#Tried to lighten the drawing but I fear that it's still pretty dark

[effen-draws]

"You know, it's not courage to resist me, Boyd."

Rewatched Ravenous (1999) for the third time with some more friends! And. and. I still think so much about this movie my god.

When I have more time for something that isn't just a passing doodle I promise my few fellow Ravenous enjoyers that I'll finally make that mock-poster that I promised months ago o7

[yuulina-vre]

Fear - Chapter one

Summary: Y/N lives the life she always dreamed about. a job she loves, a fiancé that does everything for her, and a house she dreamed of. There are hiccups on the way, but Y/N's still pretty satisfied with where she stands in life. Though a word can be powerful, especially if it's said to the wrong person. Y/N would never have thought that she ever gets to experience how bad it can turn out. For her and the loved ones around her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: none, maybe some sexy time :)

Series Masterlist // Masterlist

The night is clear, no fog is hanging on the ground, and no clouds can be seen in the starry night sky. The headlights illuminate the trees and the street, creating shadows and figures that would scare you if you could look at them for a longer period. The window is rolled down slightly, letting the cool air whizz past and into the cabin of the car. It’s pleasantly cooling down the interior. The heat of the day slowly vanishes from the inside, the thickness of hot air slowly thinning with the fresh smell of dew. Though the fresh air tries to lighten up the inside, it still feels like there has never been any breathable air inside. Breathing feels still difficult as if trying to inhale while wearing a mask or being all snotty from a cold. The air smells like a strange mix of fresh dew in the forest around and dust from the dryness of the passing day. The sun had been its hottest in days, drying out fields and forests, increasing the unfortunate chance of fires. Rain hasn’t been around for a week now.

The still-warm temperature in the car is perfect to make someone a little tired and drowsy, the steady rumbling of the engine and soothing vibrations of the car rolling down the asphalted street just adding to it. The wind tousles my hair, ruining what’s left of my ponytail, but the suffocating feeling doesn’t vanish, nor does the tiredness that’s starting to get more and more pronounced. My eyes feel heavy, and even blinking doesn’t do any good anymore. Sighing deeply, my eyes catch the fuel gauge. Still half-filled, so a stop anytime soon isn’t necessary; never mind that the next gas station doesn’t come for miles anyway. But it would have given me the perfect opportunity to rest for a little while, maybe stretch my limbs and go for a short walk around the parking lot. If there even is one.

My eyes switch back to the dark road. Somewhere far in front of me, I can see two deer crossing the street, though they’re long gone when I pass the spot. Other than the two animals, there’s nothing to be seen except the stars. I have to admit that I have never been able to see them as clearly as here, somewhere in nowhere and far away from the light of the cities. They are the prettiest sight in a while. My fingers and toes itch to pull the car aside to a stop and just stare up at them for a while. Instantly my mind comes up with a picture of a smiling Bucky.No doubt he would point out any constellation he knew, telling me their stories and tales, so mesmerized by the stars that he wouldn’t notice me staring at him instead. He would have this glint in his eyes, this excitement that makes it difficult to look away. And even though I only understand half of what he talks about, I would be glued to his lips as they form the words, intrigued by him and his knowledge. I don’t know how it happened, but Bucky always manages to draw me in and make his interests interesting for me, too.

A yawn slips past my smiling lips, and I quickly cover it with a hand, making sure to rub the tears that formed from my eyes too. “I have to take a break before I crash.”

Quickly assessing the empty road, I pull away and to the side, stopping on the dirt next to the road. For a second, I close my eyes, engine still running, hands still on the steering wheel as if I was driving. I take a deep breath, feel the air fill my lungs, and leave it while exhaling. After opening my eyes again, I cast a quick look into the review mirror to throw a glance at the backseat. Billy is still asleep, and a glance to my right confirms that Tommy is asleep, too. Typical for them.

A smile slowly forms on my lips again. They had fallen asleep before we hardly even left the hotel parking lot.

A frown slips back on my face as I study Tommy’s sleeping face. They’re just here because I invited them because a certain someone couldn’t join. Or wouldn’t.

I asked them if they wanted to accompany me. Originally, I had to travel because of a client, so it was more of a work trip for me, but I wanted to hang a few days of vacation to it. Also, the hotel room was a four-person room. Somehow, my secretary had made a mistake in the booking.My guess is she either didn’t really look into it or took the first room that was offered on whatever website she booked my trip. Texting her boyfriend was probably more important around that time.

Well, the twins were hyped anyway, immediately all in, as the hotel was located by a nearby beach. It helped that the two had just graduated and wanted to take a trip to celebrate anyway. So, the trip was more like a present to them now, since they didn’t have to pay for anything. Also, someone had an eye on them and make sure they don’t get in trouble. It probably was the only reason why my best friend even allowed it in the first place.

Sadly, the days had gone by way too fast, and all fun had to end. Between my appointments and exhaustion, the boys managed to get me out of my room to actually have some sort of sightseeing and vacation. If not for them, I probably wouldn’t have seen anything despite the hotel room and my patient’s hospital room. So, maybe it wasn’t only me that had an eye on them.

With another tired sigh, I cut the engine, and I take my seat belt off to get out of the car. I wince as the light flickers on the moment I open the door. The damn beeping indicates that it’s open, so as fast as I can, I get out and close the door, still careful to be as silent as possible.God knows the boys need their sleep. With another glance at the two, I sigh, relieved to find them still fast asleep. Leaning against the driver’s side, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, feeling the stiffness of my limbs after sitting in one position for far too long.

The air really feels incredibly good outside of the car. The coolness hits my warm skin, making me shiver slightly. Another deep breath fills my nostrils with the fresh smell of dew in the morning, after a brief spring rain.

For a moment, I stay as I am, take deep breaths, and stare at the stars above. I recognize one or two constellations Bucky taught me about before, though their tales won’t come to my mind. The longer I stare into the abyss of darkness and the universe, I feel my body slowly sagging, my eyes growing heavy with tiredness that settles somewhere deep in my bones and mind.

How long have I been on my feet? Thirteen, maybe fourteen hours?

Briefly rubbing my left eye with my hand, I cast a look down at my watch. Half past twelve. It’s exactly fifteen hours. “Huh.” A small breathless laugh leaves my lips. Of course, I had just driven for 9 hours straight. Bucky would scold me if he knew. Safety was always important to him, mine even more so than his.

I sigh loudly, looking back up at the stars as my thoughts wander. Senses as sharp as ever. There’s the sound of a soft breeze rustling bushes a few feet away, some birds still chirp in the distance, and crickets perform their nightly songs to lure each other in. The smell intensifies. Dew and earth fill every pore of my being, giving me the comfort, I didn’t know I needed. A comfort I craved from someone else. Again, my thoughts stop at my fiancé. How nice it will be to finally see him again. I didn't know a week could be so beautiful, yet make you miss someone so badly. Even with the boys around, I felt a strange sense of loneliness.

Bucky was supposed to come with me. We had a long discussion before I asked the boys. At first, he agreed and was really looking forward to it. A week away from home, work, and responsibilities, but then... Then his stupid work got in the way. Again. An occurrence that happens more and more often now. But this time, I had enough.

"Doll, I'm sorry. I really wish I could go with you, but this is important. I have to do this! Can you understand that?" He looks at me, apologizing. His blue eyes swim with guilt and regret, pleading for me to understand and forgive. But I’m just stunned.

