#I’m sure he walks bow legged because the money’s damn fucking heavy

[youmeansus]

The only thing funnier than his walk is the music to it

[from-cj-with-love]

Rating Dream SMP character based off of how ripped they are.

Dream - rotting in prison means no more muscles. 4/10

GeorgeNotFound - get up bitch. 0/10

Callahan - 1000/10 I will not be taking criticism

SapNap - hooo buddy. oh honey. 13/10

AweSamDude - could kill god with a a glance. and a trident throw. 10/10

DropsByPonk - my fucking monarch 8/10

BadBoyHalo - 20/10 MAJOR pectorals.

TommyInnit - god this kid’s been through it. he’s fought in wars, sure, but who has time to work out when you’re always put through the ringer? –2/10

Tubbo - built snowchester and a huge guardian farm. 9/10

ItsFundy - more agile and limber. like a fox. bc he is one. also buff furries terrify me. 4/10

Punz - heavy breathing 11/10

Purpled - Merc work, bedwars, building, the building paranoia that everyone he trusts is going to betray him and money being his biggest motivator. 6.5/10

WilburSoot - I was gonna just say “weak old music man” but then I remembered he worked in mines, shot bows, and was in an army. 7/10

JSchlatt - I was gonna just say “weak old alcoholic man” but then I remembered he guzzled protein powder and lifted weights. that’s concerning. 7/10

Skeppy - he’s made of diamonds which is a cheat code. 50/10 but you’re disqualified

Eret - walking around in fancy clothes and dresses constantly with all the beauty and showmanship in the world must be exhausting. 8/10

JackManifoldTV - Potatoes, spite, death, radiation, and mental illness do not a buff man make 1.5/10

Nihachu - She must be in pain from having to carry The Syndicate on her back 8/10

Quackity - uncomfortably buff. 7/10

Karl Jacobs - energy drinks, hiring someone to build his kingdom, and disappearing doesn’t exactly sound like a workout plan sir 3/10

HBomb - vaults. his village. grinding. the prestige. 12/10

TechnoBlade - he’s been carrying the weight of his sins since the potato wars. also mining and farming for hours. 15/10

AntFrost - he is Stick. Slinky. 3/10

Philza - I’M A SURVIVORRR, I’M NOT GON’ GIVE UUUP 9/10

ConnorEatsPants - sonic man has legs that aren’t that swole despite running so much. 4/10

CaptainPuffy - foolish, your dad is gnc as fuck. 10/10

Vikkstar123 - in tommy’s head he’s ∞/10 which is fair but in reality he is 6/10 and that’s fine

LazarBeam - Mr Beam there is never anything to say about you so I’m going to slap on 5/10 and call it a day

Ranboo - Genderman? More like Jellyman 1/10

FoolishGamers - YOLKED. NOT JUST CUZ HE’S A GOD. BECAUSE HE CARRIES ALL HIS BUILDING MATERIALS BY H A N D 99999/10 I’M NOT A SIMP I PROMISE

HannahXXRose - bedwars, gardening, betrayal, it’s all gotta keep you swole. 8/10

Slimecicle - too-human charlie would be perfectly average. 5/10 goop boy? changing shape. ?/10

MichaelMcChill - man’s went full fucking super spy one time. and he’s been in the SMP business for years now. pretty damn swole. solid Mr McChill. 8.5/10

[laketaj24]

Needy: William, Lovecraft Fanfiction

Author’s Note: Hello again! I hope you all have been well. Conjured this up last night and had to post it! It’s smuttier than the last, sorry, but not for real lmao. Happy reading! Let me know what you think! Taglist/ Requests are open! To be added or removed hit my asks! Thank you! (SN: He doesn’t have a last name on the show, as far as I can remember, so I made one up. Thanks)

Pairings: William x Reader, Lovecraft Fanfiction

Warnings: Smut. Language.

William Bradford owned the law firm at the edge of downtown, perched on a corner, and lit by the streetlight, where he called the area a prime spot. There was no denying that there was a surplus of business flowing from the place; he was well known for having the legal talents to handle almost any case; it was irksome, sometimes. You stood at the frosted door, wondering if you should turn around; it had been a few days since you last saw William, and the last conversation had not ended on good terms. He had tried to call four times that you knew of, and you only knew because he left a message with your roommate. It was a risk to even leave a message with her; she already had doubts that your relationship with him was platonic.

The walk from uptown had given you time to think of why you were here in the first place; you were no longer content with the status of your relationship. No, there was not too much that could change, but you had a proposal that William would find interesting.

It took a few minutes, but you decided to enter the office; you did miss him after all, and walking the distance you did deserve at least a small reward, even if that was just seeing his face. The phone’s trill ring occurred every five seconds, and the curvy secretary did not seem to have enough hands or ears to get to them all.

“Bradford Law Firm?” She said with a deep sigh. “No, apologize; he is busy for the afternoon.” A moment of silence passes, and then she shakes her head as if the person on the other line could see her. “Yes, William has 3pm tomorrow available.”

You say nothing stepping away from her desk while slipping the gloves from your hands. The chill of the fall had started to take over outside. You loved the change in weather; you’d discovered it to be sexier for William to have more to take off when he had the chance. The walls of the office were basically bare; only the photo of his beloved car and his law degree had the privilege to be on them. He loved things simples, in decor but not so much in relationships. The relationship between the two of you was everything but simple.

“Ms. YN.” She looked up from her desk with a warm smile, but her eyes bared the truth. The secretary was not fond of the two of you; you didn’t care, though.

“Hi, Caroline.” You waved. “Mr. Bradford and I are having lunch.”

“I do not see you here on the schedule.”

 The door opened in front of you, and he appeared. The navy tailored suit fit him, well, accentuating the slender cut of his waist all while flaunting that he indeed was from old money. “Ms. Y/L/N, how can I be of service?” William’s hands were shoved into his pocket as he leaned against the wooden doorjamb. “Legal troubles?”

“Now you know damn well,” Your throat was dry all of a sudden; you cleared it subtly and exhaled. “Our lunch date,” You laughed, hoping that he would not embarrass you in front of this woman you barely even like.

“I was just informing Y/N she was not on the schedule.”

“Of course, she is not on it; she does not need to make an appointment for lunch or for anything for that matter.” William moves from the door with the slight swagger in his walk that you’d grown accustomed to walking from afar, and one thing was sure it looked better up close. His eyes carefully examine you from head to toe, pausing at the cream pencil skirt that halted just above your knee. He swiped his hand over his mouth and then smiled at you. “How are you?”

“Tired, I walked from across town for our lunch date, and you aren’t going to offer me a seat.” The harmless flirting in person was the closest thing to foreplay you’d manage to display. You return the lustful look, dragging your eyes over his body, stopping to meet his eyes.

“Forgive my manners or lack of any.” He sucked his teeth, turning to Caroline. “It appears you have earned yourself a long lunch. You can return at two.”

“That’s two hours.” She scoffed in protest.

“I know.” His lips were pursed in a fine line, displaying his dismay in her questions. “I stated it would be a long lunch.” William took her jacket and purse from the hook behind her and handed it to her.

“Will you need me to bring you anything to eat?”

“I plan to eat in.” He stated with a smirk. The words instantly making you clench your legs together. “Have a good lunch Caroline.”

The dismal did not last long, for as soon as she took her belongings, he was in front of you. His arms cornering you against the wall and nose gently rubbing down the line of your face. “I called you yesterday.”

“I was studying.”

“And that’s a good reason to not answer?”

“You lived, didn’t you?”

“Barely.” He answered.

The door closes, and your fingers wrap around his tie, tugging him closer to you. “I missed you.” you smile, hoping it would ease the sting of ignoring him for a day. William needed to be told no sometimes, you spoiled him. Always answer his beck and call; no was a good thing.

Then perhaps you should act as if you did.” William stepped back, taking your hands from his tie and cocking his brow. “Did you pass those tests?”

“Yes.” You beam at him. “Glad you care.”

“I always care.”

“You weren’t allowing me time to study, keeping me up all hours of the night.” The first step into his office is calming. This place was where you first met; he’d taken up being your lawyer for a small civil suit. There hadn’t been a need to come here multiple times a day other than for him to fuck you. You were addicted to the feel of him, the charming cadence of his words, and the magic of those fingers no matter the circumstances.

“Why walk across town?” William took a seat at his desk, adjusting his tie and then peering up at you. “I could have easily come to you.”

“I felt bad about not seeing you this past week.” The softness of your voice is unexpected, but the small truths come out when you are vulnerable; you knew this.

“Then you should have come over when I asked.” He adjusted the papers on the table and clears his throat. It was not in his character to not embrace any vulnerability in you, even when he was mad at you. He was that gentleman.  “Is this an apology, Y/N?” William waited for your response.

“I don’t think I owe you an apology, William. I wanted to talk to you about some things that have been heavy on me, though, if you have the time.” You take one step towards the desk, and he holds his hand, halting you. “What?” The tension lay thick in the air.

“I just know that if you walk over here, we won’t get to talk, and you claim that is why you’re here anyhow.”

“I want,” you paused. What did you want?

“What?” He folded his arms over his chest.

“You.” The weighty word floated from your lips precariously.

William motioned you over to him, and when you were in reach, he had his hands on you. Wet kisses trailed up your neck to the rose petal-soft lips that graced your face. If it was possible to be worshipped through touch, William had perfected it. His fingers lagged soft lines up your legs, pushing the pencil skirt to allow easier access. The talented lips sung rushed kisses that turned into slow lulls, mixed with nips from his teeth and tastes from his tongue. He was everywhere, and you loved it; you wanted more. He breathed heavily once he pulled you over him; your legs dangled on each side of him. William loved the feeling of you on top of him. The weight of you was overwhelming; the sound of your moans when his hands traveled up your exposed thighs to the line of your underwear than to your soaked middle. Two hours seemed like a long time, but in truth, it was nothing two the two of you. You pushed your skirt up higher, allowing you to feel his cock through his pants.

“I’m going to ruin this dress.”

“I have to walk back uptown.”

“No, you don’t.” William pushed the curls from your face and looked up at you. “I will take you back to your place.”

“You sure about that white boy?” Your teeth graze over his earlobe, only feeling more intoxicated by him while continuing the playful banter. “Not your side of town?”

“Wherever you are, is my side of town.” He pushes his two fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” You opened your mouth, taking them in your mouth, sucking for a moment, and they were gone, back in between your legs and pushing into you expertly, causing you to bow from him. You exhaled, locking eyes with him as he started his pursuit. William pumped his fingers into you, massaging your clit with his thumb each time they entered you. Your pussy enveloped them, welcoming them in like old friends and that they were. There was no room for a coherent thought, your head fell back, and eyes rolled as he started to fuck you with his fingers. He had barely even touched your clit, and somehow you were drenched for him. “You’re so needy.” He laughed.

There was no patience in your next movements; you reached between the two of you and unbuttoned his pants. His dick pressed against his boxers. Usually, there was a rhythm to these things. He liked to get undressed at his own pace and fuck you slow. This was not today. William stood, throwing you onto the scattered papers on his desk and spread your legs wide for him to admire you.

“You’re not allowed to run today.” He gave a small smile before he unsheathed himself, pumping up and down himself a few times. William hovered over you; his dick flinched warm over the entrance of your pussy. “Understand?”

“Yes.” You shook your head, you never really intended to run, but there was only many so many times you could cum.

William places his thumb on your clit and then slams into you, hilt deep, your body quakes taking all of him and reveling in pleasure. “Sweet Y/N.” He groans, his teeth clenched as he starts to fuck you. His hips snap onto your body, knocking your body up the desk. The tips of his fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh, pulling you to meet him at each thrust, and your hips naturally wind. Grinding on him, allowing that extra tease of pleasure to your swollen nub. The deeper he sunk into you, the more intense the pleasure grew. He pulls out of you, swiping his heavy cock down your slit and then tapping playfully only to flip you over. Your ass is sat up just for him; you didn’t want him to stop.

Impatiently you rub yourself against him, feeling him jump against your skin, and then chuckle. “Calm down, sweetheart.” The charming lull of his voice is followed by his hand, pressing the arch of your back and him slamming into you. Sweet delicious sting flooded through your entire body, setting each nerve afire with a tingling sensation you could not stop. Your body shook against, and he continued to fuck you, guiding your hips to meet his thrust. Your feet hovered over the ground, and you were more than grateful for the desk holding your body because had it not been there, you might have floated away. He made you feel weightless. Your toes curled as the high pitch mewls exclaimed your ecstasy. How the fuck had you gone a week, better yet a day without him?

The flowers on the corner of the desk crashed to the floor, the glass shattering and water spattering. William didn’t care; you gripped the table as he growled, and he snapped his hips on your ass. William was chasing his high, and it was inside of you. He fucked you deeper, leaning his body over yours fully and then spreading your legs wider for better access. You imagined what you looked like spread out on the desk beneath him, unable to stop yourself from coming over and over, and one thing was sure, you were needy. How in the fuck could you not be? He slammed into you once more, and this time he grew harder, releasing himself once he was deep enough in you, and then he continued to fuck into you. He wanted to savor the moment just as much as you.

There was a mess made of the office, his clothes, and yours; there was no redemption from it. William didn’t seem to mind; he fixed himself to the best of his capabilities and then turned his attentions to you, adjusting the mess of curls atop your head and then straightening your skirt. “What are your plans for the evening?”

“Cleaning, maybe reading.”

“No studying?” William wiped the remnants of the lipstick from the side of your face and cupped your face making sure your eyes were on him.

“I hadn’t planned it.”

“Good, then come home with me.” When you said nothing, he rolled his eyes, “You are not the only one that is needy.”

“I can do that.” The smile on your face was not able to be erased at the moment.

William draped you in his coat and placed the fedora atop his head. He opened the door, not expecting to Caroline there; the permanent scowl on her face did not phase him or you for that matter. “Caroline, glad to have you back. Cancel my meetings and clean the office.” Her mouth dropped, staring at you. “After that, you are free for the afternoon. Good day to you.”

Taglist: @richonne4life​​ @readsalot73​​ @taytayize123​​ @iammrsrogers​​ @therandomthoughtsofmsparker​​ @blackcoffeeisthetea​​ @bookcrazybby​​ @ritual-unions-gotme​​ @isthat-tyra98​  @whenimaunicorn​ @blackmissfrizzle​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​ @youwishiwasyobabymama​ @ceridwenofwales​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @artemiseamoon​ @iammrsrogers​  @peonylie @gearhead66​ 

[abarbaricyalp]

prompt idea - sam/steve/bucky

bucky and steve start calling sam by 40s pet names as a joke but sam discovers he actually likes it but doesn’t know how to tell them.

Hello! Sorry this took so long (vampire anon, that's also taking so long but it is also being so long. I haven't forgotten about it. I just love vampires)

Read on AO3 under the same title by ElisabethMonroe

An Incomplete Dream

As with all things that vexed him, Sam Wilson’s newest problem was started by Bucky Barnes.

“Stevie, don’t he look like the most perfect picture of angelface?” Bucky asked, turning away from Sam, though his metal fingers didn’t loosen around Sam’s wrists, which he was holding over Sam’s head.

Steve looked over his shoulder with a wide grin, even without having to look at Sam. “He sure does, Buck,” he agreed and finished pulling his shirt off over his head.

“Angelface?” Sam asked, just to antagonize Bucky.

Bucky shifted over Sam, ground his thigh a little closer to Sam’s groin. Never close enough to give any real friction, just the teasing promise of more to come. It was about the only time Bucky had any self control, when Steve was around to tell them not to have too much fun without him. And Steve, unfortunately, managed to have the patience of a fucking saint when it meant it got Sam and Bucky harder than sin.

“Yeah, doll,” Bucky purred, dropped his face to Sam’s neck to trail his mouth along his skin. Sam would pretend like that was what had his legs falling open. The kissing and not the words. “Means you look like somethin’ Heaven sent.”

“That’s heavy,” Steve said, reappearing from the bathroom in briefs that Sam was pretty sure he’d bought him. Or maybe they were just Sam’s. “But not wrong,” he added as he climbed into the bed and straddled Sam’s hips. Bucky shifted too, staying out of Steve’s way but continuing to hold Sam’s wrists down. Sam pouted up at him. Bucky ignored him and leaned over to kiss Steve instead.

“How ‘bout you give your angel something to work with?” Sam suggested eventually, pouting out his lower lip again. Steve leaned down to kiss it away.

“Good morning, dollface,” Bucky greeted the next morning. Steve looked up from his newspaper with a fond grin. Sam tilted his head to offer his cheek for their mandatory morning kisses. Bucky skipped his cheek and went for his neck, an arm draping over Sam’s shoulder to run his hand down Sam’s bare chest.

“You haven’t said dollface in a while,” Steve said and brought his coffee up to his lips.

“You ain’t got one no more,” Bucky said. Sam could feel him look up from his nook in Sam’s neck and Sam could only imagine the look he was throwing Steve.

“What happened to angelface?” Sam asked.

“Liked that one, huh?” Bucky said. He kissed Sam’s cheek and went off in search of breakfast.

“They’re all corny,” Sam said. It wasn’t really a lie. They were corny. He was allowed to like corny things.

Steve hooked his foot on the back of Sam’s ankle and it took all Sam had not to visibly react. It was insane that they could still have this effect on him. “Don’t be mean, dollface,” he drolled with the same easy grin he’d shot Bucky.

Sam sprawled over the breakfast bar, cheeks burning. He heard Bucky laugh.

“Steve!” Sam yelped and hurried to the stove to get a pot off the burner before all the water boiled over. “I gave you one job.”

Steve looked sheepish and he shrugged helplessly as he gestured to a bowl he was mixing some kind of cake batter in. “It was either the noodles or the cake. I know which one Bucky would prefer to get done.”

Sam rolled his eyes and bumped his hip into Steve's as he carried the pot to the sink to drain it. “He may say he wants the cake more, but we both know he puts carbs away like he’ll never eat again.”

For a second, the realization that it may very well be a survival instinct for him settled over the both of them. Then Steve shook his head and crammed himself into the corner, trying and failing very hard to be small.

“Hey, sugar, can you grab me the sugar?” he laughed.

Sam rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “Corny, Rogers. So damn corny.” But he got the sugar and passed it over. He was not surprised when Steve caught him around the waist, spinning him in a lazy dance even though the oven and stove were both still on and he hadn’t so much as measured out his sugar.

“He's special ration,” Steve sang, twirling them around a kitchen not designed for it. “Funny, he never asks for my money. All that I give him is honey. And that he can spend any time.”

Sam looked up when the door opened, but Steve didn’t even stumble, so Sam got Bucky’s bemused expression all to himself.

“I'd make a million trips to his lips, if I were a bee. Because he's sweeter than chocolate candy to me. He's confectionery, that sugar baby of mine.”

“It’s my birthday but you’re serenading him?” Bucky asked, cutting in between them to wrap his arms around Sam’s waist, picking up on the dance like he’d started it.

“You don’t call me dollface anymore,” Steve said with a shrug. He turned back to his cake and Sam dropped his face to Bucky’s shoulder. They swayed slightly, taking small steps now and again, pasta forgotten for now.

“Yeah, Sam’s my new dollface and he gets to give me my gift first.”

“Do I, now? And you know what that gift is, I’m assuming.”

“Sure I do,” Bucky said. He reached for a red bow that had been left on the breakfast bar and smacked it onto Sam’s shoulder. Sam was just about to make a joke when Bucky peeled it off and put it on the waistband of Sam’s pants instead. “Sounds like you’ve got a little sweetness to spare, sugar,” he purred and pulled him back towards the couch.

Steve could handle pasta and cake at the same time, Sam decided. And if he couldn’t...at least they’d have dessert.

Sam turned over in bed and opened his eyes to find Bucky already looking at him, sleepy and only half awake. One of the best ways for him to be, Sam thought.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, reaching over to brush a curl back into the mop on Bucky’s head.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured back. Sam felt his stomach curl in on itself in elation. It was a little painful, but Sam was realizing most of his reactions to Bucky and Steve were adoration and pain in equal measure sometimes.

“Think Steve’s gonna be out of it all morning?” Sam asked.

Bucky’s mouth curled to the side. “He did take a robot to the side of the head,” he pointed out. “I ain’t seen him bruise like that since he was little.”

Sam grimaced in sympathy for Steve. He had been pretty banged up the night before. He really should’ve been with med, but of course he wasn’t. Of course he was in bed instead, having to sleep with his back to Sam and Bucky because he couldn’t sleep on his right side. Sam shifted over, supporting himself on his elbow, to look over his shoulder at Steve’s sleeping figure.

“The swelling’s already half down,” he said, turning back over in time for Bucky to kiss his forearm. “He better sleep until it’s almost all healed.”

“Hopefully,” Bucky agreed, kissing up his arm to his wrist. “You’re a sweetheart for worrying,” he said pointedly.

“I didn’t argue last time you said it,” Sam laughed softly. He freed his hand from where he’d tucked it under his pillow, and Bucky kissed his palm and then along his fingers.

“I just like saying it. Sweetheart. It was my favorite back in the day.”

“Back when you had game?” Sam asked.

Bucky growled playfully, leaning over to nip at Sam’s lips, sleep still making their movements and words slow and languid. “I’ve got plenty of game. I’ve got the two most beautiful men in the world in my bed every night. But, nah. I never used it on dames. Not like this. This is all yours and Steve’s.”

“Why not?” Sam asked, pushing his fingers through the hair curling around Bucky’s ear.

“‘Cause it’s what Sarah used to call me and Steve. I don’t wanna use it on anyone I don’t fully love,” Bucky said, like it was simple, obvious, not world shattering.

Sam fell into Bucky, kissing him between whispers of sweetheart.

The antiseptic of hospitals always set Sam on edge. When he was thirteen and his grandmother had gotten sick, he’d lost count of the nights he’d spent in hospital rooms and waiting areas. He still clearly remembered a doctor walking into one waiting room to talk to a family near Sam’s. He remembered the blood on the doctor’s pant leg and the sudden rush of mortality that hit him all at once.

Being in pararescue meant he spent a good chunk of his service time in and out of hospitals too. Not necessarily for himself or Riley, though that was a cause too, but just to do his job. Put people in beds, continue field triage, check in on patients who didn’t have anyone else. Even in the desert, that smell filled the air.

Tonight, it creeped beneath his skin too, even though he was half running through the halls, even though there were bandages around his head, even though he was pretty sure he had serious sinus damage under his broken nose. He knew what the hospital smelled like.

The only thing that stopped him was a thick arm around his chest, as gentle as could be given the circumstances, though it still hurt like a bitch. It didn’t stop him grasping for the door handle. “Bucky,” he gasped out, ribs and lung both protesting, fingernails scratching futilely at the arm around him.

“Hang on, Sam. Just wait a second,��� Steve said, reaching for his waist instead of his chest with a muttered apology. Sam couldn’t remember reacting, giving himself away. Maybe Steve had just gotten his med eval.

“I need to see him. They wouldn’t say anything. I had him, I was holding him,” he insisted. “I didn’t drop him.”

“Sam,” Steve breathed and finally managed to turn Sam’s wild eyes from the door to his own face. “Do you have a concussion?” Probably, but Sam didn’t know for sure to say. “You were shot down. You didn’t let go of him.”

Sam blinked up at Steve and it felt like it took ten years. “No. I saw… I saw him fall…”

Steve shook his head, brought his hands up to either side of Sam’s face. When his eyes flickered over Sam’s shoulder, Sam finally clocked all of the doctors in the hall, people saying his name, someone reaching for his arm before Steve shooed them away gently.

“You both fell, Sam. You need to be in a hospital bed too. I can’t believe you’re walking, Jesus.”

“Just me,” Sam said weakly. “I hear the resemblance is uncanny.” It was Bucky’s joke and the fact that he wasn’t here to make it had terror clutching at Sam’s heart again. “Please let me see him. I can’t stand this image in my head.”

Steve’s hands were gentle on his face, but relentless. Sam couldn’t turn back to the door.

“What’s wrong with him? Why aren’t you letting me in? Why aren’t you by his side?” he whimpered, hands coming up to clutch at Steve’s wrists.

“He’s not awake,” Steve said.

“They knocked him out? How?”

Steve’s features seemed to all screw in pain. “No. He was in and out of consciousness himself. He hasn’t woken up since the last time.”

“Oh my God, is he dead?” Sam cried, then swayed on his feet with the sudden cold blood rush.

“No, no, Sam, no. He’s not dead,” Steve assured and pulled Sam into his chest to hug him as tightly as gentleness and care would allow. “He’s just unconscious.”

“Let me in. Let me see him,” Sam said again. “Even if he isn’t awake. I just need--” His face fell to Steve’s shoulder as exhaustion caught up to him.

“Can we get a bed…?” Steve asked quietly like his mouth wasn’t right next to Sam’s head. But maybe he had the right idea because there was an ensuing conversation that Sam missed entirely.

The next time he clocked in, Steve was laying him down in a hospital bed. There was a cloth divider, but Sam knew the sound of Bucky breathing. He was so close. Steve tucked Sam’s arm back under the blanket when Sam reached over.

“Hey, easy, angel. Just try to sleep, okay? They’ll get your IVs reset.”

“I had IVs?” Sam asked and hated how his voice slurred.

“Oh, yeah. You took them all out. Very well, by the way. You’re hardly bleeding.”

Sam had put enough of them into other people, he thought he should know how to get them back out. Even concussed.

“You’re just gonna have to settle for me for now,” Steve said when Sam looked over at Bucky’s side again. He settled in a chair that was too small for him and held onto the hand Sam had freed again, keeping it firmly on the bed.

“I don’t settle for you,” Sam muttered. “Just wanna see him.”

“I know, angel. Just go to sleep. You’ll see him in a few hours.”

A few hours was sixteen, as it turned out. “What the hell is this?” Sam heard as he fought against the grit behind his eyelids. “Even national icons--incredibly dangerous assassins even--can’t get their own room?”

Sam sat up, swayed, and had to put his hands on the bed to keep himself upright. At the end of the partition, Sam saw Steve see him, saw a grin pull at his tired face. “Nah, Buck. You just had a gentleman caller last night. I had to keep him in the living room for a while,” he joked. Sam didn’t get it. Well, maybe he did. But he didn’t want to fight through the pulsing stuffing in his head to figure it out.

Steve stepped over to him, helped him stand, offered a wheelchair. “I don’t need a damn wheelchair. I hit my head, not my legs,” Sam snapped, though it came out soft and whiny.

“You hit everything,” Steve said.

But it didn’t matter, because Sam could see the figure in the next bed over shoot upright too. “A gentleman caller?” Bucky said. “Was he handsome?”

“Well, I think so,” Steve said as he helped get Sam’s arm around his shoulders. “I’d take him home with me. You’re lucky I was so patient as to give you a chance to save your date.”

