#I had this idea while waiting for the new bumper car round to start

[jimlingss]

Speaking of AUs and plots, OC damages someones car by accident and instead of money they want to be paid back in dates.

Anonymous said: For the request: “I can make you a deal you can’t refuse.”

↳ Auto Date Claim

2.3k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

Seokjin grips the steering wheel.

He blows through the yellow light even though he should’ve stopped but there’s no time to waste, not when the last thing he wants is to be late for the meeting. Everything has to be perfect.

Which is what makes this phone call the worst.

“I’m not coming.”

“What?!” Jin looks to the display screen where there’s Jisoo’s name as if he can telepathically send her his exasperated expression. “Why not?!” 

“You know why. I don’t want to be a doll that’s supposed to sit there silently, Seokjin. I’m done.”

“No. Please. You know how important this meeting is to me. You can’t be doing this—”

“Oh, yes I can.”

She hangs up. Seokjin groans, the urge to slam his forehead against the steering wheel overwhelming. But he resists and when he gets to the next red light, he frantically calls Yoongi.

The dial tone rings over his car speakers and then the man picks up. Yoongi is calm by nature and there’s little that can faze him. But now, his voice pitches up every so slightly. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you on your way to meeting the Jeon’s?”

“Yeah, but Jisoo just called to tell me she’s not coming.”

“Oh shit.”

Family. Marriage. Commitment. They’re essential pillars for the Jeon’s who’ve been married for fifty years. They’re old school, the epitome of tradition. The plan was for Jin to look like a family man too, to add to his own integrity and to show that he shares the Jeon’s company values. And everything matters when it comes to the contract they’ve been trying to sign for the past year. A minuscule detail like this could tip the scales and make the Jeon’s sign with the competitor instead.

“Is Irene there?” Jin asks as he drives. “Maybe she can come instead.”

“She’s already running an errand for Hoseok. Just...make something up. Maybe you can say—”

At the exact same time, as Seokjin stops for a red light, the entire car jolts forward without warning. He nearly slams his head on the wheel — this time, unintentionally. 

What the fuc—

“Yoongi, wait. I just got rear-ended.”

“What?!”

As if things couldn’t get worse today. Jin undoes his seat belt and climbs out of the car. The perpetrator of the accident also gets out and he looks at you who’s completely wide-eyed.

“I’m so sorry!” you screech in horror. “I was just singing to this new album and looking around, I’ve never driven on this street before and I wasn’t paying attention, I’m so so sorry.”

You come to look at the damage at his bumper and a gasp tears from your throat. It’s a Maserati.

You don’t know much about cars, but even you’re aware this is a luxury vehicle imported from somewhere in Europe. Germany. France. Italy. One of those fancy countries where you haven’t even dreamed of traveling to. You don’t know much but one thing’s certain — you’re so fucked.

As you’re losing your mind, Seokjin taps his foot and checks his watch. 

His eyes bulge when he realizes the hour’s almost up. “Do you have your insurance information?” he blurts, interrupting your internal meltdown.

“I-Insurance?” You deflate all at once. “I don’t.”

Seokjin sighs and glances over his shoulder. The Hwagae Hotel where the meeting was taking place was so close that he could practically see the entrance door from here.

There’s no more time to waste.

“I’m heading to the Hwagae Hotel.” He points down the street. “Do you want to talk about it there?”

You nod dejectedly and get back into your car to follow him into the hotel’s parking lot before you slow down traffic any more than you already have. Getting more angry drivers on your back is the last thing you need at the moment. At the same time, your mind scrambles for solutions. But it comes up empty.

God fucking dammit. You shouldn’t have been cheap. You should’ve just gone hungry for an entire week to get the car insurance. Why on earth did you think you didn’t need it?!

By the time you get out of your car again, you’re on the verge of tears.

You eye the expensive, sleek black car. Then your eyes stray to the stranger.

“I...I don’t have much money I can give you.”

Jin glances at his watch and then at you. He finally gets a good look at you. Or rather, he notices your simple skirt and blouse ensemble. In an instant, a light bulb flickers in his brain.

“You don’t need to pay if you follow me.” His head nudges towards the hotel and your eyes become rounded at the suggestion. You gawk at the door of the hotel and back at him within seconds, entirely horrified. Seokjin quickly clarifies, “I have a business brunch inside and I need a partner to go with. You don’t need to do anything. You can just stay silent and eat.”

Seokjin watches as you look at the car and then his crisp suit before you’re slowly coming to nod. “A-Alright.”

He turns on his heel and struts into the hotel lobby without waiting for you.

Seokjin wouldn’t necessarily call himself a spontaneous person, but when push comes to shove and it’s the last moment, he’s good at coming up with fixes. He prides himself on it, having been the person who jumped in at the last second to repair things on more than one occasion. 

Podium mic not working at the charity banquet? He ran to the nearby mall and bought a portable karaoke microphone at a booth. The client has a pollen allergy he didn’t know about? He threw the flowers on the table out the window when she turned around. The handouts for the shareholder meeting were forgotten? He announced they were going paperless. 

The point is: Seokjin will do whatever it takes. Even if his methods are unconventional.

He enters the lavish hotel restaurant, already finding the couple by the windows. He brushes past the hostess with a sparkling smile and peeks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still following after him.

“Seokjin!”

They’re an old couple in professional garb. The man is in a gray suit while the woman is in a modest navy dress. He doesn’t miss the Louis Vuitton purse next to her wine glass filled with water.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Jeon. You as well, Mrs. Jeon.” 

He shakes their hands and at once, Mrs. Jeon looks at you with her brows raised. “And who is this?”

“This is my partner….”

“Y/N,” you fill in for him, realizing he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve been through your fair share of meetings, so you smile and shake their hands with ease. 

As strange as the situation is, you’re just relieved he wasn’t lying about it. You had the impression he wasn’t, but you were ready to hightail it out of here if he brought you into a hotel room.

“I didn’t know you had a partner, Seokjin,” the older man notes, impressed and curious.

Jin laughs. “Well, I’m glad you know now.” 

Everyone takes their seats and the waiter comes by to fill your glasses of water and ask if anyone wants a particular drink. Once he’s sauntered away, the woman across from you makes conversation. “What do you do, Y/N?”

So much for having to do nothing. “I’m an intern at JML.”

“Oh, I have a friend’s niece who works there. Are you looking to become an accountant then?” her husband asks.

“Hopefully.” You smile before lifting the glass of water to your lips.

“That’s so nice,” Mrs. Jeon sighs. “You young-ins should work and develop a career while you still have the chance. Heaven knows things become so much more difficult once you start a family.”

Family? It’s a foreign concept to hear considering it’s not a subject even in the realm of your concern. You manage to stiffly nod.

“How did you two meet?”

You almost spit out your water.

Seokjin reaches over to pat your back as you wheeze. “Are you alright...darling?”

You wipe your mouth with the tablecloth napkin. What was this guy’s name again? Seokho? No that wasn’t it. It had a J in it. Seok...ju? No….

“Seokjin, I’m fine.”

Mrs. Jeon watches the interaction through rose-coloured glasses and smiles knowingly. “My apologies if it’s an intrusive question. I just adore a good love story.”

“Actually, it’s a funny story.” Jin smiles as a sweat bead practically rolls down his face. “Y/N here rear-ended my car when I was on my way to a meeting and that’s how we got to know each other.”

He looks at you and starts to laugh. After a delayed moment, you join in and inwardly cringe at how awkward it sounds. Yet the old couple doesn’t notice.

“How long have you been together?” Mr. Jeon asks with a warm smile, hands threaded on the table.

You look at him and his laughter dies down. “T-Thr-Two years! Yes, two years.”

“Well isn’t that sweet,” she swoons to her husband who nods in approval. “Are you going to get married soon? It’s not good to let a young woman wait too long.”

If you didn’t choke before, you might again. This time from your own saliva.

Mr. Jeon hums. “Yes, I personally don’t think one should wait long if they know it’s the right person.”

“That’s right.”

“Well that’s good news,” Seokjin interjects before you get the chance and he suddenly blurts, “Because we’re already married.”

Your head whirls to him, neck nearly breaking from the whiplash. You gawk at his profile.

Mrs. Jeon gasps in amazement. Mr. Jeon appears intrigued.

As the proclamation leaves his lips, it’s already too late to take it back. Seokjin isn’t spontaneous. He’s just good at quick fixes, too good that they become permanent fixes.

The point is: Seokjin’s an absolute idiot sometimes.

“Really?! Where’s the ring?” 

“We’re getting it fixed at the moment. Y/N lost a bit of weight so it kept slipping off her fingers.”

He turns to you and you stare at him incredulously before deadpanning, “Right.”

“When did you get married?” Mr. Jeon asks.

“Recently,” Seokjin lies without batting a single lash. It’s not hard to pitch an idea or an outlandish one at that when he used to work as a door-to-door salesman during his teenage years and then a car salesman during his college years. 

Seokjin’s entire career has been built on convincing others.

“So you’re newlyweds then.”

You give him a look. Jin smiles. 

“Yes. We are.”

By the end of brunch, you know more about Kim Seokjin than you ever intended to know — case in point, you’re now aware of his last name. You know he’s three years older than you are, that he’s been working at his company for four, and he’s pretty high up on the corporate ladder but is still continuing to climb it. You even know about the possible contract between his company and the Jeon’s, and the open plot of land on Hwarang avenue that would apparently be the perfect location to expand the Golden Resort and turn it into a franchise.

You’re sure he knows way more about you than he’d like to know too.

“I’ll be honest, I was unsure if I wanted to sign with your company, Seokjin. But you’ve shown me you have a lot of integrity and a strong work ethic. I think our values are compatible as well.” Mr. Jeon shakes hands with Seokjin. “You’ll get a call from my office soon and I think you’ll like what you’ll hear.”

“Thank you so much, sir.”

“You’re a lovely couple,” Mrs. Jeon adds on as she looks at the pair of you standing next to one another. “I look forward to seeing you again soon, Y/N.”

“Y-Yes…”

The two of them bid their final farewells and Mr. Jeon lifts his hand to the valet across the lot. Mrs. Jeon hangs off his arm as their Cadillac is driven up to the door. They get in soon after.

It’s silent between you and Seokjin.

“So…..we’re married, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” He turns to you with a heavy sigh. “It was a really important client I have to sign with and they really value family and relationships.”

You nod. It doesn’t really matter now — what’s important is that it’s over. But one thing isn’t. “About your car….”

The both of you walk across the lot to his vehicle and he finally has the time to get a good look at the damage.

There’s a clear dent in his back bumper and a scratch. But luckily, there doesn’t seem to be much anywhere else.

“It’s a ninety nine thousand dollar car.”

You wheeze. “Pardon?”

“I don’t know how much the damage will be, but it might cost a bit.”

Oh my god.

Seokjin suddenly turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I can make you a deal you can’t refuse. I know you don’t have the means to pay for the damage, so you won’t have to. But in exchange, accompany me to business brunches or galas. It won’t be often and it’ll be similar to what you just experienced. You won’t have to say much and you can even eat for free.”

There’s a drawn out pause. You blink at him owlishly.

“I accidentally told him you were my wife and if you weren’t there from now on, it’ll look suspicious,” Seokjin explains. “It’ll be just for a little while. Maybe half a year? I’ll figure something out after that. How does it sound?”

You know you don’t have much of a choice.

You don’t have insurance and you don’t have money to pay out of pocket. If anything, the offer is generous and Seokjin seems trustworthy — especially considering you’ve gotten to know him in the past hour.

For all those reasons, maybe that’s why you nod. “I can do that.”

He smiles and you brace yourself for a whirlwind.

[rebelwrites]

You, Me And The Car (NSFW)

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N okay so this wasn’t going to be smutty but blame @chibsytelford for the complete 180 of this fic 🥵 and yes that’s my car 😜 but let’s start the month of with a bang quite literally 😜

Warnings: unprotected sex, sex in a public space

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

“Yo Spenser” Your Uncle shouted walking into the garage. “You been ordering shit again?”

“Yo Spenser” Your Uncle shouted walking into the garage. “You been ordering shit again?”

“Would I?” You smirked looking up from the engine bay, wiping your hands on the rag.

“What you got this time?” He asked, sliding the box across the floor.

“New intercooler, air intake. engine mounts and BOV” you grinned grabbing your knife, cutting through the tape on the boxes.

“Am I sensing a remap coming along?” He grinned leaning against the car causing you to growl at him without looking up from the boxes.

“Yes and get your ass off the car before I stab you” you glared.

“You are definitely your old man's kid” he chuckled, grabbing a drink from the mini fridge. “Are we getting all this today?”

“Urm” you said glancing at the clock, Clay was home from deployment today so you needed to make sure you had the car back together in time. “Yeah or as much as we can, Clay is home today”

“Well then kiddo we best get cracking” Alex grinned “Can’t have you being late after not seeing him for the last three months”

“I will be happy is all we get is the air intake and BOV done today, the rest I can do with Clay” you grinned as you slipped your wedding and engagement ring off, placing them between your lips and you fiddled with the clasp on the chain that the other one of Clay’s dog tag sat proudly, slipping your rings onto the chain you secured it back around your neck. The last thing you needed was fucking your rings up. “I’ve lost count how many times these headlights have been off the car now”

“Same here kiddo” Alex smirked, tossing you the ratchet and socket. “Whist we at it we will see if we can sort this fucking bumper sag out”

“Yes it’s been pissing off for a while but doubt there’s much we can do, it’s a Ford remember, the Fez’s are known for bumper sag” you laughed as you pulled the first headlight out.

“Come on you piece a shit just go in the hole goddammit” you shouted at the car as you tried to refit your bumper. “I don’t have time for you to be a cunt”

“And here I thought you loved this car” Alex laughed as he lifted the bumper up giving a bit more play to get the bolts in.

“Yeah well sometimes you need to threaten it and use brut force and ignorance” you laughed as you finally got the right side of the bumper secured. Just as your phone started ringing, placing a smoke between your lips you hit answer without checking who was calling.

“Where are you?” Emma practically shouted down the phone.

“Shit what time is it Em?” You panicked as you grabbed the other bolts, holding your phone between you ear, and cigarette in the corner of your mouth.

“Four thirty” she shouted “shit the plane is just coming into view, you haven’t got long”

“I’ve just gotta get my bumper back on kid, be there as quick as I can, I’m nearly done here. Just do whatever to stall Clay please”

You ended the call without saying bye, you didn’t have much time, the base was at least twenty minutes from her and you still had another five minutes of work and definitely no time to get changed.

In record time you managed to get the bumper back on the car, the tools were just dumped out the way, grabbing your bag and tossed it into the passenger seat. Starting the engine you didn’t even have time to appreciate the roar of the exhaust as you dipped the clutch slamming it into first, dropping the hand brake and wheel spinning out of the garage. Normally it would take twenty minutes to get to the base but you knew you could do it in ten.

The moment the boys walked out of the base, Clay knew something was off, there wasn’t that deep grumble in the air from your car, glancing around he realised you wasn’t there and couldn’t help but laugh, he knew you had parts arriving and more than likely lost track of time.

“Right before you say anything I’ve been asked to stall you” Emma laughed as she looked over Jason’s shoulder. “Something about she still had her bumper to fit, I dunno she might as well been speaking a different language”

“Garage is what twenty minutes away?” Sonny asked.

“Yeah she will get her in ten though” Clay laughed scratching his beard. “How long ago did you speak to her?”

“About twenty minutes ago” Emma nodded giving Clay a hug.

Soon enough there was a grumble that could be heard in the distance making Clay smile, he never needed to know when you arrived your car told him that you were only a mile out. He knew how guilty you were going to feel for being late and he was going to play. So there he stood, bag on the floor next to him, hands shoved in his pockets looking around for you with a sad look on this face.

“That’s evil Blondie” Sonny laughed leaning against his truck, no one had left yet because they wanted to see things play out.

You practically threw the car around the corner as you entered the base car park, you felt like the worst wife ever, having not seen you husband for three months you were late for him getting home. Reaching down you wrapped your fingers around the handbrake, yanking it up as you stomped on the clutch, pulling the steering wheel to the left, sliding the car through the car park stopping a few feet away from Clay.

Climbing out of the car you ran over to him throwing yourself into his arms. His arms instantly wrapping around your waist, he couldn’t keep the act up when it came to you.

“I am so fucking sorry I’m late, the bumper wouldn’t go back on” you rambled.

“Babygirl it’s fine” he whispered squeezing you tight. “I know you love the car more than me”

“Hey that’s not fair” you pouted but laughing “I would have been on time but the fez wasn’t playing ball”

“Stop panicking, you can just make it up to me later” Clay laughed as he placed you on your feet, draping his arm around your shoulder picking his bag up. “Out of interest how long did it take to get here?”

“Eight minutes” you laughed opening the boot.

“Getting quicker” Clay winked before looking over at Sonny. “Tell me you got it on film”

“Of course, number one rule when it comes to the female Spenser is always have your phone on record” Sonny laughed.

“Wanna go for a drive and see where we end up?” You whispered running your finger down Clay’s chest whilst you stole his cap, placing it on your head.

“I like your thinking” he smirked, slapping your arse.

The two of you had been driving for about an hour now, no music was on as you could now enjoy the labour of your work. Every time you changed gear you heard the turbo flutter making you laugh every time. This was the time Clay loved the most, watching you drive, watching as your eyes sparkled, your grin getting bigger by the second and you laughing at yourself.

Pulling into the car park you and Clay had found one day whilst driving, you pulled the handbrake on putting the car into neutral but left it running.

“So I was thinking” you whispered “I want to try something that involves you, me and the car”

“Oh yeah” he smirked, running his hand up your bare thigh. “And what’s this idea babygirl”

“I wanna ride you whilst you are against the bonnet” you breathed closing your eyes at the thought “I want you to take me over the bonnet and fuck me”

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to say that” he hummed against your lips “why are we still sat in the car baby”

You never moved so fast in your life, there was just something naughty about this, the fact you could get caught just added to it. You couldn’t help but bite your lip as Clay leant against the bonnet of the car with his jeans dropped round his knees, closing the gap between you, you wrapped you hand around his hard dick, slowly pumping it making him moan as he undid your the button on your shorts. Doing a little wiggle as he pushed the material down, they dropped to your ankles allowing you to step out of them. The moment you lost your thong Clay picked you up positioning your over his dick.

Slowly you sunk down on his length, gasping at the feeling, you were taking things slow as it had been three months and Clay wasn’t exactly small.

“Fuck” you breathed against his lips.

“I know baby” he whispered “so fucking tight”

After a few minutes Clay started lifting you up and down, fully taking your weight as he helped you ride him against your car.

“Clay” you moaned as he changed the pace up, before standing off the car, slamming you down on the bonnet.

“God I missed this feeling” he grunted as he thrusted hard into you making you arch your back, bucking your hips up to get him deeper.

“Fuck fuck fuck” you moaned as his thumb found your clit matching the pace of his hips, “oh god”

“That’s it baby” he groaned biting down on his bottom lip, “fuck I can feel you getting tighter babygirl”

“Clay I’m so close” you whimpered, making him smirk, he knew you were close by how your body was reacting but loved hearing you say it.

It only took a few more hard thrusts for him to send you over the edge screaming his name out for the whole world to hear as you rode out your high, but he didn’t stop thrusting as he chased his own release making your whimpers and moans to get louder, it didn’t help the car was still running so you had the added vibration of the engine beneath you, feeling his grip on your hips tighten he gave one fine thrust, moaning as he came.

Leaning forward he kissed you lovingly as you both regained your breath, his ass on view for every man and their dog to see but neither of you cared, you were too lost in each other.

"I don't know who's louder baby, the grumble of the exhaust or you" he laughed against your lips.

“Definitely me” you giggled, placing your hand on the side of his face, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb as you got lost in his eyes. “I missed you so much”

“I know babygirl, I missed you too, but I’m home now” he breathed, his eyes dropping to your rings around your neck, moving his hands he undid the clasp, sliding the rings off the chain. Before taking your left hand. “Let’s get these back where they belong” he whispered, sliding them back onto your finger before kissing them.

“What do you wanna do now?” You smiled as you leant your head back against the bonnet.

“I was thinking we head home, get a takeaway and cuddle on the sofa, maybe with round two and three thrown in” he smirked as he pulled out of you. He quickly disappeared but returned with a pair of boxers for his bag to clean himself and you up, once the pair of your were dressed he took your hand pulling you into his arms.

“Damn you’ve got some energy today” you giggled looking up at him.

“Well when you have a wife that’s as gorgeous and as fit as you it happens” he laughed kissing your head. “I love you baby”

“I love you too” you whispered “you can drive home, I don’t think my legs are working yet”

“You must love me if you are letting me drive”

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitsnicolexo @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading

[prettyyyboyluke]

Umm I was wondering if you could maybe do an imagine where cal is like her brothers bad boy friend and the reader is innocent ... or that's what everyone thinks...umm idk if you're taking requests but if you could do this I would really appreciate it🥺

~

y/n’s brother’s a sophomore in college, and once he graduated high school, he had moved out and gotten his own apartment. one with two bedrooms so she could have a place to stay when going to visit him. granted, he was only two hours away, but it was still nice since she didn’t have her parents helicoptering her. y/n was lucky to have a brother like tyler, the two were very close and were open about lots of things. so of course, he didn’t mind her and a few of her friends joining him and his friends for movie nights or small kickbacks.

that’s exactly what tonight was, a kickback. y/n was more than excited because tyler invites his best friend over each time, and he’s the hottest guy y/n’s ever seen, at least that’s what she thinks. curly black hair with blonde streaks, tall and muscular, tattoos dispersed all over his body, she practically drools every time she sees him. she thinks there are no flaws for him, except he’s that “i don’t date,” type of guy, which leaves lots of girls heartbroken.

y/n always arrives early to help tyler set up since he’s very unorganized and needs help setting out snacks for their friends. of course, y/n is on aux because she swears by her spotify being better than her brothers, but no one has ever complained about the music.

“god tyler, how did you ever survive your semesters without me here.” she laughs.

“oh, shut up. i’m perfectly fine, just not as organized as you.” he jabs back.

their friends pile into the apartment, chatting amongst themselves about their last week of school. y/n’s about to pour herself a drink when calum walks through the front door. she stares longingly, her eyes following up his body and his movements as he says hello to everyone there. her friend nova gives her a hard jab in her side, emphasizing the fact that she is practically drooling over the new quarter zip-up sweatshirt she just purchased. she straightens up, pushing out her chest. calum looks her way, smiling at her and making his way over.

“didn’t know tyler suddenly had a bad girl of a sister.” he smiles at her smugly, and if y/n didn’t know any better, she’d say he was speaking in a malicious tone, but she knows him better than that.

she rolls her eyes at him, “shut up!” she swats at his bicep. “tyler told you about my car, huh?”

“yeah,” he laughs, “said that your whole bumper came off. i’m surprised they let you out of the house tonight, you know since you’re a little girl.”

y/n’s cheeks start to heat up, her body temperature rising as their conversation continues. “i am not a little girl, calum. just because you’re a few years older than me doesn’t mean anything!” she crosses her arms, looking playfully furious and calum wants to run his thumb across the pout on her lips.

“sure, pretty girl.” he takes her drink and takes a sip. he hums at the liquor that hits his taste buds, “i’ll be taking this,” he says, shaking her drink in front of her eyes.

when he’s a few feet away, her friends chime in. “god, he’s so hot.”

“you just know he’s packing.”

“hey!” y/n screeches softly, “he’s mine! find your own college boy to drool over.”

she makes her self another drink, thanks to calum, and joins everyone by the couch. she walks around to the end of the couch where calum is sat at, ready to sit on the love seat next to nova, but calum catches her wrist and pulls her into his lap. her cheeks heat up, again, relieved when tyler is preoccupied with the game they’re about to play.

“what’re you doing?” she hisses into his ear. “my brother’s right there.”

“and? amaya is practically sitting on top of him.” he points to the two in the small chair. she shivers and shakes her head. “see? so it’s perfectly fine if we sit together.” he moves over a bit, giving her room to sit next to him but still somewhat on his thigh, and she looks at him while she positions herself. “everything alright here, pretty girl?”

“yup! yup, everything’s fine.” she looks at the way their legs are tangled together. she cracks her knuckles, trying to calm some of her nerves. calum slings an arm around her side of the couch, making her lean subconsciously into him. she knows what he’s doing... and she loves it.

~

they’re about two and a half rounds into picolo, their favorite drinking game. and everyone has a very nice buzz going on. they’re on the caliente version now, so this round should be spicy.

“alright, alright!” tyler laughs, “if calum and y/n kiss, each of you can give out 2 sips. if not, you each have to drink 2 times.” tyler finishes.

her eyes widen. she had no idea what tyler was thinking at this point, the alcohol in his system streaming through everything. nova gives her that look of well! get on with it! she turns to calum, “we don’t have to, we can just drink.” she says, reaching for her cup, but calum stops her.

calum doesn’t say anything but puts his hand on y/n’s cheek, bringing her closer in. her chest is heaving, eyes flickering between his lips and his eyes. he finally closes the gap between the two, lips connecting and light smacking happening.

“it’s about damn time!” luke exclaims. the rest of the group also cheers and laughs. the kiss definitely lasts longer than it’s supposed to, but neither her nor calum mind. calum pulls away but returns for one more peck.

y/n takes her bottom lip between her teeth, racking her brain at the fact that that just happened. calum then gives her temple a kiss and returns his attention back to the game. the game continues giving everyone dares like y/n’s and calum’s, some a little riskier than others, but no one seemed to mind.

