous discount go to waste, now can I?”

Elle chuckled as he came to stand in front of the case.  As donuts go, he had to admit hers looked and smelled better than most.  They didn't look greasy or dry.

“One chocolate coconut,” he said.

Elle nodded, pulled the donut out of the case, and placed it in a bag. She rung him up and handed him the treat.

“Have a good day.  I hope to see you again soon.”

Rogers nodded, wanting to prolong their time together, but unable to think of how and he also knew he needed to get to the station to start his shift.

“Count on it, love,” he said with a grin and then exited the shop.

He walked across the street and into the station.  He found Johnson standing at the window, staring at the shop.

“Are you going to stand there for the rest of your life?” Rogers asked him.

He shook his head. “No, I was just wondering why a man who claims to detest donuts just visited a donut shop again.”

He handed the bag to Johnson.

“Here you go, mate.”

His brow furrowed. “You bought me a donut?  Why?”

Rogers shrugged. “Can’t an officer buy his partner a donut for no reason?”

“Not in my experience,” he replied.  Johnson looked back out the window, a smile slipping across his lips in realization.  “Ah, I get it now.  You wanted to see that beautiful blonde owner again.”

Rogers dropped his eyes and replied weakly. “That's bloody ridiculous.”

Rogers opened the bag, pulled the donut out, and took a huge bite.  “Whatever you say.”  He paused for a moment and then added with his mouth full. “Tomorrow, I’d like a jelly-filled one.”

Rogers opened his mouth to reply, but then snapped it shut.

…

Elle tapped her fingernails on the glass counter as she stared out the window, hoping to catch sight of him at any moment.  She glanced down at her watch and just as she did, she heard the door open.  She lifted her head and smiled at him, desperately trying to ignore the way her heart raced every time she saw him and how she seemed to feel a connection to him deep inside that she couldn't explain.

“I think you are quickly becoming my best customer,” she said.

He offered her a bright smile.  “Well, I do like to support small business owners.”

This time, Rogers was determined to prolong his visit.  He just needed a reason to stay a little longer.  He looked in the case and pointed.  

“One chocolate strawberry to go and one for here.”

Elle bagged one and placed another on a plate.  Rogers paid and then sat down at a table.  

“So how long have you been baking?” he asked.

Elle rounded the corner and, as there were no other customers at the moment, sat down across from him.  

“I’ve loved baking since I was kid, but I just kind of fell into the donut business.”

“And how did that happen?”

Elle shrugged. “I’m a single mother.  I have a seven year old daughter.  I would bake donuts for her birthday parties and school bake sales.”

Daughter, he thought.  Why did that word evoke such a feeling in him?

“And the other moms always said they were so good.  They started asking me to bake for their parties.  I worked in retail, so baking was always my escape when I came home after a long day.  I started charging a small fee and I did so well that I decided to start selling to local coffee shops.  They loved the donuts so much that I started to think that maybe I could have my own business.  So I saved for a long time and finally opened this place.”

Rogers nodded, smiling at her.  “Well, that is certainly a success story.”

She shrugged.  “We’ll see.  Most small businesses fail within the first year.  We’ve had a bit of a slow start.”  

“I have nothing but the utmost confidence in you, love,” he said.

Elle smiled and shook her head, feeling as if he'd said very similar words to her countless times before.  

His brow furrowed at her strange expression.  “Are you okay?”

Elle nodded. “Yeah, I just got this strange deja vu, like you’ve said something like that to me before.  Weird.”

Rogers bobbed his head, but, truth be told, he felt like he’d said similar encouraging words to her a thousand times before.  

Elle gestured to his untouched donut. “Aren't you going to eat your donut?”

Rogers glanced down at the forgotten treat. “Oh, I'm...uh...afraid it will have to wait until later.  I really must be going or I will be late for my shift.”

Elle nodded as they both stood.  “See you tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

He flashed her a grin, but didn't reply as he exited the shop.  He walked across the street and again found Johnson standing at the window.  He held out his hand expectantly and Rogers placed the bag in it.

“Jelly-filled as requested.”

He peered in the bag, his eyes lighting up at the sight of two donuts. “Wow, what did I do to deserve not one, but two donuts?”

Rogers didn't reply.

“Or maybe the second donut was just a ruse so you had an excuse to sit down and talk to the beautiful blonde owner.”

“Her name’s Elle,” he replied.  

But even as he said the name he couldn't shake the feeling that it didn't fit her.  He’d often had the same strange feeling about his own name.

“Elle,” Johnson said.  “And I’m guessing she doesn't realize you detest the very thing she is trying to make a living on.”

Rogers shook his head, as Johnson grinned.

“Of course she doesn't.  Then you'd have no excuse to visit her shop everyday, now would you?”

Rogers dropped his eyes to the ground, but again didn't reply.

…

Elle adjusted her hair in the glass of the display case, just as Rogers walked in.  

“Good morning, love,” he said.

She felt her heart to do a little flip in her chest at the way he said ‘love’ and she was certain she had experienced that feeling many times before.

“Good morning.  What can I get you today?”

Johnson had requested cream filled today.  He pointed.

“One Boston Creme please.”

As Elle bagged the donut, a blonde little girl of about seven came running out from behind the counter.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” she announced.  

Rogers found himself staring at the little girl and her sparkling blue eyes that seemed to match his.  He felt a wave of familiarly wash over him just as it had when he had met her mother.  

“Okay, you can have a donut for breakfast just this once.”

“Yay!” she cheered, as she stuck her head in the case and plucked a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles out.  

Rogers couldn't take his eyes off of her.  Elle noticed him watching her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.  This is my daughter, Avery.  Avery, this is Officer Rogers.”

The little girl looked at him, her nose wrinkling.  “Do I know you?  You look familiar.”

Rogers forced himself to shake his head. “No, just like your mother, I don't think I could ever forget you.”

Her eyes scanned him as she took a huge bite out of the donut.  “You’re a real cop?”

He nodded and flicked his badge.  “That I am.”

“Cool!”

“Have you ever shot anyone?” she asked through a mouthful of donut.

“Avery!” her mother scolded.  

Rogers laughed. “It's okay.  I get it all the time.  No, I’ve never shot anyone.”

Avery’s gaze moved to his prosthetic hand.  It was covered with a glove, but there was no mistaking it for a real hand.

Her eyebrows darted upward and she pointed to his left hand. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

Elle sighed.  “Avery, don’t be rude.”  She turned to Rogers.  “I’m sorry, she’s usually really shy around strangers, but she seems to be completely comfortable around you for some reason.  Too comfortable.”

Rogers shook his head. “Not to worry, love.  It’s a natural question.”  

He pulled his glove off and showed Avery his prosthetic hand.

“I lost my hand, so I have a fake one now.”

He could tell she wanted to ask what had happened to his hand, but resisted.

“Sorry about your hand,” she said softly.

“Thank you, love,” he replied with a smile.

She seemed to get distracted then and went back to eating her donut.

Elle shook her head.  “I’m sorry about that.  She has off from school today because of teacher professional development. I have an elderly neighbor who usually watches her for me, but she was sick today.  I feel bad making her spend her day off here.”

Rogers eyes sparkled with an idea.  “What if I said I could liven up her day a bit?”

“How?”

“A tour of the police station if it's okay with you.”

Avery jumped up and down.  “Yes, please, Mommy!”

Elle nodded. “Okay, but be good and be polite.”

“Can I ride in your police car and run the siren and lights?”

Rogers laughed and shook his head. “I’m afraid it's against department regulations to allow children on ride-alongs.  But I can allow you to sit in it and run the siren and lights.”

“Yay!”

Avery slipped her hand in his and Rogers felt that same spark sweep through his arm as when her mother had done the same.  It seemed so natural and familiar to hold her hand.  Elle smiled at the sight, feeling that same wave of familiarity, like she had seen them together like that a thousand times before.

…

They walked across the street and Rogers opened the passenger side door.