Bucky laughed and Sam just about collapsed at the sound. “Trust me, I could win any gentleman caller back from you.”

“Sure you could, Buck,” Steve said. Finally they started moving around the curtain partition and finally Sam got to see Bucky. They had matching head bandages and there were plenty more creeping out of the paper shirt he was in.

It was a good thing Steve was holding him up because Sam’s knees went out from under him. Steve gently deposited him on the bed and Bucky and he fell together, bandages pressed to bandages as foreheads found resting places together.

“Sammy,” Bucky breathed and brought taped fingers up to Sam’s cheek, his jaw, his lips, his chin. The metal arm was disconnected and Sam wondered if it had been damaged too. “I was so fucking scared. I saw you fall--”

“No,” Sam insisted again. “That’s what they said last night too. But I saw you--” he started.

“No, you fell first,” Bucky said. “You put yourself under me.”

Steve’s fingers rubbed at the back of Sam’s neck. “Told you. You didn’t drop him.”

“Nah,” Bucky agreed. The eye that wasn’t swollen shut was gleaming with fondness and adoration. “A perfect gentleman, you were. My gentleman caller.”

Sam let out a shaky breath and held his hand over Bucky’s chest, just to feel his heartbeat.

“Hey, doll, will you give me the controller?” Steve asked. Sam barely looked up from his phone, only adjusted his feet on the coffee table to give Bucky the room he’d need to hand over the remote.

Steve’s toes dug into Sam’s thigh and Sam lifted his leg enough to get Steve’s toes under him. But then he kept squirming until Sam finally looked up with an unheated glare. “Do you need something?” he asked.

“Yeah, the controller,” Steve said again. “Jeez, you mad at me for something, angel?” he asked.

“No? Why would I be?”

“I’ve asked you twice now for the controller and you haven’t moved.”

“You didn’t ask me. I figured Bucky was getting it.”

Steve’s face crumbled in confusion before a wry grin cut over it. “Where do you think Bucky is?”

Sam looked over at the weird egg shaped chair Bucky liked to curl up in. It was empty. So was the kitchen and the loveseat that was too short for any of them to actually lay on but Bucky liked to do it anyway.

“He left, like, an hour ago,” Steve said. “I asked you.”

“But...you said doll. You only ever call Bucky doll.”

“Do I?” Steve asked.

“Up until this moment, yeah,” Sam said, feeling a little embarrassed and heated.

Steve freed his feet so he could get his knees under him and lean over to Sam. “Well,” he said, kissing Sam’s jaw, “consider this me granting you the pet name too,” he murmured. “I like to use it when I’m undeniably happy. And you make me undeniably happy.”

“You’re full of shit,” Sam laughed, pushing Steve’s face away. “You call him doll in every argument you’ve ever had in front of me.”

Steve shrugged. “It wears him down faster than logic.”

Sam got the appeal. “Do it again.”

Steve grinned. “Make me, doll,” he breathed.

Sam leaned over to kiss him.

“Can we talk about something?” Sam asked finally. The words just fell out of his mouth. It was certainly not the ideal moment he was thinking about waiting for. Steve was reorganizing their colognes on the large chest-of-drawers, even though Bucky was just going to mess it all up again in the morning, and Bucky was doing situps on the floor in sweatpants that he kept taking out of the trash when Sam tried to throw them away.

“Sure, darlin’,” Bucky said, sounding like a sin all breathless and Brooklyn. He sat up and braced his elbow on the side of the bed. “What’s up?”

“Actually,” Sam started and rubbed at his elbow, “that’s what I wanted to talk about.” When Steve and Bucky pulled the same confused expression, Sam moved to the bed and sat down on it. His heart just about burst when both of them moved to sit by him. Steve took a hand in his and Bucky rubbed at his thigh.

“It’s stupid alright. You don’t have to worry like this,” he said and felt a little bit of the tension melt off of his partners. “It’s just...you know, when Bucky first started the whole pet name thing, it was a joke, right? You were just teasing me,” he said.

“Was I?” Bucky asked. Steve pinched his side behind Sam’s back.

“And that was fine,” Sam assured. “I liked it. I like seeing you two smile ‘cause of it. Like that you found a way to bring stuff from back then to now with you.”

“Does it...make you uncomfortable?” Steve asked. And Sam could almost see him try to figure out if there was something offensive in a name like angel.

“No, that’s not… I just… Recently it’s become...heavier, I guess? It feels like it means more.”

“Again, are we sure I was taking the piss out of you before?” Bucky repeated. Steve pinched him again.

“I just wanna know what it means, is all. Because...I really like it. I like it every time you say it. Every single one of them.”

“Angel,” Steve and Bucky said at the same time. Sam shuddered enough to jar his shoulder against Steve’s.

“Shit, you do like it,” Bucky said.

“Are you asking… Are you worried about more than just the pet names?” Steve asked. “Like...are you asking how serious we all are?”

Sam’s fingers tightened around Steve’s hand. He hoped he wasn’t hurting him because he wasn’t sure he could make his fingers unclasp at that point. “It’s this thing between the two of you. These names and stuff. I ain’t heard no one call someone doll since my friend’s great-grandparents renewed their vows when I was a kid. And don’t even get me started on darling. Not the way you two say it. You mean it.

“And I didn’t know how I fit into that. It felt like you were testing out how I fit with the two of you,” he finally admitted. He wanted the words to lift the constriction out of his chest. Instead, it just lifted it to his throat so he could barely keep on talking. “I thought maybe I liked it a lot more than the two of you did,” he said, not talking about the names anymore, not really. “And I was scared you’d give up. But then it got serious, right? And I had to try’n figure out what was going on. So...what is going on?”

“Oh, Sammy,” Bucky breathed and wrapped an arm around Sam’s middle to hug him. “It’s been dead-serious since the moment it started,” he said. “It’s not goin’ nowhere. Not the names and damn sure not me.”

“Of course it’s serious,” Steve agreed, pressing his forehead to Sam’s temple. “We haven’t ever tried to fit you into anything. You already do fit everywhere. It was something we were missing before you. Not a space we rearranged for you.”

“Fuck,” Sam breathed, tried to laugh it out but the tears were evident in it.

“And if you were gonna panic about pet names this much,” Bucky added, because he always knew how to make Sam laugh and break the tension. “You shoulda worked on not having such a perfect angelface.”

Sam did laugh.

“Lucky you got angelface,” Steve said on his other side, putting his arms around Sam’s waist too. “Apparently you can lose the dollface designation.”

Sam laughed again and clutched at the arms around him. “Alright, my loves,” he said and felt something tremor through both of the other men. This was a two way street. “You can call me anything you want as long as you kiss me right after.”

“Sure, angel,” Bucky said.

“Anything you want, doll,” Steve agreed.

He got a kiss on either cheek. And then many, many more afterwards.

[heartofsnark]

Can You Feel The Sun? (Chapter Five): Just To Want It All

Notes: As stated in last chapter notes, i have a decent chunk of chapters done so these are coming out pretty rapid fire. Otherwise, I don’t have much to say other than massive thanks to my friend who reads these over for me and has been cool with me dropping 80+ pages of fic on them in a week. because yeah...I finished another chapter of this. 

Word Count:  7885

Chapter Warnings: mentions of alcohol and cursing, if that counts as a warning in cyberpunk 2077.  

If you haven’t yet, you can read the previous chapter here!~

Lizzie’s Bar stands out brilliantly in the city; out of all the gangs, she thinks she likes The Moxes aesthetic the best. Vivid pink and bright teal. Their colors splashed across the overpass, along with a neon pink skull sign with hair and a bow. At the side of the building is a towering neon skull girl sign, full bodied with an animated kicking leg and axe held above her head, the same hot pink color.

She parks and gets out of her car, doing a quick scan of the area, searching for more Militech drones. None that she sees, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. The credchip burns in her pocket, remembering some of the stuff T-Bug has taught her. How to crack an encrypted shard and see what’s on it, how to transfer its contents. V rifles through her bag, remembering she had a blank credchip somewhere. If Militech did anything dirty, V should be able to transfer the eddies onto a clean chip.

V makes a beeline to the front door, cement blockers and walls covered in graffiti.  More neon signs, the bars name over the door in glowing turquoise letters. Lizzie Jizzie scrawled across an outside wall; two screens on each side of the double stores, all covered in Nicola ads requesting V ‘taste the love’.  Groups of people loiter in the open outside the bar. V’s eyes are drawn to the two bouncers outside the doors.

Two women, one leans against the outside wall as she puff away on a cigarette. Short slicked back hair that starts blue and then fades to green, eyes hidden behind sunglasses and a gold septum piercing in her nose. The other one stands in front of the doors, a yellow spiked bat held over her shoulders. Long hair pulled up into space buns, purple roots and pink ends. Both of her arms are metal; black with pink and teal accents as well as spikes along the forearms.  Both women are skimpily dressed, no shame in that. The one wielding the bat has a white top with cleavage going beyond her breasts,  showing her almost plastic looking skin and the Moxes tattoo across her chest. The other shorter haired bouncer is wearing neon pink pasties beneath a teal bomber jacket.  V’s been here before, has maybe seen them in passing, both really attractive. She’s not sure there’s a Mox member who isn’t.

“Hey there, dollface!~” The bat wielder greets her with a grin, as if she could actually see V’s face.

“Interest you in a preem BD?” The smoker offers.

“What you got?” V asks to be polite, she doesn’t honestly even like brain dances. But the girls are cute, so… no harm in a little small talk.

“What don't we got? Women and men of your dreams, synaptic acting A-listers. No washed-up virtuporn boytoys or blow-up dolls here.”

“Auteur stuff - It'll grip your heart and blow your nerves right outta your body. Pure bit-based ecstasy - that’s why people come here.”

“Sure know how to sell it, don’t you?” V signs, trying not to laugh as the bouncers give her the spiel.

“Not a sales pitch, it's a warning. I'll give you one word - bespoke. Not for everyone's synapses.”

“Think you can handle it?”

“Think I can manage it,” she tells them, knowing damn well she has no intent to get any sort of virtus.

“Mmhm. Couple of things you need to know first,” she affectionately rubs her bat, “Ahem. Severe penalties for any unauthorized recording… “

“No drugs, no groping. Someone catch your eye, you do not grab 'em. You find 'em in the catalog, ask for a BD and get yourself a box.”

“No worries, not even my first time here.”

“Door's open. Have fun, Doll.”

“Welcome to Lizzie’s.”

The double doors open and V walks through a blue beaded curtain. There’s a front room, a stand where a woman with a bright pink mohawk is selling clothes, under another Nicola ad and neon letters saying ‘Fuck To Death’ behind her.

“My what a sweet face you have,” she says, her tone honeyed but its clear she hasn’t looked up from the counter, not even noticing as the masked merc walks past through another beaded curtain and double doors to the main club.

“Here in Night City~”

Music thrums as she steps in; the room is lit with strobing pink and teal lights. Couches with neon glowing lights on the underneath, some people with BD wreaths and others playing on their phones. People dancing  to the club music and  bar tucked away in the corner.  She doubts the client will be right at the start of opening, so V finds an empty stretch of couch, sitting down on black leather with a pink neon light at her feet.  V slides the Militech cred chip into her mask, it takes a moment, but she manages to crack it and get a look at the inside.

Ten thousand eddies and malware; it was meant to send all of Maelstrom’s data to another server and then fry the systems. Meaning, if V handed it over Maelstrom would get their systems fried, with her and Jackie dealing with the aftermath. V slides the blank cred chip into another slot in her mask’s edge, transfering the clean money over to it. Fucking around with tech and daemons isn’t her strong suit, but if she recalls Bug telling her that fairly simple malware like this could be reworked pretty easily. She works through the coding with her thoughts, the data and interface all on her mask. If she can get the coding right, she might be able to have it send something other than data back to the Militech servers…  Shifting and twisting what she thinks will work… if she’s done it right, instead of sending data back to Militech’s server, it should inject the same malware back into their system. If used, it would spike both Maelstrom and Militech.

She’ll call up T-Bug before they hit Maelstrom, double check she did the steps right. If Maelstrom play nice, they can pay and be done, if not...she can fuck over the gangoons, Militech, and walk away with an extra ten thousand in her pocket.  She puts the credchips in her pockets, spiked one in her left and clean one in the right.

Time to have a look around for the client. V making a beeline for the bar, bartenders always have all the info. Lizzie’s Bar in neon over the drink station, a brightly blue lit corner where a man works at making drinks, shelves of booze behind him.  She climbs onto a blue vinyl bar stool, feet no longer on the ground and unable to resist swinging them a bit. The bartender comes to her; a man with slicked back dark hair,  glowing white cybernetic eyes, and silver embellishments run across his cheeks and jaw. His shirt bright blue with a tropical design and if not for a single button above his pants, it’d be completely open. Beaded necklaces bringing even more attention to his exposed chest and stomach.

“Get you something?”

“Looking for Evelyn Parker,” she speaks the woman’s name, not wanting to waste time fingerspelling it even if the sound feels tight in her throat.

“And you are?”

“V, me and her were supposed to meet here.”

“Well, V,  it’s a pleasure. I’m Mateo.”

“Nice to meet you… any idea where she’s hanging around?”

“Club's big. Gonna have to look around. Can't do it for you-”

“It's all right, Mateo,” a feminine voice calls out and V’s eyes are drawn to a woman at the bar, “I was waiting for this one.”

There’s something about her, distinctly Mox and also not. Her hair is a short vivid blue bob with bangs cut straight across her forehead. Heavy makeup, a tight silver sequin dress with a dipping neckline, red thigh high vinyl boots, a black trench coat that pools around her knees with a pink and white feathered collar.  She holds two fingers up to the bartender and moves to the bar stool closer. There’s a clang and tink of glass; Mateo getting out a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses.  

“That won’t be necessary,” V signs before he can fill the second glass, “I don’t drink on the job.”

“Aww, what a good girl,” Evelyn coos, a smile pulling at her painted lips, “Evelyn Parker. I knew it was you as soon as you walked in.”

“And you decided to let me wander around instead of introducing yourself?”

“I wanted to get a good look at you first.”

“And?” V watches as Evelyn takes a swig of her tequila.

“Rest assured, if I didn’t like what I see, you’d know,” she takes another drink, “C'mon. Know a place we can talk where ears won't prick up to listen. We'll be in the lounge, Mateo. Anyone asks we're not here.”

Evelyn takes her black clutch purse and leaves the bar, V puts some money down for Mateo; if nothing else to compensate for his time. V hops down from the stool and follows after Evelyn, through a pair of double doors that goes into a hallway tinted red and pink, booth doors lining the way. The blue haired woman opens up a door, standing to the side as V walks in.

The booth is small, circular with a red vinyl couch around it’s curve, a table in the middle projects a hologram of a stripper who twists and dances. V sinks into the cushions, watching Evelyn stride in and light a cigarette as the door closes behind her. Everyone in the city a smoker it seems.  As Evelyn puffs on a cigarette, V is somehow just noticing the gold nail like finger caps she wears.

“Dex had a load to say about you. Called you professional, effective. And trustworthy. I hope he wasn't overselling…“

“You don’t give a shit what he says,” V retorts, not missing the tinge of disdain Evelyn’s voice. V doesn’t need anyone to blow wind up her ass.

“You have trouble accepting compliments?”

“Flattery’s beneath you.”

“Maybe Dex is beneath you,” Evelyn moves around the table, grabbing an ashtray from the table, then sitting down next to V, crossing her legs, “Have you known each other long?”

“First time working with him.”

“Hmmm, I've heard there are two kinds of fixers. Those with stable crews on long contracts and short leashes. Loyalty and predictability they value above all else. Then there's the other kind- Dex's kind.”

“Meaning?”

“Headhunters. They lay their trust elsewhere, not in people but in a thing- their intuition. They bet on potential. And if they lose that bet…It's the last mistake they ever make. I’m hoping Dex’s intuition served him well in this case.”

“Let's get to the point, why am I here, what’s this about?”

“Your target - I trust you know what it is.”

“Arasaka biochip.”

“Mmmhmm, their Relic, secure your soul technology. Arasaka's poured billions into personality transfer technology. But me - I just want the data on this one. The chip is tucked away inside Konpeki Plaza, the hotel. You ever been?”

“Fancy corp hotels? Yeah, no, way out of my price range.”

“The decor's to die for. As you'll see for yourself.’

So, V and Jackie have to bust into some fancy hotel to get the chip people are arguing about on tv. Understood, so far. But, theres a lot of risks involved in a heist of this scale. Its one thing to rip off a dropped piece of cargo or a convoy from a corp; but this kind of top notch tech?

“You know where the chip is, exactly?”

“In a suite on the top floor. The room's occupied by Yorinobu Arasaka.”

V swallows the lump in her throat, the son of Saburo Arasaka, heir to the entire fucking corp. She’s once again finding herself wondering why Dex thinks her and Jackie can handle a job of this caliber, the Arasaka’s seem downright un-fucking-touchable to a merc like her.

“He’s in NC?”

“Don't you read the screamsheets?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Well, the media couldn't get enough of Yori coming to Night City, it was all over the headlines. He's heir apparent to the Arasaka empire - Saburo Arasaka's only surviving son.”

“So, he trying to take over while he’s in town?” V asks, trying to understand what exactly is going on.

“Only a handful of people in Night City know what the Arasakas' real plans are.”

“And you included in that?”

A smirk stretches across her face, green eyes devious; “Yorinobu is a puppet. He lost all his cards years ago when he failed to do daddy's bidding. Saburo's had Yori's balls in a vise for years. He might just turn the screw and crush them outright if he learns his son's up to no good again.”

“Someone like him is bound to have an army surrounding him, that hotel is probably a fortress by now.”

“Yorinobu keeps exactly no muscle around. Not one guard. Got rid of them a long time ago.”

“Why?”

“Surely you know what they say about Arasaka intel? Sneeze in Night City and a blossom drops from a cherry tree in Tokyo. Yorinobu was convinced his Arasaka security detail reported directly to his father.”

“If you got a spare ache up your sleeve, I’d love to see it.”

“ Now, this should make your tits perk up,” she says, putting the ashtray aside and leans forward.

“My tits are quite comfortable where they are, I assure you.”

“Cute, but more importantly, Yorinobu recently swiped the chip from an Arasaka laboratory. He's made a deal with NetWatch, aims to sell it to them. Have you spotted my ace yet or do I need to spell things out?”

“Okay, no muscle because he has daddy issues and no security on the device because he stole it from said daddy. Any idea where he’s hiding the thing?”

“Likely in a specialized container, one that mimics an organic neural environment. On the outside, it looks like an ordinary briefcase.”

“Which would be where?”

“You'll see for yourself soon enough,” she stamps out her cigarette and stands up, walking to the door, “Provided we're done gossiping about the Arasakas.”

“You know anything else about him?” V asks, wanting to see if she can mine any more useful information about the heir that could help.

“Quite a bit, actually. He studied finance and biotech in Tokyo. Hm, probably didn't have a choice in the matter, come to think of it. Saburo was grooming him to be his successor. But then Yorinobu vanished to chase his own dreams, cut himself off from the corp for years. Long story short, though the black sheep returned, the bitter taste remained. But that's only one side of him. There's another - an intelligent man who has always walked his own path and so has his own designs on the corp.”

There’s no doubt in V’s mind now that Evelyn knows Yorinobu personally, the way she talks and speaks is clearly colored by experience. Some prodigal son who ran away from his father and then came back with his tail between his legs when he couldn’t cut it alone. An odd lump in V’s throat at the thought; running away from shitty dads, being a black sheep…

“Sounds like any other corpo dick to me,” V signs, not liking the parallels her brain is starting to draw.

“Hm. Ever tried to imagine what life might be like for an emperor's son? You have everything, yet you are no one, nothing. At least as long as you remain in Saburo Arasaka's shadow. I…” she scratches almost sheepishly at her neck, her wannabe femme fatale attitude slipping for just a moment, “...sympathize. It's a vulnerability I understand well.”

V is still finding herself finding uncomfortable similarities between herself and fucking Yorinobu Arasaka. Its stupid, she doesn’t know the man and he has the wealth to destroy her for pretending she does. But, a power hungry leader for a father, leaving home, terrified of being under his thumb. Only difference, well many, but most pressing is she’s managed to make it on her own...so far… at least. Not that she hasn’t had her doubts or worries.

“So, what’s next?” V asks, practically shaking her head to dispel the weirdness swimming in her brain. Black sheep or not; Yorinobu Arasaka has a silver spoon in his mouth. She’s a nomad turned Night City edgerunner; their lives couldn’t be more far removed.

“Now comes the best part,” Evelyn opens the door and turns to leave, “Follow me. Got somethin' for you. Should help you plan. Braindance from Konpeki Plaza.”

V follows Evelyn out into the hallway, “ how’s a braindance going to help?”

“Think BDs are only good for fondling virtual tits, jackin' off to in those boxes?”

“Thought that was the main selling point, yeah,” V teases back as they turn a corner in the hallway, headed towards a door.

“No. They can be a very useful tool. Good for analyzing details human perception, even boosted, doesn't grasp. Exactly what you need,” Evelyn teases as they enters a dressing room, a few Mox at the tables painting their faces with makeup and styling their hair.

“What's on the tape?” Through another door and neon lights fade to harsher, darker lighting.

“Yorinobu's suite. The glorious interior,” the walk down a short metal flight of stairs, “You'll need to locate the Relic yourself. Hope I grabbed enough detail to make that possible.”

The stop at the end of the steps, Evelyn turning to look at V with a hand on her hips. Not that V really had any more doubt about it, but she’s been given more evidence that Evelyn and Yorinobu know each other.

“You recorded it?”

“Mhm. BD rec implant. Why, you object?”

“Not particularly, who you know and what you do with them is none of my business, lets see the braindance.”

“Judy'll help. She's a Mox, too,” down another short flight of stairs, deeper into the basement, “Besides, we go back… years.”

Evelyn stops them again outside a pair of double doors, Lizzie’s is starting to feel like a little maze at this point. But more importantly, Evelyn’s paused again, stumbled over her words and showed something under her facade. V felt something was off, a Mox but somehow not, and she’s starting to think Evelyn is purposely trying to put up a front. That she’s trying, a little too hard, to come across like femme fatale or corpo. Evelyn clears her throat.

“V, this is important. Judy's always been there for me. Always helped out. I trust her. But she's a Mox, not the latest member of your crew. Try not to forget. So you'll be a good girl, tread lightly and keep that tongue on a leash.

“Oh, but it's not my tongue you need to worry about.”

“Hmm, can feel you smirking under that mask, keep it up and I’ll tie those hands down, too,” Evelyn says with a wink as they pass through the double doors into another hallway, then through one more door.

Evelyn leads her through the basement doors, a dark little room with servers, netrunning chairs and screens. In an office chair slouching with one leg on a desk is a woman; late twenties or so with olive skin. One side of her hair is shaved, the other shaggy and down to nearly her shoulder, a deep green color with bright pink ends. The woman is heavily tattooed, bright red roses nestled above her collar bones, a spider web on her right shoulder, a cartoon ghost sitting in a shell, and a large number 13 on her bicep are among the standouts. But V could spend hours describing each artwork.

“Ahem.”

“Hey, there you are…” Judy greets Evelyn, a playful almost flirty tone to her voice.

“This is V. She's here for that BD roll. And V, this is Judy - best braindance editor I know.”

“Enough already, gonna make me barf.” There’s a slight accent to Judy’s voice, not unlike Jackie’s.

“Impressive set up,” V signs, at least, she assumes it’s impressive. Tech is already a bit of a blind spot for her, especially when it comes to brain dances.

“Mhm, Analyzers, sensory sig amps, acoustic and emotive wave monitors, facial expression translators.”

“Ahem, Judy,” Evelyn stops the inked editor before she can tell V more.

“All right, all right… Compiled your BD, Ev.”

“What do you think? Will it do?”

“Still pretty raw… but yeah, oughta do.”

“Mhm. V needs to get deep inside, that's most important.”

“So, let's calibrate, tune it to her,” Judy stands up from the table and moves to the desk closer to the door, sitting down below a neon pink light, “Believe me, I've dealt with worse. Should see the dig-Jig Street porn we gotta contend with sometimes.”

Evelyn has followed behind Judy, standing behind the editor’s chair, “So we drop V inside? Let her look, let her rummage around, right?”

“How 'bout it, V? Raw braindance - ever taken a dip before?” Judy leans forward on the desk, looking at V.

“No, not at all, but I’m a quick learner,” that feels like a lie as soon as she says it, “ and need to know what I’m dealing with. So.”

“Siddown, settle in, and we'll get you goin'.”

V turns around to the chairs, either netrunning or ripperdoc chairs, she’s not sure. But, she climbs into one, settling down into it as Judy comes back out around the desk. Judy is nearby, fiddling with a brain dance wreath.

“Be easier to fit without the mask.”

“Mask has optic tech, linked to my neuroport and biomon, should work just like it does with any set of cybereyes.”

“‘Fraid of ruining the mystery?” Evelyn asks, teasing again.

“Mask is for business, lot harder to track a merc if you got no clue what they look like. You that curious, feel free to try and track me down during my off time.”

“Fine, fine,”  Judy affixes the BD wreath around V’s head, lining it up properly on the merc before walking back to the desk,  “Gotta create your sensory profile first.”

“Go for it.”

“Now, sit still, look at me. Gonna run the analysis soft should feel a slight tingling…”

V’s breath catches as it prickles across her skin, a crackling and warm sensation crawling across every nerve. From the base of her skull, down her spine, across her arms to her fingers, running down her legs to her toes. A vague pulse, a current of something.

“OK now let's set the optics and other sensory sigs. Look smack into these two screens, pretend it's an eye exam.”

The two wreath panels flash and strobe white light, building in urgency and frequency.

“Gimme two more minutes. One more sec, need to get the pain receptor limiters in… OK. All set. Need to test your profile first. Tossing in a sam-”

“We can just use my recording, there’s no point in wasting time,” Evelyn interrupts Judy.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“I’m fine with just jumping to her BD,” V interjects her opinion, “better to get right to it.”

Judy sighs and rolls her eyes; “Fine, fine, what do I know.”

“Great, I’ll just need to patch Bug in.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Who?” Judy jumps up from her desk, crossing her arms and looks at V like she just asked to summon Satan.

“Runner from my crew, security specialist. She'll tell me what to look for while we analyze. No problem, I assume?”

“Actually, it is a problem! You’re already asking me to cut fucking corners and now you want to bring someone else in?! Not what we agreed, Ev!”

“It’s not a big deal,” V signs, not sure what Judy’s sudden problem is.

“No big deal! You don't quite grasp the risks I took by lettin' you in here! What I'm risking pokin' around with this stuff!”