“So, your fucking job is more important to you? You were supposed to be on vacation, James. A vacation, you postpone three fucking times already! Thank you very much. I didn't know that I was just a millstone around your neck," I seethe at him, giving him a furious look. The best I could give him. In reality, I’m not even that angry. I’m disappointed, which feels way worse. Bucky flinches slightly. He’s not used to me shouting. Usually, I’m a calm presence in every fight, barely raising my voice, but today is different. Weeks of frustration break out of me, and I’m not really feeling up to holding back now. Not today. He raises his hands in surrender as I throw another article of clothing into my suitcase, not bothering to fold it nicely. "Y/N, I didn't-"

“What?” I turn around, head hot with anger and hurt. “You didn’t say that?! Yeah, well, congratulations, because you don’t have to say anything! You show it in plenty of other ways. Do you even know how many times this has happened now? And I don’t only mean postponing vacations but doing stuff together in general?” I stare at him as he furrows his brows, no doubt raking his brain for possible dates. “It sucks! I was really looking forward to it this time. I really believed you. Again! But you seem just not to care!"

"Sweetheart, I-" I don’t let him finish again. Angry, frustrated, and disappointed, I waved my hands back and forth.

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me! Don't even try to talk yourself out of it with one of your stupid excuses. If you don’t care, you could have at least tried to say no. But did you?"

Bucky sighs. "No, I didn't." He dropped his shoulders in defeat. Somehow, it hurts even more. I feel a pain in my chest that feels like someone’s stabbing me. Tears start to blur my sight, and I quickly blink them away. "Then that's settled." Annoyed, I close my suitcase and drag it out of our bedroom to the stairs and down to the living room. I leave it standing by the door and turn around again, heading back upstairs. Bucky’s still standing in our bedroom, brows furrowed with a sad look in his eyes. I’m almost tempted to comfort him, but this time, I won’t.

Instead, I walk back to our walk-in closet and pull out two outfits that I will need for my appointments, and put them in bags. Then I throw my jacket on and walk back down. I hear him follow me, and by the time I grab the handle of my suitcase, he’s standing behind me. I’ll turn around to say goodbye, but instead, I find myself startled. I don't recognize him at all. His hair is disheveled, probably from running his hand a thousand times through it, his eyes seem dull, and his complexion is haunted by something I can’t name. Instead of showing my surprise, I swallow past the lump in my throat and reach for my house and car keys. "Y/N, please, let's just...” I stop for a second, a great wave of sadness overwhelming me, so the next words that slip past my lips are silent. “You know, maybe getting married and all is a mistake.” I don’t look back at him. Instead, I open the front door and step out of the house and letting the door slam behind me. The second I sit in my car, pulling out of our driveway, I grab my phone and dial my best friend's number, Not even looking into the mirror to see if Bucky followed me as tears blur my vision.

I didn't give him a chance to explain, apologize or do anything else. I can remember the look on his face when I left the house without really looking at him. The pain was written in it, the fear. I hurt him very badly, and I feel guilty that I didn’t care at that moment. He’s the man I love, the one I want to marry. I should have cared, should have tried harder to understand him. I know his job is everything to him, though not more important to him than I am. Never. Even accusing him of that feels like betrayal now. “I should have said that. I wonder if he's pissed off,” I mutter silently into the night sky. My body feels tired with yet another sort of sadness. “Y/N? Are you alright?" A small, high-pitched scream leaves my lips, my hand shooting up to cover my beating heart. Unbeknownst to me, Tommy got out of the car and now looks at me. I haven't noticed the interior light of the car flickering on, nor the door open. How far away have I been?

“Yes, everything is fine. I just needed some fresh air," I say, wiping a few hairs from my face, which the shallow wind pulled there. “But we can continue now." I made efforts to open the driver's side door, trying to convince him with a smile. But Thomas isn’t stupid. Like a bolt of lightning, he flashes around the hood and places his hand on the door handle. Confused, I stare at him. "What are you doing?"

“You are tired… and sad." He adds the last part after a small pause, mustering me intensely. “I am not."

“Yes, you are. You're yawning for the second time. And that just after I got out of the car." And really, I catch myself yawning. Another thing I haven’t noticed. I raise my hand to cover my mouth as best as I can. Suddenly I feel something cold, and damp sliding down my cheeks. When did I start to cry?

“Will you tell me what’s going on? Why are you crying?" These boys really quickly recognize how you are doing. A trait that they definitely have inherited from both their parents. Though, I’m not going to drop my problems on their shoulders.

“No. I-I don't know why I'm crying. Probably the wind." I manage a small laugh, embarrassment flooding my mind.

“Okay.” He stretches the word, and I know he doesn’t believe me. Thankfully he’s smart enough to drop the topic. “Well... Anyway, please sit in the passenger seat. I'm driving."

"Hell, no! That’s out of the question!" I look at him in horror. “Your Mom is strangling me if she finds out."

“No, she doesn’t. Mom's just too careful. I'm already eighteen, and I've had my license for a year. It's going to be okay. It's only an hour or so left, right?" I had to agree with him. Wanda is a very caring person. She had had her sons at the age of nineteen and was then tragically separated from her boyfriend when the children were born. Accidents happen at all times, but him dying at the same time his children were born was just cruel. Of course, from then on, she was always cautious. Sometimes it feels like I’m a child of hers, too, even though I’m only three years younger than her.

I let out a defeated sigh, my chin sinks to my chest, and my eyes close. “Fine.” I relent, too tired to argue with his logic. I know he’s right, and if I continue driving, I’m probably crashing not even a hundred feet ahead of us. Yawning yet again, I round the hood to the passenger seat, sit down, and buckle up, before silently closing the door. The sound still ricochets through the car, startling me more than I like to admit. Meanwhile, Tommy gets into the driver's seat, starts the car, and pulls over onto the road. It probably doesn't take more than five minutes for me to fall asleep.

[boymeetsweevil]

Call me maybe

Grouping: Reader x Namjoon

Word Count: ~6.59k

Warnings/Themes: Club meet-cute AU, 1% angst +99% suggestive fluff, (legal!) alcohol consumption, language, flirting anxiety(?)

Summary: It all started with a stupid drinking game...

A/N: this is the One Direction wattpad-style fanfic that's been haunting me for so long. beware of that and the fact that this is unedited hahaha...

“You know the rules, girls. Whoever wins this round of rock-paper-scissors is It.”

You and your three friends, warm and bubbly from 2 rounds of shots at this point in the evening, assume your battle stances and stick your hands into the center of your table. Four hands make a square over the scattered layer of empty decorative shot glasses from the bar in the club.

There’s an air of electric excitement that comes with this game, lovingly nicknamed Hunter-Gathering. Whoever is It gets a target and has to pursue that target in hopes of bringing ‘home’ free drinks for everyone the rest of the night. But no matter how attractive the target is, you can't ever bring them home.

“Wait, wait!” Lia chimes in. “I can’t be It this time. I did it twice already and my ass still hurts from the last time.”

Dani nods seriously. “Fair enough. That means the odds are upped for the rest of you.”

“So, we’re just gonna ignore that ass thing,” another friend, Alexa, looks around the table with confused eyes.

“Do you actually want me to give you the details?” Lia smiles slowly at her from across the table.

Alexa’s face brightens with her own smile, worry evaporated. “You know what? I don’t! Never mind.”

The game begins and somehow you find yourself the lone rock amongst two pairs of scissors. Alexa and Dani laugh with relief because they don’t have to put in any work tonight. You roll your eyes to the heavens and silently question your karma.