“Get in, love,” he said.

Avery climbed in, her eyes widening in awe.  “Wow!”

Rogers smiled as he climbed in the other side.  He started the car, but left it in park.  He pointed to a switch.

“This runs the siren.  Go ahead.”

She flicked it up and then grinned as the sound filled her ears.  He pointed to another switch.  “And this is for the lights.”

She pushed it up and the lights turned on.  Avery put the window down and stuck her head through it so she could see the lights.  “Wow!  So cool!”

Rogers grinned at her delight.  After a few moments, he turned the the lights, siren, and car off.  He helped her out of the car, smiling as she slipped her hand back in his.

From her shop, Elle watched them, a smile upon her face.  Avery was usually shy around strangers, but once she got to know you, there was no stopping her.  But it had been different with him.  It was like she had known him her whole life.  She had never seen her take to a stranger like that before.

…

They entered the station and came to stand in front of Officer Johnson.  

“Avery, this is my partner, Officer Johnson.”

“Nice to meet you, Avery,” he said shaking her hand.

She tilted her head and then stuck her finger out, poking him in his ample belly. “I bet you like my Mommy’s donuts.”

Johnson’s eyes widened, as Rogers stifled a laugh.  

“Out of the mouths of babes,” Rogers said.

Avery dropped her eyes. “Sorry, that was mean.  Mommy said be polite.”

Rogers nodded. “It’s okay, he happens to adore your mother’s donuts.  Come on, let's go.”

He then led her throughout the station.  “This is where you report a crime.   That over there is called the holding cell.”

“That’s where the bad guys go,” she said.

“That’s right.”

He showed her the briefing room and the interrogation room.  He then brought her to the booking room.  

“This is where we take the prisoner’s fingerprints and mugshot.”

Avery jumped up and down. “Can you take my fingerprints and mugshot?”

Rogers laughed.  “Of course.”

He took her fingerprints and let her keep the card.  Then he took her mugshot, complete with a gap toothed smile.  He handed her a Polaroid of her mugshot.

“I do believe you're the cutest prisoner we've ever had,” he said.

Avery laughed and placed her hand in his again.

…

“Mommy! Mommy!” Avery yelled, as she ran in the door, waving her picture and card.  “Look what I got!”

Elle came out from behind the counter.  “Wow, fingerprints and a mugshot.  So I’m guessing you had fun then?”

She nodded.  “Yes!”  She turned to Rogers. “Thank you, Officer Rogers!”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Okay, go in my office and work on your homework,” Elle said.

Avery ran off and Elle turned back to him. “Thank you.  I haven't seen her that excited in a long time.”

Rogers smiled and nodded. “She's a wonderful little girl.  You’ve done a great job with her.  I’m sure it hasn't been easy doing it alone.”

Elle shrugged. “No, but I’m used to it.  Her father has been out of the picture since before she was born.”

Even as Elle said the words they didn't feel true.  She often experienced moments like that when sharing parts of her life with someone.  It was as if she was telling a story.

Rogers shook his head, as he met her eyes and said softly. “Well, that is certainly his loss.”

As he said the word loss, he felt a pit grow in his stomach.  It’s the feeling that comes with missing something.  He’d had that feeling many times before, but could never explain it.  

Elle found herself getting lost in his eyes.  She swallowed hard and hooked a thumb behind her.  “I better get back to work.”

“As should I,” he said backpedaling toward the door.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, but this time it was a statement, not a question.

He grinned.  “See you tomorrow, love.”

…

Rogers paused for a moment outside the door, just watching her.  She was wiping the counter, her head bent, as her blonde hair swayed around her shoulders.  He could look at her all day and never tire of it.  He finally entered the shop and her head whipped up, a bright smile appearing on her face.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Morning, love,” he replied as he approached the counter.  “French cruller, please,” he said.

Elle pulled it out, bagged it, and then rung him up.

“Thank you again for yesterday,” she said, handing him the bag,  “Avery could talk of nothing else for the rest of the day.”

He smiled. “I’m glad I could brighten her day a bit.”

“You were so good with her and I can't get over how quickly she took to you.  Trust me, that never happens.”

“Well, she certainly made it easy.”

Elle paused for a moment and then looked at his hand.  “She asked me later what happened to your hand, but…”  Her voice trailed off.

“You haven't wanted to ask,” he finished for her.

“Yeah.”

He shrugged.  “I don't mind telling the story.”

And that is exactly what it had always felt like to him. A story.  Not a memory of a life event.  

Rogers sat down and Elle took a spot across from him.

“I was a rookie.  I was only on the job a month when my partner and I responded to a robbery in progress at a convenience store.  There was a man in a ski mask holding up the store.  Inside, there was a cashier and two customers.  An older male and a young woman in her early twenties.  My partner and I entered through the back door and we slowly came up behind him.  But he spotted us in a mirror above the register. He turned and shot at us before either of us could do anything.  The bullet hit my left hand and I dropped my gun.  Luckily, that was the distraction my partner needed to get a shot off and take him down.”

Elle’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”

“That it was.  It was from a shotgun and because it was close range, the bullet tore my hand to shreds.  There was no saving it.”

Elle reached out and covered his remaining hand with hers.  The spark swept through them again and Rogers felt like she had comforted him in that way many times before.

“Well, you certainly seem to have adjusted well and I’m glad you can still do your job.”

“Aye, there are certain accommodations that must be made, but I have adapted accordingly.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me.”  Elle smiled and stood.  “I better get back to work.”

He nodded and stood up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, love.”

“See you tomorrow, James,” she said.  

It was the first time she'd called him by his first name and as it slipped through her lips she just couldn't shake the feeling that it just wasn’t right.

…

Rogers handed Johnson the donut as he stood at his usual post.

“So when are you going to ask her out?”

“What?”

He nodded at the window. “The donut lady.  When are you going to ask her out?”

“Who says I want to ask her out?”

He patted his belly. “My stomach says so.  You’ve visited her everyday since she opened.”

“We’re just friends.”

“But you want more.”

“She has a lot on her plate with a new business and being a single mother.  I’m not sure the timing is right.”

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Through two windows and across a street.”

“I’m a great eyewitness.” He sighed and patted his belly. “Look, you need to ask her out and tell her the truth soon.  As much as I love a donut a day, pretty soon I won't be able to fit through the door.”

Rogers laughed, but didn't reply.  He wasn't sure how she would react to his little lie and ruse.  Would it make him seem like a creepy stalker?  He was afraid to find out.

…

Things continued on like that for weeks.  He would visit her shop everyday and they learned more and more about each other.  They couldn't shake that familiar feeling or the connection they felt.  

Rogers finally got up the nerve to come clean and then ask her out.  Today was the day.  But as he approached her shop, he could see something was wrong.  There was police tape across the door and several of his fellow officers inside.  His eyes widened in alarm as he ducked under the tape and frantically searched the shop for Elle.  He found her standing by a table speaking to an officer.

He practically sprinted over to her.  “Are you okay?  What the devil happened?”

She surprised him by throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.  

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she mumbled.

Rogers wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back soothingly.  She felt like she fit in his arms perfectly and again he was struck by how familiar and natural it felt between them.

She pulled back and he hesitantly lifted his hand to her cheek.  “What happened?” he repeated.

Elle swallowed hard.  “I didn't get a chance to make a deposit last night, so I was going to make one this morning before we opened.  Just as I was leaving the store, a man in a mask appeared.  He pulled a gun and demanded the money I was going to deposit. Then he made me empty the register and forced me to open the safe.”

“Are you okay?  Did he hurt you?” he asked, concern etched across his features.

Elle shook her head.  “I’m fine. When he made a move to put the money in a bag, I was able to grab my pepper spray out of my purse and sprayed him in the face.  I kneed him in the groin, he fell to the ground, and I tied his wrists with some bakery box string.  Then I ran across the street and reported it.”

Rogers smiled.  “Well, love, that's bloody impressive.”