“alright alright, how about we change the game to ‘never have i ever’?” ashton suggests. the group agrees. y/n gets up to go grab a bottle of hard liquor and the small shot glasses she bought. she thinks they’re cute, they’re not the red ones like the solo cups, they’re the neon-colored ones. calum follows her to the kitchen.

he wraps one hand around one side of her waist, pulling her close to his front side. she jumps the slightest bit when his hand goes under her sweatshirt and rests for a moment before giving it a squeeze. “how was that kiss?” he whispered in her ear.

she swallowed before answering, “i-i liked it.” she said, her voice very small.

calum turns her around, “i knew you would. you think i don’t notice how you look at me?” lord, y/n thinks she’s about to fucking pass out when he traces the outline of her running shorts.

they walk back, calum’s hand low on her back. as always, she sets everything up, being a little soberer than everyone else. this time, calum sets her right on top of his thigh. she lets a small gasp leave her lips when he moves his lap up for a second. calum sits up, wrapping an arm around her stomach, making her move yet again. the material of her shorts is very thin and with calum knowingly moving his thigh against her core, he could feel what he’s doing to her.

“okay, never have i ever been so crossed i threw up in the basement of the Alpha Phi house,” michael says, clearly taking a hit at someone. y/n sees calum reach for one of the neon cups and takes a shot.

“that was dirty, i’ll get you back.” calum snarls. y/n turns around to calum, raising her brow. “it was freshman year, and those girls have still never let me back in.”

“i’ll go!” nova shouts, “never have i ever had a crush on my brother’s best friend,” she says, looking right at y/n. y/n doesn’t want to reach for a shot and take it, but she also knows that if she doesn’t nova will call her bluff. despite fighting her conscience, she sucks it up and takes a shot. she gives nova daggers while she racks her brain to think of something to get her back.

~

the kickback ended around an hour ago, most of y/n and tyler’s friends had left, and calum had asked tyler if he could sleep on the couch. y/n was still awake, cleaning up everything so her brother wouldn’t have to deal with such a mess in the morning. calum’s been helping y/n clean up, mostly just so he can flirt with her more.

“you know, i never really got a proper kiss from you tonight.” calum says, taking a pile of trash into the bag. y/n stands up, looking at calum.

“what do you mean? we kissed during picolo, how was that not a proper kiss?” she asks, clearly not getting what he’s hinting at.

calum takes her wrist, bringing her over to the kitchen, and sets her on top of the counter. “a proper kiss doesn’t involve all of our friends staring at us and cheering. it’s more like this,” he stops his sentence and goes in for the kiss he’s been talking about.

y/n’s caught off guard for a moment before she relaxes into calum. their lips move rhythmically against each other, their tongues going to explore the mouth of the other. calum places a hand on her thigh while the other is holding her cheek. both of y/n’s arms are around calum’s shoulders, moving closer and making his hand move up higher on her thigh.

they both pull away for a second, calum looks down at where his hand is and looks back up at y/n. she nods her head and brings his lips back down to hers. calum’s fingers make their way into her shorts, just petting over her clit while y/n rotates her hips against his fingers.

“i think we should move to your room, just in case someone decides to come out.” calum whispers.

and y/n can’t wait to see where this takes her.

[infernalshadowtheif]

Synthetic Blood

After taking over her father's company, Lena Luthor spends her time trying to develop a safe man made synthetic blood for medical science and maybe for herself and her kind too of course. You see, Lena is technically human but she is also technically a vampire, well more of a half vampire that's more or less human except for her extra abilities and vitality. As she tries to develop a Blood substitute her brother Lex attempts to steer her away from the light and back down a dark path that has always beckoned her to walk down.

[Look, vampires are kinda cool and I've been meaning to finish this idea that I literally dreamed about last year so let me know if you guys like it, hate it, or have ideas for it yeah? I'll post it on Ao3 later.] Words: 3,036K 🙃

Lillian took the cold metal brush handle in her hand, making it up to her hair, and started to brush through the already smooth tresses of hair on Lena's head.

"On to more pressing matters, it seems we won't be hunting for a while, seeing that the humans are now more aware of our kind since your brother started his little war with the Kryptonians." The aimless brushing continued a bit rougher than before but not painful.

"How are we to feed then mother, how are you going to feed? I am obviously already prepared but I know you prefer straight from the source." There was a slight hesitation in the last stroke of the cold brush.

Lillian set it down slowly almost methodically as she turned away and towards the moonlit window behind them.

Lena looked after the older woman cautiously.

"Mother?"  Wearily she stood from the vanity mirror and closer to Lillian’s side. 

She received a click of a tongue as an answer before she sighed.

"I hated how it reeked on his body, your father I mean, I hated how the smell of artificial blood was always stuck to him, it reminded me of that awful white meat substitute that some humans love in place of real meat."

"Tofu mother," Lena added helpfully as Lillian sneered further at the window and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. 

"Yes, that was it. He always smelled of his fake blood, you already adopted his tendencies to not want to drink from the source of what we need to survive, which is fine but I’ll never understand it." She turned her head to Lena almost puzzled.

“Well mother I know that this situation will be harder but I’ll try and figure something out for us. I'm sure I can maybe synthesize something more to your preferences if need be." 

Lillian wasn't the warmest parent compared to most others but after Lex went on with his blood-war with the aliens, she saw that Lena was more stable than she originally thought, especially compared to her son. So through great effort and shattered pride, she tried her best to bridge the gap between her and her daughter as best as she could, trying to make up for years of neglect and misplaced scorn.

With a defeated sigh Lillian finally turned to look at her youngest,

"Thank you, dear, I know you'll try no matter how many times I say I'll be fine. I just want you to  use that brilliant brain of yours for more than just little old me, I'm content with the choices and endless amount of repenting I have waiting for me when it's time." Lillian never smiled at Lena, at least not often, especially as a child, but the one she gave her at that moment was the best one she'd ever seen.

“I think we all do mother. Thank you for taking care of me and letting me wait out the sun for today, I lost track of time again.” Lena lightly skims her thumb over the still healing blemish on her arm, if she were a full vampire like the rest of the Luthors in her family she would have lost it or simply turned to dust as her father did.

“Any time dear, this is still your home too, no matter what your brother claims.”

Lena almost cries, such simple words that her past self would have never dreamed of hearing from the woman before her, Lena simply nods in acknowledgment and heads back out to her car to get back to her apartment.

The drive back to National City is quiet, the long highway back lets her mind playback the hellish day she had, to say she’s dreading the minute she has to see the cities resident Super would be an understatement.

She saw me, I know she saw what I’m capable of. Or at least that I'm definitely NOT human. 

Lena’s thoughts turn darker as she imagines the red-caped hero’s look of repulsion and utter hate when she does truly figure out that she’s a creature of the dark, or, at least half of one.

Her mind spirals further down the dark hole of fear of what she will do with her, so much so that she missed the new set of headlights quickly coming closer in her side-view mirror.

When it finally caught enough to slam into her back bumper she quickly snaps out of it and tries to keep her own car on the road and away from the sheer drop of the mountainside to her right.

“Fuck! Now, what!?” The vehicle sways again as the car behind her clashes into hers, she took one of her more pedestrian cars today so her usual horsepower she’d use to escape is severely lacking this time as another hit on her life is in motion again this week. 

So much for going incognito.

The shattering of her rear window makes her jump, the side of her car slamming right into the metal railing, seeing the lack of ground on the other side has her heart drop right into her stomach as she tries to get control again. 

Big nope to that.

Another pop was registered in Lena’s brain as she finally lost control of her car, her vision spinning just as quickly as the car itself.

“Fuckfuckfuck! I swear, I'm going to stake you myself when I deal with your pets, Lex!” Sweating out of panic, Lena decides that trying to outspeed them won’t happen while in her brick ford car, she figures that she just might have to use some of her power for this one.

Her car makes a sudden stop as the front end crashes through the metal railing at the edge of the road, she was lucky the car became wedged into the twisted metal otherwise she would have had a very unfortunate freefall over the cliff.

Dizzyingly, Lena pries her hands from the steering wheel, her death grip making her bones ache as she tried for her seatbelt next. The sound of car doors slamming shut jumpstarts her heartrate, flooding her system with adrenaline. 

The shadows in the headlights get closer, the sound of a gun reloading, four sets of boots crunching on gravel as they round her car on both sides. 

She is actually scared now, her right shoulder twinges painfully as she tries to rip out the buckle of her seatbelt, “Ah, shit.” They actually hit her it seems, her white blouse is starting to bleed red down her arm the more she struggles on the belt.

A balding man crouches down into her window, his eyes are glazed over, his face is twisted into a sickening grin. “Hello halfy,” He sneers. “Your big brother wanted us to check in on you this fine night, he was deathly worried for your health as of late.” 

His gaze snaps to her bloody shoulder fixated on it for a second or so as he takes a deep breath of warm fresh blood, his dull eyes start to pool red as he takes another lung full of bloody air.

Lena shudders in disgust tilting her face away from his, he reeks of death and rot, ghouls were her least favorite creature that her brother had in his employ.

“Enjoying ourselves are we?” She mutters as his eyes roll open again.

He hums in delight. “He did say your blood was more or less mortal, it's almost humanly sweet.” his smile widens, some kind of old meat seemingly stuck in his teeth and gums as he appraises the state of her and her battered car. “Shame you didn't drive your nicer car, we could have stripped it for parts, but ah, oh well. We’re only here for you tonight then sadly.” 

A creaking noise shook the car as he ripped her driver’s door clean off its hinges, Lenas heightened smell was shocked by a wall of death the bald man oozed when he leaned in to free her of her seatbelt and dragged her out of the car by the scruff of her blouse.

Still dazed and newly freed from the metal deathtrap, Lena saw this as her last chance to try and escape from her brother’s lackeys. “I may smell human but by no means does that mean that I’m weak like one.” Latching onto the ghoul’s arm with shaking hands, Lena uses his own weight to counterbalance them both into the loose dirt and flipped herself over again to grab for his throat. She hates to use it but her power has to be used now before what little blood she does drink wears off and leaves her completely defenseless, she’ll have to kill him quickly.

His body starts to convulse as she uses her hand to tear into his fragile throat, black rotten blood oozing over her fingers as his body finally stops thrashing about. She’s still aware of the three heartbeats of the other goons as she finally stands up, her glowing eyes lock onto a man with mousy brown hair, his own eyes are terrified. They all are.

These ones are all human, two are just boys compared to her own age, and they’re all frozen stock still like rabbits to a fox.

Lena is shaking, she doesn’t kill humans, she won’t stoop to her brother’s level. “Leave, go home and forget about this whole night, I don't want to kill any of you. This man was not human, he likely would have eaten you all after my death so take this as an act of mercy. Please.”

The youngest is seems to want no part so he tossed down his weapon and dragged the other two back to their vehicle, the older ones still frozen and staring at the rapidly decaying body of the now-dead ghoul. “Let’s get the hell out of here guys!”

The car ripped out and back onto the highway leaving a wobbly and drained Lena in the dust, “Ugh!” She shrieks in anger as she kicks the rotten body in her rage. 

Before she can take out more of her frustration on the dead ghoul she hears a familiar chime of her phone’s ringtone, or more specifically, Karas ringtone. 

“Shit. Movie night, I was supposed to be at Karas tonight.” Grumbling as she whipped her bloody hand on her jeans, she bent over to pick up her cracked phone to answer her friend.

“Lena?” Lena sighed, “Hi Kara, I'm sorry for not calling you back, I seem to have run into some car trouble on my way to yours.” Glancing over to her clearly totaled car she winced at the sight of it, “Well more like it's completely totaled now.”

On Karas’s end of the line, she heard a crash and rushing of footsteps, “Ohmygosh! Are you okay Lena?? Where are you, I can come to get you or send my friend to help? Please tell me you’re okay..”

The brunette felt her eyes well up with tears, she really didn't deserve this human known as Kara Danvers, she really didn't. 

“I'm off of creek falls and the main highway near the cliff drop, I'm no worse for wear sort of, I'm standing on my own two feet at the moment so I’d say ok, for now anyway, I definitely need a shower and a lot of sleep after this though.” Lena tried to joke but didn't hear Kara anymore, just a rush of air against the microphone.

Confused Lena checks the line, “Kara? Are you still there?” 

“Y-yeah Lena I'm still here, um, please don't be mad." Now that made Lena pause. "What? Why would I be mad at you?" 

The wind in the earpiece lighted up a bit, "I'm almost there, I'm picking you up, I called Alex she'll be on her way too okay? Was there another car involved or an animal run across the road?" Panic gripped at Lena, Kara can't see this mess! Let alone the rotting ghoul body at her feet, she wouldn't understand!

"Kara, wait, it’s alright I already called the authorities and everything, it'll take a bit but I'm fine right now, also don't drive while on the phone! I don't want to be the cause of yet another accident tonight." Lena hear Kara scoff into the phone, "Thank you for the concern, but I'm definitely not driving, I don't even have a permit." She chuckled at her own expense.

Another pause.

"I'll be fine, just promise not to be mad when you see me? Yelling is fine but don't hate me, please." Anxiety wasn't a common thing for Lena but right now she can feel it clawing up her throat and she swallowed down her guilt of having her sweet fragile Kara seeing what her own monstrous hands are capable of. 

She trusts Kara with her life, she'll have to trust her with her dark secret now. "Only if you promise me the same, it’s a mess over here and I'm certain that it'll be horrific for you to see why." 

Kara hummed in thought for a second, "Well duh, I could never hate you Lena, or any other bad emotion towards you really." She said carefully like if she said it louder Lena wouldn't believe her.

"Ah wait, I think I see you? Oh." Kara whispered then the line went dead.

Lena was sitting hunched against her busted car, looking around confused at the lack of vehicle, Kara nowhere in sight. Letting out a ragged breath Lena let her head fall back with her eyes closed, praying that Kara would listen to her explain the scene before her.

The brunette’s eyes snapped open when she felt a warm hand on her good shoulder, to say she almost shit a brick would be putting it very lightly because right before her was Supergirl, but in Kara Danvers' sweats, T-shirt, and a very red cape with no socks or shoes to top it all off. Being shocked would be a very light word for how Lena is at that moment. 

Super- uh, Kara is pretty much herself while she looks Lena over,  making soft cooing noises as she checks over each scrape and bruise, she all but balls her eyes out when she shifts Lena's shirt to check the gunshot wound. 

"Lena, Rao, I should have listened further out for you, if I was listening I could have stopped this." Lena was a bit slow to process her words but she quickly bounced back and stupidly asked, “Kara? You’re not human?” Kara stilled her hands, “Yeah. I'm sorry I kept it from you ‘till now, I just could never find the right moment to tell you. I was going to try again tonight if that’s  worth anything.” 

Kara did look nervous, wary that Lena was angry about her lying for so long, but instead of being angry Lena just full body laughed at their predicament.

As light tears started to form in Lena's eyes Kara nervously held the brunette's hand. "Lena? I don't know if laughing should make me feel nervous or happy right now." 

Lena chuckled a couple more times and pulled the blonde into a relieved hug. "I've been an idiot, I've been trying to bring up the fact that I'm not human either for the past year Kara, so right now I think it's a bit ridiculous that you've been worrying about the same thing." Lena definitely didn't miss the full bodied twitch Kara did after hearing her say this, she understood though, Lena is technically human but only partially. It was briefly a one sided embrace until Kara hugged her back with almost all her strength, leaving Lena only mildly squished but overall content.

Their little bubble was immediately burst when a black SUV pulled up to blind the two of them, a bedraggled Alex dressed in her own pajamas and combat boots holding a shovel, "Kara. Tell me why did you text me 911 please  bring a shovel! At 1 am Kara- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??" 

Alex is out of her car and right by Kara's side almost instantly when the once thought to be dead ghoul flips onto its side to drag its to Lena, grossly gurgling its black blood as it crawls over to the trio.

"That would be what's left of my brother's newest hit and sent to check in on me. He's a ghoul so I probably should have made sure to take the whole head off inside of ripping her throat out." Lena extracts herself from an equally shocked Kara and tugs the shovel out of Alex's limp fingers, "Please pardon me, I'll give it right back." 

Alex looks at her dumbfounded, Lena shrugs as she turns back to the ghoul clearly annoyed beyond belief. "I would say have a nice trip given that you're going straight to hell but I really don't appreciate what you did to my car, " she glances over at the once upon a time pristine white paint job and cringes at the many bullet holes and scratches.

"Actually I'm more pissed that I had to meet you at all, so, bye now." 

She raised the shovel as high as she could with her good arm and swung down with all of her might, the ghoul let out one last hiss as the head fell from his body. 

Exhausted Lena looks back at the gawking Danvers sisters, "Help me clean this up and I'll get you both whatever food you want and could eat for a month?" She was almost certain Alex was going to shoot her up until that offer was in play, both sisters bolted up and came over to help.

"You're also going to fill us in about whatever the hell that thing was and why he worked for your brother." Alex stated as she waved her hand in Lena's direction in an almost protective voice.

"And about the not human thing." Kara mumbled as she grabbed the creatures legs over to the deepening hold Alex was currently working on.

With a big sigh of relief Lena nodded, vowing to answer whatever her two friends asked her.

"Deal."

[libermachinae]

Lost Light/Rodimus

Notes: No, I don’t mean the crew. Unedited bc I’ve already spent way more time on this crack fic than I meant to. Rated G, no warnings apply, 2K.

---

It wasn’t Brainstorm’s fault, entirely.

“How the hell did you make a metrotitan spark?”

Just mostly.

“Well, it’s actually an extremely complicated, delicate, precise procedure,” Brainstorm said as they ran for their lives through shifting, narrowing corridors, Rodimus’ engine gunning to keep up with the jet. “It’s something other scientists have been trying to crack since before the war started, but between the exact measurements of the photonic supercrystal and the pattern of coding charges, no one else ever managed to—”

“Okay, forget how!” Rodimus shouted. “I don’t care about how! Or why! Or even at what point you decided to make a massive t-cog to go with it—”

“Actually, Perceptor cracked that one.”

“—or how you got it past Riptide and the rest of security! I don’t care!” A wall appeared front of them; Rodimus swerved around it while Brainstorm pulled into a neat roll. A wingtip brushed Rodimus’ roof. “Assuming we survive this any other way than First Aid scraping our pancaked frames off a random corridor wall, you’re going to tell the whole story to Megatron, and he can use all the practice he’s had with me to tell you exactly how terrible an idea this was.”

“Pancaked?”

“Earth term. Watch out!”

The hallway to the shuttle bay disappeared behind two shifting plates, and Rodimus had just enough time to brake and avoid being crushed. Brainstorm pulled up and transformed, landing at Rodimus’ side.

“Oh, this isn’t good,” he said.

“No kidding?” Rodimus angled his mirrors to look around, but every glance just revealed fewer directions to escape to. “We’re trapped.”

“Not that,” Brainstorm said. “We’re in the abdomen.”

“Belly of the ship, sure.”

“In root mode, the Lost Light’s power core is situated in the lower decks, under multiple layers of plating and insulation to keep the heat from frying everyone around it.” Brainstorm traced a small circle on the plating just underneath his cockpit, then drew it up, toward his chest. “When Perceptor was designing the transformation sequence, though, we couldn’t quite work out how to transport the core with all its extra plating. So, we just, hm, put a pin in it.”

Rodimus stared.

“So, what you’re saying is—”

Brainstorm pointed to the ceiling.

“The power core is one level above us right now. As soon as the transformation sequence is completed, it’s going to come online. The Lost Light’s designed to handle that kind of output, but not standard Cybertronians.”

“So, right now, this moment, we’re standing in the smelter, waiting for it to come on.”

“More like in front of the smelter after the blast doors have malfunctioned, but yeah.”

“Okay!” Rodimus revved his engine. “Well, that’s no good! We’re getting out of here.” He glanced around again. The walls were thick, but there had to be a weakness somewhere. “Don’t you have a drill gun? Or a drill you reformatted into a gun that can still be used as a drill?”

“I have a regular gun.”

“You do not.”

“I do!” Brainstorm insisted, pulling the standard issue pistol from subspace. “I was just about to see if I could do something about the problem of a finite ammo capacity (spoiler, I could’ve) when Light’s t-cog started spinning. I have others on me, but nothing that’s gotten the Perceptor stamp yet.”

“Everything else you’ve got will kill us if we fire it?”

“Might,” Brainstorm corrected, “they might kill you. Percy just hasn’t had time to test them yet.”

“Okay, fine.” Rodimus glanced around once more, optics falling on one feature he’d thus far overlooked. “You know what? We can work with this.”

  It’s a simple fact that if you’re desperate to have floor-to-ceiling windows along the vehicle-accessible corridors of your miles-wide spaceship, they’re going to need to be reinforced. Heavily. A full round of shots fired at point-blank from a non-infinite pistol might be enough to get a crack in it, but that’s about it.

Of course, if you then ram that crack with a Matrix-armored sports car dropped from the undercarriage of a speeding jet, you might get somewhere.

Rodimus hit the window bumper-first, vibrations from the impact traveling in both directions throughout his frame. Whatever he was feeling, though, the window was having a much worse time: the crack stretched and exploded, shards of glass whipping out into the empty density of space. Rodimus went with them, and for a brief second he feared he would never stop going, before strong arms and the sound of thrusters secured him.

::We’re alive!:: Brainstorm’s comm crackled to life in his audial. ::And assuming at least a couple people listened to Minimus’ instructions, we should be looking at a good—oh frag.::

::What? How bad is it?:: Rodimus tried to angle his mirrors, but two teal wings blocked his view.

::It’s fine! Don’t worry!::

::That’s my ship, Brainstorm, of course I’m going to worry!::

::It’s alright, Rodimus.::

::Who was—::

A white hand appeared in front of them, large enough that Rodimus could have done donuts on its palm, large enough to punch a moon clear through. Brainstorm’s thrusters were straining to slow them down while Rodimus’ emergency brake slammed on, but momentum seemed committed to mashing them like a reverse rustbug.

The hand shifted, flipping over so the palm was underneath Rodimus, scooping up until his tires were just skidding across the metal surface. Forgetting to release his brake, his swerved before he came to a stop, swinging around and taking in the full view of his ship as, with a final ripple, her plating shifted into place.

She glowed. From the fuel rods around the corona of her helm and the winding lanes of windows around her arms, legs, and sides, light streamed from her, but not so much that she hurt to look at. Her optic band was a solid magenta and, Rodimus suspected, unseeing, but even that gave off a light that drew the eye, even as Rodimus felt the increased pressure of the hand lifting them up. In their ascent, they passed her chestpiece, the bow of the ship, and through the viewscreen Rodimus saw a decent portion of his crew, staring back out at him.

They came to a halt in front of her faceplate, and from this distance Rodimus could see the wavering patterns of optical lights, perhaps attempting to generate an expression. Ratchet would demand a look at Perceptor’s coding, he thought, a moment before the Lost Light’s voice returned.

::Hello, Rodimus, Brainstorm.::

::You gave her a comm suite?:: Rodimus asked, glancing at Brainstorm.

::Didn’t you check the ident?:: Brainstorm returned. ::She’s using the communications hub.::

::Oh.:: He glanced at her again. ::Can you access all of our major systems like that?::

::Yes.::

::Cool. Neat.:: An independent Cybertronian with the ability to quantum jump. And they’d been doing so well staying off the bad side of this reality’s Galactic Council.

::Do you have a name?:: he asked.

The optic lights wavered, shifting without meaning.

::Of course,:: she said. ::Drift named me Lost Light.::

Rodimus spluttered.

::How do you know that?::

::I have complete access to all in-network records,:: she said. ::My ‘memories’ extend as far back as my registration five million years ago, though they become more comprehensive within the last several decades, starting with the commencement of your quest.::

::Anything anyone ever dispersed via in-house networks, saved to a private console, or was automatically logged by the systems is up for grabs,:: Brainstorm said. ::Makes introductions pretty simple, at least.::

::Sounds like a fancy way of saying she’s got the worst possible first impression of everyone, but sure, that’s an optimistic way of looking at it.:: Brainstorm had climbed off him, so he transformed and took two steps forward. ::I’m Rodimus, your co-captain. Though, you already seem to know that.::

::Yes. I know all of you.:: For a moment, Rodimus thought they were moving again, but it was the large helm tilting forward. ::Thank you, by the way, Brainstorm. Though I unfortunately agree with Minimus Ambus’ preliminary assessment of your actions, I do appreciate this opportunity to be alive.::

::Like creator, like creation, I guess!::

::Wait, you talked with Minimus?:: Rodimus asked.

::Of course. I’m speaking to everyone right now,:: Lost Light said. ::I’ve been looking forward to this.::

::Wow. You’re either going to be Swerve and Misfire’s missing trinemate, or their biggest competition.::

::I do not find either of those options appealing.::

::Oh, yeah, that’s fine!:: He waved his hands. ::Just a joke. You can do whatever you want, now, you’re your own bot. Well, within reason, I guess. We might need to make another new officer position for you, and then—::

::I will continue to perform my duties, Rodimus. You have no need to worry in that regard.::

::Oh, good.:: Rodimus’ spoiler sagged and a few bubbles of trapped air escape his vents. Brainstorm’s scheme hadn’t dehomed them, at least.

::If you wouldn’t mind hearing it, I do have a request.::

Rodimus’ spoiler twitched back up.

::Sure!:: he said. ::After everything we’ve put you through, we owe you, huh?::

::I would prefer you not consider it that way,:: she said. The connection crystalized and strengthened into a private transfer as Lost Light cleaved Brainstorm into his own channel. ::After reviewing the records, I find I admire you, Rodimus.::

He stared.

::Oh?::

::Despite what you call a poor first impression, I have observed a crew that cares for each other and looks after its most vulnerable, with you as the spark that inspires such communal behavior. You act for the good of others, you encourage selflessness and self-improvement. Does that sound correct?::

There was nothing to hide behind on the palm of her hand. That observation could not kill Rodimus’ instinct to flee.