Judy continues to yell and V rolls her eyes, she’s a BD editor, not part of the actual crew, the client, or the fixer. If Arasaka goes after anyone it sure as shit won’t be Judy, so why is she throwing a fit.

“And you don’t seem to grasp the risk I’d be taking if me and my partner went stumbling into that hotel with no fucking clue as to what we or our runner are up against. I miss one hidden turret and I get pumped full of lead, either my runner links in or I’m gone.”

V makes a point to twist her head and look at Evelyn at the last part; Bug is the most highly trained member of their crew and Dex’s go to runner. Without her involvement and eyes on it, the job won’t be going anywhere.

“Bye then!” Judy yells out, “good riddance and don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

“Judy, please…”

“Ev, she wants to bring a 'runner in. What part of that don't you understand?! How do I know she'll only perch in this footage, observe, not fuck with anything?!”

“Because Bug is literally involved with the heist, has a dog in this fight, and wants it to go well too,” V signs, hoping the AI voice is getting her annoyance across, Judy does level a glare at her over Evelyn’s shoulder.

“Me,” Evelyn steals Judy’s attention, “I'm your guarantee.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Help me, this one last time. I promise everything'll work out,  just like we planned.”

And it hits V, between the flirting and the soft drop in Evelyn’s voice here. The reason Judy is so worked up about this; her and Evelyn have something. Friends teetering the line into something else, girlfriends already, or maybe even more than that. V’s not sure. But there’s something distinctly not platonic to the way they interact. Maybe that’s the play on Evelyn’s. Scam Yorinobu Arasaka then run away with her porn editor girlfriend.

“Fine,” Judy shakes her head and sits back down, the anger gone, “call Bug and we’ll dive in.”

That issue taken care of V rings up T-Bug, the netrunner answering after a ring or two.

“What’s up, V?”

“Bug, listen. I got some useful footage from Konpeki Plaza. It's a braindance.”

“Konpeki? Ohhh, thought as much…” Judy looks up at Evelyn.

“Someone there with you?”

“Client and her...friend...is what I’ll settle on; that’s not what matters right now, its going to give us a layout of the room, a chance to find where the chip is, and some idea of security.”

“All right, see if I can walk you through it. Jackin’ into your tech now,” notifications alert across her mask’s interface, “Mh, you've gotta give me access. Opening port 1779… Secure protocol? Good, I'm goin' in. Should be getting my request… …now.”

“Got it. You ready?”

“Millisec. OK, connection confirmed, now some quick temp ICE and… we're clear. Ready to dance.”

“Let’s do this.”

And with that the wreath panels begin to flash and strobe in front of V’s eyes, quicker and quicker until the world goes out in white. And in the next snap of a moment, one reality becomes another. Her body is no longer her own, she’s placed in Evelyn’s mind standing outside an elevator. What feels like her body, moves to adjust a purse strap, gold capped nails.

“All right, V - eyes open. Gotta find out where Yorinobu is keepin’ the Relic. Everything is controlled by thought and intention; you can step into editor mode, access everything her cyberware picked up a signal of, can scan, rewind, fast forward. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

The doors open, exposing the hotel room, and a horror show of a man walking towards her. V can feel the spike in fear, whether from Evelyn in the moment or V’s own instinctual reaction; she isn’t sure. He’s around eight feet tall, complete metal and cyberware from his feet to his upper lip; more machine than human. Wire, hydraulics, steel; all branded with Arasaka. The flesh section of his head is sickly ashen protrusive veins, glowing red where eyes should be. As he draws closer there’s a whirr of machinery, hydraulics pistoning to give him movement. How is he alive? How is he functional?

“You look like a cut of fuckable meat. Are you?” He asks as he walks past, voice edged with something inhuman.

Evelyn reigns her fear back in, the past version of her walking deeper into the room, where a dark haired man sits at a table in front of a large screen where another blonde haired man speaks back to him.

“I said no,” the dark haired man speaks out, his voice colored by a Japanese accent and V knows it’s Yorinobu. Evelyn continues to walk closer, her heels clicking against the floor.

“They'll have my head for this…”

“Then you shall perish for a good cause.”

“But I-”

“Make yourself comfortable. I need a minute to finish,” Yorinobu tells Evelyn, sparing just a glance over his shoulder.

“Listen in on that conversation, V! Could be something important.”

She wants to watch through first, do an initial watch to look for things and then go more in depth. Two watches at least should mean she’s covered everything. Yorinobu switches the conversation to his holophone, pacing around the room. Evelyn meanwhile puts her purse down on the chair, then walks behind him, trying to keep him in range

“My father is a tired, visionless old greybeard who thinks nothing will change and he'll live forever in his tiny, frozen bubble! You will listen to this - Saburo is an addled despot utterly removed from reality, stuck in some fossilized vision of a world that no longer exists! Of a world that may never have existed! We have not seen eye to eye for the last twenty years. I am quite sure we won't now.”

Yorinobu continues to talk as Evelyn pours herself a glass full of champagne and takes a drink, the tech allowing V to taste the sweet bubbles as if they were on her own tongue. Glass in hand she takes a slow look around the room and walks back to the center of it, sitting at the table, the plush of the cushion letting her sink into it.

“Noted,” Yorinobu says into the phone as he starts to walk back to Evelyn, there’s something in his eyes, “enough.”

He hands up, putting the phone down on the table. Evelyn looks up at him and V through her eyes gets her first good look at the Arasaka heir. Dark hair with the sides shaved down close to the scalp, glasses perched on his nose. His cyberware is surprisingly minimal for a man of his wealth, two streaks of silver going up his neck to his jawline.

“Sorry, to make you wait,” he touches Evelyn’s shoulder and the woman rises, “business can be stupid.”

They’re close and V can feel his hands on her, Evelyn’s, hips. Evelyn’s hand on his shoulder.

“Mmh, it wasn't long,” Evelyn hums and it feels wholy unnatural to feel like she’s speaking with someone else's voice, “Not even long enough for me to grow bored.”

His hands start to creep and Evelyn goes to pull away, movements playful, when Yorinobu pulls her back in. Then he starts to dip his mouth.

“Fuck no!” V yells out as she pushes the thought to enter editor mode, separating her senses from Evelyn’s before she has to feel Yorinobu’s lips on Evelyn’s neck. She looks down and sees herself, though slightly digital, her bright blue nail polish and not gold jewelry. The scene around her has paused and a digital filter over them.

“Something wrong?” T-Bug asks with a slight laugh.

“Nearly had corpo droolon me,” V signs, happy to find the tech allows her translator to work in editor mode, “was going do a watch through, then a second go in editor mode, figured two look throughs would be best...then”

“Then you nearly had to lock lips with Yorinobu Arasaka.”

“Gag, rewinding back to scan the call fully.” With a thought she watches as Evelyn and Yorinobu move in reverse, getting back to win the heir was starting the call. Once she gets where she needs to be she scans his phone and restarts it from editor mode, thankful for the sensory disconnect. She hears the man on the other end of Yorinobu’s call speak.

“Please speak with your father. He's taken a particular interest in this project, he can certainly explain the risks invol--”

“My father is a tired, visionless old greybeard who thinks nothing will change and he'll live forever in his tiny, frozen bubble!”

“I should not even be listening to such things.”

“You will listen to this - Saburo is an addled despot utterly removed from reality, stuck in some fossilized vision of a world that no longer exists! Of a world that may never have existed! We have not seen eye to eye for the last twenty years. I am quite sure we won't now.”

“Read the documentation carefully. The Relic requires specific storage conditions. You MUST provide them.”

“Noted,” Yorinobu hangs up again and V pauses the BD.

“Heard that? Relic docs gotta be around here somewhere. Look for them,” Bug confirms.

“Once we find where the chip is stored we’ll do a clean sweep of the security, okay Bug.”

“Smart thinking.”

V watches half-heartedly as Yorinobu and Evelyn interact; her range of vision and senses limited to Evelyn. She fast forwards through the two canoodling, only mildly catching Evelyn mentioning something about ‘candy’ though V assumes it’s of the nose variety. Evelyn separates away from Yorinobu for a moment and walks to a control panel, offering to lend music to the scene.

But V’s interest is piqued when she catches Evelyn rifling through Yorinobu’s messages, a few spam and scam emails. Then she pulls up an email from Clouds, a dollhouse in the city. Evelyn deletes it, V rewinds back and pauses. The email thanks Yorinobu for his patronage; hmm, heir has a taste for doll prostitutes. Something, Evelyn doesn’t want that email to be there… Its all beginning to make more sense and V’s not sure she likes it.

The merc fast forwards further through the BD, moving through to Evelyn playing awful music and going to meet Yorinobu in his bed. Where he sits with a tablet, the second the screen is clear. She pauses and scans it, bingo.

“Manual details a special temp controlled container. Relic needs to be kept real cool,” T-Bug explains through the technobabble.

“Chip’s got to be in a freezer.”

“Yep. Could damage it otherwise. OK, switch on thermal layer detection in the editor. Should be easier to spot where Yorinobu's keeping the chip.”

V switches with a thought, the world turning into temperature signatures as she searches for unnatural cold places and spots. An air conditioner pumps out cold air, but that would be a stupid place to put billion dollar tech. One malfunction and you lost it all.  She rewinds back to get more of a view, a ice bucket for champagne, a fridge?

“That’s just a regular fancy fridge, not cold enough,” Bug tells her when she spends t0o long contemplating it.

V rewinds further and an amass of blue ice cold air from behind a pillar catches her eye, It seems to come up through the floor, unlike the AC, ice bucket, or fridge she has no clear idea where this one is coming from. A secret container in the floor? Seems like a much craftier place to hide expensive stolen tech, V scans it.

“Right, grabbed the heat sig. Matches the spec in the docs,” T-Bug tells her.

“Chip has to be here, we got it.”

“Mmhmm, time to scan security.”

V switches back to the regular mode, looking for what she needs to scan. The camera system first.

“Shit, cameras packed with newtech motion sensors, heat sig activators. IFF.”

“Can you kill it?”

“With access to their subnet, but we need the Flathead bot for that.”

They continue on, with Bug commenting on each security measure they scan. Alarm with fresh firmware, Automated turrets connected to the hotels server. Yorinobu’s pistol, loaded with the safety on. V rewinds and fast forward, searching anything else that might be an issue but comes up empty handed.

“Seems like we got everything. Looks like all their security systems are linked to the hotel subnet. We need the Flathead. No other way to shut down these systems,” T-Bug sumises.

“No way around it ourselves?”

“Nope. Least I'm fresh out of ideas. Think we got everything we need.”

“Okay, but hang on the line with me after we get out of the BD, need you to look over something for me, if you don’t mind.”

“No problem.”

V exists out of the brain dance, a flash of white and the world returns. Judy and Evelyn looking at her from across a desk, T-Bug still in the call panel of her mask. Her eyes hurt, her throat feels dry, and she can feel a migraine pushing at her temples. She fucking hates brain dances.

“Get everything you need?” Judy asks, a dark raised eyebrow.

“From the BD, yeah, got to clear something with Bug while I got her on the horn,” V gets the chip she fucked with out of her pocket and slides it into the proxy reader of her mask, “got a chip I fucked around with; decrypted and tried to rewrite the virus on it, so it will spike the people who gave it to me. But I want to make sure, I didn’t fuck up.”

“Need me to grade your work, V?”

“Kind of…”

“Oh, shit, V. You fucking over Militech?” T-Bug exclaims, a little pride in her voice as she reads over the code, thankfully her voice is only audible to V through her hearing aids.

“Mmhmm.”

“And you don’t want to sign and have your translator read it, because you don’t want to risk the client knowing you’re fucking over Militech while prepping to fuck over Arasaka.”

“Mmhmm, will it work?”

“It will fry the servers of any tech it’s plugged in proper and fry the servers it’s linked to, a Militech van from the looks of it. Won’t be a dent in their bottom line, but will surely piss off some reps. That what you meant for it to do?”

“That was the plan.”

“Preem work then, but I do want to make some...edits,” T-Bug edits the chips code in front of V’s eyes, “there we go.”

“Something wrong with it?” Nerves creep up V’s throat, if she fucked up, she’d rather learn her lesson now.

“Nah, I added a bit of a personal touch for you, nothing wrong with a little style added to your hacking.”

“Appreciate the help.”

“You know I won’t always be here to check your work.”

“I know, I know, but it doesn't mean I won’t take advantage while I can. Thanks again, talk soon.”

“Later, V.” With that V hangs up the call and slots the spiked credchip back into its respective pocket. Judgement, suspicion, and resentment are radiating off of Judy.

“I'll wipe the cache and your data. You were never here.”

Judy stands up from the desk and V tries to decipher a few of the tattoos she sees, noticing more sea themed ones, like a dolphin and sharks. V flinches behind her mask as Judy removes the BD wreath, glad to be free of the contraption, but she could have taken it off herself.

“Thanks…” V signs, despite this, just trying to be polite despite their spat.

“Keep it,” Judy hands her the wreath, V getting a good look at the octopus tattooed on the woman’s hand,  “I'll put it on Ev's tab. Portable device for handling BDs. I already uploaded your calibration settings. Not as sophisticated as what we got here, but should do the trick.”

“And it keeps you outta harm's way. Clever.”

“Speaking of harms way, know what I see looking at you,” Judy pins her hands to her hips and gives V that look again, “walking, talking corpses.”

“We needed this recording, just… relax, will you?”

“Relax! If Arasaka finds out you have it, you're dead. I'm dead! If you fuck this up and Arasaka comes knocking on my door!”

“Judy, relax, that’s… not gonna happen,” Evelyn is the one trying to soothe the editors temper again.

“Evelyn, please… no shortcuts. You go that route, city'll always win. So be careful.”

“'Course I will be. Besides, we'll talk in a bit,” Evelyn looks to V,  “lets walk.”

V stashes the new BD wreath into her bag and climbs from the chair, following Evelyn out of Judy’s basement space. It’s not like V is heartless or doesn’t know anxiety; but of everyone involved, Judy has the least skin in the game. V can’t spend her time coddling someone who doesn’t have a whole hell of a lot to worry about compared to her, Jackie, or Bug.

“Well? What do you think?” Evelyn asks and V can see that hint of nerves coming back.

“You’re not worried about this coming back on you, if they start looking through everyone he’s been dealing with?”

“They'll have a long list, then. Packed full of big names. Much bigger than mine. You tell me who they check first. Corpo hotshots and cutthroats? Or a little bedroom plaything like me?”

“Well, then... “ V tries to find her words, this all seems, too good, “intel on the heir, on the place, know roughly where the chip is, and how we should get to it… Seems like a perfect plan and job.”

“Mm. Thanks. Now the punch line, please.”

“Seems too good to be true, there’s got to be a catch…”

“Cold feet? Are you looking to get out of it?”

“I want to know you’re in control here; that there’s no secrets, no catches, no surprises that turns this heist from a cakewalk into a bloodbath.”

“V. I have zero reasons to haze you. We’re in this together. Really. Trust me that I got this.”

“Okay, if you say so, what next?”

“V….” there’s nothing good in the way Evelyn pauses, words stuck to her tongue for a moment, “Do this job for me. I mean me alone. No splitting the payout with anyone else. No middlemen. No Dex.”

Of course, of fucking course, there had to be something. Evelyn’s trying to play cutthroat corpo, fucking over a fixer because she has dollar signs in her eyes. But, she’s too damn naïve to the game to know that no merc with the lead in their gun would pull that shit. Greedy mercs who screw over their fixers end up broke on the street at best and swimming  with cement shoes at worst. And a high profile one like Dex has the means to destroy her.

“Fucking knew there was a catch, you want to fuck over our fixer.”

“Dex is a middleman. And a useless one at this point.”

“You don't fuck with fixers. That's the one rule every merc in this city knows - and actually follows!”

“But if we're smart…”

“There is no smart to this, a mistake like that will cost me my reputation and without that, a merc is fucking nothing in this city. Are you serious about this?”

“Better ask yourself that question. Do you want to spend the rest of your days blasting scavs? Or become a legend overnight? Your choice.”

“He would put me in the ground, if I pulled some gonk shit like that.”

“I could give you fifty percent, V, . Eddies enough to do whatever the hell you like, without needing Dex for anything. With cred like that, you wouldn’t want for anything, you could retire.”

“It’s not about the money.”

“I thought you were a merc. I thought it was always about the money.”

“No, its not actually. He trusts me, he’s taking a leap with me. And even if he weren’t, I’m not the only person I got to worry about. Bug vouched for me too and Jackie is my partner. I fuck over my fixer, it hurts them too. I’m not going to send them down the river for a bigger cut of the pie.”

“Fine. I never asked. But V?”

“Yeah.”

“I just hope you're as good as you are naive.”

“Pff, you think I’m the naive one, here. Cute.

“If you need me, call. I'll send you my number. Now go. I need a few words with Judy.”

“Later, then.”

And with that V heads back up the stairs, tension draws tight across her shoulders. This whole damn thing with Evelyn throwing her off. The BD and everything seems clear cut, if they get the Flathead, the job might even be easy. But, wanting to fuck over their fixer. Evelyn is not the corpo or femme fatale or whatever she seems to think she is. A doll, V’s sure of that.  Evelyn must have deleted the email from Clouds because its’s connected to her and the Mox offer protection to sex workers; must be where she and Yorinobu met. Clouds even has connections to Arasaka through the Tyger Claws. And she managed to become a powerful rich man’s plaything, so now she thinks she’s smart enough to fuck over not only him but Dex too.

She’s a messy client with good intel. V doesn’t want Evelyn to get hurt. The older woman is in over her head and doesn’t know how the merc world works. She doesn’t deserve to get hurt for that, the last thing V wants is for Dex to lose his cool and hurt the woman. But, V also owes it to him to let him know Evelyn put that deal on the table. If she doesn’t, what’s to say Evelyn won’t pull this on another fixer? Or Dex gets another job aligned with her and the next merc she offers this to isn’t so loyal? She has to tell him.

V fumbles with her holo as she walks back through the club, doing some quick research on Konpeki Plaza. Finding their policy on guns. Given the stealth nature of this mission, she can assume the only way they’re getting in is to find a way to get in like regular patrons. Which means they’d be scanned for guns as soon as they get through the door. If something goes south, she doesn’t want her and Jackie left unarmed with a hoard of Arasaka soldiers on their ass.

But they can’t confiscate cyberware.

Might be time to cash in her savings for something. Her holo buzzes in her hand as Dex calls; her stomach drops. Unsure for a moment what to say to him, if she should go ahead and tell him what Evelyn tried to pull. Would he lose his temper? Drop the entire damn heist? Would he hurt her for it? It weighs on her shoulders as she pushes through a blue beaded curtain, considering her options with a finger hovering over the phone.

[jonah-aesthetic]

That One Pt. 2  I Jonah Marais

Jonah Marais X Reader / Ivette X Daniel Seavey 

Plot: After Jonah Takes Y/n to his favourite ice cream parlour and takes care of her. She’s conflicted on her feelings for him, is he who everyone thinks he is? Or is he hiding himself from the world?

Word Count: 5K+

Author’s Note: More POC characters and pictured links. Sawyer may or may not be in this one. I feel like this part wasn’t good, but enjoy. Not edited.

Rating: 16+

Part 1 

________________

Mentally preparing yourself for the aimless flirting you let a sigh leave your lips.Turing toward him, your breath hitched as you looked up into his green. predatory smirk etched into his pink lips, you wanted them on yours. Nope you mentally hissed at yourself, you didn’t you couldn’t. That’s what you told yourself because you did want him. every inch of him tangled within you. But you couldn’t give him that satisfaction, so you bite at his ego every chance you got. Jonah was after you, everywhere you seemed to go he fell into your path. 

“Babe? Really?” Glaring him town, didn’t seem to work since he held a few inches from you.

“You love it, now lets get you home.” His hand is gentle resting between your shoulder blades. Beginning to guide you to the door, swerving you through the crowd making sure no one bumped into you. “What if I don’t want to leave?”  The alcohol in your veins doing the talking for you. 

“I didn’t think you did, Ivette has Daniel.” Jonah states still walking you do the door. You sighed in response, he was right you didn’t want to stay here if it wasn’t with Ivette. And frankly you didn't mind leave especially with your aching feet still in those heels. 

“Leaving so soon?” Julie’s sickly sweet voice was recognisable anywhere. You immediate turned at the first word, Jonah in tow following your every move like it was his job. 

Julie wasn’t alone, two others flanked her side. You met them before at brunch a few weeks ago. Rachel on her right, gleaming with her beautiful Korean features. Savannah on her left, beaming with her fiery red hair. 

Julie had on the exact replica of your dress, but hers was a crisp white. Gorgeous contrast against her mahogany skin, “Yeah I’m not feeling it, Jonah is giving me a ride home.” Your tone innocent as you smiled at them. He leaned into your side at the mention of his name, His arm now snaking around your waist in a protecting manner. Shuddering you felt the need to push him away, but not in the presence of her. 

“So the rumours are true, you two are together?” The prodding question came from Rachel. Watching the way Jonah clung onto you, maybe it was an excuse to hold you and maybe it wasn't. 

“I would of never pegged you two together.” Savannah chokes on a laugh. Where was Ivette when you needed her?

“It’s the unlikely to fall in love. Isn't it?” Jonah asks, almost making your eye balls pop out of their sockets. Yet you still held eye contact with Julie hoping she didn’t see the way you just slipped up. 

“Yes I guess it is.” Julie stares you down, trying to uncover the lie wrapping in the truth. Rachel and Savannah sharing curious glances, shit. 

“Have a good night Julie, I know I sure will.” You mange to get out, blaming it on the liquor still hanging in. Surprised etched into their features watching the way Jonah guided you for the door again. 

“Glad to see that your chicken pox cleared nicely!” Julie hollered from behind both of you, halting in your tracks, Jonah walked right into you. 

“They did, thanks.” You choked on the words in your throat, not sure on how to reply to her. 

Jonah helped you into the passenger’s seat of his Jeep. Thanking him you slid into the leather seat and rested your back against it. He shut the Jeep door, eyes connecting with his for a brief moment before he jogged to the drivers side. Collecting himself inside looking to you, distracted by the phone in your hands. Seeing no message from Trey still, why would their be? It’s 3:09am. 

“What?” You ask finally noticing his stare, 

“Chicken pox?” He asks amused, 

“It’s a long story, due for another time.” You curse yourself for implying you wanted to see him again. 

“I knew you wanted to see me again.” He teases turning the key in the ignition, the jeep wakes and begins to roll. Lurching forward as Jonah presses on the gas. Balancing his foot off the clutch, smooth enough for there not to be a jerk in the motion of the Jeep. 

“Thank you, for going along in there. I don’t think Julie likes me that much.” You change direction of the conversation. Jonah’s cologne reaching your nose, cinnamon and honey. Not an ounce of alcohol lingering in, you smile lightly. It must of been pop whirling in that cup of his earlier.  

“Julie palekin, never liked her much. The money her daddy has morphs her personality. “ Jonah says, gripping the steering wheel firmly, switching gears with the climbing speed. Green eyes on the road, glancing at you every so often. “I didn’t mind playing your boyfriend again. I’m getting good at it don’t you think?” The smirk is back onto his lips, teasing you till you die must of been his mission.

“This is the last time, Marais.” You say now turning your attention towards the window. Sky pitch black, littering with beautiful stars. Watching the street signs as Jonah passes them. Staying quite noticing you wanted and only the hum of the radio was heard. 

Gale

Peterson 

Everett 

Boston 

Instead of making a left turn towards campus Jonah turns the Jeep right, into the city. You sit up confused, eyes holding worry as you felt the anxiety creep in. “You’re going the wrong way.” you note, looking at Jonah, “Relax I know where I’m going.” He says humorously watching the way you reacted. 

“Where are we going exactly?” 

“You’ll see.” his voice calming 

Less then ten minutes later Jonah pulls the Jeep into a deserted parking lot. Chocolate spot was written in glowing brown lettering a top the building. Glowing light poured through the windows indicating it was still open. Parking he cut the engine. Turning to Jonah, he had this intoxicating smile, one you hadn’t seen before. Nothing like the wolfish smirk that was always plastered on his lips. 

“Where are we?” You asked cautiously, 

“ if you read the letters, that with probably give you a hint.”  

“Funny, I meant what exactly is the chocolate spot?” Curiosity dripping in your words. 

“An ice cream parlour, now hurry up or l’ll leave you here. Fair warning Cheryl has a mean alarm.” Jonah says before climbing out of the vehicle, who is cheryl? 

You sigh for the millionth time thinking it was best to follow him. Rather then wait for his slow ass in the car. By yourself at 3;30 in the morning. Before you could reach for the handle the door opened for you. Causing the lights in the car to flash on again. Looking up you were met with Jonah’s beaming face.

“I can open the door myself.” You whisper pointedly at him, green eyes watching as you tried to move your legs. Seething at the burning sensation blossoming onto the pads on your feet. With the adrenaline and the fading affect of the liquor, you felt the entire pain that these high heels endured. 

“What?” Jonah’s voice holding concern, as he came to your side to aid you in any way he could. Too blind from the pain you hadn’t noticed how close he was willingly to get. Breath mingling with yours. 

“Heels,” You mustered through you teeth. 

Without another word Jonah knelled in front of you, moving your knees towards him to have your legs dangling out of the jeep. “Ouch!” You yelped at the sudden bolt of pain rushing up your legs, “Sorry.” Jonah mumbled before his warm hands started working on the buckle around your ankle. Jonah’s eyebrows knitted together, concentrating on the task at hand. 

You watched him, wondering what it’d feel like to rake a hand through those curls. What it’d feel like to read a book and have his head tuck safely in your lap. 

Unclasping the buckle he firmly gripped the back of your calf. His other hand on the bottom of the heel as he soft removed the death trap you called a shoe. Pulling the straps out of various wounds, opening the cuts. You seethed gripping the door frame of the jeep till your knuckled turned white. “Fuck. you’re bleeding. How did you manage to walk out of there without twisting your ankle?” He asks looking up at you, placing the heel on the floor of the vehicle. 

“Adrenaline and alcohol.” You say with a shrug. 

“That’s it.” 

“Yes.” 

He didn’t respond only stared at you for a little longer. Then his attention on the other cages foot, Doing the same. But this time he counted down from three before removing the shoe. Giving you time to mentally prepare yourself of the stinging yank. “There, your cute little toes are free, Although they’re sporting some nasty battle wounds.” Jonah smiled before standing up again, your feet feeling free and light as ever. 

“My hero, what would I do without you?” You asked mimicking a princess, not thinking. 