Elle shrugged and grinned.  “I’ve taken self-defense classes before.  They sure came in handy today.”

Rogers eyes met hers and he stroked her cheek.  Elle sucked in a breath, feeling as if they’d experienced many moments just like this one.

“I’m glad you're okay,” he said softly.

“I’m glad the police are right across street. Quick response time.”

“This guy is either very brazen or very stupid to commit a crime with the police right across the street.”

“Let’s go with stupid.”

Rogers nodded.  His arms were still around her waist and he noticed she made no move to pull away.

“I’d say you should consider getting security cameras and an alarm system to hopefully deter any future thieves,” he advised.

“Okay, I’ll look into it.”

It was then that he remembered what he planned on doing that day.  He was going to come clean about his little lie and ask her out.  But as he stared into her eyes, he worried that she might take his harmless lie the wrong way.  Maybe she would think he was a creepy stalker.  But he wouldn't allow himself to be deterred from asking her out.  Things could have ended very differently today.  He could have lost her and he would have been filled with regrets.  He was done wasting time.

He licked at his lips nervously. “Will you go out with me?” he asked suddenly.

“What?” she asked, taken by surprise.

“I am well aware I have the worst bloody timing in the world, but that's what I came here to ask you today.  I’ve wanted to ask you out since the first day we met, Elle.  And I realized just now that life is too short and unpredictable to waste time.  So I-...”

“Yes,” she said, cutting him off with a smile

He cocked an eyebrow.  “Yes?”

She nodded.  “Yes, I will go out with you, Officer Rogers.”

He couldn't help the huge smile that swept across his face.

…

Rogers took a deep breath as he stood outside Elle’s apartment door.  He raised his hand to knock.  A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Avery.  She offered him a huge smile.

“Hi, Officer Rogers.  My mommy is almost ready.  She’s making herself extra pretty for you.”

Rogers smiled as he entered the apartment.  It was small, but comfortable.  It was simply decorated, yet still felt cozy.

An elderly woman sat on the couch.  “I’m Louise, Elle’s neighbor.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand.

Louise’s gaze washed over him from head to toe.  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Officer Rogers.  But I don’t think Elle did you justice.  She didn’t tell me she was dating a Greek god!”

Avery laughed and Rogers felt his face grow red, just as Elle walked in.

“Louise!” she scolded, her face turning its own shade of red.   

“Well, it’s true, hun.  He’s one fine looking specimen.”

Elle turned to Rogers.  “I’m sorry.  She has no filter.”

Rogers laughed.  “It’s okay.  I’m flattered.  Thank you, Louise.”  

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across Elle’s figure.  Her hair fell around her shoulders in waves and she was wearing a skin tight red dress.

She nearly rendered him speechless.  “You look...stunning,” he finally managed.  

There was a long moment where they both felt as if they were experiencing deja vu.  She smiled and gestured at him.  

“Thank you.  You clean up pretty good yourself,” she said, gesturing at his black leather jacket, navy button down shirt, and dark dress pants.

He had never owned a leather jacket before, but this one had caught his eye on the way home from work yesterday.  He just had to stop and get it.  

“I’m glad you approve, love.”

Elle walked over to Avery and placed a kiss on her head.  “Be good,” she said.

“Have fun, Mommy!  You too, Officer Rogers!”

They smiled at the little girl as they exited the apartment.

…

Rogers had made reservations at a restaurant by the water.  They made their way to the patio and sat down at a table overlooking the water.  The sun was just about to set and the view was breathtaking.

“It’s beautiful,” Elle said.

“Aye.  I’ve always felt very at peace on the water,” he replied.

She nodded with a smile.  “Me too.  There’s something calming about it.”

“I actually have a small motorboat.  Perhaps you and Avery could join me on the water one day.”

Elle’s eyes lit up. “She would love that.  So would I.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence then as they perused their menus.  Truth be told, they both hated dating.  It was always awkward and uncomfortable.  But somehow it was different with each other.  They ordered and the conversation flowed easily and naturally.

As they ate, Elle found herself staring at him.  He squirmed under her gaze.  “What is it, love?”

She shook her head and dropped her eyes to her plate. “Nothing.  It’s silly.”

Rogers reached out and touched her hand.  “I highly doubt that,” he said softly.  

Elle lifted her eyes and met his.  “It’s just...I’ve never felt so comfortable around someone before.  We’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I felt connected to you from the start.  I felt like you already knew me and I knew you.”  She paused, shaking her head and laughing nervously.  “I told you it was silly.”

Rogers shook his head.  “Not at all.  I feel the exact same way.  I have since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Elle smiled.  “You have?”

“Aye, love.”

“I guess it’s not so silly then,” she replied softly, as his gaze pierced hers.

Rogers swallowed roughly, as his hand remained over hers.  “Since we’re being honest, I have a confession to make.”

Elle’s eyes widened and she shook her head. She pulled her hand from beneath his and covered her face with it.  

“I knew it.  I knew you were too good to be true.  You help people for a living.  You’re kind, smart, funny, and gorgeous.  You’re great with my kid.  And I feel so connected to you.  You’re too perfect.  I just knew there had to be something wrong with you.  So what is it?  You’re married?  You’re a serial killer?  What?”

Rogers was taken aback by her reaction for a moment.  He finally chuckled and shook his head.  “Not to worry.  Nothing that scandalous, love,” he said.

“Well, what is it then?” she asked, breathing a sigh of relief.

He leaned toward her and whispered,  “I detest donuts.”

Elle’s mouth dropped open for a moment and then she burst out laughing.  “That’s your confession?”

“Aye,” he said with a nod and a grin.

“Oh, thank God!”  She paused and then eyed him.  “But if you hate donuts then why have you been coming into my shop everyday for weeks?”

Rogers cocked an eyebrow.  “Why do you think, love?”

Elle’s cheeks filled with red.  “Oh,” she said softly.

Rogers felt his heart drop into his stomach.  Maybe she did think he was some creepy stalker.

“I’m sorry I lied to you.  I hope you don’t believe me to be some creep who was stalking you.  I just wanted-...”

Elle reached out and covered his faux hand with hers.  “I don’t think that all.  I think it’s actually very sweet.”

He blew out a relieved breath.  “I’m glad to hear that.”

She tilted her head to the side.  “So where have all of these donuts been going then?”

He grinned.  “To my partner.  So when he has a bloody heart attack, you’ll be the one at fault.”

Elle laughed.  “Well, now that your little ruse has been revealed you can stop buying the donuts everyday.  You don’t need an excuse to come see me anymore.”

“That will certainly save me a great deal of money,” he replied with a chuckle.  

“Unfortunately for me, I just lost my best customer,” she said.  She paused and then added with a smile.  “But I think I gained something much better.”

Rogers smiled as he placed his hand over hers.

…

“I had a great time tonight,” Elle said as they stood outside her apartment door.  

“As did I,” he replied.

“Do you want to come in for some coffee?” she asked.  “And a donut.”

He laughed, trying to shake off the feeling that they’d done this little dance before.  “But I detest them, remember?”

“And why is that exactly?”

“Too greasy or dry,” he replied.  

“Ah, but you’ve never tried mine before.  Come on, I always bring a few home with me.”

Elle and Rogers entered the apartment.  Elle thanked Louise before she left and then checked on a sleeping Avery.   Rogers sat down at the kitchen counter, as Elle put on a pot of coffee.  She placed a chocolate donut down in front of him.

“Moment of truth,” she said, as she leaned on the counter towards him, her chin cradled in her hands.

He hesitantly picked up the donut and took a bite.  He chewed slowly as Elle watched him.  He finally swallowed and grinned at her.

“That’s bloody delicious!” he said.

Elle smiled brightly.  “See, you just had to have the right donut.”

“Made by the right person,” he added.

Elle came around the counter with the mugs of coffee and walked into the living room, as he followed her.  She placed them down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch.  Rogers took his place beside her.  