“Are you ready to pick your target?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Nope!” Dani grins.

She steps forward and grabs a clean face mask out of her clutch bag and wraps it around your eyes, careful not to muss your makeup or hair. Three pairs of hands rest on your shoulders and you let them spin you lightly around a few times. Not enough to get you dizzy but just enough to make sure you don’t know what direction you’re facing anymore.

“Alright,” Dani’s voice sounds out over the music of the club. “Take your pick!”

You stick your hand out blindly and someone unties the makeshift blindfold. Everyone follows the line your hand makes all the way to a tall figure standing by the side of the bar.

He’s probably the most handsome man any of you have seen in a while. There's an intimidating aura emanating from him. You figure it's the understated all-black outfit complete with the heinously expensive watch he's wearing and the sheer height of him as he towers over people near him at the bar.

“Oh my god,” Dani whispers as you all take in the stranger’s face.

“We can finally get top shelf vodka,” Alexa pretends to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

“Not bad,” Lia hums in appreciation.

“Okay, why is everyone acting like I bagged him already?” Your voice grows high with nerves. “I'm pretty sure I have, like, a 2% chance of interesting him."

“What are you so worried about?” Dani crosses her arms at you. “Just do whatever you did to get those history nerds to help you out that one time."

"This is not the same thing. Those guys parted their hair 90/10 unironically and thought Diva Cups are for when you don't want to hold your pee when you stand in line for roller coasters."

"You're kidding," Lia gasps. You wish you were.

"Well, just pretend he's one of them anyway." Dani suggests, "Every guy is the same."

You can't argue with that logic.

“I mean, I can try flirting with him, but he’s probably so used to people throwing themselves at him. I don’t think anything I do would, like, make a dent, you know?”

“Babe, no. No—listen to me, okay?” Alexa takes you by the shoulders and forces you around so you can see how serious she is.

“Tonight is the last free night of vacation. After tonight, we have less than a day to get over our hangovers, pack up the Airbnb, and then catch our 6am flight back home to start the spring term. Our last night of freedom lies in your hands.”

“But, what if—”

“No ‘but’s. Do you see yourself? Do you see your skin in this fresh white two piece? Have you seen how your tits look in this off the shoulder top? That poor man doesn’t stand a chance!”

Lia murmurs her agreement in the background and Dani mentions something about fearing for the guy's soul. You think about the freakishly good pictures you all took in the stylish club bathroom when you first arrived.

“I see your point.”

You turn back toward the bar to review your target. He sips from a dark green bottle as he looks around at the people on the dance floor between your table and the bar. As he continues to scan the room, he locks eyes with you. You hold his gaze even though your instincts are screaming at you to duck for cover. Surprisingly, he gives a small smile and raises his bottle in salute.

"See, you got the hardest part down already. Just fake the rest until you make it."

You chance a look back in his direction only to catch him staring in the direction of the table. When he catches your gaze again, he whips his head away, cheeks tinging pink under the soft yellow lighting at the bar.

Alexa cackles and starts detailing all the drinks she wants made with the top shelf vodka. Lia and Dani discuss leaving early to go back and clean up the apartment so it’s clean in case you break the rules and bring this guy back for the night.

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little fast?”

“Aren’t you moving a little slow,” Alexa counters.

“Hold on, Lex.” Dani turns to you. “You know you don’t actually have to do this if you don’t want to, right? Hunter-Gathering is just a game, there's no pressure.”

For all their poking and teasing, you're reminded right then and there that your friends would never put you in a situation where they thought you were actually at any risk. The weight you felt on your shoulders lightens somewhat.

“No, no, I definitely still want to play, I just don’t want you guys to get your hopes up.”

“I believe in you.”

Lia bumps shoulders with you quietly. She’s not the most affectionate, so you know she really means it.

“I’ll do my best.”

You let them tweak you a little bit, fixing stray hairs and wiping away smeared lip gloss and hiking up your skirt, giving you their drink orders, before you grab your purse and phone and push in your stool.

When you finally make it to the bar, he’s in the same spot as you first found him in. He spots you once you get close enough and naturally makes room for you. You set your bag on the bar countertop before hopping up on the empty stool immediately in front of him. The movement causes your skirt to ride up even more and you’re glad you only let Lia hike it up one inch instead of three.

Dani's advice about treating this guy like any other scrub from school reverbs in the back of your head right as the nerves start to set in. With the guys in your art history class, your grade was on the line. There was no room for hesitation when you could barely draw a stick figure, much less write an essay analyzing what an old painting style could tell you about the dairy economy in a certain town like some of your classmates were doing. It was because you were desperate that you were suddenly able to transform into a femme fatale. It also helped that these guys quivered at any interaction with an adult woman.

Tonight's drinks are on the line, you tell yourself. As best you can, you try to trick yourself into entering the same mindset you were in when you would lay on the charm extra thick for the art history guys.

You let the corner of your mouth lift up in a coy smile while you survey the bar. The bartender is moving back and forth quickly to handle the high demand. A second later the girl next to you leaves her spot with a tray of 8 bright pink drinks, practically glowing in the dark. You wonder briefly if you should try to get a round of those for the table.

“—one of those before?”

His voice is deep and pleasant. When you give him a look over your shoulder, you have to suppress a gasp. Up close he's even more handsome. You really have your work cut out for you.

“What?"

"That neon pink drink," he nods back in the direction of the girl who'd taken the cotton candy pink drinks with her. "I was wondering if you'd tried them before."

“No, I haven’t,” you smile, letting your lips part slowly. His eyes dart from your painted eyes to the colored stretch of your mouth and then quickly back up. “Have you?”

“No. But I like to try new things.”

You purse your lips as if in thought, something you've seen other girls do while flirting with guys at school. “You must be pretty unpredictable, then.”

“Huh? Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He stammers a bit and nearly drops his beer bottle trying and failing to put it down. All the intimidation you felt coming from him earlier seems to have disappeared.

“I was just kidding.”

Like it has a mind of its own, your hand reaches out to rest on his arm reassuringly while you continue to laugh at him. His features clear up then and a relieved smile blooms on his face, bringing out an adorable dimple with it.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes with a good natured huff and steps into your touch.

“You seem kinda fun to tease.” You let your hand linger a little longer before finally pulling it back.

“It’s kinda fun. You're pretty good at it.”

Oddly enough, this isn't as difficult for you as you thought it was going to be. In fact, you find yourself naturally tilting your head and fixing him with an intrigued look from under your lashes. He takes the opportunity to look you over as well, a small smile on his lips.

The personal attention does make you a little nervous despite the fact that it’s positive. So you dig in your purse to avoid looking directly at him for too long and to give your hands something to do. You brush up against a tube of lip gloss, pull it out, and reapply some to your lips.

You look back at him when you realize he’s grown quiet, only to find him following the movements of the gloss brush tracing the curve of your lips, cheeks dusted pink and eyes half-closed like he's in some sort of trance.

Experimentally you press your lips together and then purse them to make sure the gloss is distributed evenly. The man doesn't blink once. Suddenly, all his expensive apparel and large stature aren’t so intimidating.

"Is there something on my face," you smirk.

He slow blinks down at your mouth twice before realizing you're speaking again. His eyes grow wide and he raises a ringed hand to rub at the back of his neck. The movement rustles the hair covering his ears, revealing their pink tips. Cute.

"Just looking."

You laugh a little at him again. He marvels at the way the club lighting dances around in your glossy smile.