“No need to thank me m’lady it was all my pleasure.” Jonah plays along and bows to you in the process, you both burst into a fit of laughter. Enjoying the way they meld together perfectly. The laughing died out as your mind wandered off

Stop, don’t give in. Not to Jonah Marais. But this guy in front of you didn’t feel like that Jonah everybody knew. The one who go himself into heavy trouble giving him those brutal bruises you forgot about. The one who had everyone falling at his feet, the one who goes through them like it was a damn race. This kindness he was giving you was a trick. It had to be right?

“Let me help you out,” Jonah offers his hand out to you. Spotting gorgeous ink crawl up into his sleeve. You nod too sacred your mouth would betray you. Placing your hand in his, warm sensation worked it’s way up and you fought the urge to pull away. You grip stead in Jonah’s giving a small smile before you started to jump. 

Your feet never hit the cold paved ground, Jonah crouched capturing you in his arms. He groaned lightly as you screeched in his ear unaware of his devious plan. One arm against your back and another under you legs in a bridal style manor. He chuckled at the way you reacted to him, wide eyed as your heart thumped wildly in your chest. 

“If I told you, you would’ve bite my head off.” He explained himself, closing the jeep door with his back. With a loud honk, it locked. 

You only glared at him because he was right. You would’ve objected the idea of him carrying you inside. Would’ve risk infection then agree to be in his arms, especially with the intoxication. You didn’t trust yourself this close to him, where you breathe danced with his, where you could feel the steady beat of his heart. Where you could feel his words vibrate within his chest.

Walking inside you were memorised by the place, you could easily tell the theme was retro. The floors were tiled black and white like a chess board. Both the booths and chair were a pastel teal and pink. Down the aisle of the tables was a vintage jukebox, teal and pink neon lights ran along it. 

“Jonah my boy! Come in! Come in!” The words covered in a french accent. Behind the counter stood and older man, short and pudgy. Black hair with bits of grey sprinkling in, dark brown eyes resembled the earth. A bright smile towards the both of you. 

“Hello to you too Marcel.”  Jonah chuckles walking to the counter, 

Marcel’s smile became  brighter as he spots you in Jonah’s arms. Eye’s sparkling, “Oh who is this sweet thing? Must be your girlfriend.” It was more of a statement then a question, “No, Marcel this is y/n, she’s just a friend.” Jonah explained and you swore you could here the drop in his voice. 

Jonah Finally places you into a cotton candy booth. After shows you all the ice cream choices behind the glass casing. Ordering and catching up with Marcel which didn’t seem to be much as he seemed to come her often. Almost as if he knew the parlour like the back of his hand. 

The leather began to stick to the backs of your thighs, bare feet on the cool marble floor. You over hear Jonah asking for the first aid kit as you looked around the place a little more. Noticing a group of younger kids, laughing and leaning into each other, show each other videos from their phones. Probably fourteen or fifteenth. Another couple sat at a centre table, beautiful smiles as they talked. Must of been one of those deep conve- 

“Jesus Jonah!” You hiss at him, 

The sting ran up your nerves, scrunching up your face as you tried to yank your foot from his death grip. It only tightened making sure your foot didn’t slip. You wondered how he’d react if you kicked him with your free foot, on to his ass. 

His expression bored and slightly irritated, holding a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol above the cut. It gleamed bright red from the light above, vaguely cleaned. 

“Stop being a wuss and let me disinfect.”

“It fucking Burns Marais!”

“I know.”

“Give me some sympathy.” 

He sighs, placing a cotton ball down a small serving plate Marcel donated for the cause. Jonah reached into his back pocket, his eyes never straying from your. “Here.” He places a black bandanna that has seen better days then this in your hand. You grimace and look at him, “What’s this?” you mumble. He rolls his eyes at you, “Just bite down on it! It’ll help with the pain.And before you ask yes it’s clean.” 

You shrug, what did you have to lose? Folding the tattered fabric you did as told. you gave Jonah a thumbs up and an eager nod like you were ready for war. He shakes his head and chuckles, thinking you were the cutest thing this world had to offer. 

Did he always have a piece of material rotting in his butt pocket for situation like this? If so, where the hell was it ten minutes ago?

You whimper into the cloth. Feeling the burning returning as he began disinfecting your wounds again. He glanced up for a few seconds seeing he discomfort in your eyes. Then the focus back on your foot. 

You watched him. The way he took care of you within the last hour, you were surprised he was still single. He serenaded girls left and right with is band and his gentle touch. He never got to you, what was the point if it was just a night? what was the point if it didn’t turn into something more? Yet with all these thoughts you wanted him but you kept telling yourself no. Wha-

No. You blamed the thoughts on the alcohol still swimming in your system. 

By the time Jonah finished each cut and bandaged them, Marcel brought your ice cream cups. Sliding them across the table with an innocent smile, capturing yours you stared in awe at your favourite flavour. Confusion etched into your eyebrows though, the ice cream behind the glass was hard and this was soft ice cream. 

“Marcel mixes in a little bit of milk before blending it. And out comes this delicious soft ice cream.” Jonah moans sliding into the booth across from you. Mint chocolate chip ice cream already caught on the side on his lip. “Try it.” he pushes excitedly. 

You do, digging out a fair amount and capturing the spoon in your mouth. Jonah watches every muscle you make. The ice cream hits your tongue your taste buds exploding. It tasted like the feeling of hugging a puppy, like pure happiness. His green eyes brighten and a genuine smile spreads onto his lips. 

“This is absolutely amazing.” You beam, 

“My thoughts exactly.” Jonah shoves another spoon of ice past his lips. 

Jonah Marais

The radio played a gorgeous melody of Good Nights by Whethan. Hand full of gleaming rings tapped against the smooth steering wheel. Jonah hummed the lyrics thinking about sampling this song one day. Right hand curling on the gear shift, levelling the the clutch and the acceleration. His foot slips and drops the clutch causing the vehicle to jerk. 

It was an instinct when his head whipped to you with concern glinting in his eyes. But Jonah sighed in relief at the sight of you. Head rested on the window, legs tucked into your body tightly. Your eyes closed and lips slightly parted, letting snores escape. Smile spread on to his lips. You were asleep in his passenger window. 

Fuck you were asleep. How the hell was he going to get you through the corridors of your dorm? He didn’t feel comfortable going through your purse. Because if he did that would give you another reason not to trust him. Jonah couldn't risk that right now. The only choice was to bring you to his place. Not the fraternity, but his own personal space.  

There was minimal traffic at four in the morning, Jonah weaved through it with ease and got to his apartment quick. He collected you in his arms with ease as if you were the missing piece to his complicated puzzle. You never squirmed at Cheryl’s loud honk when she locked. 

Walking into his generous apartment he immediately shushed Sawyer, his three year-old Labrador. Nonetheless the asshole still managed to muster a bark, “Shut up, it’s me dingus.” Jonah whisper hissed at him, shaking his head at his dog before carrying you to his bedroom. Sawyer trailed with the light jingle of his collar and tag clashing together. 

Laying you down Jonah turned for his closet, walking in as he strip out of his gross clothing. He found a pair of sweats and pulled them on, letting them rest on his hips. Coming back into the room he was startled to see you siting up. Coddling Sawyers head in your thighs, massive smile on his lips as his tail wagged. 

“Hey,” Jonah greets, 

Y/n turned to him a sleepy smile on her lips and a dazed look in her eyes. Half asleep, she was still cute as ever. Sawyer must of had the dumb courage to wake her up with a kiss like she was Snow White 

“Have you meet Sawyer?” She asks, not realising that was his dog. 

“Yeah, he’s a good dog.” He lied. 

“Yes he is. Yes he is.” y/n speaks to sawyer in a baby voice, her attention on the dog again. Jonah laughs before turning back into the closet. He yanks one of his old band tees of the hanger, he smiles and shrugs. y/n can rep it for the night even if it was just in his apartment. 

“Put this on, I don’t think you want to sleeping in that dress,” Jonah Throws the shirt at y/n and it hits her right in the face. “Shit!” he mumbles resisting the urge to laugh and escapes the room before she had the chance to curse him. 

He digs up a blanket and a pillow from the hallway closet. Coming into the den he makes a makeshift bed on the soft leather couch. This would be the first time sleeping on them since he didn’t being girls to this apartment. It was his personal home, he didn’t want them poking around when they woke. Seeing parts of him nobody got to see. Y/n was different. Jonah honest didn't care if she saw or even took a souvenir on her way out. 

walking back to check on her, Jonah tapped two knuckles on the door frame. There was no answer so he waited, still no response. Assuming she fell back asleep he entered his bedroom and smiled, y/n cuddled into Sawyer like she was meant to be there. As if Jonah saw her every night in his bed and still got those butterflies.  

Small snores came both of them, their chests expanding with every breath. Walking in he spotting her green dress and bag a few inches away from the bed. First he morphed the dress in a ball and shot it into his hamper like a basket ball. Secondly he set her purse on the nightstand for her to find in the morning. He started for the door, but halted at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. 

“Jonah?” 

“Yes” His words were urgent as he whirled to face her. Face half tucking into sawyer’s back as sleep swam in her eyes like a pool. “Could you please stay with me till I fall asleep?” Her words held a form of desperation, he was utterly confused by it. Thee y/n was asking him, Jonah Marais who she wasn’t too fond of to sleep in bed with her? He had to be dreaming because she would never say that in the bright of day. Although she was half asleep in his bed and never questioned it. 

“I don’t know, you already have Sawyer.” He gives her time to reject him,

“Maybe it’s a little greedy, but I want both of you please? Just until I fall asleep and then you can leave.” She offers, but as soon as he’s beside her he knows he wont want to leave. 

“Y-yeah I guess I can do that.” he stammers on his words. 

“Thank you.” She mumbles with a small smile. 

Jonah nods not sure how to response to her, he circles the bed and climbs into the right side. Heart pounding against his rib cage. He glances over already seeing y/n on her side and one hand cradling her face. Jonah gets into the same position, close enough so that her breath hits his face.  

“What does it feel like to perform with the guys?” She asks a question Jonah never thought she cared about. 

“Ecstasy. Singing these lyrics and fingers dancing on the guitar. It just gives me adrenaline like nothing before. Like i’m on top of a mountain and there’s nothing I can’t do. Like searching for paradise and finally finding it. It feels like home, as if I meant to do this for the rest of my life.”  Y/n is quite watching the way Jonah beams talking about playing with his band. 

“That’s what painting feels like to me, or did.” She says into a yawn that made him chuckle. 

“You don’t paint anymore?” 

“Nah passions don’t pay the bills. It’s what my dad always said. So here I am trying my shot at the medical field, the family profession.” Y/n yawns again as he eyes begin to droop. 

“What’s the point if your hearts not in it?” He starts to pry, 

“Not all of use have trust founds, we have to work for it.” He voice sounding more tired by the second. 

“Your dad’s a plastic surgeon.” Jonah notes, blood boiling at this new information. 

“He worked for all of it and now so do I.” Her eyes fully closed, knowing she was about to pass out any minute now. 

“That’s...” He trailed off not knowing what to say to that, y/f/n was pushing her to become something she’s not. That sentence tasted metallic in his mouth, if y/n was his. He’d purchase an entire panting studio just for her and call it Jonah’s muse. because she indeed his muse, 

Light snores soon erupted in the air, looking over he couldn’t stop smiling at the sight. You looked younger when you slept, resembling an angel. No a goddess. You looked so fucking attractive with his band tee on. His face was technically on your body as well as the rest of his band mates. Jonah would still take that as a win. 

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

Y/n

The afternoon sun woke you up, warmth spreading along your body. Eyes still fluttered closed you roll over bumping into warm flesh. Your brain gives you a few seconds to bask in the warmth of Jonah. Then it clicks. There’s a body in your bed, recoiling at lighten speed you hit the floor. Pain sparks through your tail bone and a delicate headache pounds into your skull. 

Sitting on the floor of a foreign room you begin to remember last night.  The party. Ivette handing you off to Jonah at said party, well Daniel did. Jonah driving you home, scratch that to an ice cream parlour. His gentle hands tending to high heel wounds. Devouring the most amazing ice cream. Jonah driving you home. That’s it that’s all you remember, it doesn't explain how you got here. 

Looking around frantically you caught sight of a dog you’ve never seen before. Watching you at the foot of the massive bed covered in black silk sheets. Two doors, one and exit to the hallway. The other was most likely a closet with piles of clothes spilling out. Large windows lined the room and a glass desk resting at the best view.  

Heart missing a beat as you helped yourself off the floor.Taking cautious steps to the bed, spotting Jonah sleeping peaceful. On his back with sprawled out arms. Beautiful ink scattered along his right arm and the left side of his chest. Soft features as the sun engulfed him in the glorious light. It’d take no effort to crawl back into his bed. Rest your head onto his chest and listen to his heart beat. 

You couldn’t. 

You flee taking your purse with you on the way out. Unlocking the door and taking the elevator down. Struggling you fetch your phone out, praying that it still had life left to live and call Ivette. Wasn’t till this moment you realise you only had on a t-shirt. It was most definitely Jonah’s, massive fit reaching the mid of your thighs. Oh and let’s not forget the fact that it had his entire band on it. 

The phone barely rang twice when Ivette picks up. “I need you to pick me up, like five minutes ago. Jonah took me to this ice cream parlour last night and next think I know I’m waking up in his bed. I don’t know where my dress is.” You rush your words out in a panic. 

The elevator dings, you dash out getting a weird look from the door man. Stopping in your tracks with a modified expression on your face. you just walked out into the busiest street downtown. Not only were you wearing an oversized band t-shirt, no it wouldn’t stop there. You were also Bare. Foot. 

“That doesn’t make sense Jonah never came home last night,” She says tiredly on the other line. Still waking up in Daniel’s bed, not a surprise there. 

“His apartment! I’m pretty sure I know what Jonah looks like. He had a golden Labrador ring a bell?You got me into this mess, now get me out.” You looked like a whining toddler, mind splattering as you complained to her. 

“A Labrador? Did you take something? Send me your fucking location.” That was Ivette’s mom voice, which totally meant she was going to curse your ass as soon as you got in the car.

“Sawyer.” a hushed male voice said in the background. there was a rustle on the other line. Ivette covered the mic, but you could still here them. 

“What?” 

“Jonah’s dog. He probably took her to his personal apartment.” 

“I thought he lives here with you guys.” 

“He does sometimes, but he mostly lives there. That’s beside the point, I know where it is.” A few more words are shared before the ruffle is back. She uncovered the mic. 

“Daniel knows where you are, we’ll be  there in thirsty. Stay put and don’t take anything else.” Ivette explains as if you didn’t here every word they spoke.

“I didn’t take anything.” Before the words are heard Ivette hangs up and cuts the line without saying goodbye.

Roughly forty minutes later Ivette’s range rover pulls to the crib so fast the rims almost kissed it.“Finally.” you mumbled to yourself, it’d probably would’ve been faster if you hailed a cab. But the bill would’ve been brutal. 

The passenger window rolls down uncovering Ivette giving you a knowing smirk. Daniel gives a small wave from the driver’ seat, you flash him an irritated smile. His blue eyes almost pop out of their sockets before he’s attention is on the road. 

“I really love the dress, every iconic. Don’t you think Daniel?” Ivette’s voice is teasing and sickly sweet. 

“ Yeah. Those shirts were a demo, test run for real merch. It never got launched so only we have those shirts.” Daniel Pipes in looking at the fabric that clothed your body. 

“Not only did Jonah take you to his apartment but he gave you his prised possession,” Ivette continues the teasing know that it got under you skin.

“Shut up.” You say sharply, annoyed on how long they took to pick you up. Should ran upstairs and woke Jonah up. 

“What can’t take the teasing?” Ivette asks as you climb into the back seat. The scent of sweet cherry enters your nose as the leather circles around your body. 

“Not when I woke to Jonah and Daniel taking forty minutes to get here!” You spit, the anger eating you alive. You stare at the back of his head and shoot daggers at him. Brunette roots starting to grown under his bleached blonde hair.

“They also have our last name and birth year on the back.” His words sound forced as he tried to fill the tense air. You shake your head and scoff. “Of course they fucking do. It’s almost like having a hickey on my neck shouting to the world I belong to someone. This is worse because everybody on campus knows who Jonah Marais is!” They go quiet and you begin stare out the window done with your little rant.

Daniel presses on the gas abruptly causing the vehicle to speed forward. Your back hits the seat with the impact. He goes through traffic like this is some NASCAR championship. You begin to wonder how the shirt got on your body. You were going kill him you just didn’t know how yet. 

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

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the second part of That One. 

Which was your favourite part?

Don’t be afraid to message me if anything offended you with my POC characters. This is a safe space for everyone and I want to make it right!

Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx

[saiilorstars]

Right to Survive

Fandom: Batwoman Characters: Alice, Original Female Character Warnings: A few curse words and a bullet shot!

// Masterlist of my other stories //

A/N: I honestly have no idea where this came from but I just wanted someone to be on Alice's side, so...here we are! And let’s just say that the OC looks like Karen Gillan right now okay)

Summary: Rosalind "Dawne" Coleman was dying last time she remembered, but now she finds herself in the world of Batwoman where she now has to survive Alice's plans for Gotham City. 

She was running for her life. That's usually how it went. She could hear the men screaming for her to stop. As if��she would do them that favor.

She blew on the pieces of hair that kept falling over her face. Perhaps she could do with a haircut soon. Or maybe you could just stop stealing from people. She smirked. Another as if.

If she stopped stealing, then how would she eat? How would she survive? No, see, the world couldn't be that unfair with her. It was her right to survive.

So, she continued to run.

Her legs already knew the drill. She made a quick swerve into the next street, running past people on the sidewalk minding their businesses. She had no problem pushing her way through, ignoring the strangers' protests. Okay, maybe she laughed a little.

"STOP HER!"

Laugh time was over, fast time was now!

Her breath was heavy but her endurance was great. She'd been doing this her entire 22 years, after all. Nothing could stop - THUD!

Her back had hit the ground too hard that she actually felt the reverberation from the blow. Wait, it wasn't the ground that made that noise in her ears. The ringing had to be from something else.

"Well, well, well," she heard a man's voice, although it sounded a bit distorted.

She tried getting up but there was a terrible pain in her chest. Her hand reached over her chest and felt a pool of liquid. She'd been shot. That was the ringing noise left in her ears.

"Well Rosalind," the man's voice was closer now. "I bet you're regretting taking the bosses' jewel, huh?"

Rosalind blinked rapidly in hopes of clearing up her vision a bit. Her lips curved into a crooked smile. "Rosalind Coleman never regrets. I'd steal that thing...all over again." She inhaled sharply but when she did she felt the pain of the bullet spreading throughout her body. "You know how much money people...are willing to pay for that...thing?"

The man bent down beside her, smiling too smugly for Rosalind to believe she'd make it out alive. "Then you should've been smarter in how you do business. I wouldn't have gotten caught." He carelessly threw her arms to her sides and opened up her jacket. His hand searched her inside pockets until he found what he was looking for. "And I won't," he smirked once he had the purple stone in his hand. "I can't believe you sold the jewel, dear Rose." He would be taking her money and she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

"Screw...you..." she managed to glare at him.

"Thank you," the man dramatically bowed and stuffed the stone into his pant's pocket. "I think I'll let you die slowly and alone for kicks. Make it look like the buying went wrong. Until next time - er, next life, I guess."

Rosalind couldn't see him leave anymore. Her vision was too blurry to make out anything by now. She could try to move but where exactly would she drag herself to? A hospital? As soon as she stepped foot in there - assuming she would even be able to stand - the cops would be on her ass. Her rap sheet was too big to ignore.

It was her right to survive but it seemed like her life was finally up.

As Rosalind felt her life slowly slip away, she could swear that she felt the ground shaking. She could think it was just her body perhaps convulsing but...she was pretty sure she was hearing the cement cracking too. She blinked fast again and for the few seconds that she could see, she saw a fiery orange wave coming from ahead. People were screaming and in panic, much too panicked to take notice of the dying woman on the ground.

Rosalind swallowed hard and tried to move, shift on one side, but she yelped in pain. "It's my right to survive!" she exclaimed, but her body gave out and she dropped on her back again.

It was too unfair to die like this. Things had never gone as planned for her, ever since she was a child - since she was born - so how could she be dying now?

Her eyes closed before she could come up with an answer.

The orange wave was coming for her, coming for everyone in its path. However, before it reached Rosalind something else gobbled her up. One of the cracks in the cement next to her had opened wider than the others on the ground. A bright white light struck up into the sky, expanding in that area until it reached Rosalind's body. Tendrils of white wrapped around her body until she was completely gone.

And then the orange wave took care of the rest of the world.

~ 0 ~

Rosalind felt cold prickling her face. Her face scrunched and before she knew it, her hands reached to her cheeks. Once she realized what she did, her eyes snapped open and she saw a dark sky.

"What...?" her hands went to her chest but she felt no blood, no pain. She raised her head the necessary to see with her eyes - because even her vision was clear now - and she was stunned to see nothing but her striped shirt without a bullet hole.

She'd been dying, she'd been really dying. She couldn't have made a mistake like that.

She sat upright and let her hands roam her body to make sure she was actually awake and not dreaming. One of her hands checked her jacket's inside pockets and to her dismay she found they were empty. Her stone was gone.

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned. She pushed herself up and started looking around.

It was a regular street with regular people and regular cars and whatnot. Where was the mass panic she'd heard before...before she'd closed her eyes. Did I even die, then? Or is this what the afterlife is like? She walked a couple steps towards the road and couldn't see anything that looked familiar to her.

In her growing panic that she really was in the afterlife, her hand seized to grab the nearest stranger on the street. "What city is this!?"

The stranger, a woman with terrified blue eyes, pried Rosalind's hand off her arm. "G-Gotham City."

Rosalind's face scrunched in confusion. "Excuse me? Isn't that the place where Batman lives or something?"

The woman nodded her head shakily. "Yes. And Batwoman so don't try anything."

"The hell are you talking about?" Rosalind snapped. "It's a fictional city! You know, from the stupid comics?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about but you need to leave me alone!" the woman made a hasty getaway.

"Hey lady! Come back! I'm not done asking questions!" Rosalind was left shouting in her spot. "Gotham City," she repeated, rolling her eyes. "Give me a break." Some people were just too into their comic books to know where reality began.

She turned in the opposite direction and began to walk.

So if she wasn't in her city, Los Angeles, where the hell was she? And how was she supposed to make sense out of the fact she'd been shot and close to dying? Or the fact her stone was gone from her pocket? None of it made sense.

Maybe I just hit my head hard or something, she reasoned for the tenth time in two blocks. Something happened but she couldn't figure out what.

'In the latest news, Batwoman just finished saving an entire family from a burning car crash...'

Rosalind stopped walking. Her eyes flickered in the direction the newscast was broadcasting from.

'The family is reported to have suffered only minor injuries. Had it not been for Batwoman's interference, those injuries could've been more, including death!'

Rosalind turned her entire body towards the street pole that had a screen broadcasting such news. She hurried up to it in time to see Batwoman herself in the act of saving the family. "What the...?" Rosalind's eyes were wide as could be.

Batwoman was real. She was actually fucking real.

"N-n-n-n-n-no, that's not possible," Rosalind shook her head, letting her ginger curls once again fall over her front shoulders. "This is...this is not possible." Last time she heard that woman was a character in a comic book and, lately, a series. "This is not real! You can't be real!" she yelled at the screen. "None of this-" she turned around, hands bunched in her hair, "-is real! You're all fake!"

"Well," went a female voice Rosalind didn't know, "You're right about that part. This city and its elite are all fake."

Rosalind met the woman's face and felt her blood run cold. Maybe it was a little bit real.

The woman was tall and had short, wavy blonde hair that almost seemed platinum. Her blue eyes were cold and intense, but her smile was delirious. Of course her odd choice of fashion could rival the delirious smile.

"But you-" the woman suddenly had a pocket knife pointed at Rosalind's face, almost touching her nose, "-aren't. In fact, Rosa, as far as I've heard...you're the go-to-girl when someone needs a jewel."

Rosalind's eyes seemed cross when she looked at the knife now poking her nose. "Um...who said that...?"

"I'd steal it myself but I have more pressing matters and even though I'm that good, I can't be in two places at once," the woman's delirious smile widened.

Rosalind's eyes finally met the woman's again. "You're not...you're not actually..." she swallowed hard, "Please, for the love of God, tell me you're not Alice?"

The woman stepped back and dramatically bowed with her knife in hand. "How do you do?"

Rosalind actually whimpered. Her head turned to the screen on the pole where they were still broadcasting Batwoman's save. It was real?

"I'm not...I'm not Rosa," she began to say. "I'm not...whoever you think I am. I'm just a very confused woman who has no idea how this all possible!"

Alice straightened up on her feet, eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Rosalind from head to toe. And suddenly, her hand struck across Rosalind's face, knocking the woman to the ground. Before Rosalind could even move, Alice had one of her combat boots over her chest and the knife brandished towards her. "If you're not Rosa then I guess there's no use for you...which means..." she wiggled one of her laced, finger-less gloved hands at Rosalind.

"W-w-w-w-w-wait!" Rosalind shouted just as Alice's hand swooped to stab her. "I'm not 'Rosa' but I am useful!"

She was choosing to pretend that this entire thing was real; that Gotham City was real, that Batwoman was real, that the crazy Alice was real too.

Alice didn't remove her boot from Rosalind's chest, nor the knife that was midway to Rosalind's face, but she tilted her head and waited for Rosalind to explain herself.

Rosalind swallowed hard again. She knew that this character - this person - was a force to be reckoned with. She was crazy and intelligent, a deadly combination. The good thing was that Rosalind herself had a bit of crazy in her and lots of smarts. She wasn't a stranger to the dark side.

"I-I know my way around thievery," Rosalind found her voice a few seconds later. "I've stolen things no one else can. I'm not...I'm not the person you were looking for."

"You look just like her," Alice's icy eyes looked Rosalind over two times before stopping at her eyes.

"But I'm not her, I swear," Rosalind raised her hands in defense. "I'm...someone else. Call me...call me...Dawne."

"Dawne?"

"Yeah, you know, like the sun's about to set and stuff...?" Rosalind never liked her first name, it sounded too soft for who she was. Her middle name was a lot better. Dawne. Mysterious and elegant. "I'm Dawne and whatever you need, I can get. Just don't kill me."

Alice licked her lips and looked to the side while she presumably thought about it. Rosalind's eyes were glued to the knife in Alice's hand that was twirling and twirling...deciding her fate.

It was her right to survive. She'd already survived whatever the hell happened to her earlier, she could survive this too.

After what seemed forever, Alice finally withdrew her boot from Rosalind's chest and put her knife away. "Alright, Dawne, let's get to business."

Dawne Coleman would rise and leave behind Rosalind if that meant surviving in this...new world she'd somehow gotten into.