He turned to her, their eyes meeting.  He’d wanted to kiss her from the moment they first met.  And the look in her eyes told her she wanted the exact same thing.  He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek, as his lips slowly neared hers.  

“Hey, no fair!  I want a donut too!” Avery whined.

He and Elle pulled apart abruptly, their heads whipping in the direction of the little girl, who stood at the entrance to the living room.

“Avery, what are you doing up?” her mother asked.

“I smelled donuts,” she said.  

“It’s too late for donuts, sweetheart.”

“It’s not too late for you guys,” she countered.  

“You need to go back to sleep,” Elle said.

Avery walked over to the couch and squeezed herself in between them.   “I’m not tired.”

Elle sighed, as she sat back on the couch.  She looked at Rogers and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

But Rogers found he didn’t mind as the little girl snuggled in between them.  It wasn’t long before her lids grew heavy and she rested her head against his chest.  Elle smiled at the sweet sight they presented together.  Something inside of her said she’d seen this sight many times before.  Rogers lifted his arm and put it around both of them.  And as he did he had the feeling that he’d held these two beautiful ladies in his arms more times than he could count.  

He turned and met Elle’s eyes again.  She leaned towards him, over Avery, and this time she cupped his face, stroking his jaw with her thumb.  Slowly, he leaned closer to her, until he could smell her sweet perfume.  He searched her eyes for any sign of hesitation, but found none.  And then their lips met.  Her hand moved to cup the back of his head, pulling him in closer.

But as they kissed something unexpected happened.  A bright light exploded around them and images filled their minds.  Visions of them together with the little girl nestled between them.  Shocked, they abruptly pulled apart.  

They searched each other’s eyes for a long moment, before realization washed over them and tears suddenly filled them.

“Emma,” he whispered.

“Killian,” she breathed.  

“It’s you,” they said in unison.

Emma shook her head.  “I can’t believe this.  It explains so much.  Why I felt so connected to you.”

“Everything felt so familiar, love.  And so much of my life felt wrong.”

“Mine too.”

Emma cupped his face and kissed him again.  Then she leaned her forehead against his.  “I’m just so glad to have you back.”

He grinned. “Aye, as am I.  True love’s kiss must have broken the curse.”

Emma looked down at their sleeping daughter.  “Ava,” she called, brushing her hand against her cheek.

The little girl stirred, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her fists.  Then she looked up at her father and grinned.  “Daddy!”

Killian felt his heart soar, as he wrapped his arms around their little girl.  

Emma smiled.  “That’s why she was comfortable with you from the start.”

Killian placed a kiss on their daughter’s head and then slipped his hand in his wife’s.  “Now that we’re back together, nothing can stop us now.”

“Nothing is ever going to tear us apart again,” Emma said, as she squeezed her husband’s hand.

Ava looked up at both her parents.  “Now can I have a donut?”

They both burst out laughing, but nodded their heads.

...THE END...

Thanks for reading!  I hope you enjoyed it.  I’d love to know what you thought. ~Steph

[aion-rsa]

Exclusive Excerpt: Null Set by S.L. Huang

http://bit.ly/2IuDTzL

We return to the near-future world of mercenary Cas Russell in Null Set, S.L. Huang's follow-up to Zero Sum Game.

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Feature Kayti Burt

Tor Books

Apr 15, 2019

S.L. Huang

Cas Russell is back! Following the world-changing events of Zero Sum Game, the mathematically-minded mercenary is working to keep her city from erupting into violence in Null Set following the fall of the secret international organization of murderous telepaths known as Pithica.

We're excited to present the first two chapters from Null Set, which picks up roughly a year following the events of Zero Sum Game, and sees Cas continuing to reel from the personal revelations that came out of her encounter with Dawna Polk.

read more: An Interview with Author S.L. Huang

Null Set is out in July, but here is a sneak peek...

One

My name is Cas Russell.

            Except a little over a year ago, I found out it isn’t.

            That night a woman named Dawna Polk stood over me and melted my brain, filling it with scenes from a mislaid life, flashes of a past I’d forgotten to miss. She’d cracked the window into shredded fragments I’d only glimpsed in dreams, negative spaces where I’d never noticed the blank emptiness of what was gone. In the scattered time since then, I’d been shocked to discover that everyone else had memories of a coherent existence. Memories of being a child, of growing up. Of a life before becoming a supernaturally mathematical retrieval specialist who drank her way from one job to the next.

            Yeah. That would be me. Cas Russell.

            Right now, however, I was unfortunately not drunk. Right now I was crouched on top of a metal shipping container in the Port of Los Angeles with a high-powered rifle in my hands. Five people stared up at me from a rough semicircle on the ground, all clad in black to match the moonless night, and all more than ready to kill me if I took my eyes off them for the least split second. They were the first break we’d had in finding their shitstain of a boss, and I was going to make them tell me.

            Even if I had to do it without torturing them. Because torture would piss off the tall black man who’d decided to become my conscience, and who was currently forcing a sixth trafficker up alongside the rest with the business end of his Glock.

            “Okay?” I called to him.

            “Okay,” Arthur called back. He started roughly patting down his prisoner.

            “Here’s how it’s going to go,” I addressed our standoff. “The first one of you who tells me how to find Pourdry gets to live. The rest get to see how well their organs can withstand the hydrostatic shock of a .308 round. Clear?”

            “Fuck off,” snarled the guy whose hands Arthur was zip-tying, which was stupid, because I twitched the rifle over and pulled the trigger. The shot whizzed by and buried itself in the ground behind him, so close it grazed his neck. A dark line of blood welled up, and the guy froze.

            From less than a foot away, on the other side of him, Arthur glared at me. He didn’t like when I was cavalier with guns, even though he knew I could predict exactly where I would hit, probability one. Whatever had Swiss-cheesed my memory had left enough skill at instantaneous mathematics to hit a penny falling behind a wall from a mile away through a windy hailstorm.

            The dudes below me, however, did not know I breathed superhuman knowledge of velocities and forces. They only saw me fire a shot that would have killed a man if it had been an inch over—and all a foot from my own backup like a goddamned maniac.

            “Hey, that was lucky,” I said. “Next time my aim might not be so great.”

            Everyone stayed very still, except for Arthur, who finished securing the guy he’d brought over and moved on to the rest. His eyes kept flicking up to me with just a little irritation. Okay, more like a lot.

            I ignored him and very obviously adjusted my rifle to the next person in line. Quickly rising to the ignominious title of largest human trafficker on the West Coast, their boss was the scum of the earth, but somehow he inspired devoted allegiance in his rank and file. Which meant I had to make these people more afraid of me than they were loyal to Jacob Pourdry. “I’ll ask one more time, and then this gets violent,” I said. “Tell me where—”

            The back of the guy’s head shattered, and a rifle report rang out just as his body slumped to the ground.

            “Russell!” yelled Arthur.

            “Not me!”

            The other goons scattered and started clawing for weapons. A second one went down, jerking as if on a marionette string before he hit the dirt almost right next to Arthur. I tracked the kinematics of the trajectories back, measuring against speed of sound, the math blasting clarion in my head, and dove off the shipping container.

            I protected my rifle in a perfect shoulder roll to come up by Arthur’s side and grabbed the back of his leather jacket. “This way. We need cover!”

            One of the traffickers tried to track us with his sidearm as we ran. My rifle took him out before the sniper could. We dashed around the corner, out of their line of sight.

            But handgun rounds would punch right through the shipping containers like they were made of butter, let alone the rifle rounds the sniper was using. I sprinted through the maze, skidding into sharp turns and putting as many layers of 14-gauge steel as possible between us and anyone with a gun. Arthur followed without question. He knew to trust my math.

            I slapped at my earpiece as we ran. “Pilar! Surveillance, now!”

            “On it,” chirped a perpetually cheerful voice in my ear. “Checker says he doesn’t have eyes on who’s shooting at you yet. Four of the goons are down though.”