"So, how come I've never seen you here before?"

"Well...it's the first time me and my friends have come here."

"I see." He pivots to face you and leans his closest elbow on the counter of the bar. "Are you guys new to the area?"

"You could say that, yeah."

He raises an eyebrow when you don’t elaborate. Without looking away, he raises his hand to signal to the bartender that he wants another drink. When the bartender runs right over, you realize this guy actually might be a big deal. Silently you pull your card out of your wallet as the bartender makes their way over. You figure you’ll have to spend some money before you can really ask someone like him to buy drinks for your table.

"What'll it be,” the bartender asks.

"Two of those pink drinks please," he says and before you can place any order the bartender zooms away.

While the bartender starts preparing the drinks, you turn toward him.

"Who said I wanted the pink drink?"

He grins down at you, a dimple now popping up in each cheek. "Who said it's for you?"

"I'm pretty sure it's for me."

"And what makes you so sure?" He takes a step closer to you.

"Just a hunch," you hum before crossing your legs.

The white fabric of your skirt hikes up your thighs again with the movement. You smooth your palms over the soft material.

"Nice skirt."

"Yeah? You like it?"

"I like it," he admits quietly.

"And the top?" You gesture toward the pair of straps on the matching tube top, manicured nails gliding over your décolletage. He wets his lips.

"The top too."

He reaches out one large hand to one of the straps that have fallen over your shoulder. The drag of his fingers against your bare arm as he fixes it makes you shiver. You lament the loss of contact when pulls his hand back.

The bartender arrives with your drinks then, startling the both of you out of the little staring competition that had spontaneously started. The pink drink seems to glow from within, topped with whipped cream and full of little round ice cubes made from some sort of darker rose syrup floating in the liquid like lava in a lava lamp. The color barely prepares you for the thick sweetness that floods your mouth on the first sip.

"Oh, that's kinda..."

He huffs a laugh around his own first swallow and nods in agreement.

"Not what you wanted?"

"It's just really sweet. You like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s alright. But—"

The way he cuts himself off has you confused for a moment before he's reaching towards you cautiously. You're not too sure what's going on until you feel the pad of his thumb swipe over the corner of your lips carrying away some of the whipped topping from the drink. Your eyes widen when instead of wiping the cream on one of the cocktail napkins available on the counter he brings his thumb to his own lips. In a fraction of a second the cream is gone, but you're left feeling a rush of fluttering warmth on the side of your mouth and in the center of your chest.

"You think your friends would like these?” He slides his drink to the side so he can lean on his elbow and turn to you again. Now's your chance.

“Um, I don’t think this is really their style.”

“What is their style?”

You rattle off their drinks of choice, making sure to mention their favorite brands with a sigh. Of course, whenever you play this game, the brands can change depending on the budget of whoever’s buying. This time, you make sure to name drop as much as possible, per Alexa's request.

“Sounds like your friends really know what they like.”

“Yeah, they have really…unique tastes.” You falter a little under his amused stare. “But we don’t always drink that way. I mean, not every bar even carries all those to begin with.”

“That’s true.” He nods. “This bar has every single of them, though. Pretty lucky, huh?”

“Yep,” you chirp. You’re not sure if you’re in trouble or not because he’s still smiling. He seems to be onto the game, but doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Well, it would be a shame not to welcome you all to the city. Get whatever you want. My treat.”

“Are you sure?”

You place your hand on his arm again and squeeze for good measure. You don’t miss the way his large bicep flexes under your touch. After a beat, he brings his hand up to grasp yours and holds it while signaling to the bartender again. You give him a blindingly bright smile and he strokes his thumb over your knuckles.

He asks the bartender to ‘take care’ of your table tonight on him, and you realize then that you’ve won the game. The victory isn't nearly as sweet as the pink drinks from earlier. The rules prohibit you from bringing him home or going over to his place. And even if it wasn't prohibited, your vacation is basically over.

“Where are you and your friends from?

You take his hand between yours and play with some of the rings on his fingers. They’re beautiful together in an eclectic way and you wonder if someone chose them for him.

“It’s a kind of small city, not like this one. It’s really just our university and then a few surrounding towns.”

“What made you guys move here then?"

"Oh, Right." You feel guilty. "Me and my friends are just here for vacation."

He blinks at you but takes the news in stride. "Well, if you want—I know the city pretty well since I have a place here—maybe I can give you a tour of the town later this week."

"I'd love that, I really would. But we're actually leaving tomorrow."

"For real?” His eyes grow wide and he looks down at your linked hands before looking over your face. You're shocked to see his features fall.

"Yeah, it sucks."

“Damn,” he smiles bittersweet at the floor. “I wish we’d bumped into each other sooner.”

“I absolutely agree," the sound of Alexa's voice rings loud in your ear.

“Uh, hello. Did you need me for something?" Your voice is high and tight as you fix her with an accusatory stare. You're not 100% positive, but it seemed like you and he were having a moment.

"No, babe, I just wanted to come over and show you my beautiful drink. I wanted to come show my gratitude to you both for making sure we have a good last night. The girls will appreciate that. Thank you, kind sir."

“Name’s Namjoon. And no need to thank me,” he smiles at the exchange between you two and sticks out his hand. Alexa daintily lays her hand in his and he lets out an incredulous laugh before playing along and raising it to his lips.

"What a gentleman," she coos before pinching lightly at the skin of your exposed back. It's a clear message just for you, telling you that there's about to be a change in plans. "What were you guys discussing?"

"I was actually about to offer up our booth. There's more than enough room for your table if you wanted to move. Me and my team—friends definitely wouldn't mind the company."

“You don’t have to do that!” You pipe up, suddenly shy. But it's quickly dashed away as Alexa pulls out her phone and opens up the groupchat.

"Let me just ask our friends if they’d like that."

You already know the answer, so you sigh quietly and gather up your card, phone, and purse. You can’t say you won’t miss the privacy from when it was just you and Namjoon, but you’re glad to be with your friends again as well.

The move from your little table to the VIP booth is lightning fast. By the time you get your own drink, Lia and Dani are already clutching their things and vibrating with excitement near the ropes leading to the VIP booth. A few of Namjoon’s friends are chatting with them from the other side of the ropes.

Once your group trickles in, you don't miss how they all arrange themselves in the booth so you're forced to sit on the end next to Namjoon with barely any space. The only options are to let one of your legs hang off the edge of the booth the whole time or sit practically half in his lap. Alexa winks at you over the first sip of her next very expensive drink.

Namjoon's friends are occupied by your friends re-telling some of the more exciting parts of the beginning of your vacation. Some story about how 'someone' lost their top while trying to jet ski. You send a weak glare to Lia as she tries to get them to guess just whose top it was. That's what you get for experimenting with spaghetti strings, you suppose.

"Do you guys like to dance," one of his friends says after a while of vibing to the music once the chatter cools down. Hoseok, you think his name was.

"Yes, definitely." Dani remarks while re-applying lip gloss. "You know who's a great dancer?"

"Who?" Hoseok looks around excitedly.

"She's gonna say me," you groan. "Which is not even true but let’s just all move down there already, no more 20 questions."

"Just one more," she pouts. "Namjoon, do you like to dance?"

He looks down at you once he's also out the booth, that little amused smile back on his lips.

"Well, it's not really part of my day job, but I don't mind it too much."

"What's your day job," you blurt out.

"I'm a...musician."