::I, uh. I don’t know?::

A flicker around the optic band again.

::Oh. My apologies. I have only just started to engage in pattern recognition, and it is possible my assessment is—::

::It’s fine!:: Rodimus assured. ::Sorry, you did fine. Um, yeah, I guess you could say all those things about me. Not everyone would, but if that’s what the logs are telling you, you should trust your instincts. Maybe just like, make sure to update them with your own observations?::

::Acknowledged.:: There was a pause, and Rodimus imagined she was sorting the suggestion among her priority trees. ::I will maintain my assessments as an ongoing process. However, if I am utilizing my initial understanding of each crew member as a basis to form a more informed conception of their character, then it is logical to assume that there must be some element of validity to my initial evaluations, correct?::

::Uh, sure?::

::Excellent.:: Her whole visor brightened, a straightforward positive that must have been easier for her programming to calculate than the emotions it had been trying to convey before. ::Then it is not unreasonable for me to hold to my initial conviction that I admire you, Rodimus. If you have time, I would like to get to know you better.::

::Huh. Uh.:: He hated to make assumptions, but the way her visor sparkled seemed more coordinated now. ::Can you give me one moment?::

::Of course.::

He hopped into a channel so well worn it felt like sinking into his own thoughts.

::Rodimus? Are you okay?::

::I’m fine, Drift,:: he said. ::Just, uh, need some advice.::

::Just advice? Not a rescue? Rewind and Perceptor managed to map out a way down to the shuttle bay, if you need an out.::

::No, no,:: he insisted. ::I’m just… I really don’t want to assume anything, but I think it’s possible my ship just asked me out?::

::Oh, yeah.::

::Oh, yeah?::

::I mean, she did,:: Drift said. ::Before you and Brainstorm broke free, she commed everyone, introduced herself, told them her favorite thing she knew about them, then asked about you.::

::Do I… want to know what she asked about?::

::Depended on the person. Swerve got interrogated about whether you’re available.::

::Swerve?::

::The Lost Light Insider pegged him for a rumor monger and she ran with it.::

::Cool. Great.::

::Hey. Really, you okay up there? Tailgate’s halfway through the vents, we can come get you, if you need.::

Rodimus pointed his gaze down to the deck, though he was too far away to see anyone individually. It was possible the ship’s exterior cameras were still streaming to the command screens, in which case Drift would undoubtedly catch his disapproval.

::Please make sure Tailgate doesn’t get squished, I don’t need Cyclonus seeking vengeance against our ship.::

::Sure. But seriously, Rodimus, are you okay?::

Rodimus spun his wheels with a flick.

::I’m fine. I just… isn’t this, I don’t know, kind of taking advantage?::

::I mean, she asked you, and—wait, are you interested?::

His engine heated up and Rodimus started to pace.

::I don’t know! Maybe?::

::Aw, Rodimus!:: He could imagine Drift’s face: goofy smile, softly dimmed optics. ::Hang on, I’m patching Ratchet in.::

::No, hang on, you don’t have to—::

::You’re saying yes?:: Ratchet demanded as the new connection crackled through.

::I don’t know,:: Rodimus insisted. ::I could? She’s attractive. And she knows a lot about me and hasn’t decided I’m worthless slag.::

::Rodimus,:: Drift chided.

::Hey, look, I’m not saying that about myself,:: he countered. ::Just that it’s a conclusion she could have come to, but didn’t. And I guess I kind of like that?:: He shrugged. ::I wouldn’t mind getting to know her. First new Cybertronian we’ll meet for a long time, you know?::

::Sure,:: Ratchet said. ::Follow her lead, but be up front about your expectations.::

::Both of you will have bots looking out for you,:: Drift promised. ::Seems like she and Nautica are already hitting it off pretty well.::

::Alright.:: Rodimus smiled. ::Okay, thanks guys. I think I can handle it from here.::

::Sure you can,:: Drift said.

Rodimus cut the call and switched back to Lost Light’s channel. Brainstorm was wandering around behind him, still engaged in his own animated conversation with his creation.

::Still with me?:: he asked.

::Of course.::

::Great,:: he said, offering her a smile and a flicker of his headlights. ::So, yeah, I’m down to spend more time together.:: He leaned down until he was sitting, crosslegged, on her open palm, brushing the smooth metal with his own hand. ::You can tell me all about what it was like that time we were getting chased by space pirates.::

::I look forward to it,:: she said. The platform of her hand drifted closer, until Rodimus could have reached out and brushed his fingertips against his facemask. He could have felt afraid, then, but he didn’t. Instead, he felt a warm light in his spark as he regarded Light, the familiarity and comfort that came with meeting an old friend face to face for the first time.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 6: A New Hope

by @dracusfyre

A week or so later, Bucky met KT up for their usual shift and was surprised to see that the normally taciturn man was visibly excited, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited. “What’s up?” Bucky asked, curiosity driving him to jog across traffic to see what had KT so worked up.

“It’s Community Appreciation Day,” KT said, jerking his head towards Tony’s garage a few blocks away. His legs were shorter than Bucky’s but excitement was making him walk fast enough that Bucky had to make an effort to keep up.

“Community Appreciation Day?” Bucky repeated incredulously. "What is that?"

"What does it sound like, doofus?" KT said, but he was in too good of a mood for his words to have any heat.

Bucky shook his head. Of course Tony had community appreciation days. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if Tony had an EEOC office and regular OSHA inspections and celebrated Office Professional's Day. "I'm just surprised I hadn't heard of it before now."

“Yeah, they're usually on real short notice. The Engineer brought in a shipment late last night so the Boss spread the word that we were having a party.”

Now Bucky was even more confused. He knew from the case file that the Engineer ran Tony’s chop shop operations, stealing high end automobiles and helping them disappear, whole or in pieces, on the black market. What that had to do with appreciating the community Bucky had no idea; it’s not like Tony was giving away the cars he stole…right? 

When they nodded to Tony’s guards and pushed open the door to the garage, Bucky’s jaw dropped. In the wide open space, where there was usually a variety of half-built classic cars, there was instead half a dozen sleek, low slung cars that looked like they were breaking the speed limit just sitting there. He recognized the logo for Ferrari and Lamborghini but the rest he’d never even heard of before. Most of them had their hoods up for car enthusiasts to drool over the high-performance engines and Bucky felt his heart start to beat faster as he left KT behind to look at the Lamborghini. He hadn’t really had his hands on a car engine since he joined the Army, other than doing his own routine maintenance, but looking at the ridiculously high-powered engine on this car was like seeing the face of God.

“Look at you, you sexy beast,” Bucky murmured, running a hand over the gleaming engine block. It was like it had barely been driven, it was so clean. “You’re sex on wheels, that’s what you are.”

“Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just really into cars?”

Bucky turned and his heart flipped when he saw Tony smiling at him, wearing a suit with an AC/DC shirt underneath. Tony pushed his glasses up onto his head and leaned his hip on the car’s bumper, hands in his pockets as he studied Bucky with what looked like fond amusement. “This thing is like the Mona Lisa of cars,” Bucky said, feeling strangely shy. This was the first time he’d seen Tony since the night of the ball and he suddenly, stupidly, wished he had shaved and worn his nice jeans.

“This one is nice,” Tony agreed, “but that one is my favorite.” He gestured with his chin towards the bright red Ferrari across the room, scissor doors opened up and away from the car like fiery wings.

“I can see that, it’s definitely your style.”

“Follow me, one came in that I think is your style,” Tony said, pushing off the car.

“Yeah?” Bucky was intrigued and flattered as Tony led him through the crowd of people. “Which one- Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker,” he blurted when they stopped in front the most goddamn beautiful car he’d ever seen.

“The Bugatti La Voiture Noire,” Tony said, but his eyes were on Bucky’s face, not the car. “0 to 60 in 2.5 seconds, with 1,180 pounds of torque. Top speed of 261 miles an hour.”

Bucky whistled, long and low. “It looks like the Batmobile,” he said, smiling when he surprised a laugh out of Tony. “If a ninja was a car, it would be this car.”

Tony started to say something, but at that moment came the sound of someone tapping on a microphone. “Hello?” Bucky heard someone say. “Mr. Stark, are you ready?”

With an apologetic glance to Bucky, Tony jogged up to where they had made a makeshift stage out of a metal table. Tony climbed on top and took the microphone. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, sliding his sunglasses over his eyes as his grin grew wide and polished. “Are you ready for everyone’s favorite day of the quarter?” The crowd, which had quieted and turned to face Tony, cheered. “I know, me too. As you can see, there are six cars, so there will be six MVPs named today. As your name is called, winners, come up to take a bow and tell us which car you will be taking for a test drive before they all move on to their new owners.”

“That’s the reward?” Bucky said with surprise to no one in particular. “You get to drive the cars? Where?”

“The Boss rents out a racetrack,” the guy next to him said. “You get to drive it for thirty minutes. Or you can just take the cash prize, if you aren’t interested in the cars or don’t know how to drive.”

“Let’s take a minute to get to know our guests,” Tony was saying. “The sexy red beauty is a Ferrari LaFerrari, a lame name for a nice car. This particular one used to be owned by Mark Zuckerburg, purchased for $1.4 million with the proceeds of selling Facebook user data to over 150 companies. Proceeds from its resale is going to the Free Internet Project.” There was enthusiastic applause, then he gestured towards the Bugatti. “This fucking amazing car is a Bugatti La Voiture Noire, the most expensive car on the planet at $18 million. Jeff Bezos commissioned this car even as workers in Amazon warehouses were passing out from exhaustion while working for minimum wage. Proceeds from the sale of this pinnacle of human engineering will go to help Amazon workers unionize for better working conditions.” Each car in the warehouse had a similar story, and Bucky couldn’t help booing and cheering with the crowd as he heard each story.

“But enough of those assholes,” Tony said, waving for the crowd to get quiet. “Let’s hear about our heroes. First is Harley Keener, who has worked tirelessly to set up our own free neighborhood broadband using satellite dishes he made himself; it’s making ISPs in the city big mad, as the kids say, but we’ve got higher and more consistent speeds than they provide so they can suck it, right? It’s not like they were laying fiber here anyway.” As he spoke, a teenager came up and Tony gave him a hand to help him climb onto the table. There was applause, and the kid picked the Lamborghini, and hopped down off the table with a check and a certificate from the Maria Stark Foundation. The rest of the projects were in the same vein: a woman who set up a program to encourage stores and restaurants to donate excess food to soup kitchens and shelters to reduce food waste ("I know it's against the law, but it's a stupid law so we've elected to ignore it"); an older Black man who got the city to put in new solar-powered bus stops at safer and more convenient locations; and a principal who had a 100% graduation rate for the first time in the school’s history, among others. “And every senior was registered to vote as they got their diploma,” Tony added. “Great work, everyone! Winners, I’ll see you soon for your test drives, and for everyone else make sure you eat all this food, boxes are at the end of the table for you to take some home.” There was another round of applause, the biggest one yet, as Tony handed the microphone to Happy and climbed off the table.

“You’re just a regular Robin Hood, aren’t you?” Bucky said when Tony found him again, this time holding a plate full of chicken wings, donuts, and assorted fruit. “Stealing from the rich to give to the poor?”

“I like to think of myself as an instrument of poetic justice,” Tony said around a mouthful of food. “I used to steal them and wreck them, but I realized this was more fitting.”

Bucky knew he shouldn’t be quite so amused about six counts of grand – very grand – theft auto, but it was hard not to smile at the smug look on Tony’s face while he had powdered sugar in his goatee.  As someone pulled Tony away with a question, Bucky felt his phone buzz with a notification. He moved closer to the wall as he pulled it out to check his messages.

Gonna be a party tonight, his Discord contact had written, along with an address. A very familiar address, since he was standing right at it. You gonna be there?

Bucky stared at the message and sagged against the wall as his stomach sank. Glancing up at the cars, he realized that the police must have gotten a tipoff that the cars were incoming and were planning to raid the garage tonight, before they disappeared again. The message wasn’t an invitation, it was a warning for him to stay away so his cover wouldn’t get blown. “Shit,” he said, and wiped a hand over his face as he thought furiously.   

“What’s up?” Tony asked, licking wing sauce off his fingers. “You look like you got bad news.”

Bucky stared at him for a moment and realized that there was no way he was going to let Tony get arrested, no way he was going to let him go to jail or let his name get dragged through the mud and see everything he'd built get torn apart by rival gangs. “Want to go on a date?” he blurted.

Tony’s face went slack with shock. “A date?” He blinked at Bucky for a long time, mouth quirking, before his face suddenly fell. “I can’t. You’re an employee,” he said regretfully.

“Seriously?” This guy, for crying out loud. “Ok, uh…” Bucky thought fast. “What about an employee counseling session? With food? We can talk about my, um, five year career plan.”

“Five year plan.” Tony stared at him with amused disbelief. “Ok, sure. Let’s do some employee counseling. When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Tony repeated, clearly fishing for an explanation but Bucky couldn’t think of a good one so he just shrugged. “Alright,” he said slowly. “Far be it from me to discourage people from having life goals. Let’s say 8:00?”

“Sounds great,” Bucky said, trying and probably failing to keep the relief out of his voice.

“Ok, I’ll pick you up.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” Bucky stood around awkwardly for a moment, then nodded stiffly and walked away. If he was going to have an identity crisis and second guess every decision he’d made in life that had led to him asking an organized crime boss out on a date, he should probably do it in privacy and hopefully get it done with by 8.

Baffled, Tony watched Blue Eyes hurry away, running the conversation over in his head until suddenly realization dawned. Then he found himself smiling so widely his cheeks hurt; joy was like champagne bubbles in his chest, making him want to laugh for no particular reason. He tossed his half-empty plate of food into the closest trashcan and threaded through the crowd until he found Rhodey leaning against the door, typing something one handed into his work tablet.

“Rhodey,” Tony said, beaming.

“Tony,” Rhodey said, looking up warily.

“Blue Eyes wants to have dinner with me. And it has to be tonight.”

Rhodey frowned. “But tonight is-”

“Exactly.”

Rhodey took one look at the beatific look on Tony’s face and started shaking his head. “Tony, no,” he said in warning.

“Tony, yes. He’s trying to protect me, Rhodey.” Tony felt downright giddy.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do! He knows the police are going to raid the garage tonight and he doesn’t want me here when it happens so I don’t get arrested for possession of stolen property. It’s so goddamn romantic I can’t stand it.” Brooks, or whatever the hell his real name was, couldn’t know that Tony had contacts inside every major law enforcement organization operating in the city and had known about the raid almost as soon as they had applied for a warrant. The stolen cars were already being prepared to be moved to a separate location, and in their place were going to be the exact same models all purchased legally and in Tony’s name. Pepper and her army of lawyers had already prepared righteously indignant press releases and harassment lawsuits and were just waiting for the cops to show up. Tony had even picked his outfit for his brief stint in jail, but apparently now he had other plans for the evening. “You know what this means, right?”

“I know what you think it means, Tony, and I still think you should be careful. He is still a cop.”

Tony planted a loud, smacking kiss on Rhodey’s cheek. “You can’t take this from me, sour puss. I might get to keep Blue Eyes after all!”

[96harmony96]

Chapter one.

“We should head to a bar and celebrate.”

I wasn’t surprised by my roommate’s emphatic pronouncement. Cary Taylor found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I’d always considered it part of his charm. “I’m sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”

“Come on, camila.” Cary sat on our new living room floor amid a half-dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We’d been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built, dark-haired, and green-eyed, Cary was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn’t been the dearest person on earth to me.

“I’m not talking about a bender,” he insisted. “Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit a happy hour and be in by eight.”

“I don’t know if I’ll make it back in time.” I gestured at my yoga pants and fitted workout tank. “After I time the walk to work, I’m going to hit the gym.”

“Walk fast, work out faster.” Cary’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. I fully expected his million-dollar face to appear on billboards and fashion magazines all over the world one day. No matter his expression, he was a knockout.

“How about tomorrow after work?” I offered as a substitute. “If I make it through the day, that’ll be worth celebrating.”

“Deal. I’m breaking in the new kitchen for dinner.”

“Uh…” Cooking was one of Cary’s joys, but it wasn’t one of his talents. “Great.”

Blowing a wayward strand of hair off his face, he grinned at me. “We’ve got a kitchen most restaurants would kill for. There’s no way to screw up a meal in there.”

Dubious, I headed out with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about cooking. Taking the elevator down to the first floor, I smiled at the doorman when he let me out to the street with a flourish.

The moment I stepped outside, the smells and sounds of Manhattan embraced me and invited me to explore. I was not merely across the country from my former home in San Diego, but seemingly worlds away. Two major metropolises—one endlessly temperate and sensually lazy, the other teeming with life and frenetic energy. In my dreams, I’d imagining living in a walkup in Brooklyn, but being a dutiful daughter, I found myself on the Upper West Side instead. If not for Cary living with me, I would’ve been miserably lonely in the sprawling apartment that cost more per month than most people made in a year.

The doorman tipped his hat to me. “Good evening, Miss Cabello. Will you need a cab this evening?”

“No thanks, Paul.” I rocked onto the rounded heels of my fitness shoes. “I’ll be walking.”

He smiled. “It’s cooled down from this afternoon. Should be nice.”

“I’ve been told I should enjoy the June weather before it gets wicked hot.”

“Very good advice, Miss Cabello.”

Stepping out from under the modern glass entrance overhang that somehow meshed with the age of the building and its neighbors, I enjoyed the relative quiet of my tree-lined street before I reached the bustle and flow of traffic on Broadway. One day soon, I hoped to blend right in, but for now I still felt like a fraudulent New Yorker. I had the address and the job, but I was still wary of the subway and had trouble hailing cabs. I tried not to walk around wide-eyed and distracted, but it was hard. There was just so much to see and experience.

The sensory input was astonishing—the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed with food from vendor carts, the shouts of hawkers blended with music from street entertainers, the awe-inspiring range of

faces and styles and accents, the gorgeous architectural wonders…And the cars. Jesus Christ. The frenetic flow of tightly packed cars was unlike anything I’d ever seen anywhere.

There was always an ambulance, patrol car, or fire engine trying to part the flood of yellow taxis with the electronic wail of ear-splitting sirens. I was in awe of the lumbering garbage trucks that navigated tiny one-way streets and the package delivery drivers who braved the bumper-to-bumper traffic while facing rigid deadlines.

Real New Yorkers cruised right through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as a favorite pair of shoes. They didn’t view the steam billowing from potholes and vents in the sidewalks with romantic delight and they didn’t blink an eye when the ground vibrated beneath their feet as the subway roared by below, while I grinned like an idiot and flexed my toes. New York was a brand new love affair for me. I was starry-eyed and it showed.

So I had to really work at playing it cool as I made my way over to the building where I would be working. As far as my job went, at least, I’d gotten my way. I wanted to make a living based on my own merits and that meant an entry-level position. Starting the next morning, I would be the assistant to Mark Garrity at Waters Field & Leaman, one of the preeminent advertising agencies in the US. My stepfather, mega-financier Richard Stanton, had been annoyed when I took the job, pointing out that if I’d been less prideful I could’ve worked for a friend of his instead and reaped the benefits of that connection.

“You’re as stubborn as your father,” he’d said. “It’ll take him forever to pay off your student loans on a cop’s salary.”

That had been a major fight, with my dad unwilling to back down. “Hell if another man’s gonna pay for my daughter’s education,” Alejandro Cabello had said when Stanton made the offer. I respected that. I suspected Stanton did, too, although he would never admit it. I understood both men’s sides, because I’d fought to pay off the loans myself…and lost. It was a point of pride for my father.

My mother had refused to marry him, but he’d never wavered from his determination to be my dad in every way possible.

Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I’d deliberately chosen to clock the short trip during a busy time on a Monday, so I was pleased when I reached the Crossfire Building, which housed Waters Field & Leaman, in less than thirty minutes.

I tipped my head back and followed the line of the building all the way up to the slender ribbon of sky. The Crossfire was seriously impressive, a sleek spire of gleaming sapphire that pierced the clouds. I knew from my previous interviews that the interior on the other side of the ornate copper-framed revolving doors was just as awe-inspiring, with golden-veined marble floors and walls, and brushed aluminum security desk and turnstiles.

I pulled my new ID card out of the inner pocket of my pants and held it up for the two guards in black business suits at the desk. They stopped me anyway, no doubt because I was majorly underdressed, but then they cleared me through. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, I’d have a general time frame for the whole route from door to door. Score.

I was walking toward the bank of elevators when a svelte, beautifully groomed brunette caught her purse on a turnstile and upended it, spilling a deluge of change. Coins rained onto the marble and rolled merrily away, and I watched people dodge the chaos and keep going as if they didn’t see it. I winced in sympathy and crouched to help the woman collect her money, as did one of the guards.

“Thank you,” she said, shooting me a quick harried smile.

I smiled back. “No problem. I’ve been there.”

I’d just squatted to reach a nickel lying near the entrance when I ran into a pair of luxurious black oxfords draped in tailored black slacks. I waited for a beat for the person to move out of my way and when they didn’t, I arched my neck back to allow my line of sight to rise. The custom three-piece suit hit more than a few of my hot buttons, but it was the tall, powerfully lean body inside it that made it sensational. Still, as hot as all that magnificent maleness was, it wasn’t until I reached the person's face that I went down for the count.

Wow. Just…wow. She sank into an elegant crouch directly in front of me. Hit with all that exquisite femininity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned.

Then something shifted in the air between us.

As she stared back, she altered…as if a shield slid away from her eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. The intense magnetism she exuded grew in strength, becoming a near tangible impression of vibrant and unrelenting power.

Reacting purely on instinct, I shifted backward. And sprawled flat on my ass.

My elbows throbbed from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I scarcely registered the pain. I was too preoccupied with staring, riveted by the woman in front of me. Inky black hair shoulder length framed a breathtaking face. Her bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy, while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely Emerald green eyes made her savagely gorgeous. Those eyes narrowed slightly, her features otherwise schooled into impassivity.

Her dress shirt and suit were both black, but her tie perfectly matched those brilliant irises. Her eyes were shrewd and assessing, and they bored into me. My heartbeat quickened; my lips parted to accommodate faster breaths. she smelled sinfully good. Not cologne. Body wash, maybe. Or shampoo. Whatever it was, it was mouthwatering, as was she.

she held out a hand to me, exposing onyx cufflinks and a very expensive-looking watch.

With a shaky inhalation, I placed my hand in hers. My pulse leaped when her grip tightened. Her touch was electric, sending a shock up my arm that raised the hairs on my nape. she didn’t move for a moment, a frown line marrying the space between arrogantly slashed brows.

“Are you all right?”

Her voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that she might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough.

My lips were dry, so I licked them before answering. “I’m fine.”

she stood with economical grace, pulling me up with her. We maintained eye contact because I was unable to look away. she was younger than I’d assumed at first. Younger than thirty would be my guess, but her eyes were much worldlier. Hard and sharply intelligent.

I felt drawn to her, as if a rope bound my waist and she was slowly, inexorably pulling it.

Blinking out of my semi-daze, I released her. she wasn’t just beautiful; she was…enthralling. she was the kind of woman that made a person want to rip her shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions. I looked at her in her civilized, urbane, outrageously expensive suit and thought of raw, primal, sheet-clawing fucking.

she bent down and retrieved the ID card I hadn’t realized I’d dropped, freeing me from that provocative gaze. My brain stuttered back into gear.

I was irritated with myself for feeling so awkward while she was so completely self-possessed. And why? Because I was dazzled, damn it.

she glanced up at me and the pose—she's nearly kneeling before me—skewed my equilibrium again. she held my gaze as she rose. “Are you sure you’re alright? You should sit down for a minute.”

My face heated. How lovely to appear awkward and clumsy in front of the most self-assured and graceful woman I’d ever met. “I just lost my balance. I’m okay.”

Looking away, I caught sight of the woman who’d dumped the contents of her purse. She thanked the guard who’d helped her; then turned to approach me, apologizing profusely. I faced her and held out the handful of coins I’d collected, but her gaze snagged on the god in the suit and she promptly forgot me altogether. After a beat, I just reached over and dumped the change into the woman’s bag. Then I risked a glance at the woman again, finding her watching me even as the brunette gushed thank-yous. To her. Not to me, of course, the one who’d actually helped.

I talked over her. “May I have my badge, please?”

she offered it back to me. Although I made an effort to retrieve it without touching her, her fingers brushed mine, sending that charge of awareness into me all over again.

“Thank you,” I muttered before skirting her and pushing out to the street through the revolving door. I paused on the sidewalk, gulping in a breath of New York air redolent with a million different things, some good and some toxic.

There was a sleek black Bentley SUV in front of the building and I saw my reflection in the spotless limo tinted windows. I was flushed and my brown eyes were overly bright. I’d seen that look on my face before—in the bathroom mirror just before I went to bed with a man. It was my I’m-ready-to-fuck look and it had absolutely no business being on my face now.

Christ. Get a grip.

Five minutes with Miss. Dark and Dangerous, and I was filled with an edgy, restless energy. I could still feel the pull of her, the inexplicable urge to go back inside where she was. I could make the argument that I hadn’t finished what I’d come to the Crossfire to do, but I knew I’d kick myself for it later. How many times was I going to make an ass of myself in one day?

“Enough,” I scolded myself under my breath. “Moving on.”

Horns blared as one cab darted in front of another with only inches to spare and then slammed on the brakes as daring pedestrians stepped into the intersection seconds before the light changed. Shouting ensued, a barrage of expletives and hand gestures that didn’t carry real anger behind them. In seconds all the parties would forget the exchange, which was just one beat in the natural tempo of the city.