            “We gotta get to the kids,” said Arthur.

            Right. The whole reason we were here in the first place—to rescue the shipment of children these assholes had been trying to smuggle into the city for the worst of purposes. Arthur had wanted to get them out first, but I’d insisted we take the chance to try for intel on the man behind it all. We’d been after Pourdry for months, but he was a fucking ghost.

            No matter how many kids we pulled from the trafficking ring’s clutches, it wouldn’t make a difference if we couldn’t behead the operation. And now our best chance had exploded in front of us. My hands tightened on my rifle.

            “Hang tight where you are,” Pilar said in my ear. “Checker’s taken some of the drones up to see if he can get a—Oh. Whoever it was just shot one of them down.”

            “Okay, now I’m mad,” came the voice of Arthur’s business partner and LA’s top computer-expert-slash-hacker. “Who would shoot a perfectly nice robot like that? No manners.”

            “Pilar, tell Checker to shut up unless he has something useful to say,” I said, so harshly I practically heard Pilar wince.

            “Pilar, please tell Cas this is not the time for her little grudge against me,” Checker said back with perfect cattiness.

            “Shove it up /dev/null, you dick,” I shot back.

            “Both of you, stop it. And remember, I used to work for a tech company, so I speak geek.” Pilar was a recent hire of Arthur and Checker’s, though her usual job was admin in their private investigations office. Since being hired she’d also taken it upon herself to pressure me into teaching her to shoot a gun, which may have endeared her to me slightly, and tonight she’d been recruited as dispatch. A good thing, too, because I didn’t know how much longer I could keep being professional.

            “You said you’d pegged the kids down near the water?” Arthur said into his own earpiece, ignoring our byplay.

            “We did get a thermal read—” Pilar paused, then spoke like she was reading off the numbers. “Cas, it’s bearing three hundred and forty-one degrees, a hundred and ninety-four meters from you. But we still don’t have eyes on whoever that sniper is, so stand by—”

            “Forget it,” I interrupted her, and took off, not waiting to see if Arthur agreed. I did take us on a roundabout route that would at least keep us hidden from the sniper’s last known position—I wasn’t totally reckless.

            We hurried under a line of cranes, their struts rising in looming silhouettes against the starless night sky. The water spread inky and black to our left. I kept us at a jog, Pilar’s bearing fixed in my head along with a constantly updating map of how far the sniper or the goons could have gotten on foot. Unfortunately, both those numbers had intersected with our position long before we got there.

            We crouched among the struts of the last crane. The number Pilar had given led straight to a lone shipping container just at the water’s edge. No confirmation yet that it had people inside, but if it had lit up the thermals, it probably did.

            Fucking Pourdry. I was going to get those kids out of there if it was the last thing I did tonight.

            I turned to grab Arthur and make a dash for the shipping container, and for the barest instant I couldn’t find him. Instead, another man was next to me, a bronze-skinned man with wavy hair, and I was yelling to him, I’m going to get those kids out if it’s the last thing I do—

            “Russell?” said Arthur.

            I shook off the vision. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

            We edged out along the water, at an angle to each other so as to cover more of the surrounding darkness. I was acutely aware of how much height the Port of Los Angeles had. Cranes, scaffolding, shipping containers stacked four or five high—plenty of places for a mystery sniper to hide. Who might it be? One of Pourdry’s rivals? Then they’d definitely want us dead, too. Law enforcement? Not exactly their MO, but if so, that was even worse for us than an enemy. Of course, they could always be dirty vigilantes like us, but Arthur was right that most people didn’t shoot that close to someone if they cared about the person staying alive.

            We crept closer. Only a few meters out, I glanced back toward our destination—and immediately held up a hand.

            Arthur stopped behind me. “What is it?”

            “The lock’s busted. Someone beat us here.”

            Arthur cursed softly.

            A dark blade of a shadow appeared around the edge of the shipping container, at the minuscule strip of dock before the drop-off into the water. A shadow holding a rifle.

            “Well, hey there, Russell,” he drawled.

            The silhouette of a long coat, and a tall Asian man who moved fluidly across the young brunette in front of me. The spray of blood smacked my cheeks as her eyes went glazed and vacant. The man stepped back.

            “Hello, Cas,” he said.

            “She wasn’t going to hurt me,” I said through stiff lips. I was holding a handgun, but it dangled at my side.

            “What she knew could have,” said the shadow.

            “Rio,” I whispered.

            Pain blossomed in my bicep. Arthur had unobtrusively grabbed my arm, so deep bruises were forming, but I’d needed it. My hands had gone slick on the rifle.

            “What did you say?” asked the man in front of us. The man who wasn’t Rio, wasn’t part of my swamp of a past, and who currently had his own rifle raised and pointed directly at the center of my face.

            I’d just lost it in the middle of a job. I couldn’t lose it while in the middle of a job.

            I didn’t lose it while in the middle of a job.

            And why Rio? He was off somewhere on the other side of the world, reveling in blood while he brought the Lord’s justice down on those he deemed deserving. Lately, however, he wouldn’t stop bringing his massacres into my dreams . . . and now my waking life as well.

            Rio was my oldest friend, but even I didn’t like dwelling on what he was capable of.

            “You going to point that thing somewhere else?” Arthur called across to the sniper. I had the distinct impression he was covering for me.

            “That depends,” the man answered. “Are you?”

            “Malcolm,” I growled, my mind finally dredging up the correct name. “What the hell are you doing here?”

            “I could ask you the same question,” Malcolm said lazily. “Would’ve expected you to be on the other side of this. Aren’t you the gal who’ll take any job for the right price?”

            “They’re children,” I said with disgust.

            “Glad to know you have a line somewhere.”

            Malcolm was one of the best snipers I knew—like most people in LA’s criminal underground, we’d both worked together and tried to kill each other a few times before, which put us on reasonably friendly terms. The minus side was that he worked for the LA Mafia, who I didn’t currently have the greatest relationship with. On the plus side, his appearance here probably showed his bosses’ demented protectiveness over their city if they were this keen to stop human trafficking.

            “What does the Madre want with all this?” I demanded. “Madame Lorenzo’s in the business of rescuing children now?”

            “Somebody’s got to,” Malcolm said.

            An all-too-familiar guilt stabbed. Arthur and I had been doing our best to wrench up Pourdry’s operations the last few months, but we kept running face-first into brick walls. The powerlessness had been suffocating. But if the Mafia was getting involved . . . I revised my initial reaction that their brand of protection could be a positive. If they took over here, it would either lead to all of LA getting burnt to the ground or the whole city under mob control.

            I had flexible morals when it came to criminal enterprises. But the idea of them taking over completely . . . maybe it was Arthur’s influence that made the bile rise in my throat. Or maybe the fact that I felt responsible for it all.

            I’d chosen this future, after all.

            Malcolm seemed to make a sudden decision and slung up his rifle. “You two can head. This situation’s been handled.”

            “You shot the guys who were going to lead us to Pourdry,” I said, even as I reluctantly lowered my weapon too. “Fuck you very much for that.”

            “They weren’t going to give anything away,” Malcolm said. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

            “What’s going to happen to the kids?” Arthur asked.

            “We’ll call the police, of course, like good citizens, and get them taken care of.” Malcolm gave us the grin of a Cheshire cat as he lit up, the flame lighting the hard planes of his face. The Mob owned good portions of the Los Angeles Police Department, I remembered.

            We own you, whispered a voice in my head.

            “Come on, Russell,” someone said in my ear. Arthur. “We’re done here.”

            We weren’t even close to done. We had to make sure the port was clear of any more of Pourdry’s people—and search whatever ship they’d used; I was a shit investigator but Arthur was a goddamned PI. Not to mention that I wanted to stay horned in on this long enough to ensure that the Mafia kept their fucking word, and they actually did get the kids we’d been trying to rescue to safety. . . .