"A musician!" Alexa rushes over to you to link arms. "Did you hear that? Namjoon’s a musician."

"I don't recognize you," Lia says and Hoseok and another one of his friends burst into quiet laughter behind her.

"You definitely won't find Joon’s pics anywhere, that's for sure," one of his friends says. The rest of them dissolve into another fit of giggles.

The club lights hide the muted pink tinge his cheeks take on, and Namjoon leads the way to the dance-floor with a chagrined roll of his eyes.

"You think he's really a musician?” You whisper to Alexa and Lia. Dani is somewhere up ahead, already dancing.

"Maybe technically. Going off the way his friends keep laughing, he's probably, like, a failed SoundCloud rapper or something."

"No failed SoundCloud rapper wears Gucci like that," Lia motions with her chin to some piece of Namjoon’s outfit.

"That's true," you hum.

"Rich parents," Alexa says simply.

You and Lia consider it and then nod.

As you settle on the dance floor, you feel the rest of your nerves drift away. Lia comes over to take a selfie with you, and the two of you flirt with the camera until she's satisfied with the photos you've taken. She grabs your hand and makes a show of spinning you around and you figure that this is how the night will go before you stumble out around 2 or 3am and drunk pack for the flight home the next morning. You let her lead you back, further into the crowd before you bump into someone.

Namjoon's large hand comes to stabilize you at your waist and Lia acts like nothing happened before dancing away, phone light illuminating her sneaky smile.

"You good?" Namjoon's voice is soft in your ear.

"Y-yeah."

"You wanna dance, or should I let you go?"

Your friends shamelessly all look at the way he curves himself around you, all with their thumbs up in encouragement. You're reminded of the way you did the same a few nights prior when Dani was getting hit on by some cute guy at a different club.

At that time it felt fun hyping her up and watching her make a move, seeing how enamored this random guy was with your friend. Of course he is, you thought at the time, she's amazing. And you remember that this is probably what's driving them tonight as well with you and Namjoon.

You chance a look at him and realize that he's come to rest his cheek lightly near your temple, a soft look in his gaze as he awaits your answer.

"Sure, let's dance."

Namjoon was telling the truth when he said he wasn't all that into dancing. But he put in enough work to be able to follow you and meet you halfway while you were grinding on him to the music.

Even when you shyly stepped away after the first few dances to return to your squealing friends, you loosened up over time with more music and drinks and found yourself naturally ending up on him again. The first few songs turned into more and more and soon you were face-to-face, with his thigh wedged between yours and a heavy palm on your lower back guiding you to the beat.

You're not sure when you decided to abandon your friends and his, but at some point you did return to the booth under the guise of checking your phones. And you did check your phone first. But soon he was crowding you toward the wall by the booth and leaving you with no air of your own.

"You're really leaving tomorrow," he sighed into a bruise he was trying to leave near the hollow of your throat. "Or did you just say that because I was some creep at a bar."

"I never thought you were a creep."

He looks down at you with disbelief before getting distracted by your kiss-swollen lips.

"I mean it. I'm just a little shy sometimes."

"What do you have to be shy about when you look like this, huh?"

"Stop," you laugh lightly and look away from him.

He'd made a comment earlier about how much he liked the pristine white two piece you wore, but you'd been inching his hand up your skirt then. Now, one of his thumbs rubs an idle pattern just below the curve of your breast.

"No, but seriously. Are you actually leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The new term starts for us all in a few days."

"So, leave in a few days," Namjoon whines.

"That's not enough time to get ready for the term."

"But I'll be so alone without you."

He gives you an exaggerated pout that splits into a real smile when you snort at his stupid expression. He pulls you to him just a smidgen tighter then.

"Does this usually work with other girls?"

"I don't know. Never tried it with other girls," he frowns a little at you.

"Sure."

"You know me and the team almost went to Club BigHit last Saturday?"

"Oh, really? That's kinda funny." You try to imagine what might have happened if he'd come to the same club you went to earlier.

"Yeah," Namjoon's voice grows quiet. "If I hadn't gotten sick then we would have met last week."

"Yeah, maybe."

"You sure you can't miss a few days of the term?"

"Yes, I'm sure." You let out an exasperated laugh. "You can't really be this upset that an actual stranger is just passing through your life."

"No, I know. I just—," he lets his head fall forward until he's touching his forehead to yours. "It was like something clicked when I saw you. I feel like I need more time with you."

"Oh," your voice comes out a little breathier than you expected.

The same look that had flashed across his face when you first came up to him finally gets to rest on his features. You want to let him down gently because you really can't play catch up during the first week of school.

"Tell you what. I can't miss the beginning of the term but if you make a song with my name in it and it gets...say, 50,000 listens, I'll buy a ticket that same day and come meet you. Wherever you are."

He pins you with a look then, inquisitive and dark. His eyes scan your open expression for something, before whatever he finds passes the test. He stands up tall.

"And it just needs to have 50,000 listens?"

In your mind you were thinking it would be too lofty for a failed SoundCloud rapper, but something in his tone sounds like he's rising to the challenge and it makes you nervous. You spent a lot on this vacation, you can't afford to actually fly out so soon if he somehow managed to get the listens and call your bluff. Besides, targets are off limits.

"Um, actually make that 150,000. And it has to have my area code in it too." You rattle off the three digits to him and he quickly types your conditions into the notes app on his phone.

"Is that it?"

"That's it, I guess."

"Deal."

Namjoon pockets his phone and leans back into your space. Any worries you had clawing to the forefront of your mind vanish when he presses soft lips to yours once more.

A month passes.

You don't end up having a one-night-stand with Namjoon because it wouldn't be fair to your friends when they'd clicked with a target but didn't take them home. That and because Dani got sick on the dance floor from mixing strawberry daiquiri with one too many pink drinks. But you do pass on your full number after he very nearly begs you to give it to him while packing into a cab.

And then he never used it.

It's not that you were expecting much, but when a month passes with not so much as word from him, you figure he forgot about you and your little bet.

Then 2 months pass.

Even though you know that you only spent a fraction of a day with him, you can't help thinking about Namjoon. Namjoon and his pretty eyes and pretty words that made you think there was some sort of connection there. You realize after the first two weeks back that you don't have his number but by the time 2 months pass, you realize that was definitely on purpose.

4 months pass.

You're over it, swamped with end of term work like finals and grading and putting in hours at work. But every time your friends suggest a little fun and hooking you up with someone, every time someone asked for your number at a coffee shop, you said no. Because you're over it and you're busy and not at all disappointed for how hard you fell for the lies some failed SoundCloud rapper fed you on a vacation one time.

19 weeks pass.

You're all in Lia's apartment, basking in the first few days of the end of classes even if it means finals are a few days later. Alexa is playing her favorite playlist on the speakers and you're taking a break to get some coffee going in the small kitchenette.

While the coffee machine starts up you wander back to the main room. Alexa is leaning over to turn the music up, one of her favorite songs just now coming up.

"Who's this again," Dani pipes up from her spot on the couch. "It's that one guy's collab with the Bulletproof Girlscouts, right?"

"Yep," Alexa checks the song title before sighing. "This song is so old now."

"True, but it's my favorite one on the whole album."

"I guess it really has been two years since his last album, huh." Dani muses and then goes back to her practice problem set.

You try not to laugh at how cute Alexa looks sulking because her favorite artist hasn't put out any music in so long.

"Why don't you just play his new stuff," Lia says.

"He's on indefinite hiatus. This is as new as it gets."