As I melded into the flow of foot traffic and set off toward the gym, a smile teased my mouth. Ah, New York, I thought, feeling settled again. You rock.

I’d planned on warming up on a treadmill, then capping off the hour with a few of the machines, but when I saw that a beginners’ kickboxing class was about to start, I followed the mass of waiting students into that instead. By the time it was over, I felt more like myself. My muscles quivered with the perfect amount of fatigue and I knew I’d sleep hard when I crashed later.

“You did really well.”

I wiped the sweat off my face with a towel and looked at the young man who spoke to me. Lanky and sleekly muscular, he had keen brown eyes and flawless café au lait skin. His lashes were enviably thick and long, while his head was shaved bald.

“Thank you.” My mouth twisted ruefully. “Pretty obvious it was my first time, huh?”

He grinned and held out his hand. “Parker Smith.”

“Camila Cabello.”

“You have a natural grace, camila. With a little training you could be a literal knockout. In a city like New York, knowing self-defense is imperative.” He gestured over to a corkboard hung on the wall. It was covered in thumbtacked business cards and fliers. Tearing off a flag from the bottom of a fluorescent sheet of paper, he held it out to me. “Ever heard of Krav Maga?”

“In a Jennifer Lopez movie.”

“I teach it, and I’d love to teach you. That’s my website and the number to the studio.”

I admired his approach. It was direct, like his gaze, and his smile was genuine. I’d wondered if he was angling toward a pickup, but he was cool enough about it that I couldn’t be sure.

Parker crossed his arms, which showed off cut biceps. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and long shorts. His Converse sneakers looked comfortably beat up and tribal tattoos peeked up from his collar. “My website has the hours. You should come by and watch, see if it’s for you.”

“I’ll definitely think about it.”

“Do that.” He extended his hand again, and his grip was solid and confident. “I hope to see you.”

The apartment smelled fabulous when I got back home and Adele was crooning soulfully through the surround sound speakers about chasing pavements. I looked across the open floor plan into the kitchen and saw Cary swaying to the music while stirring something on the range. There was an open bottle of wine on the counter and two goblets, one of which was half-filled with red wine.

“Hey,” I called out as I got closer. “Whatcha cooking? And do I have time for a shower first?”

He poured wine into the other goblet and slid it across the breakfast bar to me, his movements practiced and elegant. No one would know from looking at him that he’d spent his childhood bouncing between his drug-addicted mother and foster homes, followed by adolescence in juvenile detention facilities and state-run rehabs. “Pasta with meat sauce. And hold the shower, dinner’s ready. Have fun?”

“Once I got to the gym, yeah.” I pulled out one of the teakwood barstools and sat. I told him about the kickboxing class and Parker Smith. “Wanna go with me?”

“Krav Maga?” Cary shook his head. “That’s hardcore. I’d get all bruised up and that would cost me jobs. But I’ll go with you to check it out, just in case this guy’s a wack.”

I watched him dump the pasta into a waiting colander. “A wack, huh?”

My dad had taught me to read guys pretty well, which was how I’d known the god in the suit was trouble. Regular people offered token smiles when they helped someone, just to make a momentary connection that smoothed the way.

Then again, I hadn’t smiled at him either.

“Baby girl,” Cary said, pulling bowls out of the cupboard, “you’re a sexy, stunning woman. I question any man who doesn’t have the balls to ask you outright for a date.”

I wrinkled my nose at him.

He set a bowl in front of me. It contained tiny tubes of salad noodles covered in a skimpy tomato sauce with lumps of ground beef and peas. “You’ve got something on your mind. What is it?”

Hmm…I caught the handle of the spoon sticking out of the bowl and decided not to comment on the food. “I think I ran into the hottest person on the planet today. Maybe the hottest woman in the history of the world.”

“Oh? I thought that was me. Do tell me more.” Cary stayed on the other side of the counter, preferring to stand and eat.

I watched him take a couple bites of his own concoction before I felt brave enough to try it myself. “Not much to tell, really. I ended up sprawled on my ass in the lobby of the Crossfire and she gave me a hand up.”

“Tall or short? Blond or dark? Built or lean? Eye color?”

I washed down my second bite with some wine. “Tall. Dark. Lean and built. green eyes. Filthy rich, judging by her clothes and accessories. And she was insanely sexy. You know how it is—some hot people don’t make your hormones go crazy, while some unattractive people have massive sex appeal. This woman had it all.”

My belly fluttered as it had when Dark and Dangerous touched me. In my mind, I remembered her breathtaking face with crystal clarity. It should be illegal for a woman to be that mind-blowing. I was still recovering from the frying of my brain cells.

Cary set his elbow on the counter and leaned in, his long bangs covering one vibrant green eye. “So what happened after she helped you up?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I left.”

“What? You didn’t flirt with her?”

I took another bite. Really, the meal wasn’t bad. Or else I was just starving. “she wasn’t the kind of girl you flirt with, Cary.”

“There is no such thing as a girl you can’t flirt with. Even the happily married ones enjoy a little harmless flirtation now and then.”

“There was nothing harmless about this girl,” I said dryly.

“Ah, one of those.” Cary nodded sagely. “Bad boys and girls can be fun, if you don’t get too close.”

Of course he would know; men and women of all ages fell at his feet. Still, he somehow managed to pick the wrong partner every time. He’d dated stalkers, and cheaters, and lovers who threatened to kill themselves over him, and lovers with significant others they didn’t tell him about…Name it, he’d been through it.

“I can’t see this woman ever being fun,” I said. “she was way too intense. Still, I bet she'd be awesome in the sack with all that intensity.”

“Now you’re talking. Forget the real person. Just use ther face in your fantasies and make them perfect there.”

Preferring to get the girl out of my head altogether, I changed the subject. “You have any go-sees tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Cary launched into the details of his schedule, mentioning a jeans advertisement, self-tanner, underwear, and cologne.

I shoved everything else out of my mind and focused on him and his growing success. The demand for Cary Taylor was increasing by the day, and he was building a reputation with photographers and accounts for being both professional and prompt. I was thrilled for him and so proud. He’d come a long way and been through so much.

It wasn’t until after dinner that I noticed the two large gift boxes propped against the side of the sectional sofa.

“What are those?”

“Those,” Cary said, joining me in the living room, “are the ultimate.”

I knew immediately they were from Stanton and my mom. Money was something my mother needed to be happy and I was glad Stanton, husband #3, was not only able to fill that need for her but all her many others as well. I often wished that could be the end of it, but my mom had a difficult time accepting that I didn’t view money the same way she did. “What now?”

He threw his arm around my shoulders, easy enough for him to do because he was taller by five inches. “Don’t be ungrateful. He loves your mom. He loves spoiling your mom, and your mom loves spoiling you. As much as you don’t like it, he doesn’t do it for you. He does it for her.”

Sighing, I conceded his point. “What are they?”

“Glam threads for the advocacy center’s fundraiser dinner on Saturday. A bombshell dress for you and a Brioni tux for me, because buying gifts for me is what he does for you. You’re more tolerant if you have me around to listen to you bitch.”

“Damn straight. Thank God he knows that.”

“Of course he knows. Stanton wouldn’t be a bazillionaire if he didn’t know everything.” Cary caught my hand and tugged me over. “Come on. Take a look.”

I pushed through the revolving door of the Crossfire into the lobby ten minutes before nine the next morning. Wanting to make the best impression on my first day, I’d gone with a simple sheath dress paired with black pumps that I slid on in replacement of my walking shoes on the elevator ride up. My brown hair was twisted up in an artful chignon that resembled a figure eight, courtesy of Cary. I was hair-inept, but he could create styles that were glamorous masterpieces. I wore the small pearl studs my dad had given me as a graduation gift and the Rolex from Stanton and my mother.

I had begun to think I’d put too much care into my appearance, but as I stepped into the lobby I remembered being sprawled across the floor in my workout clothes and I was grateful I didn’t look anything like that graceless girl. The two security guards didn’t seem to put two and two together when I flashed them my ID card on the way to the turnstiles.

Twenty floors later, I was exiting into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman. Before me was a wall of bulletproof glass that framed the double-door entrance to the reception area. The receptionist at the crescent-shaped desk saw the badge I held up to the glass. She hit the button that unlocked the doors as I put my ID away.

“Hi, Megumi,” I greeted her when I stepped inside, admiring her cranberry-colored blouse. She was mixed race, a little bit Asian for sure, and very pretty. Her hair was dark and thick, and cut into a sleek bob that was shorter in the back and razor sharp in the front. Her sloe eyes were brown and warm, and her lips were full and naturally pink.

“camila, hi. Mark’s not in yet, but you know where you’re going, right?”

“Absolutely.” With a wave, I took the hallway to the left of the reception desk all the way to the end, where I made another left turn and ended up in a formerly open space now partitioned into cubicles. One was mine and I went straight to it.

I dropped my purse and the bag holding my walking flats into the bottom drawer of my utilitarian metal desk; then booted up my computer. I’d brought a couple of things to personalize my space and I pulled them out. One was a framed collage of three photos—me and Cary on Coronado beach, my mom and Stanton on his yacht in the French Riviera, and my dad on duty in his City of Oceanside, California, police cruiser. The other item was a colorful arrangement of glass flowers that Cary had given me just that morning as a “first day” gift. I tucked it beside the small grouping of photos, and sat back to take in the effect.

“Good morning, Camila.”

I pushed to my feet to face my boss. “Good morning, Mr. Garrity.”

“Call me Mark, please. Come on over to my office.”

I followed him across the strip of hallway, once again thinking that my new boss was very easy to look at with his gleaming dark skin, trim goatee, and laughing brown eyes. Mark had a square jaw and a charmingly crooked smile. He was trim and fit, and he carried himself with a confident poise that inspired trust and respect.

He gestured at one of the two seats in front of his glass and chrome desk, and waited until I sat to settle into his Aeron chair. Against the backdrop of sky and skyscrapers, Mark looked accomplished and powerful. He was, in fact, just a junior account manager and his office was a closet compared to the ones occupied by the directors and executives, but no one could fault the view.

He leaned back and smiled. “Did you get settled into your new apartment?”

I was surprised he remembered, but I appreciated it, too. I’d met him during my second interview and liked him right away.

“For the most part,” I answered. “Still a few stray boxes here and there.”

“You moved from San Diego, right? Nice city, but very different from New York. Do you miss the palm trees?”

“I miss the dry air. The humidity here is taking some getting used to.”

“Wait ’til summer hits.” He smiled. “So…it’s your first day and you’re my first assistant, so we’ll have to figure this out as we go. I’m not used to delegating, but I’m sure I’ll pick it up quick.”

I was instantly at ease. “I’m eager to be delegated to.”

“Having you around is a big step up for me, Camila. I’d like you to be happy working here. Do you drink coffee?”

“Coffee is one of my major food groups.”

“Ah, an assistant after my own heart.” His smile widened. “I’m not going to ask you to fetch coffee for me, but I wouldn’t mind if you helped me figure out how to use the new one-cup coffee brewers they just put in the break rooms.”

I grinned. “No problem.”

“How sad is it that I don’t have anything else for you?” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Why don’t I show you the accounts I’m working on and we’ll go from there?”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Mark touched bases with two clients and had a long meeting with the creative team working on concept ideas for a trade school. It was a fascinating process seeing firsthand how the various departments picked up the baton from each other to carry a campaign from proposition to fruition. I might’ve stayed late just to get a better feel of the layout of the offices, but my phone rang at ten minutes to five.

“Mark Garrity’s office. Camila Cabello speaking.”

“Get your ass home so we can go out for the drink you rain-checked on yesterday.”

Cary’s mock sternness made me smile. “All right, all right. I’m coming.”

Shutting down my computer, I cleared out. When I reached the bank of elevators, I pulled out my cell to text a quick “on my way” note to Cary. A ding alerted me to which car was stopping on my floor and I moved over to stand in front of it, briefly returning my attention to hitting the send button. When the doors opened, I took a step forward. I glanced up to watch where I was going and green eyes met mine. My breath caught.

The sex god was the lone occupant.

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 20

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~5,400

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Smut

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Taglist: @symbiont13

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Things had gotten impossibly worse while she was away. More injured had shown up at their doors, another attempt gone completely wrong. Lilah, Brasa, and Javier had spent the last four days working logistics for the extra beds needed—and the extra blood. Their supplies were so low that Brasa had drained the healing pool to fill more bellies. There was little time to think about closing the portal while hungry mouths kept showing up at their door.

Lilah rested her head in her hands, wracking her brain for ideas, “We could steal it.”

Brasa, stressed as he was, laughed softly, “You’re not going on another run so soon. I’ve just got you back.”

Casting him an affectionate glance, Lilah lifted a shoulder, “Doesn’t have to be me.”

He leaned back in his chair, looking to Javier.  Dressed in a deep green suit, Jaiver ticked his head to the side, wrist turning so that his palm faced the ceiling. He wasn’t going to say no to the idea.

Brasa’s attention returned to Lilah, “Did you have someone in mind?”

She drew a deep breath in through her nose, pursing her lips so that the exhale came out as a kind of soft whistle, “You know who I’d pick.”

He nodded, “They are efficient.”

“They are available,” she added.

Javier pulled out his cell, “They are being notified.”

He strode from the room, closing the door behind him. Lilah slumped, picking at the frayed hem of her shorts. She tried not to think about what it would be like knowing that the brothers were pulling a job without her. Tried. Failed.

“I can choose another team,” Brasa commented lightly.

She shook her head, “No. There’s no time to explain why we would need a massive shipment of donated blood. Most teams are going to ask too many questions.”

Folding his hands on the table, Brasa silently agreed with her, “I can arrange for the exchange to occur off-site, if you like. You don’t have to see them.”

Lilah deeply appreciated the consideration, but she wasn’t going to make this more difficult that it needed to be, “All your people are here. Doesn’t make sense to bring it from one location to another. If its going to be a problem, I’ll hang out in our room during the hand off.”

Two days later, Lilah was doing just that when Brasa got a text from Richie that they were coming in hot. They didn’t know who was on their tail, but the reinforced walls of the shipping container were full of bullet holes and the rig was too big to lose the cars that followed.

Brasa was gone before she could blink, and Lilah wasn’t about to let him go alone. She grabbed her gun and knife, stalling for only half a second before pocketing her comm. She ran through the hallway, the office, the bar, and into the elevator. While she waited for the carriage to rise, she strapped the knife to her forearm and holstered the gun. When the doors opened to the empty parking garage and shipping bay, she made a sharp right and headed for the only set of stairs.

Feet slamming with every step, Lilah pushed through the door leading to the roof. She kept going until she hit the guard wall. Scanning the horizon, she easily spotted the semi speeding towards the building, kicking up a shit ton of dust in its wake. Behind it were two compacts that looked like they were sponsored by Red Bull. Modified with every possible option, sitting low, they flanked the rig.

Reaching into her pocket, Lilah dug the comm out of the holder, stuffing it into her ear and tapping it awake.

“Can anyone hear me?”

She got nothing in return. Lilah tried again.

“Anyone out there? Can you hear me?”

A second later, there was a distinctive click, followed by, “If you’re going to nag us about keeping a low profile, you can’t keep it to yourself.”

Richie.

Lilah exhaled in relief, “I take it you’ve noticed that you’re being followed.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Seth.

At least he was talking to her. Lilah half anticipated that he’d clam up out of sheer stubbornness. To be fair, they were hauling ass while trying to dodge bullets. Its possible he didn’t have the mental capacity to do both.

“Brasa’s on his way out there.” She spotted his dark figure running full sprint, impossibly fast, “Give him five seconds.”

“I got eyes,” Richie said in return. “He’s coming up on our left.”

Indeed he was. Lilah watched as he closed the distance, angling his way along the side of the semi. From the distance, Lilah couldn’t exactly tell what he did, but the car in front of him hit hard, flipping over its front wheels. It landed on its top, skidding a few feet. In the next breath, he was on it, hauling bodies from the inside. Whatever screams they might have made were lost to her as he pulled them apart.

Swallowing, Lilah pushed down her initial revulsion and focused on the semi as it neared, “You can’t pull into the garage with them on your ass.”

“I know that,” Richie spat, “Gonna circle it and head out the other way. Give Brasa a shot at the other car.”

That turned out to be almost a wholly unnecessary plan. The second car suddenly jerked to a halt, stalled, its bumper torn off by Brasa’s hand. The wheels skidded across the asphalt, the back axle definitely cracked.

“He’s got them,” was all she said as she watched him do the same all over again.

“Roger that.”

“Shut the fuck up,” came from Seth.

Lilah’s laugh was cut off when she caught movement on the horizon. Dark shapes rushed forward at a dizzying pace, clearing land and zeroing in on the semi as it slowed near the garage.

“You’ve got incoming,” Lilah shouted, turning and running towards the stairs.

Knowing they were going to need backup, she hustled downwards, one hand on the rail to keep balance. She barreled through the door and into the garage. Richie had pulled the semi past the entrance so that he could back in. She could see the parking lights as they flashed at the back.

Lilah rounded the cab, waving her arms and pointing. The brothers peered through the windows, then hopped out, their eyes turned towards the approaching horde. There were maybe fifty or sixty of them, their pounding footsteps loud enough that they echoed in the space of the garage.

“Culebras?” Seth asked.

“Yep,” Richie answered, pocketing his glasses, “Been a while since we’ve had a good fight.

“Yes. It. Has,” Seth enunciated clearly, shrugging off his jacket and pulled his pistols from their holster.  Then, to Lilah, “First sign of trouble, you run. Richie and I can handle ourselves, but you run. Got it?”

Taken aback, it took a few seconds for her to respond, “Duly noted, boss.”

He nodded, just once. Richie moved to stand beside him, fangs out, a knife in one hand. The horde continued to approach, moving as a singular undulating mass that had Lilah wondering how they were going to taken them down.

And then one caught fire. Then another. Then another. Like a line of flailing matches, they burst into flame from one side over to the other until the whole front line was slowly disintegrating into ash.

“That’s new,” Seth drawled, using the barrel of a gun to scratch at the back of his head.

Lilah’s lip curled as she watched, wondering if it was the sunlight. The ones that weren’t on fire were pretty well covered up, not an inch of skin showing. Every one wore a hood or mask.  They moved around their thrashing comrades, running with singular purpose towards the semi. Lilah palmed her gun, holding it in front of her in preparation to take aim.

The herd shifted, swaying wildly to one side, more exploding into bright orange fire. As they neared, Lilah could see a single dark figure moving among them. Brasa. She’d never really seen the extent of his power, he’d never been particularly flashy when he fought. Now, he was using it to casually extinguish their enemies. No thought. Just action. A turn of his hand and another group became nothing but ash.

Efficient. Casual. Violence.

Widening her stance, Lilah raised her gun, readying to fire. The group was close now, but not close enough that she trusted her aim. Next to her, Seth popped off a few rounds, catching one in the shoulder and stomach. The writhed until they, too, burst into flame.

Bouncing on his feet, Richie vaulted into action, a snarl sounding from deep in his chest. Lilah called after him, but he either didn’t hear or ignored her completely. Both were equally plausible.

“What an asshole,” she murmured, adjusting her grip on her pistol.

“Yeah,” Seth said, “But he’s our asshole.”

“He is,” she responded, finally squeezing the trigger and clipping a culebra in the side as they raised their fist to knock Richie across the face.

Smirking, Richie crouched and spun, slicing open their throat. Their skin burned in with the open wound, blood spurting towards the sky.

It went on like that, until Lilah’s clip was empty and Seth holstered first one gun, then the other—until Brasa moved into the center of the pack and set the whole thing ablaze, Richie ducking out of the circle of fire just in time to singe his coat.

The dust scratched her eyes, the wind blowing it all around the entrance of the garage. The sun beat down on them, the scent of burned flesh and earth filling the air. Lilah wiped sweat from her brow, adrenaline pumping in her veins. She looked to Seth, who was casually reloading his guns from a stash of bullets in the floor of the semi cab.

“Is it over?”

He looked to where Richie and Brasa were walking towards them, Richie’s confident swagger juxtaposed with Brasa’s quiet assurance. Neither of them looked wounded, the dregs of their victory crunching beneath their shoes.

“I think so.”

Lilah nodded, holstering her pistol. She only just managed to keep from pulling Brasa into a firm hug, glad for his safety. He touched her hand as he passed, his eyes looking her over for injury. The bond was open and pulsing, she could feel the excitement of a battle won as it flowed between them. He was strong. He was proud. He was victorious. Lilah could feel the residual power emanating from him, a tingling that signaled that she was in the presence of a greater being.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” she asked with a smile.

Brasa shrugged, “What’s life, if you can’t show off once in a while?”

Rolling her eyes, Lilah turned back to the brothers, one of which was dusting ash from his coat. The other stood with his hands on his hips, looking at the aftermath.

“Well, that was fun,” Seth chirped, “And by ‘fun’ I mean that I never want to do it again.”

“I don’t know,” Richie said with a smile, “Its good to shake the rust off every once in a while.”

Seth frowned, “Rust? Who’s rusty? Not me. I’m well oiled.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, turning her attention to Brasa, “This is going to go on a while.”

“I can see that,” he replied, squinting at the two arguing brothers.

It did, indeed, go on for a bit, until Seth shoved playfully at Richie, moving to the back of the semi, “You’re gonna have to do a little heavy lifting. Not gonna back this ass up to the loading dock.”

Brasa pulled out his cell phone, texting, “We will take care of it. Your payment should be in the account within twenty four hours.”

Seth cut him a sharp glance, “Yeah. Okay.”

From the back of the truck, he hauled a pair of large duffel bags, the content weighing down the length until it sagged in the middle. Dropping both at Lilah’s feet, Seth stepped back with his hands in his pockets.

“Got you something,” he said, “For the occasion.”

Curious, Lilah knelt near one of the bags, unzipped it. She peered inside, looking up at him with a smile, “Thanks. I can use something like this.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, “Thought so.”

Zipping the bag back up, she slung it over her shoulder. Brasa leaned down and snagged the other bag, shrugging it into place.

There was a moment of awkward slience, and then Seth licked his lips, eyes on the horizon, “You lied to me.”

There was no use in prevaricating.

She nodded, “I did.”

“For months.”

“Yes,” she confirmed, “Can you understand why I lied?”

Seth was silent long enough that Lilah feared the bridge between them had been burned irrevocably. She hefted the bag a little high on her shoulder, not sure if she had the words to mend their relationship.

“I was mad—maybe still am,” he said eventually, “I thought we trusted each other.”

“I did,” she responded quickly, “I do. I knew you would be mad.”

Seth rolled a shoulder, “I know. I’m sorry for yelling.”

“I’m sorry for not saying something sooner.”

Richie, who had been watching the exchange with interest, slipped his glasses back on, “Apologies all around. We good?”

Lilah waited for Seth to give an affirming nod before making one of her own. This would be awkward, but she was glad she hadn’t stayed behind and left the question of what would happen between them unanswered. They could maybe be friends again, if not partners. She was grateful for that. Her friends were few and far between—pretty much just the group standing around her, sans one. It would be hell to try to start over, nearly impossible to tell anyone about what her life was really like. Lilah didn’t even know how she would start that conversation.

“You never called, or sent a text,” Lilah prompted gently.

Seth’s mouth worked upward in half a smile, “Lost my phone. Same number, though. Just send me something, and I’ll save your info.”

Exhaling in relief, she looked around at the aftermath of what basically amounted to a ‘squabble’ in their book, “Anyone know where this came from?”

Richie followed the path of her gaze, “Three guesses. First two don’t count.”

“Benny,” reverberated between three distinct voices.

Lilah looked to Brasa, “What do we do?”

He sighed, “Finish it.”

“You get everything you need?” Seth asked.

Brasa nodded, “Only just. I’ll make sure this is delivered where it needs to go. And then I’ll make the trip.”

“I’m going with you,” Lilah pronounced evenly.

Without hesitation, Brasa acknowledged and accepted it.

“We’ll tag along, too,” Seth added, “Given what I’ve seen here, you might need the backup.”

Again, Brasa acknowledged and accepted.

Richie pulled out his lighter, the silver case spinning between thumb and forefinger, “Guess we’re getting the band back together.”

***

Later, after having spent hours working on the logistics of rationing their latest blood stores, Lilah lay in bed with Brasa in their underground home. She was reading through the notes she’d made on the book of bonds. The actual book had been lovingly added to Brasa’s collection, set amongst the other books in his office. She might one day pull it out again, for nostalgia.

The conversation with Kate in Iceland had stuck with her, nagging at her in the quiet moments. When she’d first read through it, Lilah had noted the passages on changes that occurred post-bond, but had (possibly naively) assumed that it would be primarily mental.

The word ‘fortify’ was used several times in varying contexts. Brasa, himself, had used it, leading her to believe that this was part of standard indoctrination. The question was: what did it mean?

Frustrated with the ramblings of her own written thoughts, Lilah set them aside. Next to her, Brasa was reading a Grisham novel. He’d been doing so quite serenely, unbothered by the shifting attention she’d been paying to first her notebooks, then her phone, and back.

Lilah looked at him, wondering if she should interrupt. He sensed her gaze, and sent her a sidelong look. A second later, he was slipping his forefinger between the pages and resting the book on his stomach.

“Ask your question,” he prompted, no bite in his tone.

Lilah laughed, her hand tracing over her forehead self consciously, “Its just something Kate said.”

“What did she say?”

“That she had stopped sleeping, stopped eating—like a normal person, I mean.”

His brow lifted, “And?”

She shrugged, “I just...hadn’t really noticed the same for me. She asked, you know? If I had been feeling the same way.”

“And you’re worried about it.”

Hesitating, she said, “Not worried, exactly. Its just...there have been so many surprises this year. So many. I wondered if this was going to be another of them.”