[ikonislife]

Drabble #14

-Taehyung x female reader

- “are you really willing to let me sleep with someone else?”

You like to pretend that your marriage was the poster child of all marriages, and as you strut through your husband’s company, a bright, proud smile on your lips, it sure feels like it. Yet the second the lingering bows of his workers were hidden behind the closing door of the elevator, a heavy sigh rips through your façade. Reality was so far off from this portrait you had painted for the world, for his friends, and his family to see that just a mere walk to his office left you drained. The endless small fights had finally devolved into one that even sex couldn’t recover, one that had the thought of a divorce lingering in both your mind as you cuddled up in bed. Playing the perfect wife had never been hard, especially when you’re married to Kim Taehyung. He was the man everyone wanted, the man everyone sought after, and the man that chose to chase after you instead. Despite the coldness in his eyes and the fearsome reputation in the business, Taehyung was nothing more than a puppy behind closed door. With you he could be as fucking silly as he wanted and not word of judgement would fall from your lips. He could be an absolute child when you had stopped him from putting an entire jar worth of jam on his sandwich, then a merciless fucking sex god mere hours later trying to experiment with shoving things up your ass, up his ass too for all that matter. Never once did you complain nor pass prejudice because you love that about him. The insane ride this man had taken you on for the past 4 years of marriage and the 3 years of dating before that had been an experience you were damn sure you could never get with anyone else. You’ve been through his best, his worst, but never fucking like this. Anger wasn’t a term anymore for the darkness in his eyes and the way his jaws clenched up in fury, it was so much more than anything else in the world. That sadistic version of him had called out to a version of you that you didn’t even realized exist, one that you weren’t particularly proud of. One that instead of signing up for marriage counseling, had signed up for a fucking cruise trip. One that had burned through nearly a figure some would only dare dream of on a shopping trip. Yet at the end of the day, all the glitz and glamour of diamond and new dress couldn’t sooth the aching of your heart. So, you both yelled and screamed at each other, he threw money, threw purses and cars at you, while you threw sex, threw scheme to rile the jealousy out of him, but nothing could appease the emptiness of your souls. Exhausted and worn, you both sat down and decided on one last Hail Mary before throwing in the towel. So here you are, pretending as if the last few days hadn’t been a lie. That the forced passion and lingering kisses weren’t the last attempt of reviving the old you and him of the past. That you had fucked each other out of love, rather than the contemptuous hatred of what the other person had become. That you’re simply coming to have lunch with your husband because you had missed him dearly in the few hours since he left for work. “Fake it until we make it” as he had so adamantly insisted. You try to stay out of his work, you really do but as you pass the empty desk of his assistant, once more the thought of pushing him to fire her ass begins to swirl around your mind. You’ve never care for the way she flaunts her “God given goods” as she had so sickly put it as if you couldn’t spot a nose job or fake tits from a mile away. Though hadn’t done so yourself, you’ve never had a problem with enhanced-beauty. What you do have a problem with was acting as if it was something shameful, something horrible. Though perhaps caring a bit more in the way she flaunts herself in front of your husband, you trust him and honestly, if he was to fall for someone new, there would be absolutely nothing you could do about it so why even fight the inevitable. You stand there for a second, letting the thought of the girl passing through your mind before letting your hand wraps around the door knob. The sight and sound appearing behind the receding door admittedly knock the wind out of you, but strangely enough, the first thought had been you should’ve definitely knock, even if this was your husband’s office and you had all the right in the world to be here… In fact, he had asked you to be here. “What in the fucking fresh hell do you think you’re doing?” That harsh tone and the raspy voice, you wouldn’t misplace Taehyung’s voice even if you had all your senses taken away. He’s angry, you’ve definitely learned how that sound by now. Your heart lurch at the sentence, confusing mixing so perfectly with fear reverberating through your body before the sight beholding leaves you empty. There your husband sits in his throne as always, his witch of an assistant leaning over his chair with her top unbutton nearly the entire way. She has her hand over his, pressing it tightly against his chest with a devilish smile tugging at her bold red lips. “Sorry, I should’ve knock.” You didn’t know what had overcame your senses but an apology already falling from your lips even before you could process what was even happening. You should’ve been angry, pull her wig off and rip her face apart yet nothing… Absolutely nothing as your volcano of anger lay dormant in your heart. You back away from the door, letting it shuts behind your retreating body as tears run down your cheeks. Uselessness, worthlessness, those words beating at your heart and tearing your soul. Your footsteps hasten, nearly running now as you round the corner for the staircase despite your husband’s office residing impressively atop a 17 floors building. Broken legs and spent knees would be so much better than letting the world seeing your façade crumbling. Yet before you could even make it pass a single floor, a large hand wrapped around your shoulder, yanking you back with all the vigor of a distraught husband watching his wife cry. Taehyung endured a lot these past few months, partly because he knows his list of things you had to endured is probably much longer… Mostly because he knows somewhere under this defensive spoiled brat persona you had put up, the sweet girl he fell in love with was hiding. But he wasn’t about to stand there and watch you cry one more time out of a stupid misunderstanding. “Honey, it wasn’t what you think…” He rushes out, never before had fear tear at his heart like this very moment feeling you stilling under his hold. “I know…” You sigh simply, letting your sweat soaked forehead resting against his toned pecs. “I know…” “She, one second we were talking about daily duty, the next I don’t even know why, what happened, but I swear to God, I stopped her.” Words frantic, the thought of you knowing exactly what was going on yet instead of screaming, throwing a tantrum like you had when he had forgotten your anniversary, you just backed away and apologized. “Wait, Y/n, why aren’t you angry?” For the first time in weeks Taehyung finally look at you… Not just look but he sees you, sees the tiredness in your eyes and sorrow at the small frown tugging at your soft lips. He could see how broken you are, and it hits him, your anger, the fits, they were all to hide how you truly feel. “I-“ No word, not a single word could escape your lips, not with the way your husband was staring at you. “Did- Did you, are you really willing to let me sleep with someone else?” That sentence sounds as preposterous as it did when the thought first formed in his mind. “If that makes you happy…” Like a broken damn, tears once more streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably as the sentence timidly, unwillingly leaving your lips. “Baby, why on Earth would you think such a thing?” There’s no describing the shock, pain rippling through his features as he watches you submitting to a fate, he would never seal for you. When and how had he gone so wrong that he had made you think letting him sleep with other women was the only solution, that you were willing to accept such a painful life. “I had not and will not touch another woman for as long as you want to be with me, even long after you’re done with me. What make you think that forcing yourself to be okay with me sleeping around would be a good idea? Honey?!” He exasperates because that was the only way this insane thought could’ve, no, this insane thought will never make a lick of sense in his mind. “Because I can’t make you happy anymore… I realized I’m not enough and, if I can look pass-“ The words left choking in your throat when Taehyung let his lips crashing against yours in a kiss of fury, kiss of passion, of love, of anger, you couldn’t tell any longer. Because for the first time in weeks, your kiss means something. “Don’t ever think that you’re not enough for me. I know we haven’t exactly had the best months, hell, even year, but I want no one else but you.” He sighs, gripping harshly at the fabric of your dress, only realizing now just how dolled up you are, all because he had asked to have lunch. “Even if it had gotten to that point, why wouldn’t you just divorce my sorry ass. Why put yourself through so much pain?” “Because I love you… And I don’t think I’m ready to let go yet.” At the small confession muffled out from the part of his chest you’ve made a home of, Taehyung lets out a big sigh, his brain yet to recover from the unravelling mess you’ve both gotten in. “I know I’m not the best husband, far from it in fact. But I will never put you through that pain, I need you to understand that. I love you, and that’s a fact. No fight, no angry word could ever stain or change that.” Hand carding through your windblown locks, Taehyung lets kisses rain down upon your skin, lingering when his lips met yours. He kisses you until there was nothing else but you and him left in this world and suddenly he was that shy 18 years old boy pinning after you, wondering if he’ll ever get a chance to kiss you. Yet here you are, in his arms, letting him work you into a stupor with his kisses… His wife. All the memories of the past, all the feeling pent up, all the happiness missing from your life come rushing back. Work forgotten and the unsavoriness of recent event gone, he leads you back to his office, packs up his things before declaring that he’d be out of office for the next week. You didn’t know where this week of free time would lead your little family, but one thing for sure, you both were finally heading down the road of healing.

[philiie]

Interactive Introverts London highlights

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD PROCEED AT YOUR OWN PERIL

This is also the most extra shit like I spent hours writing everything up lol

Go check out @danfanciesphil post here of the Brighton show which inspired me to do this :))

- When they first came it was the coolest thing ever. They were standing on the podium thing and the screen at the back lifted to reveal them in a cloud of smoke and they were silhouettes until the spotlight shined on them. Holy shit it was the best thing ever it doesn't even seem real.

- They were quite close to their apartment as well so Phil said they were considering bringing their sofa and "sitting in our browsing position".

- Dan mentioned how Phil's old videos from 2008 were very different from now (lots of audience approval) and how they were kind of really creepy and weird and honesty it probably isn't a good thing (I disagree but sure whatever). Phil talked about 'snokoplasm' and how it was literally just him rubbing slime over himself shirtless pretending to be futuristic (lots of audience approval for that lol) but he doesn't make videos like that anymore because he wants to make things that are actually entertaining and things he WANTS to make.

- Montage of everything they aren't gonna do in the show just so our expectations are levelled.

- They went backstage to get a silver box (Dan literally Naruto ran for no apparent reason) from which they were acting out the things using props from it in the centre while a voice narrated. In between each one the lights went darker so you could only see their silhouettes as they grabbed props. It was all very pantomime like which was really cool and theatrical.

- The things included: 24 hour livestream of them doing domestic home things (recording of dan on the toilet and Phil munching on crunchy nut appeared on the screen lmao), Erotic roleplay (Phil was in a policeman hat and had a baton thing while dan was in handcuffs. The recording of dan saying please be gentle, I have sensitive skin played), Stripping on stage... they started acting like they were going to actually take their tops off and they actually ripped them off to reveal an exact copy of the top underneath except Phil was now in a half sleeved shirt instead of full sleeved (I now understand Louise's joke)

- Phil stumbled and almost tripped on the step when going into the centre and was like "I almost forgot there was a step there" and was walking really strangely into the middle like elongating his legs after every time he lifted them and Dan made fun of it being like who tf walks like that. "Does anyone ever feel like Phil is actually an alien learning how humans work?" Later on in the show Phil says something about removing his lizard face and Dan says THAT would explain the weird walking. He also imitates Phil going up into the centre and says "I'm doing a Phil walk" v v cute :))

- For the Dan vs Phil segment they talked about the electric shock machines and for each round the pointer moved up one level of electric shock. The first time it moved into the yellow area and Phil said "Finger in the yellow" which elicited a massive audience reaction and dan stopped and was like oh god and Phil was giggling in his 'oops shouldn't have said that' way, somehow he made that adorable.

- The first round was seeing how well they know each other and Dan made the comment saying "don't worry guys I'm Phil trash #1 and all"

- Phil's question was: What did Dan swap alcohol with in ISG10?

Phil answered green tea correctly but the electric shock sound effect came up anyways. Dan was like no you answered that correctly it should have been a ding but the ding didn't come up anyways (lol tech crew nice one)

- Dan expressed extreme discomfort with 'x rated lester' "in any interpretation"

- Dan's bad thing was 'spoilers' and he tried to say that it's better to not be surprised. (I'm pretty sure this is the bit where he said "otherwise I'd be like 'Phil... Phil I don't feel so good'" reaching his arm out to him (infinity war reference for those who don't know,,, I could have killed him in that moment can he not) "Too soon? Yeah probably too soon."

- Phil's good thing that he had to make bad "getting unlimited money" Dan found that hilarious. His way of making it bad was that it gives you too much power- he would strap two planes together and stand on top of and ride them which would probably make them explode.

- They used the Isle of Man pic of Dan for the Dan, Phil or a rat segment (you guys know the one where he's smiling super happy) that just made me feel very warm :)

- The picture for Dan was just a really pale cream colour and Dan made the joke that it might be translucent enough to be Phil's skin but he said no I bet it's a troll and guessed rat. Turns out Dan was right and it actually was Phil's skin lmao from the picture of Phil with the silver hair dye.

- When Dan got electrocuted he fully hit his shin on one of the benches and basically died on stage. He fully snorted and turned away in shame and pain and it was the most hilarious thing ever. "Who designed this stupid set" LMAO

- Phil asks us to clap on the count of 3 after which some people immediately clap and Dan's like omg no on the count of 3. But then people start clapping for the people that clapped "are you seriously clapping for the people that just clapped" and then basically everyone started clapping and oh my gosh it was the best moment ever I've never felt more collectively part of something in that moment it was so funny and Dan looked so done with us all. A great moment.

- Someone asked in the getting deep part that there's a guy she likes but all she does is makes vine references. Phil's response to that is if he doesn't appreciate your vine references he's not worth it. Dan: "there's your dating advice from Phil"

- Phil was cleaning in 'Dan's' room (dan says "like you've ever done a chore") Phil's indignantly says he vacuums doing the hand movement. Apparently he found 'something weird' under 'Dan's' bed so he brought out a silver box that was locked saying it was heavy and handed it to Dan. [yes I'm putting that all in quotation marks fight me]

- He wanted the audience to guess what they thought was inside the box and the things that people said were: A single piece of Phil's hair, A fursuit and a Dildo(ll) rip they kept emphasising DOLL it was too funny nice one whoever that was lmao

- Phil was asking the audience if anyone had a key to open the box and Nora (what a legend) threw some plastic keys onto the stage and Phil fully tried to unlock the box using them lmao what a cutie. When Dan came back with the actual key Phil was like someone had plastic keys and dan was like wtf it was too funny.

- Do you really know Dan and Phil? 1% of people said 'who are Dan and Phil?' Lol they wouldn't stop bringing that up. 47% (?) of people said they don't really know Dan and Phil and Dan was like wow Phil why are you so shady? (He said this twice in the show when addressing the idea that their personalities are different online)

- They did a pie chart to show fave video series which apparently they were really excited about seeing as they hyped that up for a solid 2 minutes,,, "90% of the budget of the show was for this pie chart"

- Dan got sacrificed attached to the wheel of death comes out yelling with no warning so everyone is just screaming because it was so unexpected so i couldn't actually hear anything he said but the basic gist of it was fuck you all lmao.

- When Phil tried hitting him with a slinky it was a couple inches away from "the danger zone" I.e. Dan's crotch. Phil repeats the phrase danger zone two more times after that lmao.

- Dan says "almost hit my balls" w o w.

- The last time is some massive intense bazooka that Phil started stroking and then dan was like "stop stroking it- especially with those gloves on".

- Phil hits him the last time with the bazooka literally almost at his crotch and Dan screams. They say how it's all our fault and that we should feel bad. Phil is like "I don't think they feel guilty" lol I mean he's not wrong

- At the end dan was like "Phil help unstrap me" clearly looking for Phil to unstrap him around the waist but Phil went for his feet instead lmao (Dan just wanted a reaction from us Phil lmao well done). Phil finally got the memo though and helped and then dan stumbled out being like okay get away from me don't touch me and Phil just giggled.

- The white protection suit lab coat thing got stuck on dans shoe so he was hopping around and Phil was like do you need a hand there and Dan said "no Phil I don't need your help to get me undressed" and everyone screamed and Dan was like okay okay shut up (idk if that was an intentional line or not I couldn't actually tell but... nice)

- Phil's diss track happened and if you're reading this you've probably seen a transcript of it already but damn hearing him say bitch live was the best thing ever lmao. Also when he said the line about not wanting to get demonetised he did the making it rain hand gesture (thanks anon) which was hilarious

- There was a point where Dan was like no Phil you can't swear on stage and Phil was like aw why not I wanted to say "what the (fuck)" mouthing it and that's more than I could have ever hoped for

- They did the song and it was v cute and got stuck in my head. When Phil got up and sat on the piano he was swaying one leg back and forth and it was adorable.

- They ended the show bowing and went back behind the black screen that they came out from and were waving the whole way through and Phil was bending down to wave as the screen was going down and it was v lovely :))

And then I died the end.

[kee-writestrashh]

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary:  You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

**this is a very rough chapter

song

Chapter 48: Souvenirs

If your heart could of shattered like glass it would have been then.

To see Ramsay hurting. It was like torture. He was emotionless. But right this second... maybe it was because he had been so mentally stable the last couple of weeks, or maybe it was because deep down, somewhere in him he actually had many feelings. He and Damon had been so close recently.

You weren't sure what to do as you stood there watching Ben help carry Matt to another room and heard Alyn's screams grow more consistent.

"Does... Does Charlotte know?" You asked, trying your best to hold your voice even as your bottom lip trembled.

Ramsay gave a shrug and turned his back to you.

If only you could feel what he was feeling so you could help him. You were afraid to even open your mouth. But you were afraid for him.

"Please don't turn away from me baby. I'm here." You said gently, placing your hand on his shoulder.

He turned back to you. And you saw it. The rage was boiling. You could see it in his eyes. You could see it in the way the muscle in his jaw ticked.

The straw that broke the camel's back.

"Rams, I am so sorry. Let's go fix your leg and I'll find you some alcohol, and you can tell me what happened if it would help."

"Will it bring back, Dame?" He finally asked through clenched teeth.

"Well, no baby. You know that. But it might make it hurt less." You said quietly, taking his hand in yours.

He yanked his hand back as though you had shocked him and glared at you.

"I'm not hurt. This doesn't hurt." He hissed, fist tightening.

You dropped your eyes, "of course, baby. I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." but you weren't able to finish as the door opened with a deafening bang.

"WHERE IS HE?! WHERE IS DAMON? WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?" Charlotte shrieked, looking mad with grief.

Ramsay crossed the room in silence, grabbed up a bag, and dropped it at the woman's feet. It was full of cash. He then pulled a gun from his wait and held it out to her. Damon's gun.

"Go home, Charlotte. Go back to wherever you came from. For the respect I had for Damon, you are free. Take the money and leave." Ramsay said.

Charlotte shook her head furiously, like it would make it untrue. Like this was all a bad joke. The tears soaked her face with in a matter of seconds as she stared down at the gun Ramsay held out.

"No. No, you're a liar. Not my Damon. No." She sobbed, backing away from Ramsay.

"Take the money and go. Leave. Tonight. You're free." Ramsay said, clenching his jaw again.

"This is your fault! This is all your fucking fault! My husband is dead because you are a fucking psychotic bastard who doesn't know when to quit!" She screamed.

You saw it happen before it happened. Ramsay lost it, pulling his own gun and pulling the trigger. As he dropped his hand the bullet buried itself in Charlotte's chest.

"Ramsay!" You screeched, watching the woman's body crumple to the ground. "Ramsay! How could you? She didn't mean it! She was upset! She was my friend!" You cried, tears blurring your vision.

You made to step forward but stopped just as suddenly as you came face to face with the end of Ramsay's gun.

"Move and I will. I swear to god I will." He growled.

You swallowed the hot bile creeping up your throat and trembled with a whimper.

"Whoa! What the fuck?!" Ben called in a panicky voice, tackling Ramsay to the ground.

"Get off of me, you fucking cunt!" Ramsay raged, throwing fists.

Ben grunted in discomfort but threw punches back, grabbing Ramsay by the front of his shirt and shaking him furiously.

"What the fuck are you doing? Is this what Damon would want?" Ben bellowed, hitting Ramsay around the face.

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? He's fucking dead!" Ramsay yelled back, trying to free himself from Ben's hold.

You watched in fear, watching the two men fight and struggle with one another. Like watching bears fight to the death. The rage between them both was frightening as the floor beneath you shook with the force of each blow.

"Rams. Calm down, man. Please. I will knock your ass out." Ben wheezed, bleeding freely from his nose, tiring from the violent tussle.

Finally, Ramsay quit struggling and went limp on the floor.

"You good? Can I let you go?" Ben asked through his heavy breathing.

"Whatever." Ramsay sighed bitterly.

You realized you had been holding your breath watching the two fight. You drew a deep breath, getting dizzy, swaying on the spot. Olyvar caught you and helped you to your knees before you had fallen.

"(Y/n), I will be back. I'm going to go see what I can find out." He whispered urgently, looking overly panicked and pale. You had forgotten he was even there with you. You just gave a small nod.

Ramsay rolled onto his hands and knees, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor. He took a deep breath, sitting up on his knees. He wiped his bloodied lip on the back of his hand and slowly rose to his feet, stumbling slightly as he put weight on his injured leg.

He turned to you and you dropped your head, heaving a dry sob, closing your eyes tight. But he said nothing to you as he walked past you to a table. You chanced a glance and watched him grab a chair, yelling in rage as he smashed the chair against the wall.

"(Y/n), come on. Up ya get. The couch is more comfortable than the floor." Ben said quietly, grabbing you under the arms and lifting you easily enough.

"Liz! Kaden!" You said in panic, as Ben sat you on the tiny couch.

"Are hidden and safe." He said, giving you a nod and turning his gaze to Ramsay who shouted and broke everything in his destructive path.

Time seemed to go in slow motion as you watched men coming and going, as Ramsay shouted at them and threatened them. You realized that Yellow Dick was not among the faces of men. Perhaps he was dead too.

Ramsay's rage was unlike anything you could of imagined as he roared like a wounded beast fighting for its life and continued to break things and releasing clip after clip into a wall.

It wasn't until he was stooped down in front of you that the world came back to you. He held his hand out to you, causing you to flinch.

"Come on baby girl, let's get you settled for the night. I'll have someone clean this up." He said, grabbing your hand and yanking you up.

He led you to a small bedroom with tiny mattress, writing desk, and table lamp. You sat on the edge of the bed as he slammed the door.

You refused to look at him as he paced in front of you, running his hands through his hair in distress.

He was lost, you realized. He had not planned for whatever had happened. Being caught off guard was bad enough for him, but to lose his best friend too...

"Are you okay?" You asked, feeling rather silly for asking for such a shit question.

He turned to look at you, "What do you want me to say, (y/n)? Huh?"

You stared at your knees, "I don't know. I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."

"Why? Because you think I'm hurt? Because you think I give a fuck about any of this?" He asked, a snarl in his bite.

"You do care, Ramsay. You are hurt and upset and angry." You sighed, bracing for pain and silently apologizing to your son. Today must surely be your last day. You had just spoken your last words. But you wouldn't regret them. They were true.

He made a noise in his throat and turned away from you. Without warning he buried his fist in the wall.

You watched him, as he dropped his hand and sighed. He bowed his head and dropped his shoulders. Defeated. He was vulnerable. Yet, so unpredictable.

'You are his foundation. Don't crack.'

"Baby, come sit. Let me hold you." You said, heart hurting for him again.

No sarcastic quip or rude remark came as he sat on the edge of the bed with you. He rested his head on your shoulder.

"What happened?" You asked quietly, shifting to pull his head to your chest and wrapping your arms around him.

"It doesn't matter. I lost Damon and Yellow Dick... and a handful of others who were damn good at what the did." He sighed, pressing his cheek firmer against your warm skin.

"I wish you hadn't killed Charlotte." You mumbled.

"I gave her a choice. It's more than she woulda got if she had been someone else's wife. I offered her her freedom. To leave the game." Ramsay grunted with no remorse.

"Damon was her freedom. She told me that once." You replied, quietly.

A knock came on the door and Ben stepped inside.

"The doctor will see you now, boss." He said quietly.

Ramsay sighed and pushed away from you, slowly getting to his feet. Adrenaline must of been wearing off as he left the room with a limp, not looking at Ben as he walked past.

Ben turned to you, "Are you okay?"

"No." You said with a bitter laugh.

"I'm sorry. I should have been there. If you feel the need to blame someone, blame me. They were my friends. My brothers."

"Benjamin Bones, don't you dare blame yourself for what happened! You don't know that it would of made a difference. Just... make sure my husband finds his way back to me." You said, tears falling as you took in the pain and hurt written in Ben's face.

He nodded, closing the door behind him.

With a furious sniff you laid back on the bed, staring up at the yellowing ceiling as you rested your hands on your belly.

As if he realized it was you pressing on him, your son moved about inside you with stronger movements than you had yet to feel. It was amazing and painful in the ribs, all in one.

You closed your eyes and let the tears come freely as everything took you over. It was dim in the room by the time the tears had stopped coming. Your cheeks were still damp when someone walked in.

You glanced over to see Ramsay. He had cleaned up a bit. His limp was more pronounced now that his leg had been messed with. He took a heavy seat beside you.

"I'm sorry, baby girl." He said, placing his hand over your stomach.

"No you aren't, Ramsay. How's Matt?" You sniffed, placing your hand over his.

"He will be okay. Sore for a few days. But he was only hit a couple times in the arm." Ramsay said, pressing his hand firmer against you.

You both sat there in silence, feeling your child move about.

"Damon Cain." Ramsay said after awhile, pulling his hand away, and leaving the room again.

×××

Moose yipped excitedly as you walked into the back yard.

"Hey buddy. Sorry You were stuck outside all night. At least You had water. Let's go eat." You grinned, kneeling down and hugging him tightly as he wiggled in your grip and licked your face feverishly.

Ramsay closed the gate behind him without a word and rammed his key into the lock of the back door.

You entered the kitchen, snatching a cup to fill with dog food.

"Herman!" You gasped, pulling your phone and calling Tyene.

"Yes ma'am? Are you okay?"

"Ty, I need you to break into Damon's house and bring me the cat there. And everything that goes with him. Take Matt, the cat knows him." You said quickly.

"Of course. Anything else?"

"No. That's all."

Ramsay kicked out at Moose to make him go away as he pulled bottles of liquor the shelf and fell into a seat at the table an finished off the last bit of whiskey in one bottle. It scared you. He was about to drown himself in alcohol. He wouldn't stop. He would keep going.

Quickly you left the room and shut yourself in the bedroom, pulling your phone out again.

"Hello?"

"Ben, I need you here. As fast as you can. Bring Alyn if he's able. Please. It's an emergency. I'm afraid." You said quickly, and quietly.

"We will be there as quickly as we can be. If... if it comes to it, in your closet... if you pull back the carpet there's a door in the floor. In there is a shotgun, an AK, and some other shit. I hope it doesn't. I don't want to lose Ramsay, too, but your safety is just as important. Hold tight, (y/n)."

You hung up and tossed your phone on the bed. You crossed the room to the closet. You flipped on the light and pulled back the corner of the carpet. There, like Ben had said, was a trapdoor. You glanced around, pulling up the door. Inside were the two guns mentioned, Ramsay's six-shot, multiple pairs of brass knuckles, knives, explosives, mounds of cash, and piles of paperwork. You heard the smashing of glass in the kitchen. Quickly, you replaced the trapdoor and carpet, leaving the room silently.