Lia picks up her own phone, showing it to the group.

"He released a new single this morning."

"What!"

Alexa scrambles from her seat to grab her headphones and jam them into her phone. You all know how she gets about her music and let her have a moment to soak up the new song while you get up to check on the coffee.

It takes a few minutes to get cups out and put everything together since everyone has different tastes, so you're in the middle of pouring creamer when you hear a chorus of screams.

"Why are we screaming?"

You rush into the main room again only to be bombarded with music from the speaker, this time turned up as high as it can go. What must be the new song comes through the speaker, the bass vibrating on the ground as the speaker pumps.

"Okay, yes, new song. It's good but I don't get—"

"Just listen to the fucking bridge," Dani's voice comes out incredibly shrill as she cuts you off.

The beat surges for the bridge and suddenly the lyrics turn into the artist growling about some girl he met at the club with the prettiest little white outfit he'd ever seen. Saying something that sounds oddly like your name, although you figure that can't be right. But then the next verse has your name in it too, and the next one, and the next one.

Your feet take you to where Alexa's phone is plugged in and you pick up the phone to look at the song. It's indeed a song by her favorite artist, a prolific and mysterious rapper who's never shown his face and who'd been on hiatus from making music. The song title is simple, a small string of numbers that look suspiciously like your area code.

When you let out a tiny gasp, your friends let out more excited shrieks. You ignore them in favor of thumbing through the music app to the artist's page where the new single lies at the top of his discography. To the right of all his songs are the stream counts. Most of his older songs have a few dozen million or so. This brand new one sits at a modest 4 million, but the numbers trickle up as the app updates them in real time.

"What the hell?"

"I know!" Alexa cries, tears shining in her eyes. "I can't believe we sat in a VIP booth with him and I didn't even recognize his stupid voice!"

"What are you gonna do," Dani smiles widely at your stunned face. "Are you gonna call him?"

"I don't have his number," you say simply. Your voice comes out monotone with shock.

"You didn't get his number?" Alexa starts crying for real.

"People are blowing my phone up about this," Lia says once the song ends and begins again on a loop. "You might want to turn off your phone. It's just a matter of time until people start snooping around."

"Right."

You grab your phone from your pocket. On instinct you scan through your socials one last time before turning it off. There's a startling number of texts, calls, emails, and notifications on your social media apps. Curiosity gets the best of you and you open up one of them only to find your name trending as the top hashtag. Clicking on it brings up a bunch of tweets both from fans raving about the new song and wondering who the muse is, to random accounts with identical names in the handle all claiming to be said muse.

"Oh my god, he tweeted!" Dani shoves her phone into your hands.

As of right now [2:38pm] we're at 5.76 million streams. That's more than 150,000...

"What does that mean," she asks you.

"It means...he wants me to fly out to see him. Today."

"Oh my god."

Alexa screams again and at this point you've lost count of how many that is. Lia gets out of her chair and tucks her chin over your shoulder to read the post herself.

"You need to go," Alexa shouts. "I'll help you pack, let's go."

"What about finals?"

"Are you—are you actually thinking of not going because of finals?"

"I mean—"

"If you want me die, just say that," she does something with her mouth that looks like a manic smile.

"What Lex means to say is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I'm sure even the profs would understand."

You're not sure what to say. First of all, you still don't have his number. Second of all, you're not sure how to fight through all the other accounts claiming to be you to let him know you saw the song. Third, you don't even know where to fly to. Fourth—

A Twitter notification chimes from your phone and a deadly hush falls over everyone. You go to your DM inbox with shaking fingers only to find a message request from an unknown sender. When you open the request, it's from Namjoon's agency.

Good afternoon,

You are being contacted today because one of our artists wishes to meet you. If you consent to the meeting, please review the flight information and tentative itinerary below and respond with your address and contact information. Please also note that the travel plans are for today [MM/DD/YYYY], so your response at your earliest convenience would be much appreciated. If you would like to go but cannot make it today—

"Do you think they'll send a car or should I book her a ride to the airport now?" Dani turns to Alexa.

"They'll probably send one to make sure the schedule is followed."

"That's true but what about—"

Lia taps you on the shoulder, startling you out of your stupor.

"There's a convenience store two doors down. Whatever you buy we can put in one of my suitcases and you can just take that. There's probably not enough time to go all the way back to your place."

"I—yeah, okay."

7 hours later finds Alexa, Dani and Lia finished with studying for the night. The entertainment channel is playing on the TV and the three of them have their heads bent over their phones and laptops, refreshing all the major gossip sites for updates.

"Maybe she's not even there yet," Dani sighs when the page she just refreshed shows no new posts.

"Yeah, I mean we still don't even know where she is," Lia says while putting her laptop to sleep. "What if they made her sign an NDA?"

"Even if they did, she'd probably still tell us once she got there. She's probably just busy killing time on the plane."

"She's sleeping!" Alexa screams a second later.

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"Check his instagram," is all she says before frantically typing a message to you about souvenirs.

Lia looks over at Dani's phone as she pulls up Namjoon's page. The rest of the layout is bare given his up until recent hiatus and the fact that he never posted any type of selfie. The video uploaded a mere 20 seconds ago undoes all the previous minimalism of the entire account.

The post isn't even of Namjoon. It's a black and white 5 second video of the top half of your naked back and shoulders, the rest of your body covered by the sheets. One of your arms is raised to cover your head with a pillow. The only sign of Namjoon is the arm that reaches out from the bottom of the frame, making it clear that he took the video himself. His hand reaches out to trace a heart over the skin of your shoulder blade. The caption reads:

Thanks for keeping your promise

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths

This is for the lovely @clydesducktape​ and her CDT celebration challenge. Congratulations on your milestone my darling! ❤️  

I thought I was just going to write a small blurb, but it got out of hand a little, oops. I also decided to try my hand in something else entirely, namely a whole new character. I hope it’s not rubbish.  

My picks: Mythical creature - Love Potion - Blind Date

Will Miller x f!reader (eventually if I can manage a chapter two of this)

Word count 2,1k

Warnings: Predatory behaviour, dangers of date rape drugs and drugging (nothing happens, don’t worry!), alcohol, magic, mythical creatures are known, strong tension. Please let me know if I missed anything! 

Chapter 2

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you,” A deep voice rumbles behind you just as you straighten your body to get back to your drink and continue your date. Your eyes widen, flitting between your drink still on its coaster, your date who looks like he’s about to sweat through his button-up and the stranger standing to your left, one huge hand hooked around his belt buckle and the other twisted outward a little, displaying his intricate tattoos. 

He looks calm on the outside, posture all relaxed as he holds your gaze for a moment before turning his eyes to your date and you can practically see them turn into ice and stone. You follow his gaze and take in your date, how the collar of his shirt looks a tad too tight and the perspiration gathering at his hairline. He’s very nervous for some reason, you think but remain silent, waiting for more information.  

The blond stranger nods towards your drink, sitting all innocent at the bar top, water pooling around it. “Saw him drop something in your drink as you were turned away.” Despite his calmness, the voice is laced with venom, the ice in his eyes burning as he regards your date with disdain. With slow, deliberate movement, he picks up your drink and gives it a small whiff. 

“Love potion.” Two words that turn your world upside down. 

It had been a blind date, set up by your co-worker who had assured you that their friend was good and kind and cute, when you first hesitated accepting the invitation. And it had been an okay date so far, if a little lacklustre in conversation. He’d talked more about himself and his work than engaging you in conversation during your two-hour in the bar together. You’d already given up on the idea of a second date, but tried to humor yourself and him by not cutting the date short even if only to please your co-worker, trying to at least make it work. 