Brasa’s gaze was steady, his mind clearly processing what she’d just said. He leaned over and set his book on the nightstand, rolling to his side to face her.

“You took the news of your immortality poorly.”

She frowned, “I think my reaction was pretty normal.”

It was his turn to frown, “You ran away for three months, would have been gone longer if I hadn’t come to get you.”

Jaw working, Lilah kept her silence, looking away.

“Regardless,” Brasa waved his hand, “I thought it would be better to let you get used to a long life before we explored...other changes.”

“What other changes?”

He signed in resignation, “As Kate said, decreased appetite for food and sleep.”

Lila’s frown deepened to a glare, “Is that all the changes I can expect?”

Brasa’s mouth parted on an inhale as he thought, “Increased strength, healing, night vision—all things that might characterize a Xibalban.”

She drew back, confused, “I’m becoming...Xibalban.”

His brows quirked, “You are ingesting my blood, it is changing you. I’ve mentioned this before.”

“Mentioned, but not explained,” Lilah retorted, annoyed by the false equity. Then, “You said you had given me all the information you could. At the cabin, you said it.”

Brasa was silent for a while, looking a little lost for words. Lilah crossed her arms, unsure if she wanted to ask more questions. She didn’t like feeling constantly surprised by new aspects of the bond. On the other hand, Lilah like to be informed.

“How fast does it happen?”

“Every time you feed, the changes will grow.”

Lilah tried to count the number of times she’d taken his blood, and how much.

A hand rested on her arm, warm and entreating, “I have kept this in mind. I’ve limited your exposure as much as I could while assuring myself of your safety.”

Taking his hand in hers, Lilah asked, “So, I’m—what—super powered now.”

He smirked, “Perhaps not. But, you’re certainly stronger than the average human.”

Casting him an amused look, she said, “I could actually win a fight now.”

Brasa ticked his head to the side, “Possibly.”

“So, what you’re saying is that I could give you a run for your money now.”

He outright laughed, “No. Not even close.”

“Sure,” she drawled.

His expression turned mischievous, “Care to make an attempt?”

Intrigued, Lilah leaned in and asked, “What did you have in mind?”

Brasa looked down the length of her body, eyes lingering on her bare feet, “Put on your shoes.”

He waited until she’d rolled from the bed and was digging through her sock drawer to stand. Lilah pulled on her socks, stepping into her tennis shoes and tugging at the backs to fit them over her heels. Out of reflex, she snagged a hair tie and pulled back her hair.

“You gonna tell me?”

Brasa’s smile was not unkind, but there was something in it that screamed ‘predator’, “You’re going to run. I’ll give you a head start, and then I’ll follow.”

Smirking, Lilah responded, “What? Through the house?”

His smile widened as he moved past her out into the hall, taking a left. Lilah followed him, her brows rising as he stepped up to the door that had always been locked and turned the knob. It opened for him, only darkness ahead. Lilah moved to stand beside him, peering into the black.

As her eyes adjusted, shapes formed—carved rock, smooth stone.

“You built the house connected to the caves,” she murmured.

Beside her, he nodded, “I’ll give you ten minutes head start.”

“How long to I have to elude you to win?”

“An hour.”

She shook her head, “Half an hour.”

“Forty five minutes,” he volleyed.

“Forty.”

At this, he leveled at stern look at her, “Forty.”

Lilah looked up at him, her eyes narrowed, “You’re serious.”

“I am.”

Pursing her lips, she turned her attention back to the cave, “Alright.”

Brasa touched her arm, leaning into her space, “Don’t get lost.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, but stepped into the cave, one hand on the wall to maintain her balance.

Behind her, Brasa said, “Ten minutes,” and closed the door.

The darkness was a physical thing, pressing in on her from all sides. Lilah’s heart picked up, anxious. She took a deep, steadying breath, and started walking. And then she jogged. And then she ran. Lilah didn’t stop to question the fact that she could still see the path before her in the darkness, though it strained her eyes. She also didn’t stop to think about where she might be going.

Exhilarated, Lilah picked up speed, taking turns at random, until her legs burned. It was only when she stopped to rest, leaning against the wall of the cave, that she realized she’d reached a dead end. There was no telling how much time had passed. And, not wanting to make it too easy for him, she doubled back and picked a new path.

Unable to keep a sprinting pace, Lilah slowed to a jog. Her legs still burned, and it took a couple hundred yards for her to realize that she was jogging uphill. In the distance, there was light. It was dim, a blurry shaft of discolored blue slicing through the ceiling to touch a ramp of stone beneath. She headed for it.

The climb was steep, and she had to lay on her belly for the last few feet as the rock met the ceiling. Shifting to her back, she scooted until she was looking up through the hole to the darkened sky above. Dotted with stars, it stretched over her entire field of vision. Lilah stared at it for far too long before she reached up and tried to figure out how she was going to angle her body out of the hole.

Hands grabbed at her ankles. Startled, Lilah kicked out with both feet. She caught him across the body, but failed to move him or gain enough traction to propel her up and through the hole. Unceremoniously, she was dragged back into the dark.

The stone scraped across her back. Her voice echoed back to her, a yell that wasn’t quite convincingly scared. She was smiling, even as she slowed to a stop beneath him.

“How did I do?”

Crouched on all fours above her, Brasa smiled indulgently, “Thirty three minutes.”

“Bullshit.”

He laughed, the pad of his middle finger tracing over her hairline, down her temple, and around her ear, “I wouldn’t lie about this.”

Frustrated that she’d gotten so close and still hadn’t won, Lilah braced one foot on the stone ramp, using the other to catch him at his center of gravity and push with all her might. To her great surprise, he rocked back far enough that she could get to her hands and knees. Fingers digging in, Lilah scrambled up towards the hole.

She got about five feet. Which, to be fair, was farther than she thought she’d get. He was on her, pushing all his massive weight into her back and forcing her arms and legs to collapse beneath her. All the air pushed out of her lungs, Lilah couldn’t even gasp as he pinned her down with an arm across her shoulder blades.

Just to goad him, Lilah wriggled, trying to work her hands into a more favorable position. She moved not an inch, but that didn’t keep her from grinning.

Brasa growled, the sound coming back to her in waves as it bounced off the walls. Though more savage then she normally heard from him, it hardly struck her as menacing as he might have intended. She cut off the laugh at the back of her throat, but not before he heard it. A hand grabbed at her chin, catching it from beneath and arching her head back.

“It would be a mistake to think you can overpower me.”

From any other mouth, Lilah might have been enraged enough to yank her chin out of his grasp and headbutt him in response. As it was, she could feel his amusement through the bond and knew he was enjoying the game as much as she was.

“One day,” she said over her shoulder, “I won’t have to.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded as much as she was able to, “You’ll never see it coming.”

He hummed, his lips touching her neck in a light kiss, “I look forward to it.”

“Say that again when I’m done with you,” Lilah shot back, unthinking.

At this, Brasa chuckled darkly, his hands adjusting their grip so that he could balance his body over her. More little kisses over her neck and down her shoulder until he met the collar of her shirt. He nosed beneath it, teeth scraping.

Lilah shivered, holding still while he did as he liked, her breath loud in her ears. Brasa let go of her chin in favor of pulling her shirt down over her shoulder. Lilah’s head dropped down to her chest, eyes closing.

She thought that he might tear into her clothing, pull it free from her body to get at more skin. He didn’t. Slow, measured kisses kept coming on every available inch, until he’d left no space unloved. Then, he shifted his weight behind her and pushed her shirt up and over her breasts, his mouth trailing down her spine.

Her bra snapped open, hanging down uselessly as he kneaded her breast. Brasa worked his way down her body, hands massaging over her sides until they met the waistband of her shorts. Wrists rotating, he caressed over her belly and pushed down into her panties. One hand held her steady as he teased the sensitive flesh in the crease of her thigh, a light pressure guiding her legs a few more inches wider.

Once she was in position, he slid two fingers down to her center, rubbing through her folds gently. Lilah bit her lip, focused on every movement of his hand as he explored. Firm pressure on her opening, and then he was pushing into her. A slow, careful intrusion that left Lilah breathless. She pushed to her elbows, hip rolling to get more.

He tugged down her shorts as far as they would go, pulling his fingers free to circle her clit. She whined, little tremors of sensation shaking her nerves. His other hand reached down to enter her from behind, working in concert with its counterpart to ease her towards the upswing of pleasure.

It was slow, but firm enough to keep her on edge, biting back begging words that may or may not sway him. Lilah focused on the rhythm as it picked up just the tiniest bit, focused on undulating back onto him, getting him as deep as she could. Her hands flexed on the ground below her, the scrape of the rock adding to the sensations buzzing all over her body.

Chasing the high, Lilah used what little strength she still had in her arms to push upright, letting her hips fall with the weight of gravity into his hands. She groaned, head tilted back, neck arched to the ceiling.

Brasa drew a shuddering breath behind her, and she heard him swallow. Lilah rose up with a little swivel, rocking back down with another, smaller sound of need.

It took little time for Brasa to right himself, to gain his focus back. The fingers on her clit circled a little too fast, though he held his other hand still, let her fuck herself on it as she liked.

“Is this what you need?” He asked, teeth nipping at her ear.

Lilah shook her head, reaching up high with one hand to see if she could brace herself against the ceiling. Her fingertips barely touched to rock above, skimming the surface ineffectually. Giving up on the notion, Lilah’s arm bent at the elbow so that she could tangle her fingers in his hair at the scalp.

She could feel it coming, rising up within her body, slicing through from the center outwards. Lilah fought it, forcing her body to slow down, wanting him to fill her before she came. Her mouth opened to say so, but the words came out as a long, agonized moan.

“Tell me what you need, querida,” he said, his breath fanning over her skin.

Behind her, Brasa was fire hot, the heat scoring all along her back, and inside her, everywhere he touched. She could feel how much he was holding back, the muscles of his thighs tense where she sat astride him.

“You,” she managed on a choked sob, “I need you.”

He loosed an oath, arms tightening around her. His chest expanded on a harshly drawn breath as he buried his face into her neck, “Let me make you come first, then I can—“

“No,” Lilah cut him off, “Now.”

She felt him shake his head, felt him begin to touch her in earnest, felt how close she was to cresting over the edge into orgasm. Again, she fought it. The hand in his hair clenched into a fist, pulling hard as she repeated ‘now’ to him in fierce demand.

A growl ripped from his chest. He withdrew his hand, yanking down his pants and positioning his cock at her entrance. Then, with no further preamble, he pulled her down onto him. Hard.

Lilah, already too close, felt every muscle in her body seize in blinding pleasure. It held itself aloft, suspended for several seconds until it dropped down into her cunt so hard that Lilah could no longer keep herself upright. She fell forward in a limp mass of shaking limbs, the sharp staccato of her voice sounding off the walls.

“Are you…” she heard him ask, followed by a loud hiss, both his hands finding her hips and squeezing.

He began to move, then, thrusting hard through the contractions, drawing out her orgasm as he sought his own. The movements were short, harsh, the pace picking up rapidly. Above the sound of his skin slapping against hers, Lilah could hear him grunt with the effort, swearing intermittently, until he pushed so deep that she didn’t think he could go any further. He pulsed inside her, his hips grinding against her ass, hands holding her both still and steady.

She lay like that in his hands until he pulled out. He adjusted first his own pants and then her shorts, rolling her to her back. Her hands and knees protested, the change in pressure letting blood back into them. She rolled her wrists, trying to ease the feeling.

“Are you alright?”

Lilah nodded, swallowing around the tightness in her throat, “I’m good. Just need a minute.”

As she lay there, catching her breath, Brasa massaged her legs from calves to hips, helped her to snap her bra back into place and right her shirt. He then kissed her lightly, taking her hand in his.

She smiled at him, “We should try that again sometime.”

“We should.”

Hooking a finger into the collar of his shirt, Lilah pulled him down for a deeper kiss, tongue touching at his lips in a gentle tease. At least, it started as a gentle tease. Still riding the feeling of the orgasm she’d just had and with his come dripping from her folds, Lilah pulled him closer, hands roaming his chest. Brasa leaned into her, and she could feel the razor sharp edges of his fangs, could taste the venom in his kiss.

She pulled away, breathing hard, “As nice as this is, we have a bed that is made of clouds and I would very much like to fuck you on it.”

He smiled, “Whatever you need.”

[allforhader]

The Unexpected

Bill Hader x (F) Reader

Requested by: Anon

Warnings: Langauge

Bill having three kids already, he should be experienced in those stressful situations where you’re going to have to drop everything when your wife goes into labor. But he also didn’t plan for Y/N to not make it to the hospital when she delivered. LA traffic is a bitch.

��—

When Y/N and Bill got married, they didn’t really plan ahead for anything. Bill went back to filming for Barry after their honeymoon and Y/N was a writer for the show so she had to get her job done. The two found few energy filled moments when they had a day off from Barry and when the girls were with Maggie.

The day Y/N found out she was pregnant she didn’t tell Bill right away. She needed to confirm it without relying on store bought tests. And she didn’t know exactly how he’d feel about having another kid. So it wasn’t until she was around three months when she finally wanted to tell Bill.

Y/N wanted to tell him before the work day started but he jumped right into filming and she didn’t know where to find room. Until Sarah Goldberg and D’Arcy Carden gave Y/N the wildest idea of having a surprised script change. The two only knew she was pregnant because Y/N told her mom over the phone as the two over heard.

“Yo! Hader, there’s been a script change” Sarah states handing Bill the new pages as he instantly looks at Y/N confused.

Y/N shrugs for the most part before standing beside Alec to watch the take be done.

“Was this your plan Y/N?” Alec asks her as Y/N rolls her eyes before whispering to him what’s going on. “Well, if he gets a heart attack from excitement. I’ll blame you”

“You’d blame me when I would probably have one if he does” Y/N gave Alec a look before laughing a bit. Alec moved his stuff from Bill’s director’s chair letting her sit. “Not my idea”

“Actors have crazy ideas. I’m not surprised that this came from the two” Alec states before nudging Y/N to look at Bill look at the script after rounding up who he needs.

“How much you want to bet he’s going to scream?”

“You want to make a bet on my husband’s reaction?” Y/N laughs a bit before relaxing. “Let’s not”

“Ok ok”

Bill stares at the two he got not really understanding how the scene they shot before lead to this one. Or where this scene will be but he froze when Sarah grabbed his shirt.

“You have no idea?”

“What?” Not scripted.

“This is going to be life changing! Get excited!” D’Arcy states as Bill stood there even more confused before looking down at the change.

Sarah suddenly took it from him when he was supposed to have it in the first place. Y/N face palms hearing Alec laugh.

“Get excited about what?!” Bill stares at the two as they have each other a look while the other actors for Barry grew confused on what the fuck was going on.

“Can I be first to say congratulations?”

“What”

The “script change” was really just Sarah and D’Arcy getting up in Bill’s personal space trying to see if he can connect the dots before stating the obvious.

“I did not write this, Im just gonna make that clear” Y/N tells Alec as he knew it was them. No brainer.

“Come on Berkman! How the fuck do you not know?”

“This is really exciting we heard it from your lover”

Bill really is oblivious and kept looking over at Y/N and Alec expecting something. But all he got was a shrug from Alec and a smile with a thumbs up from Y/N. Thanks. Very helpful.

“Can I Uh get the script back”

“Goddamn Berkman!”

“How did you not know she’s pregnant!” Fucking. Finally.

Bill stares at the two confused before being handed back the script and reading the last bit. He froze in place feeling like an idiot for not catching on, even though Sarah and D’Arcy at first weren’t helpful. He immediately looks over to Y/N watching her nod to confirm it as he started getting emotional. Bill handed the script back before quickly heading to Y/N and holding her in his arms crying happily.

“Should we call it a day?” Alec asks knowing for damn sure the two were having their moment. “Alright! We’ll pick up with the actual script tomorrow!” He states letting the two have the rest of the day.

So now Bill knows. It’s a good thing but something he didn’t take into consideration is, this is Y/N’s first and possibly only pregnancy. So even if Bill does know what he’s doing and is willing to take care of a lot of things in preparation. But when Y/N was finishing her second trimester heading into her third, she got extremely anxious over everything and would stay up unexpectedly startling Bill when he’d come home late.

“Shit-“ Bill whisper yells as when he closes the front door around 1 in the morning. Staying at the office to make adjustments to a few scenes, was a mistake.

Bill hangs up his jacket setting his keys down and before he could sneak up to bed. He stops seeing the shine of a screen distract him in the living room.

“Y/N...?” He asks walking around the couch seeing her sitting on the floor with her laptop on the coffee table open to a number of things. “Why are you awake?” He frowns moving himself beside her seeing the scariest shit he’s ever seen looked up about pregnancy. “Okay—Hey?”

“Hm...?” Y/N turns to him looking extremely tired as she was protectively holding her belly. “When did you get home?”

“Not even a minute ago. It’s one in the morning why aren’t you in bed?”

“Well, I was working on...a scene. Then got distracted by a number of things. Also you try growing a human. I can’t get up easily so I stayed here” Y/N sighs watching Bill get up moving the coffee table. He moves in front of her holding his hands out which she took to get help off the floor. “Did you know that 1.61% of births aren’t in a hospital?”

“That’s a very low percentage”

“It equals to 62,228 births, Bill”

“Okay and why are you looking that up?”

“What if I’m part of that one percentage”

“Y/N...I can promise you. When you go into the labor, you’ll make it to the hospital. I doubt you’ll have the baby in the backseat of my car”

“Are you implying that it’s a possibility?”

“Y/N. No”

“Bill it can happen. It probably would knowing my luck”

“What do you mean by that?”

“If you don’t agree with me I’m going to be even more anxious than I was before”

“We’ve gone over this...You get anxious when I do agree with you sometimes” Bill laughs a bit before bringing his wife into his arms. “I highly doubt you’ll have the baby in my car”

“Mmm...better prepare for that possibility Bill” Y/N sighs resting her head against his chest feeling him kiss the top of her head. “The baby is healthy and is on track. But one small thing can fuck everything up”

“Giving birth anywhere other than a hospital won’t fuck up everything. It happens. But still. I promise. It won’t. You’ll have our little one in the comforts of a hospital”

“Just know if fate says otherwise. I’m yelling at you”

“You were going to yell at me regardless baby” Bill smiles resting his chin on top of her head feeling her grip onto his shirt. “It’s going to be okay. Okay?”

“Mhm..”

When the time actually came, Y/N didn’t realize that her water had broke until Bill asked pointed out. Guess she didn’t think about it when it happened. Bill helped her into the backseat thinking she wouldn’t be cramped if she was in the front. He put the hospital bag in the passengers before starting to head to the hospital.

“Bill—“

“Just take deep breaths, we’ll be there soon—shit” Bill frowns seeing the traffic start to become bumper to bumper. “Shit. Fuck. Okay, how close are they?”

“U-Uh. Uhm. Shit—“ Y/N couldn’t really think at this point when she thought the contractions would be more elongated. But they were coming in more expectedly.

This baby isn’t waiting and Bill is trying to find a way out of this traffic and to the nearest hospital.

“I. Fucking—-Told you Bill”

“Y/N—I can’t predict the future!”

“But people—jinx it” Y/N moans in pain unbuckling herself which startled Bill but she knew they weren’t moving any time soon.

As traffic started to lift a bit, just enough for Bill to rely on surface streets. Y/N had already positioned herself comfortably in the backseat trying to “keep it in” until they get to the hospital. It wasn’t until Bill parked in the ER load off that Y/N couldn’t wait. Bill ran inside hurrying over to the nurse’s station.

“I uh. My wife is in the back of my car—She has the baby—“

“Someone get a wheelchair!” One of the nurse called as Bill stopped the nurse.

“She needs more than a wheelchair”

“Sir did your wife get hurt-“

“She had our baby in the backseat” Bill blurts out as the nurse he was talking to went to get an ER doctor for the time being along with a gurney before paging OB.

After two hours of making sure mom and baby were perfectly okay, Bill was let into Y/N’s hospital room finding a very tired wife holding a little bundle of joy wrapped in a blue blanket. The two wanted to be surprised and indeed it was.

“Sorry I killed your all girls streak”

“That’s the first thing you say...?” Bill laughs as the tears of joy started streaming down his cheeks kissing Y/N’s temple before admiring the little boy she’s holding.

“Told you Id be part of the one percent”

“Oh shut up” He smiles kissing his wife lovingly before climbing into the bed beside her.

Y/N instantly handed their little boy to Bill watching him still be shaky when he’s had three before this one. It was honestly and will always be an amazing experience. This one definitely having quite the story to it. Y/N rests her head on his shoulder looking down at their little boy watching him instantly ease into Bill’s arms.

“Wow. A natural” Y/N jokes as she smiles nuzzling close to her husband. “So, the third?”

“William Thomas Hader the third? Wouldn’t that be a mouthful?”

“Bill, really?”

“You know I’m just teasing”

“Mhm”

Bill couldn’t stop smiling at their son as after some time of holding him, Y/N had fallen asleep against him. He loves this, and can’t wait to start this new chapter.

[craniumhurricane]

[ FINAL Chapter on AO3 ] [ Chapter 1 ]

IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone that has stuck with me this long. It’s been a fun and wild ride.

Of course, I have to give a final thank you to @casleyislove who doesn’t even watch the 100 but is always willing to read my fics and to @sushigirlali who rides the bellarke struggle bus with me and I would not be sane without her. Thank you both SO MUCH for putting up with me and my insecurities.