You tiptoed down the hall, stopping in the kitchen doorway, watching your husband stare blankly at the alcohol bottles before him.

"Baby, maybe you should go get some sleep. You are exhausted." You said tentatively, walking over to him and grabbing a bottle.

"Put it down." He growled grabbing your wrist in a painful grip.

You released the bottle and tried to pull your hand away.

"Sit down and don't move." He said, thrusting you away from him.

You took a seat across the table from him. He stared at you as he downed a bottle. His eyes never leaving you, daring you to say something.

Half a bottle, a pack of cigarettes, and one passed out Ramsay later, Ben and Alyn came through the door. Alyn with his arm in a sling and in a wheelchair. Relief washed over you.

"How much?" Ben asked, glancing at the table of bottles.

"Half a bottle and whatever was left in one as soon as we got home." You whispered.

Ben crossed the table and pulled Ramsay up, who stirred slightly with a small groan. "Come on, Rams. Let's go throw up and feel better." Ben said half carrying, half dragging Ramsay out the backdoor.

You and Alyn sat in silence.

"Alright, man... I'm going to hit you and you're going to puke on my brand new shoes. Fair enough?" You heard Ben say.

Alyn wheeled over to the door and shut it, to save you the noise of Ramsay being violently sick in the yard.

"How are you?" You asked quietly, watching Alyn struggle in his chair.

"Well, I could be dead." Alyn said with a small shrug.

"What happened?"

Alyn stared at his knees for a long time before finally speaking.

"Typical day. Making rounds, collecting money, setting up new soldiers with their jobs and shit. No big deal. Some Kings men show up with some Lions. No idea what the fuck happened honestly. All of the sudden fire was opened on everyone. Damon stepped in, shoving Ramsay out of the way. Pumped full of metal. I'd say he was hit no less than twenty times. Matt and I, helping Ramsay get out of there. It's all kind of a blur. I've honestly no idea what happened or who opened fire on us."

"Alyn, I am so sorry." You said, fighting back tears. Amazed that you had any tears left to cry.

"That's business." He said, grabbing up a bottle and taking a swig.

Matt and Tyene walked in.

"Is Ramsay okay?" Tyene asked, glancing back at the door.

You tried to offer a smile, but it only came out as a grimace.

"Maybe someday he will be." You said, taking Herman from her. Matt set down a bag full of cat items in the corner behind the door.

You looked over at the two young adults. Matt with his arm wrapped in a sling, cuts and bruises all over his face. Tyene, rather pale and worried. You stroked Herman, who shook under you.

"I don't want to subject either of you to my husband's chaos. You can leave." You said, but they both sat at the table.

"This is our fight too." Matt said, defiantly, pulling a crushed joint from his pocket and handing it Tyene to smooth out.

"We play this game, too. All for one, and one for all." Tyene nodded, lighting the joint.

You helped Ben clean up Ramsay and put him to bed, returning to the living room to look at your dispirited party.

Alyn was going through the box of pictures again, telling Matt the stories behind some of them.

"Thank you for your help, Ben. It means the world to me. You should go home to your family." You said, taking a seat on the couch beside Tyene who was examining the picture of you and Ramsay on your wedding day.

"Ramsay is family too. You are family too. Liz understands." Ben grunted, sitting beside Alyn.

"I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that." She said, turning the picture to you.

You took the picture and stared down at it, a smile pulling the corner of your mouth.

"It was a perfect day. I don't think I was ever so happy. Damon... he was the life of the party that night."

"That he was. Fucking shit. Got us all fucked up, half naked, and dancing on tables." Alyn chuckled with a reminiscent sigh, "Man... We should of done that more."

Silence fell between you all as you all exchanged the pictures. As sad as it made you, you were glad Damon had brought the pictures to you. But, it was unsettling... almost if he had known this were going to happen. Maybe you hadn't been the only one keeping secrets.

"So, I see pictures of all you guys with girls and shit... but never Ramsay, why?" You said, setting your empty bowl of ice cream down on the coffee table and stroking Herman and Moose, who both fought for lap space.

Ben huffed, "Ramsay didn't date. I don't think he ever had a girl friend until he saw you. Sure there were girls he fucked. But he never formed relationships with them. More like owned and used until he was done. Never brought a girl home to meet dad or to hang with us. Almost thought he was gay, then you showed up."

You frowned, looking down at a picture of Ramsay in the boxing ring. Maybe you should talk him into boxing again. At least he could get his anger out.

"When will we do the funeral?" You asked, looking between Alyn and Ben.  

"Probably a couple of days. We all have all of our shit drawn up. And we bypass coroners and shit. Have our own way of doing things. I've already got everything set up for Dame. Just need Ramsay to give me a day."

×××

"Couldn't be a better day for a funeral." Ramsay said, zipping the back of your black dress, as thunder rolled, rattling the windows.

You said nothing as you watched him in the mirror. He had the look of a lost child. He wore a steely mask, but you could see it in his eyes behind the cold ice. He still had no idea how to function. Damon had been his constant. The only thing in his life that had stuck around. Damon had told you that you were Ramsay's foundation, but you weren't so sure of that anymore. Again, the thought that maybe Damon had planned on this sticking out to you. Had known he was going to die soon. The responsibility of Ramsay would be shunted from him onto you. Or maybe Damon had been right in saying you were everything to Ramsay, and it was your job to ground him again. You weren't sure what to do, but you couldn't let Ramsay keep on the path he was on.

He had hardly spoken since his drunken escapade. Mostly he sat there, staring at the wall, snapping orders at you. He hardly slept or ate and was ghostly pale. His usually rosy cheeks were as lifeless as his cold, blue eyes. The dark rings under his eyes, gave him the look of a vampire.

The church looked forbidding as you stepped over the threshold. You were not good enough to be here. The things you have done and seen, they were beyond forgiveness. Ramsay dropped your hand as the Boys approached. They all exchanged tight hugs and muttered words.

"(Y/n)." came a silky voice behind you.

You turned to see Roose standing there with Walda. Anger surged through you. How dare this man show up and make his presence known. How dare he stand here and remind Ramsay of what he had lost. Damon had been the buffer between Ramsay and Roose. You glared at him with burning hatred. He gave you an impassive gaze back. If you had had your gun you would have shot him right there. To be so hateful and emotionless. Like he was fucking better than everyone in this damn place. Roose Bolton was the psychopath. Not Ramsay. Ramsay was just damaged, beyond repair. All because of the man standing in front of you.

Ramsay turned as you stepped into Roose.

"You need to leave." You hissed at your father in law,

Roose merely raised his brows, "Damon was just as much my son as Ramsay. I fed and clothed that boy as he were my own." He said smoothly.

"And killed him just as easy." You growled so only he could hear.

"No. I had nothing to do with any of it. I was deeply saddened when I heard." Roose said, smoothing out his tie.

"You are a fucking liar! You need to leave!" You shouted, losing your temper.

Many people in the quiet church turned to stare at you, looking offended and reproachful.

Ramsay grabbed your hand and turned you to him, "What are you doing?" He hissed in your ear.

You opened your mouth, but no words came. Ramsay looked on the verge of a breakdown. You couldn't hurt him any further. You closed your mouth again and dropped your eyes. "I'm sorry baby. Just upset."

Ramsay looked from you to Roose, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Son, I came to offer my condolences of your friend. I know how alike you and Damon were. How close." Roose said, adopting a sincere fatherly tone.

Your eyes widened and jaw locked at what you were witnessing. He was a fucking snake. But you knew a few ways to kill snakes when they entered the chicken coop. You knew how to take care of things on your own. That's how you were raised. Roose was nearing the end of his days. You were going to make sure of it. The last couple of days had shown you just how strong you could be. How much you could endure. Your love for your husband and son meant that nothing could touch you. You had gone from the beasts wife to the beasts backbone.

"Thank you, father." Ramsay said, looking rather crestfallen.

"I had the help gather these up from around the house." Roose continued, pulling a manila envelope from his inside breast pocket and handing it to Ramsay.

Ramsay cleared his throat and opened the envelope, pulling out a stack of pictures. The picture on top was of Ramsay and Damon in their kindergarten class. So young and innocent. You saw a smirk twitch the corner of Ramsay's mouth as he put the pictures back in the envelope.

You looked back at Roose, a fresh wave of hatred forming. How dare he open old wounds when Ramsay was already on the verge of losing it. You turned on your heel and stomped off to take a seat.

"Ramsay, want to say a few words? You knew Damon best." The priest said, placing his bible back inside his inside pocket.

Ramsay squeezed your hand as he left your side, stepping out from under the awning, and placing his hand on the wet casket. Ramsay bowed his head, letting the rain soak him through before he finally spoke.

"Dame, where to begin man? These last twenty-two years have been... well, they have been, wild to say the least. I always told you that you would be the one doing this for me. But, you finally one upped me. Fucking cunt. If I had known that day on the playground would of got us right here, I'd have let that kid whoop your ass and walked away." His words were bitter. You felt the tears forming in your lashes. "But, this isn't the place for that. You've been my right hand since we were five. I guess I have a lot to thank your bitch ass for. Mostly being my wife. If you had never walked into that bar and told me about her, someone else would probably be giving these words because I'd be dead. So yeah, thank you for finding my wife, don't know where we would be without her."

'He wouldn't be dead if it weren't for me.' You thought with great sadness, tears falling quickly. You couldn't put it off any longer. You'd have to tell him. Ben, Alyn, Matt, and Ramsay were all in danger. You couldn't lose anyone else. You held back a sob, learning that Damon had brought you and Ramsay together. You had never known that. What had Damon said about you to Ramsay that caused him to come seek you out? Guilt swallowed you. If only you could have told Damon sorry. He was family.

"... and thanks for all those times you bailed my ass out of jail. And sat in jail with me. Rest easy, wing man. Know that when the sun rises tomorrow, this city will be painted red for you. You'll always have a beer at my table."

You opened the umbrella and walked over to Ramsay, covering both of you as the casket was lowered into the muddy hole. Ramsay reached inside his jacket and pulled the Iron Man mask out, dropping it on the casket, then ripped at a silver X cufflink, dropping it as well before turning on his heel and leaving without another word.

×××

Ramsay sat at the table, counting bullets and pouring over a map.

You picked up a gun from the chair, placing it on the table as you took a seat.

This was it.

"Baby. I... I need to talk to you." you said, quietly, glancing the map over.

Ramsay brought his tired bloodshot eyes to your face. Apparently you wore a very upset look, because his face softened a bit.

"What's wrong baby girl?"

You took a deep breath. "This is all my fault and I am so sorry."

Ramsay scrunched his brows, sitting up straight, "what's your fault?"

"All of this, Ramsay. Everything since Christmas." you cried, shaking as you held in the sob.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his eyes travelling over you questioningly.

You swallowed thickly, looking up at the ceiling, taking a shaky breath as you tried to blink back the tears.

"Your father didn't send you to run guns that day in his stead. He sent you to get you away from me. He cornered me alone and threatened that if I didn't keep you from making any more mess it wouldn't end well for our child. That he would take away everything that mattered to me."

Ramsay regarded you silently with a steely expression, resting his head on his hand as you drew another breath, "that night at the theater Margaery told me the rumors about you and your father. And it all started to click in place. If we were having a boy, he could kill you off, and me after I had the baby, and there would still be a Bolton heir to the business. I... I made the choice to play the game to try and keep you safe. To keep our family safe. All of our family. But I was never quick enough. Baby, I am so sorry."

You shook in fear as you finished. He was going to hurt you, you just knew it. You had fucked everything up.

Ramsay rose from his seat so quickly it fell backwards with a clatter. You flinched with a whimper, closing your eyes, waiting. You whimpered again as you felt his grip on your arm, as he pulled you from the chair. Tears still leaking from your eyes even though you couldn't shut them any tighter. Your heart beat painfully hard in your chest and the floor swayed beneath you, afraid you would fall if Ramsay let go.

He cupped your face and pulled you into him, placing his lips to yours. It was so gentle it broke the dam and you sobbed, falling into him.

"Look at me." He whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead.

Slowly you looked up at him. His eyes danced in a way you had never seen before. It was a mixture of many things.

"What else have you not told me?" He asked quietly.

You drew another breath, "the day before that, when Walda wanted to take me shopping... I was walking down the hall and heard two men talking. One man said that if you didn't watch it your father was going to put an end to you and he hoped he was the one to do it. And... and then take a few rounds with me. Said you probably kept me locked up so I was clean and tight as fuck. The other man told him to shut the fuck up and said he heard your father tell Karstark I was pregnant and that... it would be funny if the child wasn't yours and that you wold probably do me in like you did Domeric."

"Who were they?" He asked, jaw clenching.

"I... I don't know. I know one was Locke. But I don't know the other man. I never saw them." You said, dropping your eyes and staring at the gun on his hip.

Ramsay stepped away from you and let out a chaotic laugh. One you hoped never to hear again as it drove a nail of absolute fear in your chest.

"You learned how to fool me. You are dangerous." He finally said, pulling his lighter out of his pocket.

You drew a shallow breath, knees weak, not sure what he was going to do. He turned away from you back to the map he had been looking at. He glanced down at his watch.

"Well, there's still plenty of time." He said, obviously to himself, as it made no sense to you. "Doll, we are moving tomorrow. Go pack your things."

"I don't understand." You said, the knot in your chest loosening slightly, but fear of the unknown setting in.

"You don't need to. Just do what I said, before I change my mind about punishing you for keeping secrets from me."

[chogiwank]

Fortuity: A Chance Encounter - Prince Jaemin AU [Part 1]

Fluff | Prince!AU

word count: 2.2K

FemaleBaker!Reader x Prince!Jaemin

Na Jaemin is to inherit the throne as his father, King Na passed on. His coronation is to take place in a few days, although after visiting a small bakery in town his heart is hit with cupid’s arrow, stunned by the beauty of the bakester. [Part 2]

A/N: i had to repost this bc something fucked up,, but here u go!! Prince Jaemin once again reposted!! :))- Doyoung’s Darling

“My prince, your mother has sent me to call you down for your daily training.” The Butler, Suho says placing a hand on the Prince’s shoulder. “You must get going, Prince. Swordsman Jackson is waiting for your arrival.”

“Yes, Suho I’ll be heading there I just need to clean-”

“Oh no, no Prince, you must head down immediately.” Suho rushed Prince Jaemin out of his room. “You only have five minutes until your training starts, and if you’re late oh boy, I will not be hearing the end of it from your mother - claiming me as a lousy butler, and I can not risk losing this job,” Suho said flashing a nervous smile. “Now please, head down to the training grounds - I’ll clean up your work for you.” Suho gestured him to head down. Prince Jaemin bowed and rushed down the stairs.

“Swordsman! Sorry, I-” Jaemin was cut off as Jackson shoved the protective armour into his arms.

“No time to chat! Put these on Prince, let’s practice because I want to take you somewhere today.” Jaemin stood there bewildered but began to slide on his armour. Grabbing the silver sword Jackson held out for him, Prince Jaemin got in position.

“Okay, you remember everything I taught you yesterday?” Swordsman Jackson raised his eyebrows.

Prince Jaemin nodded. “Awareness, strong defence and balance”

“Forgot one, your highness,” Jackson snickered. Jaemin confused furrowing his brows. “Distraction,” Jackson said stomping his left leg once and moving forward, swinging his sword and bringing Jaemin’s up, sweeping it away flying out of his hold landing on the floor. “Remember your highness, use distraction as your secret weapon.”

“Will do, Swordsman.” Jaemin nodded with a smirk. “Now, let’s continue shall we?” he said getting back into position after picking his sword off the ground.

“Of course.” Jackson bowed and the two began to battle once more.

Thus after a long training period of an hour or so, Prince Jaemin and Swordsman Jackson sat back to back in the middle of the matted floor. Sweaty with heavy breaths they congratulated each other for a successful match. Taking a deep breath, the Swordsman spoke,

“Okay my Prince, now I must take you somewhere for a treat.”

“A treat?” Prince Jaemin said catching his breath.

“Yes, a little bakery I found.”

“But, I’m not sure mother would approve of sweets I must-”

“No no, my Prince,” Swordsman Jackson cut him off. “It’ll be okay, I told your mother I would take you for a walk today in the village, I promise you won’t be in trouble if anyone does it’ll for sure be me.”

“Are you sure of such a decision, Swordsman.” Jaemin raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, my Prince you deserve a break and a little treat, as do I because I am craving a blueberry muffin right now,” Jackson said standing up, rubbing his stomach with a pout. Jaemin laughed as he stood up, walking over to put his sword in the rightful place on the wall.

“Then let’s get going!” He flashed a bright smile, throwing an arm around Jackson’s shoulders.

So, the Swordsman and Prince walked through the village to the small bakery. The smiling sun shining down on them, and the villagers bowing down as a kind greeting. The two passed by a small stall selling brooches, Swordsman Jackson brought them off their walk to take a look at the magnificent pieces. Each one made with different diamonds and jewels, some gold, others silver, bronze and even rose.

“My Prince, why don’t you pick one out? It will surely be a great piece to wear at your coronation when you are to become King…” Jackson smirked. “Or when you finally end up passing your training sessions and get to fight like a true Knight, instead of getting your sword flipped out of your hand.” Jaemin playfully elbowed the Swordsman.

“I will improve, I just need practice.” Jaemin put his hands on his waist and stood up straight on his top toes as if he tried to intimidate the Swordsman.

“Nice try my Prince, but you have a long way to go.” Jackson chuckled, putting a hand on Jaemin’s shoulder and pushing him back down on his feet. “Now, which brooch shall we buy?” he turned his attention back to the stall, making eye contact with the elderly merchant and showing a warm smile. The old merchant smiled with slight dirt and yellow stained teeth, but the smile was none the less welcoming. Prince Jaemin looked around in the open boxes for a brooch which would suit him, but could not find one.

“I don’t know Swordsman. Although they are all an incredible sight to look at, I can not find one that satisfies me, which I feel belongs to me.”

“How about this my Prince!” The Swordsman said carefully picking up a large silver dragonfly brooch. It had shining diamonds making up its wings, two tiny red gems for its eyes and the colour of gold for the legs, “this could fit you well.”

Prince Jaemin grabbed the brooch with his index and thumb, carefully inspecting it, “it surely is a beauty.” He spoke. “But, I wish for something a little smaller.” He apologetically smiled.

“Ah, I have something for you then, Prince” the elderly merchant piped up. She reaches down into her side of the stall and pulls out a small red velvet box. “Here, you might like this. It is fit for such a handsome boy like you, and of course a King to be.” Prince Jaemin took a hold of the red velvet box with both hands, putting one under it and opening it with the other. His mouth slightly parted at the handiwork he’d seen. It was a stunning eagle brochure - made of gold, a tiny blue jewel for its eye, and a pearl the bird stood on - leaving the Prince and Swordsman in awe of such gorgeous craftwork.

Jaemin looks up at the elderly merchant,

“I can not take such an art piece from you, you must take it back.”

“No, no, no you must keep it kind Prince. If I were to take it back, I would be left in sadness that you did not want one of my works.” The elderly merchant spoke in a soft voice. “Please keep it, it will bring me great pleasure if you do so.”

“Oh of course, but how much is it? I will pay as much you ask for.”

“Free of charge.” The elderly merchant smiled. “The only payment I ask for is if you wear it, and not treat it as schlock.”

“You must want some type of cash, merchant - I would feel guilty if I were to take this from you like this.” Jaemin pleaded.

The elderly merchant shook her head, “Prince, if you do not already know, I do not sell these brooches for money, I sell them to be kind.” Prince Jaemin looked at her muddled. The elderly merchant continued, “it brings me joy when other’s have happiness, and if that happiness can come from something which I have crafted by my own two hands, that my Prince, is an even greater accomplishment.”

The Prince shifted his gaze from the elderly merchant down to the jewelled brooch. “So, I can really take this for free? As long as it isn’t treated as rubbish?”

“As long as it makes you happy, yes.” The old merchant nodded.

“Then, I shall take it. I shall wear it and remember it as a vow to be happy with little things in life.” Prince Jaemin pledged with his right hand on his chest and a thankful smile.

The merchant smiled, “you should pick one too Swordsman, after all, there is one for everyone.”

Swordsman Jackson lit up, he reached towards one of the brooches taking a hold of a gold brooch shaped like a crest, with a silver knight in the middle. “I’ll take this one if you allow.” The merchant nodded once again, waving them a gentle goodbye. The two smiled at the elderly merchant for the last time as they turned around continuing their walk to the bakery.

“Finally, we’ve made it my Prince!” Jackson gestured towards the small bakery in front of them. Eats and Treats, the sign spelled on the wooden door. “Shall we head in?” he held open the door with a smile and the two walked into the tiny bakery.

The inside walls and oven were made up of fieldstone, five wooden tables placed were composed of the finest redwood. Flour bags took their place beside the stone oven, cups hung on the wall, and bread put on the side shelves near the front.

“Is anyone here Swordsman?”

“The door was open, so someone-”

“Achoo!” The Swordsman and Prince were taken aback by the sudden sneeze and opening of the back door. The sneezing continued as a young woman walked out with clothes covered in flour, and cheeks a tint of red.

“Ah that damned flour bag! Can that looby not do his job properly? I should’ve told him out a long time-” The young woman caught a view of the two males standing in the bakery. “Oh my goodness! I am so sorry for the inconvenience, my apologies.” The young woman rushed over to the two, she flashed a smile giving a curtsey. “Excuse my appearance, but how may I be of your service today?”

Prince Jaemin stood astonished at the young bakester in front of him. She wore a long tattered gown faded of its beige colour, flour stained her clothes, some in her hair and smudged on her right cheek. Despite her unkempt appearance, the Prince found himself struck by her beauty. Her eyes looked to hold the stars, alluring lips which he craved to lay his upon and her divine figure left him dumbfounded. To him she was the quintessence of pulchritude; she was beauty.

“You know you’ll get a fly in your mouth if you keep your mouth open like that.” The bakester let out a giggle snapping Jaemin out of his trance. His cheeks developed a pink tinge, he turned his gaze down to the floor in embarrassment as he heard the bakester and swordsman’s laughter. Bowing with an apologetic smile for staring Jaemin avoided eye contact with the girl.

“Sorry for that, but may I ask what your treats are for today?” Jackson smiled brightly. “We have to be heading back soon.”

“Our special for today is banana bread, is that fine?” The bakester kindly smiled.

“Perfect! My Prince would you…” Jackson trailed off as he saw Jaemin lost in thought waving a hand in front of his face, taking Jaemin out of his daze. “would you wish to have banana bread?”

“Yes, banana bread would be nice,” Jaemin said flustered over his unintentional stares. The bakester walks over to the stone oven throwing in another wood to increase the fire. Picking up a bread piece from the side shelves she places it into the oven allowing it to warm up. Prince Jaemin looked at her as if she was a piece of delicate artwork. He was solicitous about wanting to know the girl who made his heart swoon. Her name, her likes and dislikes, he wanted to know everything but could he? Being a Prince soon to be King would he be able to?

Finishing the preparation of the banana bread, the bakester placed it in a brown paper bag and handed it to the two with a kind smile. Prince Jaemin and Swordsman Jackson thanked the bakester for her service as they walked out of the bakery.

“Wow, I never thought the highness would make such a jest of himself.” Jackson teased the Prince. “Especially not over a commoner who sells bread.”

“The universe is full of wonders Swordsman, and that bakester is one of them,” Jaemin replies sheepishly causing Jackson to laugh.

“Perhaps you should ask her to attend your coronation next week, my Prince.”

“Oh yes! I’ll return again morrow and hopefully, she accepts.”

“Maybe ask for her name as well,” Jackson said munching on his banana bread making the Prince stop in his tracks.

“Alack! I can not believe to be such a looby! I forgot to ask her name!” Jaemin face-palmed in disbelief - he forgot to ask her name. He was truly an idiot.

“All the more reason for you to return morrow, my Prince,” Jackson said with a face full of banana bread. “I recommend in a more flattering outfit as well.” Jackson once-overs Jaemin. The Prince looks down at his outfit and realizes he still wore his armour from training, mentally slapping himself for being such a fool. Although he never expected to have such an encounter. “Or you can show up in this again and tell her you’re her Knight-” Jaemin smacked his back, Jackson spitting out his banana bread turning into a fit of laughter.

And so, the Prince and Swordsman dawdled back to the castle returning to their duties.

That night Prince Jaemin lay in bed, mind filled with thoughts of the comely bakester. She had a type of elegance and charm from simplicity. He was determined to meet her once again with a glimmer of faith for her to be his, and he her’s. He was truly smitten but could not care as his thoughts would not fathom most except linger on the comely commoner.

A/N: Ahhh!! so this is my first Prince AU for our NCT Prince series and I got a little carried away but it was really fun!! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this,, feedback is appreciated!! PART 2 WILL BE POSTED WHEN AND IF THIS POST GETS LETS SAYYYY....20-30+ NOTES????

REMINDER! Requests are open but smut will be posted a little later for those who requested just so it’s not repetitive and the same type of scenario over and over :))

~ Doyoung’s Darling

[hellimagines]

Us--Billy Hargrove (smut)

Masterlist

Request: “Can irequest a billy hargrove smut imagine where he gets his gorgeous girlfriend (Steve's sister) pregnant, their scared but so happy and leads to hot smuttl and fluff?” @harduy & “Hi! could you do one with billy where him and the reader are having an argument over something stupid but then the reader gets turned on bc she thinks he’s hot when he’s mad”

Summary: After finding out you’re pregnant, you have to tell the two most important people in your life; your brother and your boyfriend.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, angst

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x fem!reader, brother!Steve Harrington x sister!Harrington (not incest lmfao)

Word Count: 2,668

A/N: I combined the two, but it’s not as angry/fighty as you probably would’ve hoped.

Your hands gripped the porcelain toilet bowl in front of you, resting your flushed forehead against the cool material. Your (e/c) eyes were squeezed shut in an attempt to block out another wave of nausea. Letting out a ragged breath, you reached up and flushed the handle, the remains of last night’s dinner disappearing down the toilet.  

“Fuck,” you moaned in despair, forcing your weak body to stand on shaky legs. It was only 6:00 in the morning on a Saturday- you shouldn’t be awake. But being 6 weeks pregnant, it was nothing new. You’d done an amazing job at hiding it for the past 2 weeks, but you knew you needed to tell Steve soon… and Billy.

“(Y/N)? You okay?” Steve asked, his knuckles gently knocking on the outside of the bathroom door. You winced at the unexpected sound, wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your grey sweater.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just a little sick,” you responded, turning on the faucet so you could wash away the fatigue.

“Still?” Steve questioned after a moment of hesitation. “You’ve been sick for almost a week. Are you sure you don’t want me to see if dad can fly back early?”