But to hear he’d tried to lace your drink with love potion? Oh hell no. 

“Give me the drink,” You order in a low voice, holding out your hand for it. The blond man agrees, passing the drink to you and you bring it to your own nose, picking up the notes under the alcohol. Once you are certain the stranger is indeed right and you know exactly what the potion was supposed to do to you, you turn your body to look at your date fully. 

In a flash of a movement you tip the drink upside down and pour it down his crotch, ice and all. When he yelps and jumps up cursing, trying to salvage the light chinos, you stand up as well and push the empty glass into his chest, growling in his ear.

“You absolute fucker! Next time when you try to use a potion to make someone fall into bed with you, do it with someone who doesn’t study potions for a living. Or better yet, don’t do it at all.”  

With another push at the date, you step around him, not sparing him a second glance. Your mind is screaming for you to run, hide and maybe get shitfaced at home to avoid the humiliating feeling already creeping up your spine and you rush away out the door. 

The cold air hits you full force and you need to lean back towards the brick wall, trying to gather your shields and thoughts as your mind wanders into unsavoury grounds. Had it not been for the stranger looking out for you... Like called upon, the blond man steps into your eyesight, arms loose and his posture unthreatening even when he fills the air around him with restrained power. 

“Are you alright?” 

His deep rumble feels like balm against your bleeding wounds and you lift off the wall to fully look at him again. He is taller than you, his blond hair cropped short and his full beard trimmed close to his skin but showing how full it is nevertheless. His eyes search for signs in yours and you feel your mental shield drop a bit as you drown in his blue orbs. Your hand shakes by your side when you let out a soft sigh. 

“I’ll be soon. Thank you, for what you did. I didn’t even notice.”

“He was sneaky, using the moment you checked for your phone. I’m glad I caught it, it was very fast.”

“The phone!” You exclaim and dig hastily through your pockets to find the object in question. You turn the screen to him, showing the blank email notification still up on the phone. “The bastard had this all planned. I can’t believe it.” You shake your head in disgust, another wave of cold fear running inside your veins. 

“Do you wish to report him?” 

“I don’t know…” 

“Unauthorized use of a Class B potion is a felony,” He points out casually and you have to nod at his words. It’s true and given that you could also smell the undertone of aphrodisiac potion in the drink as well tells you the man was either playing with fire combining these two potions together or had done it before and gotten away with it and he should be brought in for his offenses. 

“If only I hadn’t poured it down his pants. Now there’s only my word against his and who will believe a researcher over… whatever hell he is. I don’t even know if he is mundane or someone who practices the arts.” You feel dejected and upset at yourself. Even after all these years mingling with the supernatural you still don’t know all the clues you need to pick up upon to pinpoint someone.  

“Don’t worry, it’ll all turn alright. You have me as a witness, I have a pretty good idea on what he practices,” The stranger tells you, offering you a wry look. He holds out his hand and introduces himself as Captain William Miller, part of the Delta Force and you suck in a surprised breath. Delta is known all around as the elite of the elite, almost exclusively recruiting non-mundanes and mythicals into their ranks and if he’s made Captain within them, he must be at the top of the chain.

“You’d do that for me?” You manage to ask after introducing yourself. William, Will as he asks you to call him, give you a reassuring nod and you find yourself relaxing a little more. He steps closer and suddenly you feel tendrils of something wrap softly around you, offering you reassurance and protection. You find yourself leaning into the sensation, lowering your shields even further to enjoy them snake up your arms in soothing motions. 

Your eyes flip up to his and as they lock into place, you swear you see something red flicker in them for a second before the dark ocean-blue hue hides it. Almost like the opposite sides of a magnet, you are pulled closer to one another until your back is pressed against the wall again and he stands right in front of you. 

The tendrils are followed by his hand ghosting up near your bare arm as he cages you into the wall, one hand up over your head. “I don’t know what it is, but… Something draws me into you,” Will murmurs as his lips nearly graze your forehead. “I feel it too,” You answer him, your eyes falling shut as the sensation on your skin turns from soothing to electrifying. Something powerful hums between your bodies, just waiting to claim its prize.

He doesn’t touch you and you don’t touch him, both of you knowing unconsciously that the second you do, all bets are off. Your body calls to him and he is clearly having a tough time not answering the song. You can see how he struggles to keep his composure, his eyes flickering to your lips and your neck and back to your eyes. One of his hands curls into a fist as he breathes your scent in, his nostrils flaring at the combination of your natural musk and the bar you’ve left behind. 

You struggle against the pull too, trying to gather your shields again but it’s so hard when you want to drop them completely for him. You desperately want him to swoop down and just kiss you, erase everything and anything that is not him. It makes your head spin, the intensity of it all and you are glad of the wall offering you support and grounding you so you won’t fly away.    

“Allow me to take you home and come pick you up tomorrow? We’ll go and report the creep first thing but now I need to know you are safe. I need to keep you safe,” His voice grows husky, tender and possessive and you shiver under his whispered words. 

“Please,” you mumble, unable to deny his plea. With great effort Will pushes himself off you and steps away a little, your head clearing as the distance grows between both of you. It seems to have a similar effect on him as the hue in his eyes lightens. You can still feel his presence tingling in the base of your skull and you are already itching to explore your books to find more about this unexpected and intensive connection you seem to share with the handsome Captain.  

He gestures towards his car and you walk side by side to it. As the engine roars into action, you can feel the air get thicker as you are once more in close proximity. You want to open the seat belt and touch him, sink your fingers into his hair and feel the beard scratch along your chin and neck. One look at his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel tells you that you are not alone in your thoughts and it makes heat flare up inside you. 

By some miracle, or his ironclad will, he gets you home, following your quiet instructions to a tee. As you step to the curb, you feel the intensity simmer down again and file it away for later research. You turn to the open window after closing the door and offer your thanks for the ride and for catching the would-be predator. He has one hand still on the wheel anchoring himself in place, and just as you are about to turn around and walk to the front door, he speaks out your name.  

“After you’ve filed the report, can I, uh, can I take you out for a coffee?” Will sounds almost bashful as he speaks. Is he afraid you’ll deny him now that your mind is a bit clearer? You know he felt the magnitude of whatever it was surrounding your bodies earlier too. You can clearly see the remnants of it on his body pulled so tight, the muscles tense and poised to pounce under his Henley. You chuckle softly before offering an affirmative. 

“I would love that.” 

“Good! Great. Wonderful.” Will coughs to hide his eagerness. “I’ll pick you up in the morning then?” Now it’s your turn to nod, before bidding him good night. You feel his eyes tracking your every move as you walk away from the car, every cell in your body rebelling against the movement of your legs. It takes all of your concentration not to rush back but to finally open the door and step inside.

The lock clicks into place and you sigh as you rest your forehead against the wood, hoping you’d invited him in. But for now, this is for the best, you remind yourself. You have some research to do. You need to get to the bottom of this connection before anything rash can happen. No matter how much you wish for it to. 

Hours later you step into your bedroom and a soundless whisper calls to you from the window. You walk next to it and push the curtain to the side a little. Will’s car is still parked on the same spot where he left you and even if you can’t see his face, you see his figure in the front seat, reclining a little as he’s gotten comfortable.