Without further ado...

~~~

Before Kodiak disappeared down the hallway, he and McCreary gathered the remaining fourteen hostages and corralled them into the small waiting area. It’s funny that, just a few hours ago, Clarke was making plans for some future weekend with her friend in this very spot and now they’re probably not making it out of here.

“Hey,” Harper whispers, breaking her out of the depressing thoughts spiraling around in her head. “I need you to not lose it on me, ok?”

She glances up to see not only Harper but surprisingly Diyoza giving her a meaningful look as well.

“We’re not out of ideas just yet,” Diyoza smirks and subtly glances behind the potted plant she’s next to and back.

Clarke follows her gaze and can just make out the handle of Harper’s bag.

Before she’s able to grasp what they’re trying to get, the sounds of a scuffle echo from down the hallway, followed shortly by a gunshot and Clarke knows, can feel it deep down in her bones, that it's Bellamy. Bellamy has come to rescue them. Rescue her. And because of this and because she knows how much the universe likes to fuck with them, she knows what's about to happen a second before it does.

McCreary grabs her forcefully by the arm and drags her away from the others before yanking her to her feet. He positions her so her back is flush against his front and angles the gun so it's just within the periphery of her eyesight. 

"We can all make it out of this," he says in her ear and she wills herself not to flinch. "Just control that savior complex of yours," he pauses and turns them slightly to face Diyoza, "and you keep your mouth shut."

The other woman just glares back in response and McCreary must take it as agreement because he turns them back around.

In a blink, Bellamy emerges from around the corner, gun drawn and aimed directly at her. She sees a flicker in his eyes but his hand doesn't falter. He gives nothing away.

Clarke hopes her reaction is the same, despite the tears of relief she can feel building behind her eyes.

“Took you long enough, officer," McCreary sneers. “We’ve been waiting.”

“Let her go, McCreary!” Bellamy shouts.

Her eyes meet Bellamy’s and she can see the fire in them; the promise that he will get her out of this. She takes a breath and then another; tries to even out her breathing and will herself to be calm.

But Bellamy must stare at her a beat too long because suddenly McCreary starts laughing.

“Oh shit! You know her, don't you?” he taps the gun against her temple.

Bellamy doesn't say anything, just keeps his gun trained on them.

“Is that how you knew Rabe was my weak link? How you managed to get in here?” McCreary asks but he's not looking at Bellamy. Clarke can feel him staring a hole into the side of her head and then he's moving the hair off her shoulder with the barrel of his gun. She struggles not to recoil away from him as he whispers into her neck, “Have you been feeding him information? That’s very impressive, Doc. You’ll have to tell me about it... if you live.”

“I said let her go!” Bellamy yells again, taking a step forward.

“Ah ah ah,” McCreary warns, dragging them back a step and pressing the gun to her head more forcefully. “I assume you want mother and child to make it out of this?”

Clarke sees something flash in her husband's eyes, can see the gears turning as he tries to come up with a plan.

"Your partners are dead, McCreary," Bellamy says and takes another step to which she's pulled back again, "The building is surrounded. There's no way you make it out of this."

"Maybe," Clarke feels her captor shrug against her, "But where would the fun be if this were easy."

“God damn it, this isn’t a game!”

Clarke has to do something; she can't just stand here waiting to be shot. She casts her eyes around the room while Bellamy is still talking but there's nothing close enough for her to get her hands on.

All at once, it dawns on her then what Diyoza and Harper were trying to tell her. And that taking those few precious steps back have put her and McCreary in a new position.

As slowly and subtly as she can, she moves her right hand from where it’s hanging at her side and hopes that one of the women behind her is paying attention. Clarke glances at Bellamy and meets his eyes briefly. If he notices her movement, he doesn't acknowledge it.

“Here's what I'll do," McCreary states as if he's about to do this huge favor. "I’ll swap out your woman for mine,” he nods behind him in the vague direction of Diyoza. “And we’ll discuss the whereabouts of my daughter, hm? A mother and her child for a mother and her child.”

There’s a slight hesitation from Bellamy that draws Clarke's full attention back to him. Don’t even think about it.

He looks at her and visibly swallows before raising his gun a little higher. "Afraid I can't do that."

McCreary sighs, "Then I'm afraid we're still at an impasse. Only now I might have to slowly dispose of the other hostages until we can come to an agreement."

She sees Bellamy’s gaze drift behind them and can pinpoint the exact moment he makes eye contact with something… or someone. He looks back at her. There's a question there and Clarke trusts him. She shoots him a look. Yes, do it!

He nods and not even a second later Clarke hears the static charge of electricity right before McCreary’s body seizes up and jerks, releasing her and throwing her forward. With a startled gasp, she throws out her left arm to catch herself as she goes down and feels the impact as her shoulder hits the ground.

A gunshot follows shortly after and her eyes snap open immediately at the sound as she struggles to focus, to find Bellamy and make sure he's ok.

Clarke had no reason to worry, though.

He’s next to her in an instant, gingerly helping her sit up.

“Bell-” she manages, trying to check him over but it’s difficult with her hands shaking so violently.

His hands are steady, however, as they grab her’s and clutch them tightly between his. “Shh, it’s ok, princess. I got you. You’re ok now,” he whispers and then his arms slip around her to pull her close.

She looks over his shoulder and can see McCreary, lying motionless on the ground with a bullet wound in his head while Diyoza kneels next to him with Harper’s taser in her hand.

And just like that the weight of everything that’s happened in the last few hours finally caves in on her and Clarke starts to sob.

All she can do is cling to Bellamy as he rocks her.

They’re all eventually ushered outside where police cars and ambulances are waiting to take their statements and assess their injuries. Clarke has to practically force Bellamy to leave her side so he can finish wrapping everything up with his team. She sits in the back of an ambulance with Diyoza as paramedics look them over.

“These stitches look good, we’ll just want to clean the area a bit more,” the paramedic says before stepping between them to grab supplies.

Diyoza looks over at her, “Thanks for patching me up. And helping everyone stay calm in there.”

Clarke shoots her a smirk, “Thanks for tasing the bastard.”

Diyoza snorts, “Trust me, it was my pleasure.”

The paramedic that was tending to Clarke takes the stethoscope out of his ears, “Baby’s heartbeat sounds good but you probably still want to make an appointment with your OB. Now let me see if I can find something for your shoulder.”

Clarke thanks him and he rounds the vehicle. She smiles down at her belly and rubs a soothing hand over the bump but can feel Diyoza still staring at her. When she turns back to look at the woman, she’s surprised to see a soft smile on her face.

“Do you know what you’re having?” she asks.

Clarke smiles back. “Not yet. We have an appointment next week though.”

“Well, congratulations. And all things considered,” she stands up after the paramedic puts a new bandage over her wound, “Hope makes for a pretty great name after a day like today so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see if I can find where they’re keeping mine.” And then she’s gone.

She’s sitting alone on the bumper of the ambulance when Bellamy finally makes his way back over to her. Her arm is in a sling and she's gingerly sipping water from a bottle that the paramedic instructed her to finish before she left the parking lot. At the first press of lips to her forehead, she can’t help but lean into him. 

“You ok?” he asks.

“It's not broken, but I should probably keep it in the sling for a few days,” she tries to shrug but doesn’t quite pull it off.

Bellamy gingerly brushes some of her hair off her forehead before tilting her head to look at him. He doesn't have to ask the question again. 

She feels the tears start to build again. “I was so scared, Bellamy.”

She drops her head into his chest and he brings his arms around her, holding her in his strong, safe embrace.

“You did so good, Clarke,” he soothes. “Better than some people that are trained for situations like that.” He pulls back so that she’ll look up at him but he keeps his hands on her waist. “I don’t know what we would have done without your help.” He brushes his fingers along her cheek and she sees the guilt start to settle into his eyes, “I just wish I could have gotten to you sooner.”

She grabs the hand on her cheek and holds it there. “Hey, I know you were doing everything you could to get us out of there. You did good too, Bellamy.”

“Not all of you,” his lips twitch into a sad smile as his thumb swipes a stray tear from her cheek. “Two dead.”

“But fourteen alive,” she stresses before taking his hand off her cheek and moving it to her belly. “Fifteen,” she adds with a smile.

Reflexively, his thumb moves across her stomach. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you,” he says and she knows he’s talking to both of them.

She reaches up to brush a tear of his own off his cheek, “You didn’t.”

He leans in to kiss her and she meets him in it, both drawing comfort from having the other right there in front of them. They were a team, a unit, and they always would be. As long as they were still breathing.

[willow-salix]

Did someone ask for Tracy's racing golf carts? No? Oh well...

Day 70 of Isolation on Tracy Island.

We all slept in late this morning, well, those of us that actually got to bed did, when we finally got up around lunch time we found Gordon and Scott passed out on the couches and Brains asleep at the kitchen table with a cold cup of coffee still clutched in his hand like a teddy bear.

I sent John, Virg, Grandma, Kayo and Jeff out to the pool and sorted breakfast myself, being careful not to wake the sleeping beauties.

Once breakfast was done we quietly made our way down to the hangar to see what progress the boys had made over night and to check that no sabotage had happened to the girl golf while we were sleeping.

It looked like the boys had managed to finish it at some point, or as close to, but we still had no idea why Gordon had wanted them or what he was planning on doing with them. We all drifted off to our own activities. I had the sudden and undeniable urge to bake miniature cupcakes and since Brains had apparently awoken and wandered off at some point, I had free use of the kitchen. I left them on the side for anyone who wanted to eat them and tracked John down to indulge in my favorite pastime, sitting really close to him and just staring at him until he gives up trying to concentrate on whatever he's doing to pay attention to me.

We were chilling out in the reading nook upstairs, watching Virgil finish his painting while I read out funny isolation tweets when Gordon appeared in the lounge.

“Hey everyone, it’s ready!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, waking Scott who flailed and rolled off the couch in shock.

“What’s ready?” he grumbled, rubbing his elbow where it had whacked the floor.

“The race course!”

His meaning dawned on us all at the same second and we groaned.

***

Gordon had us all assemble outside Two’s cliff hangar entrance where he’d pushed the two golf carts out and had them lined up ready.

“Girls vs boys?” Kayo and I confirmed.

“Yep, one driver, one co-pilot, drag race down the runway, sharp left hand turn down that ramp , onto the beach for an anything goes, flat out race. First one around the island via the beach wins,” Gordon announced much to my horror.

“Hang on a second,”I interrupted him. “I don’t trust you guys, we didn't modify ours at all but we know you were all trying to ‘improve’ yours.”

Gordon and Brains looked a little shifty but it was Scott that finally admitted the truth.

“We gave up on any improvements and started again and followed the instructions.”

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh but Kayo wasn't as generous and laughed in their faces. It took her a few minutes to calm down enough to straighten up and agree to their terms.

“You can drive,” I told her. “I’m not good with new things.” I heard John snort because he remembered having to teach me to drive my car after Brains tricked it out. Never again.

“Yeah, I wouldn't have let you anyway,” she told me. At least we knew where we stood.

Gordon wanted to drive since it was his idea with Scott as his co-pilot since Virgil had been voted as too heavy that he might unbalance the cart. Poor chonky thing.

We suited up with helmets and elbow and knee pads, the only safety gear we needed apparently, I would have preferred a full armoured body suit but these lot are dare devils and care nothing for safety beyond the basics. I swear, I once heard Scott quote ‘protect your melon, anything else is fine’.

I sent up a prayer to anyone that might actually be dumb enough to listen that they spare me from a broken neck by idiot family and got in beside Kayo. Apparently golf carts do not come with seat belts because obviously YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO RACE THEM!

“Hold on tight,” she grinned like an idiot, clearly loving life at that moment.

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!” Jeff counted down and then Grandma blew a whistle. We were off!

Kayo slammed her foot down on the accelerator and we shot forward at a whopping five mph, slowly climbing to ten.

We were quickly running out of runway but she showed no sign of slowing down for the turn that was coming up.

“Kay...maybe you should sl-”

“LEAN!” she yelled and I did as I was told, throwing my weight and upper body sideways with her. We lifted up on two wheels and slid onto the ramp. I screamed. Why must she terrify me like this? We had only just started! I gripped on to the frame for dear life and tried not to scream again as we rocketed down the ramp with the boys close to our bumper and clattered onto the sand.

Thankfully the sand slowled us down a little and I was able to catch my breath, hopefully not to fill my lungs so I could scream in terror again.

She had a careless way of driving, it was like she saw every bump, rock and patch of seaweed as a personal challenge, driving at them like she was in a video game and expecting me to grab coins along the way. Well I can tell you now, I wasn't letting go until this was all over.

I heard Gordon and Scott whooping like loons , almost level beside us. I risked a glance over and they were radiating pure crazy, but in a good way, clearly enjoying themselves and having a fabulous time. Weirdos. Only this lot could enjoy terrifying near death experiences as much. What happened to quiet days at home? What happened to sanity?

“Lockdown happened,” Kayo answered. Huh, guess I said that out loud.

She screeched us around another corner, taking one hand off the handle bars to grab my arm and haul me sideways when I didn't instinctively know to move.

“You could pay attention,” she huffed.

“I’m trying not to watch my life flashing before my eyes,” I snapped back, but that just made her laugh. That’s one thing I love about her, we can snipe at each other and get mouthy but we never take it seriously.

I did pay a little attention though, enough to see the boys hit what they thought was a sand dune and turned out to be a sand covered rock. Their cart came to a bone crunching halt and they both catapulted out.

“Wait, they might be hurt,” I yelled but she didn't even look back.

“Losers, they’ll be fine.”

She was right, they got straight back up, hauled the cart upright and got right back in, tearing off after us. They were zooming on the wonk as it looked like one of their front wheels was buckled and pointing the wrong way but at least they were moving. Now I didnt feel so bad about the fact that we were about to kick their butts.

We rounded another curve, managing three wheels this time which was a definite improvement. She was enjoying herself far too much, laughing like a Disney villain as she flung the poor cart around like she was in a race car.

We were rocking along at a speedy 12 mph when our wheel caught on some seaweed which wrapped around it and locked it up tight. We jumped out and were still yanking it free when the boys zoomed past us, yelling out taunting insults .

Kayo snatched up the last of the weed and threw it away, already back in the cart.

“Hurry up!” she hollered and I’d barely got one buttcheek on the seat before she was off. I flailed and managed to hang on to the frame and plant myself more firmly.

We sped after them and managed to catch up, hindered as they were by their buckled wheel and were neck and neck as we curved around the last bend, bumped over another sand dune and took an unscheduled dip in the sea, the water spraying up as we noooomed along but nothing was going to stop us now!

The boys were about a foot ahead of us and trying for that last burst of speed on the home stretch, the second ramp that would take us back onto the runway was in sight. We both bumped up on to it at the same time and felt it wobble. We had two choices, freeze or go faster, apparently freezing is not in the International Rescue vocabulary as both Gordon and Kayo slammed their feet down and squeezed another 2 mph out of the struggling engines.

We got up the ramp, crashing into each other as we tried to turn at the same time. There was a scuffle where Kayo yelled at me to kick them and stupidly I did actually try, all that did was give Scott a chance to lean over, grab my foot and wiggle it while I screamed.

We got straight and untangled and I hauled myself back into the seat for what felt like the hundredth time in ten minutes as we hit the home stretch, barrelling down the runway. Our audience dived out of the way as we screeched to a halt.

“Who won?” Gordon demanded to know.

“Oh, sorry, were we supposed to be judging this?” Jeff asked. “We weren’t paying attention.”

The boys and Kayo groaned, demanding a rematch. No way was I going through all that again so I gave up my seat to Virgil, I was done with the entire thing. All I wanted was a cup of coffee and a lie down. These guys would be the death of me.

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 26/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Rey was ready.

She was dressed in jeans, high-heeled boots, and a flowing top that exposed most of her back. It was sexy  enough for a concert, comfortable enough to wear all night, and most importantly, perfect for her inevitable confrontation with Ben Solo. Her hair was swept up in a half-ponytail and she had picked out a pair of silver pendant earrings for the occasion.

Her makeup was minimal in that it consisted mostly of nude tones, but she had taken more care than usual in applying it—she looked much better than she did during her daily bouts of tourism. A small bag completed her ensemble, containing the essentials: her wallet, phone, and car keys.

The concert venue was on the outskirts of the city, nestled between a massive parking garage, a few fast food restaurants, the rear end of a warehouse, and a few motels. A mediocre scene at best. Bozeman was not a city known for its animated nightlife: it was frequented by the tourists going or coming from Yellowstone and its inhabitants lived almost exclusively off of this influx of temporary visitors. This wasn’t the kind of place where tourists stayed for more than a night, not that many tourists would attend a rock concert in the first place.

Yet the parking was already full of  vehicles, their plates registered in Wyoming, Montana and Idaho. Tonight was going to be packed—a congregation of neighbors, friends, and visitors from the surrounding towns and ranches.

The entrance was a free-for-all, alcohol flowed freely as empty bottles of beer and stray cigarettes littered already the cluttered ground.

Rey took BB8 out for one more walk before locking her in the car with the window rolled down, making sure she had plenty of water and dog treats. She didn’t want to attract any more attention to her already infamous eyesore from 1977, so she had parked a little further away, near a McDonald's, where she had also spotted a familiar pickup truck. It featured a “Kylo REN” bumper sticker, the logo not unlike one of the posters near the entrance of the concert hall.

She hesitated. Should it go through the main entrance? He had mentioned an all-access backstage once; could she possibly come in through the back?

When in doubt, text him.

I’m here. Should I buy a ticket or do you have the backstage pass  you offered?

No response.

Shit.

He was probably busy.

She made her way behind the building and finally recognized one of the musicians (Skylar?) who was leaning against a wall, cigarette in hand. She approached him with her best smile.

“Hi, I 'm Rey, you know, a friend of Ben...uh...Kylo Ren’s. he told me something about a backstage pass, can I come in?”

Upon closer inspection, she noticed his broad shoulders, immaculately shaved head, and intricately tattooed neck and forearms. He deigned not to respond immediately. He lowered the eyes and practically leered at Rey from top to bottom, pausing to take a long drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke in her face.

“He didn't say anything to me. Nice try. Go through the front and pay the price.”

Rey winced. Something about this guy made her skin crawl, she could see in his eyes that this was all an act.

“Is Syed Ren is there? Can I talk to her?”

“What Syed is up to is none of your business.”

Okay...why was he acting like such a guard dog?

“Well,” she insisted, “in that case, maybe you can inform Kylo or Syed, wherever they are, that Rey is out here waiting for them?”

The musician took a step forward and bent slightly to reach Rey’s height, forcing her to reflexively take a step back. He was much taller than her. Classic intimidation technique; it discouraged escalation without attracting attention.

“Listen up, kid, I dunno who you think you are, but nobody’s gonna bother Kylo Ren. Wait your turn and pay your dues or get the hell out.”

Rey gritted her teeth. Her smile was acerbic. “Perfect. Let's do that, then.”

Idiot! She would’ve appreciated if Kylo and Syed had told her about Skylar’s garbage personality when she was still going back and forth about the whole maybe-I-should-follow-you-on-tour-and -drop-by-now-and-then idea. She was hoping she could be more forgiving to Kylo, but of course that proved to be useless. Now she only hoped he would break a leg tonight—literally. Fuck him and his rockstar life. Maybe he would draw the short straw one day and end up cleaning other people’s messes for a change. Maybe that would take him off of his grand fucking pedestal.

Eventually, with no other option (as evidenced by her very silent phone) Rey skirted back around the edge of the building to the entrance. She paid for a ticket—a paltry 19 dollars—and stepped inside.

The room was overheated, and already well full. Rey elbowed her way to the front as much as possible, getting as close as she could to the stage. Suddenly, she felt a hand press against her buttocks as she navigated through the crowd.

Hell, someone was going to pay very dearly for this.

She was spun around, swiftly grabbing a wrist while her fingers formed a vice-like grip around it. At the end of said wrist was a bearded man in a ridiculous hat, with an equally ridiculous expression on his face. He had expected, no doubt, to find her embarrassed and intimidated.

“Whose hand is this?” She yelled as loudly as she could, “because it just happened to grab my buttocks out of nowhere,”  she spat acidly.

The bearded man pulled his hand and tried to flee, but Rey held firmly. She looked him right in the eyes.

“Say, haven't you misplaced something?”

“Uh...hey...” mumbled the guy, visibly panicking now. Another girl jumped in to help her, grabbing the man’s shoulders to shove him off to the side.

“Get lost, there’s no room for pervs here!”

Soon, a group formed around them to collectively push the man out of the door. Rey’s heartbeat soared and suddenly she felt like her confidence was limitless. Yes, by the end of the concert, she would get ahold of Kylo and Syed—Skylar or no Skylar—to hell with waiting outside all night!

In a matter of minutes the lights went out. Amid the whistles and the cheers of the audience, Rey felt her heart skip a beat in recognizing the unmistakable silhouette of Ben Solo on the stage. He was all black again: black Doc Martens, black jeans, and a plain black crew neck t-shirt. Although his shirt was simple, it was very fitted, revealing the shape of his muscular  chest and broad shoulders. She remembered touching that chest, tracing the outline of those hard planes with one hand while using the other to dip below the waistband of those jeans.

Suddenly she felt unbearably hot.

But that was just because of how crowded it was. Right?

Somehow, there were only five people on stage. She looked for Syed in vain, her eyes widening with realization that the guitarist wasn’t there at all. What did that imply? Truth be told, she was a little disappointed; she’d had the every intention to deal with Syed too. It was strange how Rey felt like a target in what seemed to be a folie à deux between Syed and Kylo. There was no use in confronting one of them if the other got away.

She was surprised to find herself swaying to the rhythm of the music, whistling and clapping along with the audience. It must have been the music itself, a paradoxically beautiful cacophony that resonated with the rage she had buried inside and fit perfectly with the mood of the evening.

Kylo Ren felt it too. His voice was hoarser from the screaming, his breath more uneven, his stage presence even wilder than the last concert in Denver. Rey could see in the urgency of his body language a fury that seemed to spill out of him and into the microphone. It was almost a display of violence. Her own anger paled in comparison to his, the vast tidal wave of emotion that emanated from his being.

The atmosphere was electric, the crowd  unhinged. Rey knew the lyrics by heart, after a thousand kilometers worth of repetition, but she was still shocked to find herself belting the chorus at the top of her lungs with the rest. She admittedly knew nothing of the history of Kylo Ren, she didn’t know where she would find the story of his life (on the walls of some gallery?) or where they would end this unexpected journey. But at least she had found a new favorite band, and their familiar melodies had become her anthem—the anthem of her own journey. She would never forget this vintage car, or these desert roads which wound past rugged mountains, or the mesmerizing way Kylo’s hair fell to his shoulders. The dense, silken ebony  that framed his face in wild strands that stuck against his forehead when he was on stage.

The music stopped, the room became dark. Kylo Ren's voice rose in silence:

“This next song is about how we deal with the unexpected, inspired by someone who turned my life upside down. This is my song for her, "First Rain".

Rey felt herself blush to the roots of the hair. Was it a song for her?

Maybe it was for Syed? He hadn't specified anything, was it just her imagination? Did he know? Was she being watched?

Suddenly she found herself unable to move a muscle, frozen alone amidst a sea of nameless faces. Their eyes watched Kylo Ren intently, but him—he was looking directly at her. His gaze pierced through the crowd, unmistakable. He had written it for her. She immediately felt the urge to run, far, far away. But looking into his eyes, she found herself incapable of it.

His gaze held her captive. Dark and hypnotically odd, like his hair, like his clothes—like everything that was ever made in his image. His face was too long and his earlobes too detached, a round sliver of flesh peeking out from underneath of a curtain of black on each side of his face. She bet they were sensitive enough that if she pulled on them he would—

What on earth was happening to her? Was she really going to melt like a lovesick teenager for the first guy with a guitar who bothered to write a song for her? He didn’t even have a guitar.

But he sang words of love.

Better yet, he sang of other things: of a meeting that was more of a collision, of confrontation, of misunderstandings, of sharing secrets, of lies, so many lies...it was all there.

It was all written for her.

She wanted to put her own feelings into words, but her mouth was dry. Her lower half betrayed her desires as her heart hammered even harder. What was he trying to tell her, and, more importantly, what was she going to say in response?

When the music stopped the audience broke out in cheers, but Rey was struggling to breathe. He had sung the entire song while looking right into the eyes, so much so that the crowd around her had receded somewhat, providing them the semblance of privacy.

It was there that she found herself at the center of a circle of people, in the middle of Bozeman, Montana, and in some sense, at the center of the universe.

Then Kylo Ren broke the silence once more as the deafening roar of rock resumed, jolting the audience awake, and Rey was suddenly anonymous again, drowned by a sea of people once more.

She could barely hear the rest of the concert. She was furious with herself for falling into a trap as sickeningly cliche as a song in her name. It was unbearably romantic and...and irresistible.

She couldn't go on.

She left the room, feeling feverish, taking longer and longer strides until she made it to her car, where she collapsed onto the front seat with heaving breaths.

BB8 pawed at her and Rey let the dog bounce excitedly around the car.

She would wait here until the end of the concert, until Kylo and Syed were available. From where she was sitting she could see Kylo Ren’s truck, and she could just make out the entrance to the concert hall. They would be impossible to miss.

Rey was shaken, emotionally drained, even. That song had almost certainly lasted a few minutes, but it had seemed as though he had sung for hours.

Something had happened then, while his eyes held hers as his voice wrapped around her whole being. The room had suddenly felt deserted, like they were alone in the world. It had been so unexpectedly and deeply erotic that she had lost the notion of time.

She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or sob. Her skin felt tingly, crying out to be touched. She had never smoked in her life but she wanted a cigarette.

She grabbed the sweater she had left on the passenger seat, and buried her face in it before unleashing a scream that emptied out her entire lungs—a visceral cry  of anger, of frustration and of relief, simultaneously primal and liberating.

Finally she felt better, leaning her head back again before dozing off.

It was the movement around her that drew her out of drowsiness. The chaotic din of the audience leaving the venue, the roar of engines and bursts of random conversation.