“No!” you said quickly, your heart racing. “No, Steve. I’m fine, really. It’s not a big deal,” you tried to assure him, finally turning off the faucet and opening the bathroom door. Steve was stood outside, resting against the frame, his hair a wild mess and his eyes filled with worry.

“No, you’re not (Y/N). It’s not flu season, what’s going on?” Steve huffed, crossing his arms and barricading the door so you couldn’t leave. Steve already knew what was going on- he had seen the positive pregnancy test in the trash can before you had the chance to take it out yourself. But he wanted you to trust him enough to tell him yourself. However, it’d been 2 weeks already, and you still hadn’t told him. He knew you were dating Billy, and he wasn’t happy about it. But you’d made him see that the blond was changing and treating you well. You had told him about that immediately. So why couldn’t you tell him about this?

“I…” you began, unsure of how to tell him. He was gonna be mad, so, so mad. Steve had put so much faith and trust into you with this relationship. He hated Billy, and if he found out that he had knocked you up, Steve would kill him.

“You…?”

“I’m pregnant, Steve,” you finally blurted out with a heavy sigh. You weren’t looking at him- you had your head pointed down, your eyes trained on your socks. Steve didn’t say anything, but he nodded with a gentle sigh.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it, peanut?” he asked, and you snapped your head up in shock.

“Wha-?”

“I already knew, (Y/N/N). I saw the test about two weeks ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me,” he said. Your eyes widened in disbelief, but before you could respond, he had reached out to pull you into his chest. “I’m not mad. I’m shocked, yeah. I’m… confused, I guess. But I’m not mad. Does he know?” he questioned, his cheek resting on the top of your head.

“No,” you whimpered, tears beginning to well into your eyes as you gripped the back of his shirt. “I don’t know how to tell him. He’ll leave me. He’s never wanted kids, because of his dad. He doesn’t want to be like his dad. Steve, he’s gonna leave me,” you cried, and Steve pulled you closer, running his fingers through your (h/c) hair.

“Hey, shh,” he cooed, trying to get you to calm down. He didn’t do know jack shit about babies (all he knew were the middle schoolers he’d been watching over the past few months, and they were like mini teenagers), but he did know stress wasn’t good for a baby. “You have to tell him, (Y/N). No matter what happens, you have to. Whether you choose to keep it or not, is between you and him. But you have to tell him. Soon. He’s going to find out either way, and he’ll be even more pissed if he finds out you kept this from him,” Steve reasoned, pulling you back slightly so he could look down at you. You looked up at him, and nodded slowly.

“Okay… okay I will. I’ll invite him over today, if that’s okay?” you asked quietly, and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m going over to babysit Dustin and the others at 6. If anything happens, call me, okay?” he demanded.

“I will,” you promised, and Steve smiled, planting a soft kiss to your sweaty forehead.

Later that night, Billy showed up around 6:15, and now the two of you were curled up on your couch in the living room. Alien was playing on the T.V, Billy totally engrossed in the film, while you were more focused on him. You were tucked into his side, your knees folded into your side, with his arm draped around you. Your fingers mindlessly played with his bronze St.Christopher medallion as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’m pregnant,” you randomly blurted out, not taking your eyes off of his necklace. The finger that had been twirling through your hair stopped for a second, before the whole arm was being retracted from you. The ferocity at which he had pulled back his arm caused you to fall to the side, away from him.

“What did you say?” he asked lowly, his blue eyes looking down at you. You looked back at him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“I uhm… I’m pregnant, Billy. I know, you don’t want kids. And I’m sorry, but this isn’t all my fault!” you cried, knowing better than to reach your hand out to hold onto his.

“You’re damn right I don’t!” he yelled, rushing to his feet. You didn’t flinch at the shout, instead standing yourself.

“Billy, would you just listen to me!” you pleaded, staring at his back. His shoulders flexed, before finally, he turned around. “You’re not like you’re dad, okay? You’re not. We’re three months away from graduating. You want to go back to California, right? I’ll go with you. With my dad’s money, we can get an apartment, go to college, get a job, and take care of each other. I know we’re only 18, and that this isn’t ideal. But if you love me, like you said you did… you won’t leave me because of this. And if you don’t want the baby, that’s fine too, we can figure it out. We can figure all of this out. But I can’t do it on my own, I can’t do it without you,” you whimpered, breaking down. Tears streamed down your face, and it took all of your strength not to collapse onto the couch beside you. Billy’s shoulders heaved up and down as he watched you, taking in your shaking body. He slowly walked forward, his eyes darting between your own.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said, putting his hands on the side of your face so he could rest your foreheads together. You sniffled, trying to control your tears. “I don’t want to hurt you. Or what’s inside you. I don’t want to be like him,” he confessed.

“As long as you stay, you can’t hurt me. I promise,” you assured, nudging your nose against his. Billy shook his head at the gesture, his mouth quirking up in a small smile. You tilted your head, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.

“I won’t leave,” he promised, breaking the kiss. “We’ll have to talk about this with your dad, and with my dad and Susan… I don’t know how that’s going to go,” he admitted sadly, not wanting to think about the thought.

“I know, but we can worry about it later. Let’s focus on us,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. Billy moved his hands to rest on your hips, bringing you closer.

“Us,” he smiled, kissing you again, but with more passion, and more love.

Billy began backing the both of you up until your legs hit the couch, sending you falling onto it. Billy was quick to climb on top of you, connecting your lips once again. You wrapped your legs around his hips, giving the two of you more room on the couch, while Billy rested most of his body weight on his elbows. Before you could tangle your fingers in his blond hair, Billy briefly pulled away so he could remove his shirt, you following suit with your own. Billy ran his hands up your sides, placing open-mouthed kisses along your chest and neck. He didn’t leave any marks, but the sensation was enough to make you shiver. Your hands fell down to his pants, your fingers quickly working to unbutton and unzip them. Billy let out a low hiss when you ran your hand over the bulge in his underwear, his teeth nipping at your collarbone. Billy pulled away again, but only so that he could undo your own pants, slowly pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the ground.

“I love you,” he whispered, bowing his head so he could kiss his way from your stomach to your chest. You weren’t sure if he was saying it to you, or the baby growing in your stomach, but either way, your heart fluttered.

“I love you too,” you hummed, pulling his chin up so you could kiss him.

Billy pulled you up, unhooking your bra and sliding the straps down your shoulders, tossing it with the other pile of clothes. Using your legs and your feet, you were able to shimmy Billy’s jeans a good portion of the way down, before allowing him to finish the job. He ran his hand over your stomach, humming softly into the kiss, before eventually moving his hand into your underwear. Your hips arched instantly, having missed the contact. You hadn’t been intimate in awhile- it’d been about three or four weeks. You were soaking wet, if the damp spot on your pink underwear was anything to go by.

“Fuck,” Billy moaned when his fingers dragged through your lips, the tips instantly feeling how wet you were for him without having to dive all the way in. “Missed me that much?” he grinned, staring down at you with a wicked smirk.

“You have no idea,” you huffed, not in the mood for much conversation.

You bucked your hips, his fingers finally hitting your clit. It wasn’t much, if anything a brush of a feather, but it was enough to make you sigh in pleasure. Billy passed the pad of his finger over the tip of your clit, barely touching it, watching your expressions closely. His pinky finger managed to escape the confines of your underwear, and he used it to drag over your underwear, pressing down slightly where he knew your entrance was. You were tired of this, you didn’t have the kind of patience for foreplay tonight. Without warning, you roughly shoved at his shoulder, causing him to fall backwards, his head landing on the arm rest. Billy’s eyebrows rose, a permanent smirk resting on his lips. Lifting yourself up, you grabbed at his boxers and tugged them off, adding them to the pile along with your own.

You paid no attention to his springing erection as you crawled on top of him, straddling his hips. His cock was laying directly underneath your cunt, your seeping wetness slicking his shaft just slightly. Rocking forward a bit, Billy’s hands flew up to grip your hips, his nails digging into your ass. His once ocean-blue eyes were now a dark navy, filled to the brim with lust as he racked your form. You rocked forward again, but more so than the last time, dragging your pussy from the tip of his cock, to the base, and then back to the tip.

“Princess,” Billy moaned, his thumbs rubbing over your hip bones. You took that as your cue. Picking yourself up so you were no longer rested on Billy, but now resting on your knees, you grabbed his cock, pumping your hand along it a few times. Your grinding had spread your own pre-cum along the shaft, so as you lowered yourself down, it wasn’t painful. You were tight though; you hadn’t been fucked in weeks. But you were also soaking wet, so it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Billy let out a lengthy moan, refraining from bucking his hips and shoving himself all the way inside you.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, grasping his shoulder tightly, finally settling down on his entire length.

“You’re so tight, baby girl,” Billy groaned, lifting his hand up to push some of your hair behind your ear.

You waited a minute, allowing yourself to adjust to the feeling of him again, before you began to move. Both of you moaned at the same time, your head tossing back as his cock hit deep within you. Billy’s hands left your hips, attaching themselves to your tits and giving them a rough squeeze. You cried out in pleasure, their sensitivity shocking you momentarily. Billy gave you a toothy grin even though you weren’t looking, and he began tweaking your perked nipples with his thumb and forefinger. Your nails scraped down his chest, rocking yourself forward and further into his grasp.

“Mm, fuck, hold on, gorgeous,” Billy huffed, and you looked down at him with narrowed eyes, challenging him to stop fucking you. Billy ignored the look, instead holding your sides so he could move himself into a sitting position. Your legs wrapped around his back, his mouth instantly latching onto your left nipple.

“Fuck, Billy,” you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving the blond locks a painful tug. Bouncing yourself on top of him, you could feel your orgasm approaching. “I’m close,” you warned, looking down at him. Billy pulled away from your tit to look up at you, grinning.

“I bet,” he snickered, nipping at your jaw. He held your body close to him, bucking his hips to meet your bounce, so that each time you would come down, he’d slam into you. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your teeth sinking the base of his neck as your orgasm hit you full-throttle.

“Ah, fuck!” you yelled, the noise muffled by his skin. Your walls tightened around him, your eyes squeezing shut, as you rocked your body forward to drag out your orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” Billy hissed, holding onto your ass as his own orgasm approached. With a few more thrusts, Billy tightened his hold on you, locking your body within his arms as he came inside you. Both of your bodies shuttered and bucked with the aftermath, riding out your orgasms. Slowly, you began to pull yourself off of him, whimpering from the sensitivity and the loss of contact. His cock fell free, but you stayed on his lap, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“You’re not gonna leave, right?” you asked quietly, your voice hoarse. Billy ran his hand down your sweaty hair, pushing it out of your face again.

“Of course not, baby. I’m here for the long run, and we’ll figure this out together,” he said, kissing the side of your head and holding you close. Billy kicked his legs out and scooted down the couch, pulling you down as he laid back. “Go to sleep, princess. I’ll wake you up before Steve gets back,” he promised, and you couldn’t help but snicker at the thought of Steve walking in on the two of you, naked and asleep on the couch.

“Thank you,” you hummed, kissing the red bite-mark you had left on his shoulder, before closing your eyes and eventually allowing yourself to doze off.

[belladonnaandulriched]

beautiful tragedy | chapter seven: pane of glass

Joey’s point of view

I wake up to the sound of Millie purring right next to my ear. I roll my head over to see her curled up on the bed itself, not the pillow, but she's laying there, all curled up like a cinnamon bun.

I have to make my way out to California but I'm afraid. I'm paranoid. There's the money I have... and then there's the rest of the money I don't know if or when it's coming.

I also don't know what to do about Millie, either.

My stomach is utterly killing me: it's like I got sucker punched there during a hockey game. It's hollow. It's painful. It's like the hollow inside of a tree, just eating away at me and sending me into primeval mode.

What the hell is wrong with me? I got food in the kitchen... if I don't eat it, it'll spoil. That's it. If I don't it, it'll go bad. Not because I have to feed my sorry ass: but because I don't want to throw the little money I have left over into a pile and torch it.

I lay my hand on top of the blanket, right above my stomach. It literally aches me to the point of making me feel sick. It feels so delicate and weak there.

I roll my head over again for a look at Millie again. Her eyes are pinched shut and yet her purr is unmistakable.

I roll over onto my left hip and I reach up to pet her head. She purrs even louder and her eyes open at me: she stretches out a paw at me. Those claws shoot out from their places: as sharp as razors.

“Hey, baby,” I whisper to her. “Millie—li'l Millie.” She yawns and shows me those pointy teeth and the inside of her mouth. She then opens her eyes even more and brings her gaze right at me. She stares at me for like a minute before she makes a noise that sounds like the precursor to a meow in her throat.

“What?” I ask her in a breathy voice. I hear the rain hammering down on the room overhead, but she's fixated on me. “What is it, babe?”

She then stands to all four paws and stretches her back—she looks like a cat at Halloween. She then stretches out both of her front paws at me and slinks over to my middle, and curls up next to me right there. She presses tight against my body, up against my stomach, and lays her head down on her paws. She's warm, so warm that it comforts me.

It's like she knows. She knows the pain I feel in my belly, in my heart, in my body... in everything. She's using the warmth of her body to soothe me.

I sigh through my nose and I reach down to pet her head again. She's still purring—quite loudly, I might add.

It's hard to believe I can be seen as beautiful or even so much as cute or handsome by someone else, another pair of eyes—be it from Lars or from his girlfriend for that matter. But this little kitty cat here, this four legged friend and my best friend at the moment, is helping me because I let her into my place and I gave her something to eat.

I pet the soft smooth black fur on her body some more and then I wonder if she's hungry herself.

I roll onto my back once again and this time I follow it with a literal roll out of my bed. I'm greeted by the cold in my room there on my bare legs. I can never sleep with the damn furnace on because I get too hot: so all too often when I wake up on these cold rainy mornings, it gets so cold in my room. In this whole place, actually.

A painful twitch hits me right in the side of my belly, right near my hip bone. I bow my head and bring my hands to waist to ease the pain.

I feel her fur on my back. I turn my head to look at Millie, right into those golden eyes. She knows.

I swallow and I feel a hard sensation inside of my throat.

“Hi, baby—c'mere,” I tell her; I lift my arm so she can rub on me some more. She sets her paws on my thigh and presses her head against my stomach. I pet her head and she tilts it back to show me that little cat mouth upturned in a smile and her little black nose. She then looks at me with that purr so loud and full in my ears.

“Want some breakfast?” I offer her, and she makes that little noise in her throat again, complete with a little rise of her head. “Okay, c'mon—I gotta get up, babe.”

And she moves her paws from my thigh so as to let me climb to my feet.

She follows me out of my room and into the kitchen—I still have one hand resting on my stomach to ease the feeling. But I use both hands to give her her food. She sits there near the entrance of the kitchen with her front paws together and her tail wrapped around her.

“Here, babe,” I tell her as I set the dish down in front of her, and she squats down to it.

I'm the bad guy. The bad dude and the mother fucker without a whim or a will. What the hell is wrong with me.

I need to check to see if that check came into my account. I need to get dressed anyway.

I stride out of the room and back into my room to get dressed and put on my boots given I know the rain has done a number outside.

Once I'm laced up and ready to put on my coat, she had scarfed up the entirety of the canned food I gave her. She licks her paw and rubs it over the top of her head.

“I'll be right back, okay?” I tell her and she looks up at me with those golden eyes gleaming at me. “I'll be back. I promise.”

She then returns to washing, which gives me the cue to leave.

There's a full on lake forming on the sidewalk as I make my way towards the street. I pull the collar up to my face but it's useless given the crown of my head is already soaking wet from the rain. My stomach hurts so bad that it's a miracle I can even walk.

I catch the sound of a couple up the block arguing. It doesn't help that the front door of their house is standing wide open and the woman is demanding that he close it because of the rain.

Ugh. I hope that's not me one day.

The door closes as soon as I reach the corner. I feel sick to my stomach, but I need to know if I got the money yet.

The front window from that house breaks open and a television comes flying out—I think back to the last time I partied with Anthrax, on New Year's Eve for Scott's birthday down in the City, and by some madness, Scott hurled a television out the hotel window.

But at least there the window was open: this thing broke the glass so much that shards sail in my direction. I dodge away and almost fall ass over teakettle into a mud puddle. But I catch myself and watch the man all but stumble out of his place and to his car. Poor guy looks like the marriage was taking its toll on him: he's all gray and out of shape.

I really hope that's not me one day.

But he stops and gazes on at me.

“You alright, man?” he calls out to me.

“Yeah, just wasn't expectin' that,” I confess to him; even though I caught myself, I feel my flagging energy catching up with me.

“Tell me about it—I'm gettin' the hell outta here and from that crazy old bat.” I watch him climb into his car parked at the curb and speed away. Meanwhile, I'm left standing there with my knees quivering and feeling unsure if the woman is going to come out of that place and attack me, too.

My knees buckle and I stagger down onto the grass. The soft wet earth hugs my knees, but it almost feels like I'm dying. I'm going to return to the earth, the little Injun boy I am.

Something catches my eye. I look down to my right. That shard of broken glass jutting out from the ground. It's soaking wet from the lake effect rain, and yet I'm able to look at my own reflection.

I look at myself, at my own face, those brown eyes, that gaunt face looking pale from hunger—I'm twenty eight years old and yet I look as though I had been alive for over a thousand years. I should be as brown as a bean as my mom would say, and yet I look like I've seen a ghost. A young buck down on his luck. More than down on his luck. A slave to his own poor stomach and the fumes in his pocket.

Alive for a thousand years and yet... I also feel so young. A part of me still thinks I'm a teenager and I should be back over at my parents' house.

“Fuck it, man, I need sump'n to eat...”

A strand of hair falls onto my face. It's wet but it feels dry. Sure, my hair is coarse, but it has never been so dry before. I think back to when Lars was here and my hair was starting to dry out.

Oh dear God. Lars!

I pick myself and hobble back to my place. Millie's still in her place on the kitchen by the time I stagger inside and catch myself on the back of the couch. She looks up at me with her eyes wide and alert. I'm breathing heavy. I'm in pain.

“What do you think I should eat?” I ask her like she's a person. She sits there, that little pear shaped black cat silhouette on my kitchen floor. My knees are still quivering: my ankles feel like they're about to give out.

“Let's see, I'm shaking...” I wonder aloud. I keep my eyes locked on Millie as she continues to sit there. Millie. A few letters away from milk. I'm glad I didn't give her any of my milk in my fridge, come to think of it.

Wait a minute.

I think back to when I played hockey for a living: my old coach always told me that when I've got the shakes, I should drink a glass of milk. I stumble into the kitchen, past her, and pick out a cup from the cupboard. I pour myself one and drink it down in one fell swoop, and with both hands on either side of the cup's base.

I set it down on the counter and look over at her.

“Well, I feel better now,” I tell her, “still hungry, but I don't feel like I'm gonna puke, though.”

She gives me another round of purring, followed by a soft meow. I knit my eyebrows together.

“Hang on a second, you got water?” I crane my neck to that little water dish I let her have, and sure enough, she's got plenty of water. “Yeah, you do.”

She meows again, and she's looking at the cup on the counter.

“You want some?” I ask her. She sits there, purring.

“Yes?”

She doesn't reply.

“You want me to have more?”

And she meows at me. Again. She knows.

“Okay,” I tell her in a soft voice. “Okay, baby��I'll have more.”

I pour myself another cup full and I drink it more slowly: I reach halfway and I feel her against my legs.

I sink down to the opposite side of the floor with the cup still in one hand: I lean back against the cupboard door and she continues to rub on me and purr very loudly. At one point, she lays on her side and shows me the extra soft fur on her belly. I pet her there and she purrs even louder. She trusts me!

“Yeah, you're my friend right now, aren't you,” I say to her; I use my free hand for another swig from the cup. I pet her a little more on the belly and then she clambers to her feet almost out of the blue.

“What? What? What's wrong?” Her eyes are big and her pupils are like big black holes. Her tail and her ears are fully erect. “What is it?”

She then hurries out of there to check it out, and in turn leaves me alone there on the kitchen floor. I look on the other side, at the sight of those faded stains there underneath the knife drawer. Lars cut himself in here, right across from me. I brought him home with me; it only makes sense for him to return the favor.

I hope Lars can fly me out to California because I need to get away from here for a while. I need to get away from myself.

[fangirl--of-everything]

Drive Safely (Jeff Atkins x Reader)

A/N. JEFF DESERVES BETTER! And because of this, and because I am trash, I rewrote the ending of episode 9 - Clay doesn’t leave, Hannah and Sheri don’t knock over the stop sign, and everyone is safe. I hope you guys like it, and I am more than willing to take requests. Feel free to message me guys. Let’s cry together.

WORD COUNT: 3,420

Alright, enjoy!

The music was blasting, the beer was flowing, and Jessica and Justin were on the verge of procreating on the couch. (Y/n) rolled her eyes at the two sophomores and squeezed through the crowd, balancing the two drinks in her hands as she weaved around the drunk teenagers. She finally made it outside, sucking in a breath of the cooling autumn air and sighing. She was pretty sure Monty had brushed up against her ass. Horny asshole.

She looked around the far less populated, but still crowded, front yard, picking out her boyfriend from the way his poofy hair stood out above everyone else. He was talking to Clay, and as she approached she saw him roll his eyes violently, his whole body swaying with the force of it.

Damn Jensen, she thought with a laugh, you’re gonna break my boyfriend of you and Hannah don’t bang soon.

“Baby, your eyes are gonna get stuck like that.”

Jeff turned, his face changing as he looked at her. He lit up, grinned, and looked her up and down. “Hey babe! Listen, tell Clay he’s being stupid alright?”

She sighed, holding out his drink. “Coke for you, and Clay, you’re being an idiot.”

“I’m leaving.” Clay threw up his hands, exasperated.

“Woah,” (Y/n) lunged forward, catching his arm. Something was obviously wrong, he always played along with her and Jeff, and he was nervous, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “What’s up Clay? You alright?”

“I’m fine.” He shrugged out of her grip. “I just wanna go home alright?”

“Hannah kicked him out of the bedroom.” Jeff said, crossing his arms. “And now Clay’s being a baby and won’t go talk to her about it. Go talk to her Clay.”

“Leave him alone,” She elbowed his side. “If Clay is too afraid to–”

“I’m not afraid!” Clay snapped. He looked between the two of them, mouth moving soundlessly, and he growled, spinning on his heel and charging towards the house. “I know what you two assholes are doing!” He shouted over his shoulder, shoving Zach out of the way as he reentered the house, flashing you both the middle finger.

“Wow.” (Y/n) laughed softly, looking up at Jeff and cradling her Palm Bay in both hands. “He is so whipped.”

“Yup.” Jeff wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. “How’re you doing?”

She tilted her face up, kissing him softly. He smiled against her mouth, teeth catching her bottom lip playfully, and she shivered. But there were too many jocks around to really get into it right now. Damn the jocks. She broke away, taking a sip of her drink to keep from kissing him again. “I’m good. You? Jessica managed to remove her tongue from inside Justin’s mouth long enough to tell me they need more beer, and Sheri’s moving the car so you can get out.”

He nodded, attention a little too focused on her mouth and not enough on what she was saying. She nudged his side and he sighed, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry. Yeah I’m good. There’s no vodka in this right?” He wiggled the red cup.

She shook her head. “You have practice tomorrow, I figured you wouldn’t want to drink anymore.”

He kissed her temple, pulling her harder against his side until she was drowning in the smell of him. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thanks baby.”

“Love you.” She mumbled into his chest. Booze made her sentimental.

“Love you too.” He smiled down at her. “You wanna come?”

She nodded. He slid his hand down her back, giving her ass a quick pat. She smacked his hand, laughing, and he grinned down at her, pulling her towards the car. They settled in, and his hand found her knee, tapping a beat against the side of her leg as he turned on the car and the radio started blasting. He started singing along to some country song that made her roll her eyes, but when he looked at her dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows at her, she was forced to sing along.

“OH AND I’M HIGH ON LOVING YOU, HIGH ON LOVING YOU!” He pointed to her, bobbing his head.

“I’m leaving you.”

“I love you too.” He winked at her as he pulled into the beer store parking lot. “Wait here while I run in?” He asked, getting out of the car.

“No I’ll come.” She reached for her door handle, but Jeff pointed the control at the car and clicked the lock button. The door handle jerked in her hand, but the door stayed closed. “Seriously?” She undid the lock, and he pressed the button again, winking at her. He grabbed the passenger side handle, pressed the button again, and opened the door for her.

“M’lady.” He smiled with a mock-bow.

She rolled her eyes. “You are so lame.”

He leaned forward, pecking her lips. “I love you.”

She sighed, taking his hand as he led her towards the store. “I love you too you big dork.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders again, and her arms slid around his waist as they browsed the store, grabbing a couple six packs and some more coolers. He also grabbed a bag of chips, some candy, and a smoothie that he knew she liked. She kissed him again for that, pressing his back against the freezer. His hands found her ass, her fingers tangled in his hair and played with his earring, and they didn’t stop until he mumbled something about getting frostbite in a place that would stop this from going much further into the sensitive skin of her neck. She laughed, pushing him away and squeezing her legs a little closer together as they walked over to the cash register. He pinched her ass while they waited in line, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back flush against his chest. As punishment, she rolled her hips backwards, grinding them against his front subtly, making him groan. Served him right, trying to tease her. Little asshole.

He payed fast, practically throwing money at the cashier, grabbed (y/n) around the knees, throwing her over his shoulder. She shrieked, laughing and kicking and smacking his back.

“Put me down you idiot!” She laughed. “What the hell Jeff?” She bumped his stomach with her knee, causing him to grunt.

“Ow.”

“Whoops.” She said sarcastically. “Put me down.”

Don’t move so much babe, I’m gonna drop the beer.” He nudged her hip with his chin, shifting the heavy box between his hands.

“Maybe if you put me down I could help carry stuff.” She rolled her eyes at his antics, but she was blushing and enjoying her lovely view of his ass.

“Just enjoy the view babe.” He teased, approaching the car. “Shit you’re heavy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks honey, I love you too.”

He put the beer on top of the car and put her down, barely giving her a second to adjust to the change in gravity before he had her back pressed against the car door, fingers tunneling into her hair as he kissed her. She laughed against his mouth, running her hands over his chest, and then pushed him away gently.

“Baby,” he groaned, bumping his hips gently against hers.

“We can’t,” she shook her head, breathless. “Gotta take the beer back, then check on Clay and Hannah, drive them home, and then we can go home and–” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, mind wandering to why exactly they could do when they got home.

His eyes widened when he saw where her mind was going. “Really?” He asked, voice husky.

She nodded. “But we’ve gotta go fast, before I change my mind.”