            Rio splashed someone’s blood across my brain again, and the world schismed in front of me for just long enough that I lost my bearings.

            What the fuck.

            “Give my regards to the Madre,” I managed in Malcolm’s direction, and followed Arthur away into the night.

Two

Arthur said something quietly to Pilar and Checker and stopped the call. I’d stuffed my earpiece in a pocket without telling them we were out and okay, which probably broke some kind of team etiquette. I hated working with people anyway.

            “Well, that was fubared from start to finish,” I said, kicking back in the passenger seat of Arthur’s SUV. The thing was built like a tank—he’d splurged after his last few cars had gotten blown up or shot at. Arthur’s friendship with me hadn’t been good for his car insurance bill.

            “We’re still alive. Kids are too,” Arthur said, nosing carefully down the predawn streets toward the freeway. “Not as bad as it could have been.”

            “Pourdry’s making LA into his own little fiefdom. And what, the LA Mob is going to sort him out? The last thing this city needs is the crime syndicates warring for control.”

            “You almost sound like you approve of law and order,” Arthur said.

            “I’ll give you some law and order. I’m going to find Pourdry and put him in the ground.”

            That shut him up for a minute.

            “I’m surprised you’ve been so willing to go all vigilante lately,” I said, maybe just to needle him. Arthur was usually the one lecturing me—call the cops in, stop carrying so many illegal weapons, stop stealing, stop killing so many people. But the past few months, he’d been the one bringing in most of the intel on Pourdry and looping me in on the rescues.

            “Sometimes you gotta make exceptions,” Arthur mumbled. “Seems like it’s more and more necessary these days.”

            “You mean because it’s our fault?”

            “Maybe some of that, too.”

            Guilt spiked in me again. Just over a year ago we’d been jointly responsible for hamstringing the organization known as Pithica, an international conspiracy bent on making the world a better place—though run by literal telepaths who accomplished their good deeds through murder and brainwashing. And as we’d dreaded, without their influence, crime had been burgeoning slowly ever since.

            I’d sat with Checker, staring at a computer screen that held the key to defeating them, and we’d wrestled with ourselves over whether we should push that button. Take down Dawna Polk and her gang of psychics and let the world spin on as it would, free of their puppetmastery, or let them be and let the results of their machinations make most people’s lives . . . better. Even if those people didn’t know why.

            I’d self-righteously taken on that decision for the entire global population.

            Now I was seeing what I had wrought. Over the past year and change, criminal activity had gone from a slow ramp-up to an exponential explosion. Los Angeles had never been a particularly friendly city, but now it was becoming a nerve center for gang violence, for organized crime, for kids OD’ing in squalor and drive-by shootings in neighborhoods that had so recently bragged of safety and revitalization. Los Angeles wasn’t the only place, either. But in LA, we saw it up close and personal.

            I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t second-guessing the decision we’d made. And I was pretty sure it was even harder on Arthur than it was on me. He’d cared a lot more to begin with.

            The night was late enough for even Los Angeles’s preternaturally frustrating traffic to have died down, and Arthur sped up the freeway toward the Valley. Instead of heading to drop me at my current hidey-hole in Santa Clarita, however, he swung off onto the streets to pull up in front of a dim dive bar that was still open despite having zero other customers.

            “What are we doing here?” I said.

            “Gonna buy you a drink.”

            I suppressed a sigh. Arthur had an annoying tendency to go all worried-parent routine on me. But with the job over I wasn’t about to turn down hard alcohol.

            Arthur ensconced me in a booth at the opposite side of the room from the bar and then came back a minute later with a beer for himself and a glass of something stronger that he set in front of me. I knocked it back all at once. The burn felt cleansing.

            “Sounds like you and Checker are still fighting,” Arthur said after a minute. He hadn’t taken a sip of his beer yet.

            That was a subject I definitely didn’t want to discuss. “If Checker wants to be friends again, he can stay the hell out of my past. I told him I don’t want to know, end of story. He has no right to get all hacker-y and try to dig it up anyway.”

            “He’s stubborn. And he’s worried about you. He cares.” After a pause, Arthur added, “He’s not the only one, either.”

            “I’m fine,” I snapped.

            Arthur studied me, his expression unreadable.

            “What?”

            “What happened today?”

            “What do you mean, what happened?” I said it too loud. Rio murdering someone in front of me. The darkness shifting and changing to places and times I didn’t know.

            Arthur spoke slowly, picking out his phrasing. “Never seen you get . . . distracted like that before. Scared me.”

            I tried to tell him it had been nothing, but the lie stuck on my tongue. I pushed up out of the booth instead. “I’m getting another drink.”

            I persuaded the grubby bartender to give me the whole bottle, mostly by waving a C-note at her for a fourteen-dollar bottle of whiskey. When I came back, I slid onto the booth’s bench and chugged from it. Arthur watched me with what was probably disapproval, but he didn’t try to stop me.

            “You and me are supposed to be watching each other,” he said instead. “Remember? Making sure Dawna didn’t do anything permanent?”

            Right. Watching each other’s brains. I wasn’t the only one Dawna Polk had psychically attacked in a last-ditch effort to save her global string-pullers. Arthur hadn’t had an easy time of it either, but he also didn’t seem to be suffering any residual effects. Whereas I . . .

            Dawna had almost ended me that night. The whole onslaught was still a prickly jumble, parts of it intermittently remembered and forgotten, other parts only the shapes of a memory. But since then, my nightmares had begun slowly bleeding into my waking life.

            At least I was pretty sure she wasn’t still influencing me, though. She’d just scarred me badly enough for my brain to start chewing on itself.

            I’m doing very little, said the echo of power. Picking at threads, as it were. Your brain has the most inventive ways of trying to destroy you.

            I gulped some more whiskey, grateful for the slight edge it took off my senses, and then leaned my elbows on the table so I could press my head against my hands, conveniently burying my face behind my forearms and avoiding Arthur’s gaze.

            If I was screwing him over in the field . . .

            I had to tell him. Shit. Shit.

            “I saw things.” I tried to spit it out in one go, without hearing the meaning behind the words. I’d never planned to say it aloud, even as more and more of Dawna’s attack resurfaced, haunting me—

            I forced myself on. “When she was in my head. I saw . . . things from my past, I think. And this.”

            I reached into a pocket with a hand that felt like it was pushing through molasses and drew out a folded piece of paper. It had crumpled and gone ratty around the edges from being carried with me. I put it on the table and slid it to the middle, slowly, as if it were dangerous.

            I thought it might be.

            Arthur reached for the paper and unfolded it. Read it. Glanced up at me. “This is your handwriting.”

            “Yeah.”

            “You don’t remember writing it?”

            “Nope,” I said. “Dawna played that note for me in a vision. And then I found my own grave.”

            “Show me,” said Arthur.

***

We pulled up outside the cemetery just as the sun rose, washing out the city in pale dawn light as the day figured out whether it wanted to stay chilly or turn scorching. We were just moving out of Los Angeles’s version of winter, which meant it was still jacket weather but now mixed with increasingly frequent ninety-degree heat waves.

            The note was back in my pocket. Do not try to remember under any circumstances, it read, the precise math of the handwriting analysis leaving no doubt I had penned it.

            And my signature underneath. Cas Russell.

            I saw my own hands folding the note, the paper crisp and white—

            “Just in case,” a male voice said. “We won’t need it.”

            I turned to pass it to him—

            “Russell?” Arthur touched my shoulder.

            I shook myself. “This way.”

            The smooth asphalt of the paths shimmered in the morning sun. We headed down between the soldiering lines of headstones and well-manicured lawns.

            I remembered exactly where the columbarium was. Dawna had shown me the location of the note in my own head, and somehow my hindbrain had grabbed on to it and yanked, pulling me to drive, drive, drive here one night and then push inside the door until I stood here, in this building, surrounded by the soaring slant of wall plaques, each a human life burned down to a few pounds of ash—

            I was panting slightly. Arthur waited next to me, a steady presence.