How long had she slept? The concert was over, the people were leaving the premises. Soon she was surrounded only by the vehicles of the tech crew, and those of the Knights of Ren. She recognized the group, two women and two men, walking across the lot.

Rey got out of her car and leaned against the door, ankles crossed, as she scrutinized the darkness. Where was Kylo Ren? He better be out here.

A car approached. A dark grey SUV, which parked near the  pickup.

Rey’s heart began to pound in her chest when she recognized the silhouette in the driver’s seat—a leather-clad woman with a mohawk.

She shuddered. If Syed was there, Kylo would show up soon. Rey was going to call out to her when something stopped her in her tracks.

Syed was holding a knife.

Rey held both hands over her mouth to stifle the cry that threaten to escape her throat and give away her location as she slid down into a crouched position, praying she could just disappear. Syed slipped past the SUV and stopped in front of the black pickup. With one fluid motion, she slashed the rear-left tire, her fist clenching tightly around the hilt of the blade.

Then she directed her attention to the rear-right tire, until she had methodically slashed all of them. BB8 began baring her teeth and growling, but Rey coaxed her to be quiet.

This was highly unusual. Weren't Syed and Kylo supposed to be accomplices in some crazy scheme? Guided by intuition, Rey bent as far as she could in the direction of the Falcon’s boot, taking only a few moments to find what she needed.

Then she hushed BB8 again, who lay unhappily on the back seat, and silent as a shadow, she crossed the road in the direction of the concert hall.

[zen3to5]

J/H 4-14: Jackie Says Cheese

Following production order, the next few episodes - "Red and Stacey," "Eric's Hot Cousin," "The Third Wheel," and "An Eric Forman Christmas" all remain unchanged in this timeline. I imagine some of you are surprised "The Third Wheel" didn't come in for a rewrite, and I watched it multiple times looking for an opening myself, but nothing jumped out at me. "Jackie Says Cheese," on the other hand...

(This is another one that was only partially re-written. Some re-written scenes are sequential, and some aren't; you'll know those by the *** separating them. Enough material is the same that I think anyone familiar with the episode can recognize the context for all of these. Just to get us all on the same page: imagine the episode playing out as you know it up until the second scene dealing with Thomas...)

FF.Net AO3

***

INT. HUB - DAY   THOMAS continues to make his own mark as the “foreign kid:” he sits at a round table with TWO PRETTY GIRLS. Over at the wall table, FEZ watches with cold disapproval, while KELSO eats. “Long, Long Way from Home” by Foreigner plays on the jukebox.   THOMAS: (laughing) I don’t know. I’ve just always been good-looking.   He and the girls laugh some more.   FEZ: (to Kelso) Look at that foreign bastard. Cracking up the whores.   KELSO: Yup. That is one sexy accent.   FEZ: Hey, if I pretend to say something funny, will you laugh?   KELSO: What would you pretend to say?   Fez snorts and looks back to Thomas.   FEZ: That Thomas is shady. (to Kelso) And have you noticed he never says what country he’s from?   KELSO: (beat) What country are you from?   FEZ: What country are you from?   KELSO: America.   FEZ: Fine, mystery solved.   He scoffs and turns back to stewing.

***   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY   A quiet afternoon. HYDE reads in his chair, DONNA reads on the couch, and JACKIE paces up and down the room.   Kelso enters through the basement door.   KELSO: Hey.   Jackie immediately crosses to him.   JACKIE: Michael, I’m broke! I had to buy generic hair conditioner. And now, I have split ends.   KELSO: Well, no one is gonna notice that, baby.   HYDE: (to Jackie) Yeah, they’ll all be looking at that monster zit.   Kelso shrugs, nods, and takes a seat on the couch.   JACKIE: (to Hyde) I have to ration my cover-up. (to Kelso) So find a job already!   KELSO: I’m trying, okay? It’s tough out there.   HYDE: Kelso, you’ve been down here in the basement all day, reading the funnies.   KELSO: And the next page over’s the want ads! I’m getting to it!   Jackie glares down at Kelso, who tries not to look guilty.   DONNA: What about that new store at the mall? The Cheese Palace.   HYDE: “Where curd is king?”   DONNA: The very same.   KELSO: Nah. I saw that place. They’re only hiring for cheese maidens to hand out the free samples. Girl maidens. You know, with boobs and stuff.   Donna looks up at Jackie.   DONNA: Hey, you know who’s an actual girl with boobs and stuff?   JACKIE: Oh, Donna, you don’t have to get a job just for me.   DONNA: I was talking about you, pimple-chin.   JACKIE: Oh, no, no, no, no. I am not getting a job. A job is for poor people. I am a rich person who doesn’t have money. Big diff.   Donna and Hyde roll their eyes.   Kelso looks up at Jackie, leans closer.   KELSO: Hey, is that a blackhead?   Jackie recoils at the thought.   JACKIE: NOOOOOO!   CUT TO:   INT. MALL – DAY   On a mildly busy shopping day, Jackie stands in the courtyard, in full cheese maiden attire, with a tray of free samples. She meekly offers it up to passers-by, who all ignore her.   JACKIE: Cheddar? Cheddar? Cheddar?   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Working in the Coal Mine” by Lee Dorsey.   INT. MALL – DAY   Right where we left off. Jackie keeps offering her cheese samples to patrons, none of whom seem interested. But for each effort, Jackie has a rhyme.   JACKIE: Try the Swiss. You can’t miss. Try the Cheddar. It’s even better.   Hyde comes around the corner and stops by Jackie. He looks down at the floor.   HYDE: The floor’s real shiny, and I see your heinie.   Jackie groans, hits him in the chest.   HYDE: Hey, the cheese maiden hit me! Cheese guards, seize her!   JACKIE: God, this job is awful! I’m starting to glisten!   HYDE: You mean, sweat?   JACKIE: No. Girls don’t sweat. Sweating is for boys and pigs. Girls glisten.   HYDE: Like a Christmas ham.   Undeterred by Jackie’s glare, he helps himself to some cheese samples.   JACKIE: Where is Michael? The only reason I have this job is so he and I can be together.   HYDE: In the basement, eating Fritos. (Jackie gasps) Yeah, if he sends in 80 empty Frito bags, he gets a remote-control car.   JACKIE: I’m working for our love, and he’s trying to get a toy car?   HYDE: (shrugs) Hey, bright side is, all that “glisten’s” pushed that blackhead out.   Jackie’s hand goes to her chin as Hyde takes some more cheese.   BUMPER   INT. BASEMENT – DAY   As Donna and Kelso watch TV (Kelso with a bag of Fritos), Fez paces up and down the room, muttering to himself.   FEZ: Thomas. Thomas. Thomas!   He stops, leans on the back of Hyde’s chair.   FEZ (cont’d): What I have to do is show everyone that I am cooler than Thomas. You know, I once saw the Fonzie do something on TV that just might do the trick.   CUT TO:   EXT. BEACH – DAY   FANTASY SEQUENCE. The whole gang, plus Thomas and the two girls from earlier, are gathered on a pier. Fez is the Fonz, complete with leather jacket, while everyone else is dressed for the beach.   FEZ: I am now going to jump over a shark on water skis to prove that I’m the coolest foreign exchange student in Point Place.   THOMAS: (scoffs) He’ll never make it.   DONNA: Shut up. He can do it. He’s – the Fez!   The gang all nod in support.   FEZ: Okay. Here I go. Hit it.   And off he goes, to a series of obviously blue-screened shots miming water skiing and stock footage of a great white shark. Fez takes time to break the fourth wall with a smile and a thumbs up.   Back at the pier, the gang cluster together, Donna holding onto ERIC and Jackie surrounded by Hyde and Kelso.   ERIC: He’s crazy, man! He’s crazy!   HYDE: He’s at the ramp!   An even more artificial shot fakes the act of jumping the shark as Fez cries out in triumph. Cut to him climbing back onto the pier and receiving congratulatory cheers, pats, punches, and hugs by the gang and Thomas’s two girls.   JACKIE: You suck, Thomas!   Thomas’s face runs with artificial sitcom tears.   ERIC: Fez, you jumped that shark, and you’re not even wet.   FEZ: That’s ‘cause I’m cool-a-mundo. Ai!   He gives two thumbs up and grins.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY   Back to reality. Fez is grinning here too. He looks down at Donna and Kelso.   FEZ: What do you think?   DONNA: Not only is that the worst idea I’ve ever heard, it was the worst moment in television history.   FEZ: (beat) Yeah, you’re right. I stopped watching after that episode.   KELSO: I kinda liked it.   Donna gives him a long stare; he inches away from her.   FEZ: THOMAS!   And back to pacing he goes.   ***   EXT. ROAD – NIGHT   Kelso’s Samba out on the dark backwoods’ streets. Fez is behind the wheel, Kelso in the passenger’s seat, and Thomas right behind them, an arm on either chair.   THOMAS: How exciting. My first American road trip. I can’t wait to see Lake Dillhole.   Fez, with a small, sly grin, pulls over and puts her in park.   FEZ: Well, the wait is over. We’re here. (to Thomas) Now, hop out, you crazy son of a gun.   Thomas, beaming, jumps out of the van. Kelso takes a careful look around the area.   KELSO: This is the Michigan border.   FEZ: Well, what do you know?   Thomas looks in through the drivers’ side window.   THOMAS: So where is Lake Dillhole?   FEZ: (pointing) Oh, it’s right there, behind the Get Bent Memorial. So, get bent, dill-hole!   He throws the van back into drive and takes off down the road. He and Kelso share a quiet laugh.   KELSO: That was a sweet burn, man.   FEZ: You don’t have to tell me.   KELSO: (beat) I don’t wanna take away from your moment, but we did just leave a high school kid stranded in the middle of nowhere, and his host parents are probably gonna want to look for him. (beat) And the cops.   He and Fez share a look. Fez spins the wheel, and they both lurch as the van turns around.   CUT TO:   INT. MALL – NIGHT   Jackie on the night shift. She continues to fail at drawing in samplers. Donna watches her with a big smile from the rim of a large plant pot, while Hyde stands just off to her side, sneaking cheese samples as she tries to solicit shoppers.   JACKIE: (to patrons) The Gouda’s so good-a. The Havarti’s a party.   Hyde reaches for a sample further down the tray. Jackie slaps his hand away.   JACKIE (cont’d): Quit it! Steven, why do you keep eating all my cheese?   HYDE:  We’re in Wisconsin. (takes a bite) Hey, this Havarti is a party!   He motions for Donna to come over. She joins them and takes a sample herself.   JACKIE: Oh, my God, this is awful! A few minutes ago, I smelled stinky cheese. And it was me!   HYDE: Hey, I stink after work too. Of course, that stink’s got nothing to do with work. And ganja ain’t no Gouda.   Jackie shakes her head, passes him the whole cheese tray and starts to walk away. Hyde and Donna follow.   HYDE (cont’d): Come on, Jackie. This can’t be that bad.   DONNA: Yeah. And you got this job so you could be with Kelso. I mean, doesn’t that make it satisfying?   JACKIE: NO!   Kelso and Fez come around the corner. Kelso smiles at Jackie, but she holds a finger up before he can say a word.   JACKIE (cont’d): Michael, I love you, but I am not cut out for work. I’m cut out for having rich people give me things. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.   Just as she says this, her MANAGER comes up behind her and presents her with an envelope. He walks back into the store as Jackie opens it up.   JACKIE (cont’d): Oh, my gosh. It’s a check! And that’s my name! Mine!   She shows it off to Hyde, bobbing on her feet. Kelso starts to bob too.   KELSO: (to Jackie) All right, so we can stay together!   JACKIE: Yeah, and I can still be rich!   KELSO: Yeah! You know, we deserve a celebration. Hey, let’s go buy me a remote-control car.   JACKIE: No, Michael. Money doesn’t grow on trees. (gasps) Money doesn’t grow on trees. You know, I think having a job is changing me. Okay, think about it: a whole new me.   HYDE, FEZ, DONNA, & KELSO: (beat) That’d be great.   Jackie pouts at them all, takes back her cheese tray, and heads out into the courtyard.

[magicalmischel]

10 Years of Merlin & Arthur - Day Five: AU

Oh my god he was going to be so late! Merlin couldn't believe that out of all the days of this week, he had to oversleep today, when he was already supposed to be at the meeting!

 He quickly glanced at the time as he sped up the car. Twenty minutes late was too much already, he couldn't waste time with the speed limit.

 But every action had its consequences.

 Not five minutes later, while he was attempting to park the car as quickly as possible, he heard a loud crash.

 “Oh no, no no no no, please no,” he started pleading as he finished parking and got out of the car. “No,” he exclaimed as he noticed he destroyed bumper of the car next to his. He wished he could take it back, but the damage was already done.

 What was he going to do now? He couldn't just run and not take responsibility, but he also really needed to get to the meeting or he'd lose his job!

 He just stood on the spot, frozen, for several seconds, before he finally made a frantic decision. And probably another stupid one judging by the pressure he was under. But he couldn't waste any more time. He quickly opened the door of his car, found a pen in the glove compartment and a piece of paper that he tore off from one of the papers he'd prepared for the meeting (thank god he'd brought a few blank papers as well), and he wrote a little message there.

  I accidentally bumped your bumper. I'm really in a hurry,

so please call or text me and we'll sort it out later.

  Merlin Emrys

020x xxxx

 With that done, Merlin put the paper behind the windscreen wiper of the car he just hit, and then shoved the pen into his pocket.

 He couldn't wait any longer and started running towards the building where the meeting was taking place.

 xoXÖXox

 Arthur was just on his way from a very unsuccessful and disappointing date with a guy who had claimed to be at least ten years younger than he really was, when he spotted his car. At first he didn't notice the damage. Instead, he sighed and realized that there was only one possible explanation for his unlucky love life.

 He was cursed. Yes, that was it.

 When he finally went to his car and fished out the car keys from his pocket, he finally noticed a little piece of paper stuck behind one of the windscreen wipers.

 He frowned. What was that?

 He took the paper and read the message. “Oh my god, are you serious?” he exclaimed as he rounded the car and saw the totally destroyed bumper.

 That was it! He was definitely cursed. And this was the proof.

 He grabbed his phone and immediately dialled the number. How could this person just accidentally hit his car? Was whoever did this blind?

 When the person picked up, Arthur didn't wait and started yelling. “You hit my car? What were you thinking? Do you even know how much is this going to cost?-”

“I'm so sorry, I can't talk right now, I'll call you later, okay? I'm really sorry!” And he ended the call.

 Arthur stood there for a few seconds, angry at that Merlin. Who the hell did he think he was?

 Once Arthur got home that evening, he did the first thing that anyone would do. He sat down in front of his computer and searched for a person called Merlin Emrys who lived in the same city.

 And a little while later, he finally found him.

  Oh no, he's hot.

 Merlin Emrys, a fashion designer and an author. His bestselling novel – We All Matter and Here's Why You Do Too.

 Arthur swallowed. Yes, he was the son of one of the most famous and richest person in the entire city and pretty much everyone knew who he was, but compared to this Merlin, he felt like nobody important... look at all that Merlin's already accomplished! And he was like 24 or something.

 Huh. Maybe he should read his book.

 With a sigh and after a hot cup of tea, Arthur finally picked up his phone and dialled the number again. Before he managed to start the call though, Merlin was already calling him.

 The word destiny came to Arthur's mind, but soon he dismissed it and answered the call.

 “Urgh, finally. You hit my car!” he started with a complaint.

 “I know, I'm so sorry! I was really late for this meeting, and I wasn't looking, it's entirely my fault.”

 Arthur nodded to himself as he clicked on another photo of Merlin on the internet. How could this guy be so cute and hot at the same time? Oh, and he had Twitter, too!

 “Do you have any idea how much this will cost?” Arthur asked him.

 “Not really?”

 He could hear an awkward laugh from Merlin and his anger almost disappeared.

 “That'd be about 700 pounds.”

 The awkward laugh was quickly replaced by a loud swallow. Yes, it was a very expensive car. The damage wasn't that serious though.

 “Uh . . .”

 “I could lower the price for you, if you want,” Arthur suggested before he could stop himself. Yes, he was desperately alone, but that didn't mean he had to jump at every stupid chance to get a date because very obviously, this was a bad idea. On the other hand, he was clearly cursed, so this most likely wouldn't work.

 For a few seconds, there was silence, and just when Arthur wanted to say it was a joke, Merlin spoke.

 “Okay. What do you have in mind?”

 Arthur raised his eyebrows. What was the chance that Merlin was even attracted to men in the first place? He'd never met the guy!

 He swallowed. “A date?”

 “A date?”

 Arthur nodded and confirmed, “a date.”

 Again, for a few seconds there was silence. And then, “what's your name then?”

 Was Merlin seriously considering this? Was he that desperate? Or poor?

 “Arthur Pendragon.”

 A sharp intake of breath. “The Arthur Pendragon?”

 Arthur nodded. “Most likely, yeah.”

 “I hit the car of the Arthur Pendragon?”

 Arthur rolled his eyes.

 “I'm so sorry Mr Pendragon-”

 “You can just call me Arthur.”

 “I'm so sorry Arthur! I should have looked where the car was going, I shouldn't have tried to park in a hurry, I-”

 “Would you please calm down?” Arthur had to stand up to get a drink after he said that. “It's just a car, you didn't actually hurt anyone.”

 “Sorry.”

 “And stop apologizing.”

 “. . . Sorry.”

 Arthur rolled his eyes again. So far, Merlin seemed likeable. And if he was really okay to go on a date, Arthur would do everything to make it the best date ever. Or it didn't even really have to be a date. Arthur had been very lonely lately, so he'd be fine with someone, anyone, keeping him company for a few hours. Someone who wasn't a jerk and a liar like his last date.

 “So is that a deal?” Merlin asked after a while. “The date?”

 Arthur's heart started beating a little bit faster.

 “Yes,” he said. “It's a deal.”

 “Great,” he heard Merlin say. He could hear him smiling.

 Was this actually happening? Did he just plan another date with a guy he'd never even met or heard of until a few minutes ago?

 Was his curse broken?

 “I'll pick you up, say, this Friday around six?”

 He heard another soft laugh. “Perfect. I'll text you the address.”

 Surprisingly, Arthur found himself smiling as well.

 The call ended and Arthur had to sit down again. His anger had turned into excitement, and another chance at love.

 Maybe this date would end in a disaster and he'd regret everything later. Or it might turn out that this Merlin guy was actually really awesome, and that the damaged car was the best thing that could have ever happened to him.

 A new tweet by Merlin appeared on the screen: Omg I'm going on a date!! *heart eyes emoji*

 Arthur smiled. He had a feeling that it would be the latter.

Based on a real story, and long story short - they got married.

Also posted on FFN and AO3. Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!

[boshawbearclaw]

Flames In The Ashes Chapter 6

Warning in general, smut for days bruh,

@kittywolfy

9 hours after they crashed into the wonderful world of dreams, Lucas woke up layin' in the middle of Raw dog and Randy, their limbs entangled around Lucas like a safety blanket. Lucas had his arms around each of their shoulders, subconsciously pulling them closer, he leans a little to each side to pepper kisses onto their foreheads.

For once in years, he feels content and happy, but that moment was short lived because his alarm went off, "Goddammit, fuckin' loud piece of shit." He grumbles as he reaches over to his grab his phone with his right hand, bringing it closer to his face, his eyes harshly adjusts to the screen, squinting his eyes he makes out the time, 08:00AM. he shuts that shit down by tapping the on the part of the screen where it says 'cancel'.

Raw dog burries his face into Lucas' neck, grumbling about not having the stamina to run in gym class, Randy woke up at the same time as Lucas so he was just staring at his lovers face while smiling softly and stroking Lucas' little stomach hairs.

Lucas' phone buzzed 20 times during the night but they were out like a light, as he scrolls through the texts the more frustrated he becomes with each word he reads, there is no reason as to why they need to be so damn rude to him.

Lucas huffs and tosses his phone onto a random pile of clothes, "What's wrong, Lucas?" Randy asks softly, making Lucas look at him, he leans forward and rubs his forehead against Randy's at an attempt at affection. Randy smiles then leans in closer to fill in the space between them with a chaste kiss.

"I have to go to work, I'll be back later. I love you both." Lucas states as he gets up, raw dog unwillingly detangles his limbs with soft grumbles, the man scoots closer to Randy and wrapped his arms around him nuzzling his chest. Lucas watched the display with a smirk on his face.

''S good to be back, now to get dressed'' he thinks to himself, he turns back to face his closet and grabs random shit and puts them on, a black def Leppard shirt with a worn flannel and worn jeans with holes in the knees.

Lucas shuffles tiredly into the kitchen to make himself breakfast, a simple sandwhich really, he'll eat anything he can get his hands on, the music playing on the radio in the kitchen droned on as he finished making his sandwich, he ate quickly and when he was done eating he put up his dished then shuffled to the door and put his boots on before leaving.

He jumped down his steps, grunting a little when his booted feet his the ground harder than he intended, he walked over to his truck and got into it, he grabs the keys from the sun visor and stuck them into the ignition, turning the keys to start the car.

Lucas smiled at the sound of the engine roaring to life, he then took off down the dirt road towards the entrance to the trailer park, passing the gate he speeds down the road until he starts passing cars, he then grabs his phone from his pocket that he grabbed and stuffed into there before he left.

Lucas searches his texts for the directions on where the fuck to go, he grunts in annoyance when he reads the part where it says he needs to go to Atlanta for the table reading. Lucas turns on the radio and switches over to the hair bands station and turns up the volume.

As he entered city limits he was met with lots of people and cars everywhere, he was overwhelmed to say the least. Lucas sat at the first stoplight of today, the car next to him had a blonde soccer mom and her little shits in the back of her little mini van, already he was showing signs of his frequent aggressive behavior today.

He stared and rolled his eyes as she was on the phone with some fuck he didnt care about, her pink and purple yoga pants were obnoxious, his mind wandered absently as ge continues to stare. Lucas thought of what itd be like if he ate her flesh.

The rest of his thought was interrupted by the car behind him honking their horn, he retaliates by flipping them off and speeding off towards the offices, when he gets to the parking lot of the building he finds a random spot and parks there, shutting off the truck and plucking out the keys, he gets out and stuffs them in his pocket.

Lucas walks into the building and was met with a security guard and metal detector checkpoint, 'Fuck this shit' he grumbled as he walked over to the line, he stood out in this type of crowd considering everyone else wore professional clothing but he wore something a redneck would wear.

"Sir, empty your pockets and put any items in the tub then step through the metal detector, please." The guard said, Lucas snapped out of his stupor and did what the guard said, emptied his pockets then walked through the detector, beeps were heard as the guards computer monitor highlights Lucas' head, chest and crotch.

"Do you have any jewelry that cant be removed like piercings?" The guard questions, Lucas blushes and nods, "oh, ok you can head on in then." The guard motions twoards the hall just past the metal detector, "mhm." Lucas said simply, grabbing his shit that sat in the tub thing, he then head twoards the room that the table reading is being held.

"234, no, 235,no, ah 236." He knocked on the door with the shave and haircut tune, he waited there a moment before the door opened and the cute bear greeted him with a smile, "Lucas your here! Thats great, come sit down we're just about to start." Kirkman moves outta the way enough for him to get into the room, he shut the door behind Lucas, ushering him to his seat in between two guys, one guy had short curly hair and an angular jaw and the other that straight choppy hair with chin fuzz and sunglasses on.

"Everyone this is Lucas Boshaw, our own piece of Georgia history for the show, hes a little shy so be nice." Kirkman announced as Lucas got seated, they all looked at him with curious stares, the raven haired man shifts uncomfortably under the heavy gazes of the people at the large table.

"Lets get started, so, the episode starts with rick showing up at a gas station walking around, he then encounters a little girl, he calls out to her then she turns around and he finds out that the little girl was a zombie, in a panic he pulls out his Python revolver and pops her in the head, then the intro scene starts."

Everyone looked intrigued, even Lucas as he nodded his head slightly in agreement, "And then it starts as if everything was normal, Rick and his partner Shane sitting off to the side of the road eating lunch when they get a call on their radio about and hit and run turned full on high-speed chase, when they get there there's a shoot out. Then Rick gets shot, it shows him in the hospital getting visited by Shane but unbeknownst to him that a few months go by,-"

Everyone is so focused on what kirkman is explaining that theyre all staring at him like zombies looking at fresh meat, "- The camera starts at the ground following some roughed up boots, Lucas', and music starts playing, preferably something that came out before the 2000s, he continues walking when he stumbles across Rick calling for help. The music then cuts fades out when lucas takes off his head phones." The boss continues to fill everyones head with the script.

In the middle of Jon Bernthol's question about his character a ringtone shouted from someones pocket, "country roads take me home!" Some of giggled at Lucas' ringtone he rushed to answer it, "shit sorry hoss hold on, what do you want? No i havent seen him...well if i do later ill tell Stanley your looking for him,....ok Lamar, bye." Lucas shuts off his phone as he apologized for the disruption.

As the meeting went on they introduced themselves to each other, apparently the british guy on Lucas' right was named Andrew Lincoln who plays Rick Grimes, and to his left was Norman Reedus who plays Daryl Dixon, and the rest of the actors and actresses are Melissa McBride as Carol Pelletier, Chandler Riggs as Carl Grimes, Steven Yeun as Glenn Rhee, Lennie James as Morgan Jones, Laurie Holden as Andrea, Sarah Wayne Callies ad Lori Grimes, IronE Singleton as T-dog, Michael Rooker as Merle Dixon, Jeffrey DeMunn as Dale Horvath.

Apparently kirkman had the whole first season written out and planned already, the actors, actresses and extras and crew already. At the end of the table reading they were told to come in tomorrow to start shooting, when everyone left to go towards the parking lot, Lucas had stopped next to his truck and sat on the hood and pulled out his virgins slims and a lighter.

Norman appeared in his peripheral vision, Lucas jumped slightly, he turned to look at the squinting man. "You're Lucas right? How You uh adjusting to your new life so far?" Norman asked as he leaned against the trucks bumper, "It's going way better than i thought it would, to be honest."

Norman nodded with a smile, scooting closer to Lucas he started whispering, "your friends with Robert kirkman right? If you tell him to not kill off my character in the first season ill let you fuck me." Norman begs, Lucas raised his eyebrows, "Really? You'll let me fuck you if i convince kirkman to not kill off your character? Christ you're bold, Mm alright I'll talk to him." Lucas said softly, Normans face lit up when the other man agreed.

The older man shot forward and hugged Lucas, he gasped softly in surprise, "Thank you so much Lucas, oh god you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that." Norman squeaks into Lucas' stomach, "Do um do you wanna fuck me now? Or later." Norman said quietly as he let go of Lucas, the man nodded and hopped down from the hood.

Norman smiled sweetly at Lucas, "Get in Bubba, we need to make a stop before i go to town on your ass, heh." Lucas said as he rounded the side of his truck and got inside it, Norman got in the passenger seat as Lucas started the truck. They start their destination back twoards the trailer park.

A mile or 2 after they drove past city limits they stopped at a truck stop for some cigarettes and dill pickle flavored sun flower seeds, the heat of the Georgia sun showed as beads of sweat dribbles down the sides of their faces, Lucas parked the truck and got out, Norman following behind him closely.

On their way through the parking lot they spot an expensive looking green mini van, Lucas scoffs and continues on. Once they enter the shop Lucas immediately figured out who that mini van belong to, a rich suburban family wearing matching clothes were in the candy section picking out their selection of sugary snacks.

By the looks of them they're obviously tourists.

The mother with the 'may i speak to your manager' haircut turns to look at who walked in the store, once she spotted them she got uncomfortable as she stared at the tattooed man who stands over 6 feet with a muscular body and handsome but dangerous look about him.

Lucas sticks out his split tongue and flicks it lewdly in her direction, she blushes and looks away which causes Lucas to smirk, he strolled down the same candy isle, staring at the possible goodies Hangin' on the rack.

Norman scampers over to him, huddling close to him, "C'mon sweety lets see what your dad found." The mom said, Lucas glanced behind him and smirked when the mother blinked in his direction. Once they grab what they want they head over to the cash register, little goodies grasped in their hands.

They dropped 'em onto the counter with a clang, the cashier jumps slightly, the young girl behind the register starts checking out their items and puts them in a plastic bag, "Your total is $21.98." She states, Lucas nods and grabs a 20 and a 5 from his wallet that was previously in his back pocket, he waved her goodbye and leaves with the bag of goodies in his hand, Norman follows him back to the truck.