“Fuck yes.” He lunged forward, gave her one more rough kiss, and then all but forced her into the car. He grinned as he got into the driver’s seat, right hand settling on her thigh. “I’m gonna get you home so fast your head will spin.” He promised, fingers tapping a beat against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “But after, we’re doing this shit slow.”

She laughed as he jerked the car into gear, peeling out of the parking lot. The tires actually squeaked, and she heard the beer sliding in the back seat.

“Slow down Jeff!” She laughed, grabbing the door handle for support as he took a sharp turn. “You know we have to be alive to–”

Something hit the floor, glass clinking, and she swore, twisting in her seat. Jeff slowed down considerably, both because they were approaching a busier street and because she was undoing her seatbelt.

“What are you doing?”

“The beer’s gonna fall.” She shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it, put your seatbelt on.” He looked down at her as she twisted in the seat, climbing over the plastic space between the two seats to reach the back. “Seriously babe. It’s not safe for you to be doing that. Crap.” He twisted the wheel violently to make the turn onto a backroad as they drew closer to Jessica’s house.

“Shit!” she swore. “Jeff keep your eyes on the road.”

“Maybe if you stayed in your seat you wouldn’t be bumping around back there.” He shot a look at her, getting an eyeful of her jean-clad ass. “Why am I complaining again?” He turned his attention back to the road.

“It’s fine.” She groaned, twisting back into her seat, the box of drinks in her hands. “See? I got it.” She smiled at him.

“So flexible.” He winked at her, slowing down at the intersection. “Come on baby put your seatbelt on.”

“Alright alright,” she nodded, balancing the box of beer onto the dashboard and twisting to put on her seatbelt. “You’re such a mom Jeff you know that?”

“Come on you love it.” He looked at her in the mirror as he sped up again. “But I mean, I prefer being called–”

Everything happened really fast. One second he was making an innuendo, the next another car sped through the intersection, slamming into the back of the car. They fishtailed, cars sliding on the wet asphalt, and (y/n) screamed. Jeff spun the wheel, slamming on the brakes, as the car slid towards the concrete barrier. They both jerked forward, (y/n) slamming into Jeff’s outstretched arm. The beer slid off the dashboard and slammed into (y/n)’s legs. The car slid to a stop, and they both sat there, panting.

Jeff swallowed, looking over at (y/n) who was staring at him with wide eyes. She didn’t seem aware of the sticky beer splashed across her chest, stomach and lap, or the metal can balancing on her knee. Her knuckles were white, wrapped around the armrest of the door, and all the blood had rushed from her face. He lowered his arm, resting his hand on her knee. He tightened his grip on her thigh until his hand stopped shaking.

“A-are you,” Jeff swallowed, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, still looking at him with wide eyes.

“You sure?” He looked down at the beer in her lap. “Babe you’re covered in beer.”

She nodded again. “Baby, did you–” she ran a shaky hand through her hair, “did you just soccer mom me?”

“What?” He laughed, a sharp, nervous bark, but it was enough. They both started breathing again. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the headrest, and he started running his thumb over her thigh, his other hand releasing a death grip he didn’t realize he had on the doorknob. “Holy fuck. Are you okay?”

She blinked, running her hand through her hand again. “I um, no. My legs really fucking hurt.”

“Seriously?” Jeff put the car in park and took off his seatbelt, turning in his seat. “Shit what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just– oh my god!” She pointed at the window and Jeff jumped, twisting in his seat. His heart skipped a beat when he saw an old man tap on the glass of his window. He swallowed, turning to look at (y/n), who shrugged, eyes like saucers. He turned back to the window, keeping his hand on her leg.

“Um, hi?” He rolled down the window.

“Are you alright?” The old man asked, looking onto the car with a face full of concern. “I’m so sorry! I was on the phone, I wasn’t looking, I- I’m so sorry. Are you two okay?” He leaned forward to get a closer look at (y/n), making Jeff’s grip tighten on her thigh. “Are you okay honey?”

(Y/n) nodded shakily. “Are- are you okay sir?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me sweetheart. Are you sure you two are alright?” The old man was practically shaking as he looked between the two of them, wringing phone between his hands in guilt. He reminded Jeff of his own granddad. “We should call 911.”

Jeff shook his head. His seventeen year old girlfriend was probably still a little buzzed, and he wasn’t sure what his blood alcohol content was. He knew he was okay to drive, and that he hadn’t done anything wrong, but he didn’t want to risk it. “We’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, listen I- I dented the back of your car. I should pay for the damage.” The man reached for his wallet. “I can–”

“That’s okay.” Jeff interrupted, but the man wouldn’t be stopped.

“Give me your home number at least. I’ll get in touch with your parents, we’ll figure this out.”

The man wouldn’t take no for an answer, and Jeff eventually gave in. The two swapped contact information, and Jeff called his parents, explaining what had happened and letting the man talk to them. Jeff turned his attention back to his girlfriend, who was sitting quietly in the passenger seat.

“Are you okay?” He asked, half inside the car, leaning over the driver’s seat to look at her. “You’ve got glass and crap on you.”

“I’m fine.” She nodded.

He couldn’t tear his eyes off the glass littering her lap, the drying beer and streaks of blood from where the glass had cut her up. “Baby–”

“I promise I’m okay.” She nodded again. “My eyes are up here Jeff.” He chuckled softly, more to humour her than anything else, and tore his eyes up to meet hers. They were wide and shiny with nervous tears, and he reached out and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I love you.” He said quietly, trying to put as much meaning as he could into the three words they had been tossing around casually all night. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She gave him a watery smile, squeezing his hand. “I’m okay. I promise.”

Four hours later, after the cops and ETM had cleared them to go home, and (y/n)’s parents had taken her home to pick up some stuff, she was in his room, lying on his bed. Their parents had allowed them to have a sleepover, the first one they knew about, after what had happened. It wasn’t even a dangerous accident, but everyone was freaked out. (Y/n)’s parents approved of him, and while her dad was obviously not thrilled by the sleepover, all four parents had agreed that the two of them needed this. And while Jeff wanted to convince everyone that he was fine and that nothing was wrong, he wasn’t going to argue with a parent-approved night spent with his girlfriend.

At first (y/n) had stood hesitantly in his doorway, her hands playing nervously with the strap of her duffel bag. “I um, I know we had… other plans for tonight, but,” she sighed.

“Hey,” He laughed softly, getting off the bed and walking over to her, pulling her into a hug with his right arm. His left shoulder was sore from the jerk of his seat belt. “You’re on a crapton of pain killers because of your legs, and I’ve got a sore shoulder, plus, you know, we almost died earlier, so get in my bed and cuddle with me.”

She smiled. “You’re not upset we’re not gonna do anything else?”

“My parents are in the other room with their ears to the door probably, so we weren’t gonna get much done anyway.” He shrugged. When she rolled his eyes and smacked his chest he pulled her tighter against his side and kissed the top of her head. “It’s fine baby. I just wanna hold you.”

“You’re perfect.” She mumbled, looking up at him and smiling. “I love you Jeff.”

He leaned forward and kissed her gently, sliding both arms around her waist and pulling her tight against him, ignoring the twinge of pain through his shoulder. Her hands slid up his stomach, grabbing fistfuls of the loose t-shirt he was wearing and tugging his closer. He felt her shiver against him and pulled away, looking down in concern. Her bottom lip quivered and his eyebrows drew together. “What’s wrong beautiful?”

“I–” Her voice cracked, and tears spilled out of her eyes. She hid her forehead in his chest. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I just, I–” her breath hitched. “I just can’t shake this feeling that something really bad just happened.”

“Why?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her close. “Baby we’re fine. Everything’s okay.”

“I know but– but–” she shuddered, a sob slipping free as she slid her arms around his waist.

Jeff walked backwards, pulling her with him until they reached the bed. He sat down, tugging her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She buried her face in the space where his neck met his shoulder and cried.

“We’re okay,” he said quietly, running his fingers up and down her spine. “We’re both fine. My shoulder’s gonna be sore for a couple weeks, and you’re gonna be kinda bruised, and probably not be able to wear shorts for a while, which now that I think about it is actually pretty terrible I take back everything I just said this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to us.”

She laughed, sniffling, and wiped her eyes. “Shut up dummy.”

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. “See? We’re okay.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I just, I can’t imagine losing you.”

“Well you’re not going to, so problem solved.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m not going anywhere okay baby? And I promise I’m gonna drive safer, and I’m never gonna scare you like this any more okay?”

“It wasn’t your fault.” She shook her head, wiggling out of his lap and lying down. She grabbed his snuggle-pillow and wrapped her arms around it. “It was just scary you know? I thought we were gonna hit the concrete, and I could just see it, I could see smoke, and, and blood, and you weren’t moving, and–” her eyes welled up with tears again.

Jeff lay down on his side, propping himself up on his arm. “Come here.”

She moved forward so he could wrap his arm around her waist. “I’m sorry,” she shrugged, sniffling again, “I’m okay, I’ll be fine. I just want you to hold me.”

“Well that I can do.” Jeff smiled softly, laying down on his back. “Oh wait, hang on a second.” She moved back, giving him room to sit up. He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room, then winked at her. She snorted and he wiggled his eyebrows. “How much does this make you feel better?” He asked, flexing his chest and arms.

She laughed softly. “Much better. Thank you baby.”

He lay back down, kissing the tip of her nose, and patted his chest. “Come here to me honey.” He dropped his voice and wiggled his eyebrows again. (Y/n) giggled and rested her head on top of his chest, sliding her hands around his waist and hooking one leg over both of his. He wrapped his arms around her back, one hand reaching up to play with the ends of her hair while the other rubbed soothing circles against her hip. He kissed the top of her head.

“I love you Jeff Atkins.” (Y/n) mumbled sleepily.

He hummed, his chest rumbling. “I love you too beautiful. So much. And I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

[xiaobaemoon]

Moon: A Taeil Au Part Six: Anemoia

A/N: I’m so happy with how this part turned out! There are around two parts to come and I’m so thankful for everyone sticking around and reading my writings. Please appreciate Taeil, that’s why I write this story. I might not be this accurate , but I try my best to be, so you can see what a great person he is. Have a nice day!

Word Count:1.886 Words

Anemoia: Nostalgia for a time you've never known.

Imagine stepping through the frame into a sepia-tinted haze, where you could sit on the side of the road and watch the locals passing by. Who lived and died before any of us arrived here, who sleep in some of the same houses we do, who look up at the same moon, who breathe the same air, feel the same blood in their veins - and live in a completely different world.

It rained again. The fall had started and a strong wind was blowing through your city. You walked next to your boyfriend. He was holding a black umbrella in one hand and your hand in the other one. His hand was as cold as the wind around you, yet you appreciate its heavy feeling in yours. “I will miss the rain” Taeil sighed. “I love the salty smell of it. The air seems so fresh afterwards.” A smile appeared on his face. He’d had to leave in a few weeks. You leaned your head against his shoulder. You wanted to feel his body as often as you could.  It was hard for you to imprint the feeling of his skins against yours, but you tried your best. “Let’s go and grab something to eat. I’ve reserved a table.”He placed a soft kiss on the top of your hair and closed the umbrella to open the huge wooden door of a restaurant you’ve never visited before. You knew that Taeil was full of suprises but you never imagined he would actually organize something for your sake.

The smell of freshly cooked sauces and fried vegetables caught your attention. The restaurant looked elegant and expensive. The seats were white and sparkling gold chandeliers were hanging down the ceiling. In front of you was standing a tall man in a suit. His mustache was well styled. “Welcome in our restaurant. Did you reserve a table? ”He asked with a deep, yet gentle voice. Taeil nodded and took a small paper out of his jacket. The man looked at the paper, nodded and smiled. “Please go that way. A waitress will come soon. Bon Appétit“ The both of you walked into the direction he showed you. A small round table was in front of you. White tablecloth was laying over the table. On it was a vase with one single red rose in it. Taeil helped you out of your coat and helped you to seat down on your white velvet chair. “This seems so expensive Taeil. Are you sure this is the right restaurant?”You were confused. Your boyfriend was a student with a part-time job at a small library, he would never have enough money to reserve a table, or to invite you to a meal at this place. Your eyes wandered around the room. Elegant dressed people were sitting everywhere and were chatting. Classical music was playing in the background. The smell of well cooked food was beguiling. All  the women were dressed in beautiful long dresses. You looked down at your jeans and white off-the-shoulder button up blouse and felt out of place. “Just relax, baby.” Taeil commanded. “You look as beautiful as always. I saved a lot of money to invite you for a meal here, so please enjoy every second of it. I wanted to give this to you as a gift, before I have to leave.” His cold hand reached after yours. His slender fingers stroke over the back of your hand. You looked at his smiling face and nodded. His deep eyes were shining. You could see how much this meant to him.

He laughed and took a look around too. “Damn, I should have dressed myself up a bit. Not everyone is blessed with beauty like you or the fake French guy with his mustache. This isn’t even a French restaurant” he added. This statement made you blush and laugh at the same time. He seemed to think the same way about the guy as you did. Speaking of him, the tall man appeared a few seconds later with a notebook and two menu cards in his hands. “Do you know what you want to drink?”His deep voice tried hard to sound charming, but his facial expression painted a different picture. He looked rather exhausted. The both of you order two bottles of sparkling water and looked inside of the menu cards.Taeil let out an impressed sigh. He decided himself quickly, as always. You needed a bit more time. The menu was full of foreign food and specialties. Everything was so expensive too! Taeil ordered a grilled fish with chanterelles and you ordered baked asparagus with a tofu-crème. You never tried asparagus before, but you always imagined it as something extremely tasty.

It’s needless to say that everything tasted even better than you had imagined. While you were so enchanted by your phenomenal dinner, Taeil could not stop talking about his food. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted” he would mumble between two bites. When you finished yours, you decided to observe your boyfriend. He had trouble cutting the fish into pieces, but very bite he managed to get, he enjoyed with his whole being. Taeil would close his eyes and make a rather quiet but definitely satisfied sound. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. He looked cute without even realizing it.After he had paid the French impersonator, you decided to go to the park. Since it was a windy fall day the park was quite empty. There were only a few children running around with hand-glides, while their parents sat on the wet grass or run after them. The both of you sat yourself on the edge of a fountain and looked into the sky.

“I love this color of the sky” you said and pointed at the endlessness above you.”It’s a mix between blue and gray. Between the darkness and the mystical light” Taeil followed your finger and looked at the sky. “You are right” he agreed.” We don’t see any colors on the moon. Our sky contains of light or darkness. I always enjoyed looking at the sky. I will miss that too.” You took a look at the face of your boyfriend. For your surprise he was still smiling. Whenever he talked about his home he seemed so happy. He must have missed it really much. He never seemed sad when he talked about leaving.

Suddenly a sharp cry echoed through the park. A small girl with piggy-tails had been falling on the ground, right in front of you. She was around five years old. Within seconds Taeil took his head out of the clouds and looked at the crying child. This was the first time he did not look happy this day. With a fast motion he grabbed the little girl and seated her on his lap. “Please stop crying. Where does it hurt?”His raspy voice sounded calming. He looked concerned. The girl looked as surprised as you did. Who would have guessed that he would like children? The girl pointed at her leg, but did not end her crying. Taeil looked at her small chubby leg, and blew. The girl stopped crying and looked at him. You looked around instead. Where were her parents?

Taeil made funny faces for her and a high, but beautiful laugh seemed to lighten up the world around you three. Suddenly the girl wiggled, put her arms around the neck of your boyfriend and fell asleep. “That was easy.”Taeil smirked while brushing through her dark brown hair. Out of nowhere a beautiful young woman and a small man in a tracking suit run to you. “Mai! Thank you so much for taking care of her! She saw a butterfly and run away and we weren’t fast enough. I’m sorry for the inconveniences “the woman panted. The couple bowed and gently grabbed their child. When her mother touched her, Mai woke up and smiled sleepy. The couple thanked you again and walked away. You were glad that the child had found her parents again, but Taeil looked kind of serious. His eyes were dull and his mouth was a small line. “Let’s go home. I totally forgot I have stuff to do. I’m sorry, y/n”. His voice sounded pressed and unusual for him, but you agreed. What was going on with him?

Around 11 pm you finished your homework and walked to your window to close the curtain. You just had grabbed the red silky cotton when you noticed a silhouette sitting in front of the school. The person had his head in his palms. Its hair was messy and the figure made a miserable impression. You watched the figure slowly lifting his head, showing its side profile. You recognized it immediately and run out outside. This was not good. “Taeil, what are you doing here? “you called your boyfriend. Within seconds he turned his head in your direction. His eyes were wide open and the closer you got to him, the more details you could see. His eyes were not only deep and wide, but also teary. He was crying. You got on your knees and hugged his upper body. Taeil pressed you soft against his body and cried. You did not ask, you just let him empty himself. Sometimes this is the best thing you can do for a crying person and you knew that.

”I’m sorry, y/n” he started after finishing his cries. Your bodies were still entwined. “When I say this little girl today, I had to imagine how it’d be if the both of you would be a family In the future. I asked myself how it would be with a small child looking like you and me running around. Those thoughts made me so happy I started crying.  I miss this time without it being even real. Is this a thing? “You listened to his words and buried your head deeper into his chest. You were flustered by the way he thought of your relationship. You wanted to have a family with him. He’d be a great father, but it would never happen. “I asked if there is any way I could stay her, but I can’t. We have something like an economy crisis. They need everybody who can work. I’m so…frustrated.”He sighed. “I love you, y/n. I say this all the time, but you are so precious to me. A year ago I wanted to leave this place as fast as I could, but now I want to stay because of you. You’d be a great mother, I know that. You have a caring heart and I’m so fucking thankful for everything. “You never heard him swear, but when he did you started to tear up yourself. “ I love you too. I will miss you so much, moon-boy. I don’t know what I will do without you”you whispered into his chest.

Taeil gave you a loving kiss on your head. “Don’t call me like that. Let’s stop crying and stand up” he said. You could hear him smiling.” We should appreciate the last few weeks together, okay? No more crying till I’m leaving. “You looked at his angelic smile and stood up. “Alright” your voice was still a bit shaky. “No more crying.”

[angisam]

you wild side

Chapter 4 - The Non-Existence    

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tag chapter: underfell (au community) wolvesfell( au and charater @sanspar)

uf!sans , wolvesfell!pap, non-existence, Beartler

note: my english is bad I hope you won't have problem to read it

"Hurry up! They can't escape!" - Bearlte's shouts could be heard uncomfortably close by was a clear sign that they should accelerate the pace.

"C'mon Bossy, We should sidetrack them already! Hurry up ! "The beast growled at him complaining of the comment. Sans clung as he could to the back of the other didn't even know how he could continue to cling to him taking the strides he gave trying to dodge all the obstacles he found in the forest. Little by little the trees began to become less frequent until they disappeared almost completely, giving way to a large white meadow. "Tell me you know where we're going in?!" He looked up and smiled with total confidence - oh no ... he knew that face, Papyrus would do that face when he do madness. When he look back, he notice that Bearlte appeared with four soldiers from the forest left behind, now that there were no obstacles in between, it was only a matter of time before they were powdered. "!we have to!…. No ... you won't  be able "- Bossy increased speed in response. His grip tightened- "oh for Asgore I guess it's better than dying devoured by dogs" - in the background was observed how the land had long ago split apart in two halves; A cliff appeared before his eyes.

Each time they were closer to reaching them one could hear their tired breaths. "Stop! It's an order! "- ordered the Mighty Bear monster, but it was too late. They had already jumped the great and impressive ravine. The jump was incredibly powerful, despite that, wasn't enough to avoid the blow he received in the ribs after landing on the same edge of the other end. It was noisily painful it was so dry that the rider gave a full turn before sliding down the floor. When Sans looked up he saw Bearlte standing at one end and watching with his great and fearsome mace surrounded by four guard dogs and at the other end Pupyrus trying desperately to climb. "Damn it!" The monster skeleton rose quickly to To succor his hairy brother. I grabbed his jacket but it was too heavy for him. The other tried desperately to climb but his legs couldn't grab at anything the rock would come off at every attempt. There was a dreadful snarl and then a sharp blow to his side they both looked at the direction where it occurred and before they could really perceive that Bearlte threw their mace at the other end the ground cracked around them falling down the deep cliff.

Two days before

There is a lot of noise around him. Sans doesn't know where he is, the last thing he remembers is to have fallen asleep at the sentry station and to have woken up in a place full of smoke with people screaming nothing coordinated with a loud alarm. he was in a bad way shortened on a hard cold ground and a red light with an appearance pattern banged his eyesocker uncomfortably. Never in his life had he been so confused and sick, he felt like ... like .... It was indescribable. It was like if he had been thrown into a tornado while his ribs is hit their . He repositioned himself to sit down and made an effort to assimilate his surroundings, it was the most grotesquely realistic nightmare he had ever dreamed of. "! HERE AMONG THE SMOKE! GETTING IT "- wait ... were they referring to him? -  can hear the floors of several monsters heading towards their position -" LOOSE THE NOOSES"- oooohhhhh shit they referred to him, confused with fear and with stressed, the last thing he saw before teleporting away from wherever he  was looked up to a person tying a long stick with a bow at the premiere. Nop! Nop! Nop! The hard floor give way to the snow soft. Sans, still in his seated position, began to crawl backward until a solid wall prevented him from continuing. He tried to breathe as calmly as he could, questioning whether what he had just lived was only the product of a nightmare. Over time he forced himself to relax and inspect where he had stopped ... nice thing, he was leaning on one side of his house, between the house and the shed more concretely. It rises up little by little even having the discomfort of when it woke up in that place, bitter proof that that really happened. - I have to look for Pap- I think whatever that place is, it's something serious. He begins to walk towards the setting of his house using the wall as a support, he still feels  like a shit but gradually disappears.

When it finally arrives it he escaba in his pocket to extract the key of house. But for some reason It doesnt work "fuck ... I'm not for shit, open fucking door!" - to despair begins knocking on the door and pulling the handle almost trying to pull it out, eventually surrender, whatever, there is nobody at home. He doesn't know what time it is but there are no lights inside, his brother must be on patrol or something. Well he could wait, so he would be more relaxed and could think things through. It time to go to Grillby's.

On his way to Grillby's tavern he noticed that some monsters were watching him closely, it wouldn't be the first time that some monster was spying on him, but at that moment it was different, his eyes were to mistrustful. Sans noticed it but decided to believe that it was his imaginations so accumulated stress in such a short time, so that being watched was not something so unusual.

When he entered the bright and warm tavern, he found the same customers in their respective seats, counting the royal guards of Snowdin. That meant Papyrus would have finished his patrol hours ago .... It also meant that he would have to listen to the reprimands for not being in his station. Now more than ever he wanted a drink. But then? Where was him? Undyne. Probably called him on some matter maybe to train, well, it didn't matter, it would be late. Before going to the bar and asking for something he approached to ask Dogamy and Dogaressa to assure his theory. "Hey, do you know where my brother is now?" - Great dog tilted his head and Doggo only directed the ears to where the sound came without looking away from the fan of letters, regarding the couple looked surprised and then "You're the first one we see, surely we would remember seeing a monster as you, hehehe," replied Dogaressa. What the fuck? What did that creepy tone come to? But instead of answering he simply preferred to leave the conversation had already had too many strange things for today.

He sat at the bar in front of the flaming violet monster, which kept drying a glass with a rag. "Grillby put me the usual, you can't imagine how my day has gone" - the other simply remained silent ,silently looking behind his sunglasses- "... and what is it  the everyday?" - he frown while he kept his watch the fire "oh come Grill I'm not in the mood" - "... you're taking a lot of liberties runt " - "this is because of my tag ?, don't I always pay you ?" -they fire in front of him I stopped cleaning the glass, leaving it on the table while he was leaning one arm on the bar and the other I used it as a support to pose his head - "this is interests me now, is usually me who has to" refresh "the memory and not the Reverse, since we are what you owe me money mmm "-" ... what? ... "- his eye lights began to tremble" hey, are you bothering this appetizer? "- the other dogs laughed

the joke to Doggo. ENOUGH! A red light was the last thing they saw in the bar. Sans teleported to Waterfall, he had to find his brother, he only hoped that he and Undyne would know who he was.

he knock the door with pure terror in his hands. Out of the door came Undyne, who was looking at him with the face of few friends. Before she could say anything Sans stepped forward, "! Undyne tell me that you know where my brother is, something really fucked is going on and- "Before he could follow it the Captain she lunged at him, banging his skull against the ground. I grab him by the sweater from his lying position- "shut up! I dont get any more visits at this time of night, I don't know where the hell  your brother is. "" Undyne for Asgore, I have to find him anyway! You have to - "- Undyne put his spare hand on her Teeth without any affection, he didn't need to open his mouth to speak precisely but the message was more than clear- "I see .... He is dead "-" WHAT !? "-" you arent the first one who comes desperate asking to find a missing family member, if you haven't found him until now,so he is dead, don't have much hope "- with that explanation she get off  from above Sans and went back into houses.

He instantly got up "b-b-but I'm not- What's happening?" - again he teleported to Snowdin this time back to his house. He ran to the entrance, without expecting it, he found a giant bear monster opening the door. The little skeleton stared at him in horror, he was standing right in front of the door with a set of keys without noticing his presence. "Can I help you with something?" - well, maybe he already notice his presence - "..." - "I've never seen you around here is a bit dangerous to walk around these hours" - "I'm.. this-" "Yes? "-which I could answer-oh yeah, look me and my brother have been in that house for years but apparently no one remembers our existence-" yeah...  I'm looking for my brother, I ... em think he's in Snowdin ... in some place "- sounded  as the worst excuse in history but the other didn't seem to care or didn't notice -" I see ... "- began to rummage in his pocket -" look, I know you're worried but it isn't a good idea that monsters as you ronden at night "- the subject sack of the pocket 100 g-" W-What? "-" is for the hostal, it is at the other part of the town. There a point of transport there is behind the house in an igloo isn't lost "- where did this guy come from? Nobody gives money to strangers, the only way someone gives you money is with a beating before. "H-hey, thank you very much for your help, hehe" - "it's my job" - and with that last sentence he enter the house.

Sans kept looking at the bills that had been kind enough to give him. And if he didn't actually find his brother because he didn't exist. He had begun to tremble in his life he had been so afraid, to wake up in a strange place and never to have existed is never totally unlikely, but that is what was happening. There's something that big guy was right the nights are dangerous and he had nowhere else to go.

He intended to open the door of the hospal when he suddenly saw that in the other building the door was opened and he found another strange point to add to his day; a human .

 The human noticed his presence and gasped in surprise, more than frightened, confused.

"S-San- ..." - the human being quiet suddenly and shaking his head he stepped back without believing what his eyes were seeing, starting to run out of Snowdin.

Did that human know who he was !?