            “There.” I pointed.

            Arthur moved over to the wall. I joined him. “Cassandra Russell” read the carved marble. The hand of death felt like it crawled up the back of my neck.

            Arthur ran his fingers over the cover stone and found the fine cracks in it. “Your doing?”

            “I broke it,” I said. “To get the note. I guess they repaired it.”

            “You knew it was here,” said Arthur. It wasn’t a question.

            I swallowed. I didn’t know why I wanted to cling so hard to not saying anything, to not admitting the mounting trouble I was having with my own goddamn brain. But a good part of me—most of me—wanted to run. Hide. Ignore. Bury myself elsewhere, somewhere I’d never have to face anyone who might guess how much I was teetering.

            I pressed my hand flat against the marble wall as if it would anchor me here. “Today, at the port,” I made myself say. “You asked what happened. I saw—I think it was a memory.”

            Arthur straightened toward me. “You saw something?”

            “It was—I don’t know. Some guy. I was talking to him.” I didn’t mention the other memory, the one with Rio. Arthur already didn’t like Rio. He didn’t need to know I was hallucinating the man’s murders. “It was . . . I was there, for just a second, and then I was back.”

            The door to the columbarium pushed open. I spun away from the wall like I was guilty of something.

            Arthur, who was a lot better at undercover work than I was, merely turned toward the noise as if it were the most natural thing in the world. An elderly caretaker with a full beard and a haircut that rivaled Einstein’s had come in carrying some gardening and cleaning tools.

            “Morning,” Arthur said.

            “Good morning,” the man answered genially, and moved to cross past us, going about his duties.

            “Excuse me,” Arthur called. “This wall niche, any way I can contact the next of kin?”

            “Oh. Oh.” The man patted down his coverall with his free hand, as if he were looking for a phone number to pull out and give to Arthur but had forgotten where it was. “You’ll have to ask in at the office about that. They open at nine today.”

            “Thank you, I’ll do that,” Arthur said.

            “That’s the one that got vandalized, isn’t it?” The man squinted past us. “Yes, I know they called the family about it. Such a shame, what kids will do these days. . . .”

            Called the family?

            My senses dulled, the world closing in on me. Who the hell—

            “Hey, Russell. Russell.”

            Arthur had a hand on my shoulder. The caretaker had shuffled off.

            “What the fuck did he mean by that?” I ground out.

            “I take it you didn’t get a call,” Arthur said.

            I moved my head in a stilted shake. I’d put that note in the wall. I had; I was sure of it. And the cemetery had called someone else.

            “This is so fucked up,” I said through a hoarse laugh. “Dawna pulled some batshit scrap of something out of my head and then I go to find it and the fucking thing tells me not to remember. . . .”

            My hands twitched, my fingers recalling the tactile memory of dragging a pen into the shape of words. Do not try to remember . . .

            The ballpoint snagged against an irregularity beneath the paper, making the r turn topologically inequivalent.

            “I’m telling myself not to,” I said with an effort. “That’s the core of it, right? I need to trust myself. I need to stop.”

            “Sounds to me like you might not have a choice,” Arthur said quietly. “If this is happening . . . you can’t erase the memories of your life at will, right? Lord knows I’ve tried.”

            “It’s not my life, though,” I said. “It’s someone else. Someone not me. I don’t care, I don’t want it, I fucking warned myself not to—”

            I stopped.

            “What is it?” said Arthur.

            My breath hitched in my throat. “I just—something Dawna—”

            You might have a chance at fighting me. If you weren’t already fighting yourself.

            “Russell? What’d she do?”

            “Dawna—she—” How had I forgotten? How? Dawna’s words reverberating through every corner of my mind as she’d taken me apart . . . “I thought she just left some sort of—some sort of injury, or mental scarring, but that’s not it. That’s not it.” My voice sounded hoarse, as if I’d been screaming. “She’s the one who told me. She told me to . . .”

            “Told you to do what? Russell?”

            “She said—she said remember.” I swallowed. Uncontrolled nightmares made real, invading my waking consciousness. Dawna had made it so. She hadn’t stabbed me in the psyche; she’d merely opened a door and ordered me to look.

            That was all. That was everything.

            “She told me to remember,” I whispered. “And now . . . I think I am.”

This excerpt is used with Permission from Tor Books, an imprint of Tom Doherty Associates. Copyright (c) 2019 S.L. Huang. 

Null Set is available for pre-order now. Zero Sum Game can be purchased via Amazon or your local independent bookstore.

SL Huang is an Amazon-bestselling author whose debut novel, Zero Sum Game, is upcoming from Tor. Her short fiction has sold to Strange Horizons, Analog, and The Best American Science Fiction & Fantasy 2016. She is also an MIT graduate, stuntwoman, and firearms expert. Follow her at www.slhuang.com or @sl_huang.

from Books http://bit.ly/2GqfNEW

[areswriting]

a x e : vi

“Nothing brings a family closer than Thanksgiving.”

I keep my rebuttal inside of my mouth by gritting my teeth—knowing that if I don’t, all I’ll taste over the holiday is my own blood.

Jason, however, leans his shoulder against mine and whispers, “This will be wife number four, wait and see.”

I side eye him and lean away, my lips itching to part, to tell him, just because he beat me, too, doesn’t mean we have bonded. It doesn’t make us family. Because my only family is dead.

Instead, I keep my eyes fixated on my cell phone and place an ear bud into my right ear. “Then that makes your dynamic with Elise awkward, no?”

And that’s when I hear it—faintly, the sound of Cerise asking her daughter if things with me are over. I don’t want to look up, but I can’t stop myself; and when I do, Elise is staring back at me.

“Oui,” she replies, then slowly turns forward.

“What did she just say?” Jason asks. “I’m only in French II, and I’m barely passing.”

I sigh, then I find myself with the upper hand, and I can’t stop myself from smiling. “Cerise asked if you and Elise are an item—I assume you understood her answer?”

Jason claps his hands together like a child on Christmas and I’m taken aback by his excitement. Being who he is—he could have his choice of girls at school, in fact I’ve seen many throw themselves at him and he never showed any interest.

“You’ve liked her for a long time?” I ask.

“No,” he shakes his head, his eyes trained on the back of her seat. “But, I feel like I can trust her, you know? She’s different. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to,” I say, finally looking up. “I know exactly what you mean.”

And my mind drifts off to Sylvia just as the wheels of the plane leave the tarmac.

▲ △ ▼ ▽

K: Just landed at LaGuardia. I’ll text you when I get to my dad’s.

✓ Message read

K: You’re really going to leave me on read again?

✓ Message read

Over an hour later, Malachi and Cerise lead us into his building. Judging from the way she navigates the lobby, this isn’t Cerise’s first time coming here. Judging from her daughter’s hesitance, I can tell she hopes it will be the last time. Or perhaps the death grip Jason has on her frail hand is making her uncomfortable.

When the private elevator opens directly into my father’s penthouse, I’m surprised to see that it isn’t vacant. Two little girls, who couldn’t be older than seven, squeal and jump over the back of an expensive looking leather couch and dart toward us.

“Daddy!” they scream in unison, each of them clinging to one of Malachi’s legs. I wince, half expecting him to kick them away, but much to my surprise he leans down and scoops them into his arms. Both looking and playing the part of a loving father.

Then it hits me—those are my little sisters. Ones that I didn’t even know existed until now.

“Eva, Emilia!” Malachi says after planting a kiss on each one of their heads. “I missed you girls!”

The bag I’m holding falls from my hand and hits the hardwood floor with a loud thud—and suddenly everyone is looking at me, but I’m only looking at the little girl he called Emilia, and I’m looking at her like I’ve just seen a ghost.

“Who is he?” she asks, wiggling her way out of my father’s arms. She skips toward me and folds her hands in front of herself. More proper than I’ll ever be. “Who are you?”

“That,” Malachi says, “is your big brother Abram.”