Soon the pair were on the road heading twoards their destination, 5 miles before the trailer park is when Lucas remembered that he has his best friends waiting for him, with that in mind he pulls over to the side of the road and shuts the trucks engine off. "Why are we stopping?" Norman questions, Lucas didn't say anything as he got out of the cab and rounded the side over to the passenger side.

He opened the door and pulled Norman out of the seat, using his large body to press against Normans smaller one, Lucas kisses his lips softly and nibbles on them with care, Lucas' lanky hands grasped at the mans ass. Moans escaped their throats as they hump each other feverishly, Norman undoes his own button and zipper so he could push down his pants and briefs.

Lucas stared hungrily at Norman, an animalistic look in his eyes that frightened the older man but made him even more turned on, Lucas flipped him around and undid his jeans as well, he also grabbed some lube from underneath the passenger seat and squirted some onto his aching cock, he chucks it onto the floor of the truck before he spreads the mans ass apart and slides his cock against the other man's hole.

Norman whines, "Please Lucas, fuck me already, i cant wait any longer.", Lucas smirked before sinking his large pierced cock into his winking pink hole, Norman winces a little but gets used to the fullness moments later, " Aah fuck, you're fucking cock is so big, i feel like im gonna split apart!" Norman reached out behind himself and holds open his cheeks.

Growls are heard as Lucas plunges his cock into Norman, nothing was on their mind besides the feeling of intense pleasure and heat swirling around in the pits of their gut, not even the fact that they might get caught by the highway Patrol or the families coming in or out of Atlanta, "Hnng fuck Norman, you feel so good,,." Lucas moans as he leans over the other man, biting the soft fleshy junction between his neck and shoulder.

Norman starts starts to get wrigley as he nears his climax, Lucas drools on his back as his own mouth hung open while he pounded Norman's ass, minutes of multiplying heated pleasure later, Lucas' thrusts became more erratic as he neared his own climax, "Argh fuck fuck fuck!" Lucas shouted as he came inside Normans hole.

They stayed like that for a minute before Lucas hucked his pants up and knelt down onto the dirt, he spread Norman's sore hole and started to lather the winking pink hole with his split tongue, soothing the slight bruising and miniscule tears while slurping up the cum that leaks out.

Lucas reaches through Norman's legs and grabs his aching dick, jerking him off at an agonizingly slow pace, "Aahh, fuck me, mm im gonna cum!" He yells into his fore arm, Lucas smirked before he began pushing his tongue in and out of Norman's ass.

Moments later the man was pushed over his edge, he came with a shout immediately after, his whole body shivered as cum spurted out of his cock. Lucas was done with licking him up a moment later, he got up off his knees and sucked on his fingers while Norman pulled his pants back up and buttoned them close.

Lucas stopped his finger licking to make a joke about how the mans ass is, "Finger lickin' good!" Norman turned around with a cute smile on his face, Lucas smirked at his face before kissing his lips softly while grabbing his bruised hips gently.

Lucas pulls away first and helps him into the truck before walking around the cab to get into the truck and starts the engine.

"Im gonna drop you off at the office so you can get on your bike and ride home, i don't think youd like my abode, heh." Lucas says before making his way back to Atlanta, the ride was mostly quiet save for the hair band playing on the radio, they made it back before sundown so that gave Norman to go home so he could do everything he needs to do before bed time.

An hour later Lucas was eating dinner with Randy and Raw dog, they later go to bed tangled in each other's limbs

"Sweet dreams, boys."

[mrkwonandmrchoibabygirl]

BARED TO HIM- SEUNGRI SCENARIO PT.1

ALL RIGHTS ARE GOING TO SILVIA DAY FOR HER BOOK CROSSFIRE BARED TO YOU I AM ONLY EDITING!

Genre:Smut/Fluff/Angst

Rated:NC-17

PAIRING: Seungri x Reader

word count: 5,040

Part.1 Part.2

“We should head to a bar and celebrate.” I wasn’t surprised by my roommate’s emphatic pronouncement. Jung Hae found excuses to celebrate, no matter how small and inconsequential. I’d always considered it part of his charm. “I’m sure drinking the night before starting a new job is a bad idea.”

“Come on,Y/N.” Hae sat on our new living room floor amid a half-dozen moving boxes and flashed his winning smile. We’d been unpacking for days, yet he still looked amazing. Leanly built, dark-haired, and Brown-eyed, Hae was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I might have resented that if he hadn’t been the dearest person on earth to me.

“I’m not talking about a bender,” he insisted. “Just a glass of wine or two. We can hit a happy hour and be in by eight.” “I don’t know if I’ll make it back in time.” I gestured at my yoga pants and fitted workout tank. “After I time the walk to work, I’m going to hit the gym.” “Walk fast, work out faster.” Hae’s perfectly executed arched brow made me laugh. I fully expected his million-dollar face to appear on billboards and fashion magazines all over the world one day. No matter his expression, he was a knockout. “How about tomorrow after work?” I offered as a substitute. “If I make it through the day, that’ll be worth celebrating.” “Deal. I’m breaking in the new kitchen for dinner.” “Uh…” Cooking was one of Hae’s joys, but it wasn’t one of his talents. “Great.” Blowing a wayward strand of hair off his face, he grinned at me. “We’ve got a kitchen most restaurants would kill for. There’s no way to screw up a meal in there.” Dubious, I headed out with a wave, choosing to avoid a conversation about cooking. Taking the elevator down to the first floor, I smiled at the doorman when he let me out to the street with a flourish. The moment I stepped outside, the smells and sounds of Manhattan embraced me and invited me to explore. I was not merely across the country from my former home in California, but seemingly worlds away. Two major metropolises—one endlessly temperate and sensually lazy, the other teeming with life and frenetic energy. In my dreams, I’d imagining living in a walkup in Brooklyn, but being a dutiful daughter, I found myself on the Upper West Side instead. If not for Hae living with me, I would’ve been miserably lonely in the sprawling apartment that cost more per month than most people made in a year. The doorman tipped his hat to me. “Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. Will you need a cab this evening?” “No thanks, Tom.” I rocked onto the rounded heels of my fitness shoes. “I’ll be walking.” He smiled. “It’s cooled down from this afternoon. Should be nice.” “I’ve been told I should enjoy the June weather before it gets wicked hot.” “Very good advice, Miss Y/L/N.” Stepping out from under the modern glass entrance overhang that somehow meshed with the age of the building and its neighbors, I enjoyed the relative quiet of my tree-lined street before I reached the bustle and flow of traffic on Broadway. One day soon, I hoped to blend right in, but for now I still felt like a fraudulent New Yorker. I had the address and the job, but I was still wary of the subway and had trouble hailing cabs. I tried not to walk around wide-eyed and distracted, but it was hard. There was just so much to see and experience. The sensory input was astonishing—the smell of vehicle exhaust mixed with food from vendor carts, the shouts of hawkers blended with music from street entertainers, the awe-inspiring range of faces and styles and accents, the gorgeous architectural wonders…And the cars. Jesus Christ. The frenetic flow of tightly packed cars was unlike anything I’d ever seen anywhere. There was always an ambulance, patrol car, or fire engine trying to part the flood of yellow taxis with the electronic wail of ear-splitting sirens. I was in awe of the lumbering garbage trucks that navigated tiny oneway streets and the package delivery drivers who braved the bumper-to-bumper traffic while facing rigid deadlines. Real New Yorkers cruised right through it all, their love for the city as comfortable and familiar as a favorite pair of shoes. They didn’t view the steam billowing from potholes and vents in the sidewalks with romantic delight and they didn’t blink an eye when the ground vibrated beneath their feet as the subway roared by below, while I grinned like an idiot and flexed my toes. New York was a brand new love affair for me. I was starry-eyed and it showed. So I had to really work at playing it cool as I made my way over to the building where I would be working. As far as my job went, at least, I’d gotten my way. I wanted to make a living based on my own merits and that meant an entry-level position. Starting the next morning, I would be the assistant to Mark Garrity at Waters Field & Leaman, one of the preeminent advertising agencies in the US. My stepfather, megafinancier Richard Johns, had been annoyed when I took the job, pointing out that if I’d been less prideful I could’ve worked for a friend of his instead and reaped the benefits of that connection. “You’re as stubborn as your father,” he’d said. “It’ll take him forever to pay off your student loans on a cop’s salary.” That had been a major fight, with my dad unwilling to back down. “Hell if another man’s gonna pay for my daughter’s education,” Victor Y/L/N had said when Johns made the offer. I respected that. I suspected Johns did, too, although he would never admit it. I understood both men’s sides, because I’d fought to pay off the loans myself…and lost. It was a point of pride for my father. My mother had refused to marry him, but he’d never wavered from his determination to be my dad in every way possible. Knowing it was pointless to get riled up over old frustrations, I focused on getting to work as quickly as possible. I’d deliberately chosen to clock the short trip during a busy time on a Monday, so I was pleased when I reached the Seunghyun’s Building, which housed Waters Field & Leaman, in less than thirty minutes. I tipped my head back and followed the line of the building all the way up to the slender ribbon of sky. The Seunghyun’s Company was seriously impressive, a sleek spire of gleaming sapphire that pierced the clouds. I knew from my previous interviews that the interior on the other side of the ornate copper-framed revolving doors was just as awe-inspiring, with golden-veined marble floors and walls, and brushed aluminum security desk and turnstiles. I pulled my new ID card out of the inner pocket of my pants and held it up for the two guards in black business suits at the desk. They stopped me anyway, no doubt because I was majorly underdressed, but then they cleared me through. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, I’d have a general time frame for the whole route from door to door. Score. I was walking toward the bank of elevators when a svelte, beautifully groomed brunette caught her purse on a turnstile and upended it, spilling a deluge of change. Coins rained onto the marble and rolled merrily away, and I watched people dodge the chaos and keep going as if they didn’t see it. I winced in sympathy and crouched to help the woman collect her money, as did one of the guards. “Thank you,” she said, shooting me a quick harried smile. I smiled back. “No problem. I’ve been there.” I’d just squatted to reach a nickel lying near the entrance when I ran into a pair of luxurious black oxfords draped in tailored black slacks. I waited a beat for the man to move out of my way and when he didn’t, I arched my neck back to allow my line of sight to rise. The custom three-piece suit hit more than a few of my hot buttons, but it was the tall, powerfully lean body inside it that made it sensational. Still, as hot as all that magnificent maleness was, it wasn’t until I reached the man’s face that I went down for the count. Wow. Just…wow. He sank into an elegant crouch directly in front of me. Hit with all that exquisite masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned. Then something shifted in the air between us. As he stared back, he altered…as if a shield slid away from his eyes, revealing a scorching force of will that sucked the air from my lungs. The intense magnetism he exuded grew in strength, becoming a near tangible impression of vibrant and unrelenting power. Reacting purely on instinct, I shifted backward. And sprawled flat on my ass. My elbows throbbed from the violent contact with the marble floor, but I scarcely registered the pain. I was too preoccupied with staring, riveted by the man in front of me. Inky black hair framed a breathtaking face. His bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy, while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely blue eyes made him savagely gorgeous. Those eyes narrowed slightly, his features otherwise schooled into impassivity. His dress shirt and suit were both black, but his tie perfectly matched those brilliant irises. His eyes were shrewd and assessing, and they bored into me. My heartbeat quickened; my lips parted to accommodate faster breaths. He smelled sinfully good. Not cologne. Body wash, maybe. Or shampoo. Whatever it was, it was mouthwatering, as was he. He held out a hand to me, exposing onyx cuff links and a very expensive-looking watch. With a shaky inhalation, I placed my hand in his. My pulse leaped when his grip tightened. His touch was electric, sending a shock up my arm that raised the hairs on my nape. He didn’t move for a moment, a frown line marring the space between arrogantly slashed brows. “Are you all right?” His voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that he might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough. My lips were dry, so I licked them before answering. “I’m fine.” He stood with economical grace, pulling me up with him. We maintained eye contact because I was unable to look away. He was younger than I’d assumed at first. Younger than thirty would be my guess, but his eyes were much worldlier. Hard and sharply intelligent. I felt drawn to him, as if a rope bound my waist and he was slowly, inexorably pulling it. Blinking out of my semi-daze, I released him. He wasn’t just beautiful; he was…enthralling. He was the kind of guy that made a woman want to rip his shirt open and watch the buttons scatter along with her inhibitions. I looked at him in his civilized, urbane, outrageously expensive suit and thought of raw, primal, sheet-clawing fucking. He bent down and retrieved the ID card I hadn’t realized I’d dropped, freeing me from that provocative gaze. My brain stuttered back into gear. I was irritated with myself for feeling so awkward while he was so completely self-possessed. And why? Because I was dazzled, damn it. He glanced up at me and the pose—him nearly kneeling before me—skewed my equilibrium again. He held my gaze as he rose. “Are you sure you’re all right? You should sit down for a minute.” My face heated. How lovely to appear awkward and clumsy in front of the most self-assured and graceful man I’d ever met. “I just lost my balance. I’m okay.” Looking away, I caught sight of the woman who’d dumped the contents of her purse. She thanked the guard who’d helped her; then turned to approach me, apologizing profusely. I faced her and held out the handful of coins I’d collected, but her gaze snagged on the god in the suit and she promptly forgot me altogether. After a beat, I just reached over and dumped the change into the woman’s bag. Then I risked a glance at the man again, finding him watching me even as the brunette gushed thank-yous. To him. Not to me, of course, the one who’d actually helped. I talked over her. “May I have my badge, please?” He offered it back to me. Although I made an effort to retrieve it without touching him, his fingers brushed mine, sending that charge of awareness into me all over again. “Thank you,” I muttered before skirting him and pushing out to the street through the revolving door. I paused on the sidewalk, gulping in a breath of New York air redolent with a million different things, some good and some toxic. There was a sleek black Bentley SUV in front of the building and I saw my reflection in the spotless limo tinted windows. I was flushed and my Y/E/C eyes were overly bright. I’d seen that look on my face before—in the bathroom mirror just before I went to bed with a man. It was my I’m-ready-to-fuck look and it had absolutely no business being on my face now. Christ. Get a grip. Five minutes with Mr. Dark and Dangerous, and I was filled with an edgy, restless energy. I could still feel the pull of him, the inexplicable urge to go back inside where he was. I could make the argument that I hadn’t finished what I’d come to the Seunghyun’s Company to do, but I knew I’d kick myself for it later. How many times was I going to make an ass of myself in one day? “Enough,” I scolded myself under my breath. “Moving on.” Horns blared as one cab darted in front of another with only inches to spare and then slammed on the brakes as daring pedestrians stepped into the intersection seconds before the light changed. Shouting ensued, a barrage of expletives and hand gestures that didn’t carry real anger behind them. In seconds all the parties would forget the exchange, which was just one beat in the natural tempo of the city. As I melded into the flow of foot traffic and set off toward the gym, a smile teased my mouth. Ah, New York, I thought, feeling settled again. You rock. I’d planned on warming up on a treadmill, then capping off the hour with a few of the machines, but when I saw that a beginners’ kickboxing class was about to start, I followed the mass of waiting students into that instead. By the time it was over, I felt more like myself. My muscles quivered with the perfect amount of fatigue and I knew I’d sleep hard when I crashed later. “You did really well.” I wiped the sweat off my face with a towel and looked at the young man who spoke to me. Lanky and sleekly muscular, he had keen brown eyes and flawless café au lait skin. His lashes were enviably thick and long, while his head was shaved bald. “Thank you.” My mouth twisted ruefully. “Pretty obvious it was my first time, huh?” He grinned and held out his hand. “Parker Smith.” “Y/N Y/L/N.” “You have a natural grace, Y/N. With a little training you could be a literal knockout. In a city like New York, knowing self-defense is imperative.” He gestured over to a corkboard hung on the wall. It was covered in thumbtacked business cards and fliers. Tearing off a flag from the bottom of a fluorescent sheet of paper, he held it out to me. “Ever heard of Krav Maga?” “In a Jennifer Lopez movie.” “I teach it, and I’d love to teach you. That’s my website and the number to the studio.” I admired his approach. It was direct, like his gaze, and his smile was genuine. I’d wondered if he was angling toward a pickup, but he was cool enough about it that I couldn’t be sure. Parker crossed his arms, which showed off cut biceps. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and long shorts. His Converse sneakers looked comfortably beat up and tribal tattoos peeked up from his collar. “My website has the hours. You should come by and watch, see if it’s for you.” “I’ll definitely think about it.” “Do that.” He extended his hand again, and his grip was solid and confident. “I hope to see you.” The apartment smelled fabulous when I got back home and Adele was crooning soulfully through the surround sound speakers about chasing pavements. I looked across the open floor plan into the kitchen and saw Hae swaying to the music while stirring something on the range. There was an open bottle of wine on the counter and two goblets, one of which was half-filled with red wine. “Hey,” I called out as I got closer. “Whatcha cooking? And do I have time for a shower first?” He poured wine into the other goblet and slid it across the breakfast bar to me, his movements practiced and elegant. No one would know from looking at him that he’d spent his childhood bouncing between his drug-addicted mother and foster homes, followed by adolescence in juvenile detention facilities and state-run rehabs. “Pasta with meat sauce. And hold the shower, dinner’s ready. Have fun?” “Once I got to the gym, yeah.” I pulled out one of the teakwood barstools and sat. I told him about the kickboxing class and Parker Smith. “Wanna go with me?” “Krav Maga?” Hae shook his head. “That’s hardcore. I’d get all bruised up and that would cost me jobs. But I’ll go with you to check it out, just in case this guy’s a wack.” I watched him dump the pasta into a waiting colander. “A wack, huh?” My dad had taught me to read guys pretty well, which was how I’d known the god in the suit was trouble. Regular people offered token smiles when they helped someone, just to make a momentary connection that smoothed the way. Then again, I hadn’t smiled at him either. “Baby girl,” Hae said, pulling bowls out of the cupboard, “you’re a sexy, stunning woman. I question any man who doesn’t have the balls to ask you outright for a date.” I wrinkled my nose at him. He set a bowl in front of me. It contained tiny tubes of salad noodles covered in a skimpy tomato sauce with lumps of ground beef and peas. “You’ve got something on your mind. What is it?” Hmm…I caught the handle of the spoon sticking out of the bowl and decided not to comment on the food. “I think I ran into the hottest man on the planet today. Maybe the hottest man in the history of the world.” “Oh? I thought that was me. Do tell me more.” Hae stayed on the other side of the counter, preferring to stand and eat. I watched him take a couple bites of his own concoction before I felt brave enough to try it myself. “Not much to tell, really. I ended up sprawled on my ass in the lobby of the Seunghyun’s Company and he gave me a hand up.” “Tall or short? Blond or dark? Built or lean? Eye color?” I washed down my second bite with some wine. “Tall. Dark. Lean and built. Brown eyes. Filthy rich, judging by his clothes and accessories. And he was insanely sexy. You know how it is—some hot guys don’t make your hormones go crazy, while some unattractive guys have massive sex appeal. This guy had it all.” My belly fluttered as it had when Dark and Dangerous touched me. In my mind, I remembered his breathtaking face with crystal clarity. It should be illegal for a man to be that mind-blowing. I was still recovering from the frying of my brain cells. Hae set his elbow on the counter and leaned in, his long bangs covering one vibrant green eye. “So what happened after he helped you up?” I shrugged. “Nothing.” “Nothing?” “I left.” “What? You didn’t flirt with him?” I took another bite. Really, the meal wasn’t bad. Or else I was just starving. “He wasn’t the kind of guy you flirt with, Hae.” “There is no such thing as a guy you can’t flirt with. Even the happily married ones enjoy a little harmless flirtation now and then.” “There was nothing harmless about this guy,” I said dryly. “Ah, one of those.” Hae nodded sagely. “Bad boys can be fun, if you don’t get too close.” Of course he would know; men and women of all ages fell at his feet. Still, he somehow managed to pick the wrong partner every time. He’d dated stalkers, and cheaters, and lovers who threatened to kill themselves over him, and lovers with significant others they didn’t tell him about…Name it, he’d been through it. “I can’t see this guy ever being fun,” I said. “He was way too intense. Still, I bet he’d be awesome in the sack with all that intensity.” “Now you’re talking. Forget the real guy. Just use his face in your fantasies and make him perfect there.” Preferring to get the guy out of my head altogether, I changed the subject. “You have any go-sees tomorrow?” “Of course.” Hae launched into the details of his schedule, mentioning a jeans advertisement, selftanner, underwear, and cologne. I shoved everything else out of my mind and focused on him and his growing success. The demand for Jung Hae was increasing by the day, and he was building a reputation with photographers and accounts for being both professional and prompt. I was thrilled for him and so proud. He’d come a long way and been through so much. It wasn’t until after dinner that I noticed the two large gift boxes propped against the side of the sectional sofa. “What are those?” “Those,” Hae said, joining me in the living room, “are the ultimate.” I knew immediately they were from Johns and my mom. Money was something my mother needed to be happy and I was glad Johns, husband #3, was not only able to fill that need for her but all her many others as well. I often wished that could be the end of it, but my mom had a difficult time accepting that I didn’t view money the same way she did. “What now?” He threw his arm around my shoulders, easy enough for him to do because he was taller by five inches. “Don’t be ungrateful. He loves your mom. He loves spoiling your mom, and your mom loves spoiling you. As much as you don’t like it, he doesn’t do it for you. He does it for her.” Sighing, I conceded his point. “What are they?” “Glam threads for the advocacy center’s fundraiser dinner on Saturday. A bombshell dress for you and a Brioni tux for me, because buying gifts for me is what he does for you. You’re more tolerant if you have me around to listen to you bitch.” “Damn straight. Thank God he knows that.” “Of course he knows. Johns wouldn’t be a bazillionaire if he didn’t know everything.” Hae caught my hand and tugged me over. “Come on. Take a look.”

~ I pushed through the revolving door of the Seunghyun’s Company into the lobby ten minutes before nine the next morning. Wanting to make the best impression on my first day, I’d gone with a simple sheath dress paired with black pumps that I slid on in replacement of my walking shoes on the elevator ride up. My blond hair was twisted up in an artful chignon that resembled a figure eight, courtesy of Hae. I was hair-inept, but he could create styles that were glamorous masterpieces. I wore the small pearl studs my dad had given me as a graduation gift and the Rolex from Johns and my mother. I had begun to think I’d put too much care into my appearance, but as I stepped into the lobby I remembered being sprawled across the floor in my workout clothes and I was grateful I didn’t look anything like that graceless girl. The two security guards didn’t seem to put two and two together when I flashed them my ID card on the way to the turnstiles. Twenty floors later, I was exiting into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman. Before me was a wall of bulletproof glass that framed the double-door entrance to the reception area. The receptionist at the crescentshaped desk saw the badge I held up to the glass. She hit the button that unlocked the doors as I put my ID away. “Hi, Megumi,” I greeted her when I stepped inside, admiring her cranberry-colored blouse. She was mixed race, a little bit Asian for sure, and very pretty. Her hair was dark and thick, and cut into a sleek bob that was shorter in the back and razor sharp in the front. Her sloe eyes were brown and warm, and her lips were full and naturally pink. “Eva, hi. Mark’s not in yet, but you know where you’re going, right?” “Absolutely.” With a wave, I took the hallway to the left of the reception desk all the way to the end, where I made another left turn and ended up in a formerly open space now partitioned into cubicles. One was mine and I went straight to it. I dropped my purse and the bag holding my walking flats into the bottom drawer of my utilitarian metal desk; then booted up my computer. I’d brought a couple of things to personalize my space and I pulled them out. One was a framed collage of three photos— me and HAE on Coronado beach, my mom and Johns on his yacht in the French Riviera, and my dad on duty in his City of Oceanside, California, police cruiser. The other item was a colorful arrangement of glass flowers that Cary had given me just that morning as a “first day” gift. I tucked it beside the small grouping of photos, and sat back to take in the effect. “Good morning, Y/N.” I pushed to my feet to face my boss. “Good morning, Mr. Kim.” “Call me Mark, please. Come on over to my office.” I followed him across the strip of hallway, once again thinking that my new boss was very easy to look at with his gleaming dark skin, trim goatee, and laughing brown eyes. Mark had a square jaw and a charmingly crooked smile. He was trim and fit, and he carried himself with a confident poise that inspired trust and respect. He gestured at one of the two seats in front of his glass and chrome desk, and waited until I sat to settle into his Aeron chair. Against the backdrop of sky and skyscrapers, Mark looked accomplished and powerful. He was, in fact, just a junior account manager and his office was a closet compared to the ones occupied by the directors and executives, but no one could fault the view. He leaned back and smiled. “Did you get settled into your new apartment?” I was surprised he remembered, but I appreciated it, too. I’d met him during my second interview and liked him right away. “For the most part,” I answered. “Still a few stray boxes here and there.” “You moved from California, right? Nice , but very different from New York. Do you miss the palm trees?” “I miss the dry air. The humidity here is taking some getting used to.” “Wait ’til summer hits.” He smiled. “So…it’s your first day and you’re my first assistant, so we’ll have to figure this out as we go. I’m not used to delegating, but I’m sure I’ll pick it up quick.” I was instantly at ease. “I’m eager to be delegated to.” “Having you around is a big step up for me, Y/N. I’d like you to be happy working here. Do you drink coffee?” “Coffee is one of my major food groups.” “Ah, an assistant after my own heart.” His smile widened. “I’m not going to ask you to fetch coffee for me, but I wouldn’t mind if you helped me figure out how to use the new one-cup coffee brewers they just put in the break rooms.” I grinned. “No problem.” “How sad is it that I don’t have anything else for you?” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Why don’t I show you the accounts I’m working on and we’ll go from there?” The rest of the day passed in a blur. Mark touched bases with two clients and had a long meeting with the creative team working on concept ideas for a trade school. It was a fascinating process seeing firsthand how the various departments picked up the baton from each other to carry a campaign from proposition to fruition. I might’ve stayed late just to get a better feel of the layout of the offices, but my phone rang at ten minutes to five. “Mark Kim’s office. Y/N Y/L/N speaking.” “Get your ass home so we can go out for the drink you rain-checked on yesterday.” Hae’s mock sternness made me smile. “All right, all right. I’m coming.” Shutting down my computer, I cleared out. When I reached the bank of elevators, I pulled out my cell to text a quick “on my way” note to Hae. A ding alerted me to which car was stopping on my floor and I moved over to stand in front of it, briefly returning my attention to hitting the send button. When the doors opened, I took a step forward. I glanced up to watch where I was going and blue eyes met mine. My breath caught. The beautiful asian sex god was the lone occupant.

a/n Men i know there wasnt a lot of lee seunghyun aka seungri in this chapter but in next one he is going to be there so i will try to upload once daily 50 shades and Bared to him so yeah i hope you enjoyed