“Big brother?” she gasps and jumps up at me, leaving me with no choice but to grab her. She smashes my cheeks together with her tiny hands then hugs my neck tightly. “I love you already, Abram!” she says, not quite able to fully pronounce her R’s.

I gently set her down and take off to where I think a bathroom might be—because I am sure I am going to throw up. But just as I round a corner a woman emerges, and gasps at the sight of me. We stare at each other; and I notice that I’m not the only one who looks like they’ve just seen a ghost. The woman brings one hand up to her mouth while the other pushes her cay-eye glasses onto the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” I say, the bile rising further up my throat. “Bathroom?”

The woman points her thumb behind where she stands, and I quickly move around her—barely making it to the toilet before my breakfast makes its way past my lips.

I pick myself up and splash my face with cold water once, twice, then three times for good measure. Drying my hands I hear my phone chirp from my pocket, and I shakily pull it out.

New messages: Sylvia

S: I’m sorry! I was helping my mother at the grocery store. Is everything okay?

K: I need to call you. Can you talk?

S: Not right now, I’m sorry. What’s wrong?

K: I’ll explain everything later. Right now probably isn’t the best time for me to call anyways.

There is a quiet knock on the bathroom door and I try to compose myself.

“Just a second,” I say. As I move to grab the door knob, it begins to twist then open slowly. I freeze, watching as half of Elise’s face is revealed.

“Abram,” she says, looking up at me. “Are you okay?”

Both of us know why I wouldn’t be okay. Both of us know exactly how fucked up what just happened was.

I laugh silently, mostly to keep myself from crying, or punching a hole through the wall, and shake my head. “No, Elise, I’m not okay.”

She opens the door wider, letting herself in, and grabs my hand.

“What are you doing?” I say. “Do I look like Jas—”

Elise hushes me by putting her index finger up to my lips and tilts her head, eyes gesturing to the noise behind us.

I hear someone—a woman shouting, and Elise’s grip on my hand tightens as she gently tugs me closer, opening the door with her free hand. We step into the hallway, heads leaning into the chaos.

“Malachi Ian Rose, you lying bastard!”

“Mom!”

“You told me she had an abortion!”

“I thought she did! I can’t help that she kept the little bastard and didn’t tell anyone!”

Elise gasps at the sound that we both know was a loud slap. My entire body stiffens and Elise has to physically hold me back.

“Ow!”

“Oh, did that hurt?” the woman shouts. “You’re lucky I’m not wearing my wedding ring!”

Elise and I both have to cover our mouths to stifle our laughter.

“I think the people in Brooklyn heard that,” she says. I look down at her and I get an overwhelming desire to pull her into a hug and thank her for checking on me—but footsteps coming near stop me, and we both look up to see Jason appearing around the same corner I’d disappeared through.

“There you are,” he says, and he wastes no time in snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “Come on, I want to introduce you to my grandmother.”

▲ △ ▼ ▽

Malachi sits at one end of the dinner table, with one of my little twin sisters on either side of him. Cerise sits at the other end, with Elise to her left, and Genevieve to Elise’s left; leaving Jason to Cerise’s right, and me between him and my sister Emilia. The cater waiters pour champagne into our glasses, as a second set begins bringing out the first course—a salad no bigger than the palm of my hand, that probably would have cost my mother an entire year’s salary.

I notice Genevieve staring at me, but after the slap heard around the world earlier, I’m honestly too afraid to say anything to her.

“You know, you look just like her,” she says, which shocks me. “I knew the moment I saw you.”

“He looks just like who?” asks my little sister Eva, who is wearing most of her salad, and swirling her sparkling grape juice around in her cup. I fear she takes after my father a bit too much.

“No one,” my father cuts across, after taking a generous gulp of champagne. “We’re not discussing her at our family dinner.”

“That’s very telling of you, Malachi,” Genevieve replies, “Seeing as though you had no problem naming your daughter after her.” She looks at me and smiles. “I am quite fond of our little Emilia, just as I was of your mother.”

I look to my right, my little sister Emilia smiles up at me. “Gigi told me I was named after the prettiest girl in the world.”

“Gigi?” I say.

“Me, dear,” Genevieve says. “The three of your sisters call me Gigi and Jason calls me Genevieve.”

“So, I shouldn’t call you grandmother?” I say.

She laughs. “Maybe when I die, but until then I’d like it if you call me Gigi.”

“I’m sorry,” Cerise speaks up. “You said ze three of his sisters, you must be mistaken, Genevieve, I only count two.”

“You only see two, dear,” Gigi says, smiling sweetly. It reminds me of the way Elise smiles when she’s forcing herself to be cordial with someone. “The third will be joining us for Thanksgiving dinner, you’ll meet her then.”

My eyebrows knit together and I look at Malachi. “I’m sorry, but how many kids do you have?”

I know I’m safe from taking a beating—I also know I asked the question that even Cerise didn’t have the answer to.

“Five,” says Gigi. “That we know of. There could me more, of course, seeing as though I thought the number was four before this morning.”

I look across the table at Elise, who is laughing from behind her napkin. Gigi raises her hand and rubs her back. “Be careful, darling. I wouldn’t want you to choke before we reach the main course.”

“Mother,” Malachi says, folding his napkin. “Can I have a word with you? In private.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “You can chastise me in front of your children and your guests for inviting Sienna to Thanksgiving.”

“Sienna is my sister, right?” I ask.

Gigi nods. “Yes, she’s older, though, twenty-two, right Malachi?”

I look at my father to see him loosening his tie, however he doesn’t respond.

“Is there anything else you are interested in learning about my son, Miss Allaire?” Gigi asks Cerise.

Cerise looks up from her empty plate. “No, not at the moment.”

“Well, I’ll be here all week,” she replies.

▲ △ ▼ ▽

After dinner Cerise and Malachi disappear for drinks at the bar in the lobby, leaving the rest of us sat around the living room. Eva fell asleep on Jason’s lap, much to his dismay, I’m sure, because I can see him practically pining for Elise, who was forced to share the love seat with me at Emilia’s request. Though now the little girl lays across us, snoring softly.

And Gigi sits in one of the arm chairs by the fire, talking to Elise about the time she spent in France as a young girl.

“Quelle ville etes-vous reste dans?” asks Elise.

(which city did you stay in?)

“Partout, mais surtout Paris,” Gigi replies fondly.

(All over, but mostly Paris.)

“Paris se sent comme a la maison,” Elise says, smiling.

(Paris feels like home.)

“La maison est ou le couer est, mon cher,” Gigi says.

(Home is where the heart is, dear.)

“Dans cette cause, il n’est certainment pas ici,” I laugh.

(Then it certainly isn’t here.)

While Elise giggles, Gigi looks at me in shock.

“Well, I’m certainly glad I wasn’t saying anything bad about you,” she says.

“Unlike a certain mother of mine,” Elise says, then goes on to tell Gigi the story of how I met Cerise.

I pick Emilia up and lay her on the couch next to Jason, who had fallen asleep as well. I take a moment to appreciate how less annoying he is when he’s lying there, not talking, before I throw a small blanket over him.

“So, you and my grandson?” Gigi says, looking at Elise.

“Oh no—we’re not—”

“I was speaking about Jason,” she says, giving Elise a look I don’t quite understand before she looks at her watch. “Oh, it’s after one in the morning. Where did the time go?”

She excuses herself and tells us we’ll pick up where we left off—and much to my surprise pulls me into a long, tight hug.

“I’m glad you’re here, Abram,” she whispers before kissing me cheek. When she pulls away she offers Elise a sweet smile. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Allaire. You two kids don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Once Gigi is out of the room, I lean against the arm of the love seat and tilt my head at Elise. “Are you ready for bed, too? Because I think I am.”

I gesture for her to follow me, and I’m surprised when she does. I take her up a staircase and down the hall to the room I stayed in when I was here over the summer. “I think this is my room,” I say. “We can share?”