He’s going to be there all night, you realize suddenly. It should feel creepy, but it only fills you with warmth. He’s going to keep you safe, just like he said.    

[alj4890]

All Through The Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU fanfiction. 

A/N Other than my few Bloodbound shorts, I’ve never written anything with supernatural overtones before. After receiving requests to see Liam and Riley’s story if he was a vampire, this storyline was born. Since it is set in one of my favorite books from Pixelberry, I had to include as many of the main and supporting characters as I could. The following chapters will explain more where they and what our main characters are. Not going to lie, I am very anxious to step out of my comfort zone for this, but I’m also super excited to see how it goes. Along with The Royal Romance, I will be referencing and altering both The Crown and The Flame and The Royal Masquerade.

@gkittylove99​​ @krsnlove​ @kingliam2019​ @texaskitten30​ @yourmajesty09​ @mom2000aggie​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @twinkleallnight​ @lodberg​ @twinkleallnight​ @amandablink​ @neotericthemis​  @mm2305​ @sfb123​ @iufilms​​ ​ ​

Masterlist

Prologue

Once upon a time...

"Father!" Zenobia rushed down the stairwell. "Kenna is at the gates!"

King Luthor's frown deepened as he studied the places his troops had been destroyed. His hope to unite the five kingdoms and wipe off the abomination was for naught.

Kenna would not stop until he and his surviving offspring's heads were on pikes.

...until their blood filled the crystal goblets of the Dark Queen.

"What do we do?" His son, Diavolos, asked.

Luthor knew it was only himself Kenna wanted. After he had killed her mother, hoping to stop the monsters once and for all, Kenna would have her revenge.

If only he had known that she was a vampire...just like her mother.

"Listen carefully." His voice trembled at this possibly being the last time he was able to speak to his son and daughter. "A Nevarkis must always be ready to fight the creatures that prey on the weak and vulnerable."

"But..." Zenobia sniffed. "How? How can we possibly kill the unkillable?"

"She can be killed just like her mother before her." Luthor snapped. "Sunlight. A dagger to the heart. Cutting the head off." His features hardened with resolve. "Know that those are our true allies. Continue your training with daggers. Never stop being vigilant. Educate your children. And remember: where there's one vampire, many more lie in wait in the shadows."

Diavolos stepped forward and gripped his father's shoulder. "We will fight for you."

"No." Luthor corrected. "Fight for our people. The innocent. Fight for a chance to live without fear of monsters."

He cleared his throat. "If I should die--"

"Don't say that!" Zenobia screeched. "We'll be--"

"Kenna is coming for me." Luthor interrupted. "I know I must face the consequences of my actions."

"But--" Divalos lowered his head. "What are we to do?"

"Kill her." Luthor ordered. "Let your emotion be your strength." He took their hands. "And remember that a vampire is nature's evil incarnate. They will do whatever they want and kill anyone who they think is in their way." His voice turned to pleading. "Kill Kenna before she has a chance to kill you."

Zenobia nodded in a jerky manner. Diavolos swallowed with tears in his eyes.

"Good. Now prepare yourselves." Luthor pulled his sword from its sheath. "The devil herself is here."

*****************

Two years later...

Kenna cuddled her infant son, humming a lullaby.

Dom came in, a soft smile gracing his lips at the sight of his family.

"How are we this evening?" He asked, placing a kiss first on her lips then one on his son's forehead.

"A little fussy." Kenna explained. "But otherwise perfect."

"Good." Dom stretched then went to stoke the fire. "I will be going out later tonight."

Kenna's head jerked up. "Why? Are there more rumors?"

He nodded, a determined frown formed on his lips. "The Nevarkis brats refuse to let us live in peace." He moved to stand before the window that looked out toward the kingdom he had once lived in.

High in the mountains, the couple and those like them had found sanctuary. They built a kingdom, one of darkness and shadow that allowed them to live freely. He and Kenna were crowned the rulers, chosen by their people...those that were cursed as monsters.

"Si and I will be standing guard." He explained. "I will not risk you or our child."

"Dom..." Kenna pulled him close, capturing his lips in a long tender kiss. "This must end. I was foolish to let my need for revenge take over." Tears sparkled in her eyes. "Luthor might have left us alone if I had given him a chance."

Dom's face contorted into furious hatred. "A Nevarkis can never be trusted!" He gripped her waist, hands heating as he lost his temper. "He would have plunged a dagger into your heart the first chance he had."

"Dom." She said softly when he singed her clothes.

He wrenched his hands from her with a grimace. "I didn't burn you, did I?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." She tried to lighten the mood. "Just a little overheated."

He took deep breaths to get himself under control. "Stay here where it is safe." His eyes searched hers. "Have you fed recently?"

"No, but I should be fine until you return." Kenna lifted a bottle with blood for their son. "I can call on one of the servants to help me if I need to."

"Promise me you won't go outside." He pleaded.

"Only if you promise to come back to me." She responded.

His lips quirked in that cocky smile she has always adored.

"Always, my queen." He kissed her once more, then slipped out the door to search out their enemies.

******************

Present Day New York...

"Cordonia...land of both beauty and mystery." Riley wrinkled her nose. "Boring."

"No, it isn't." Hana argued. "I think that is the perfect beginning."

"Look at the comments from our last video." Riley swiveled her laptop so her friend could see. "People love our walkthroughs and all but hate my narration."

"Well..." Hana's brow furrowed. "Maybe we should try to add more to it than just narration." She pulled out some sketches. "We could add some animation of the history before showing our footage of the country."

"That might work." Riley mumbled, tapping her pen against her notebook.

The two set to work planning their next project.

After years of trying, they had finally achieved their dream of traveling for a living. The two college friends had taken every class they could on how to make their hopes into a reality. With Riley's love of history and business and Hana's talent with art and fashion, the pair had created a successful travel channel that showcased rarely visited countries and cities around the world.

Hana took care of all the shopping and dining found at their chosen destinations. Her "day trips" were hailed as must see for anyone planning a vacation. Riley took over for what could be found at night. Myths and legends blended in with what could be discovered once the sun set. A place's nightlife was thoroughly researched and reached a wide variety of their audience, causing many to plan a vacation just on her recommendations alone.

"Did your mom suggest where we should go first?" Riley asked, after skimming the same few articles about the elusive country.

"Not really." Hana hedged.

Riley glanced up. "Is she giving you a hard time again?"

"Yes." Hana slumped in her chair. "She told me to call when I was done playing tour guide."

"Geez." Riley grumbled. "Does she not realize that we have created a legit business?"

"Ladies shouldn't be involved in anything that does not pertain to their husband and family." Hana quoted. "I was supposed to have my debut to Cordonian society last year." Angry tears filled her eyes. "She still hasn't forgiven me for missing out on the Masquerade Ball."

Riley wrapped her in a comforting hug. "I'm sorry."

Hana patted her back. "Don't be. I finally feel like I can accomplish anything."

"That's because you can." Riley sat back with a grin. "Especially with planning out what we should focus on first."

Hana giggled as she went to search out some of her old books she had inherited from her grandparents. "These might help you with your part."

Riley's eyebrows lifted over the titles. "The Crown, the Flame, and The Night Queen."

"That is the earliest recorded story of vampires and monsters in Cordonia." Hana explained. "Queen Kenna Rhys and King Luthor Nevarkis both fought over uniting the kingdoms that make up Cordonia." She shook her head in disbelief. "There is a legend that Queen Kenna was a vampire that married a man who could transform into a dragon."

"For real?" Riley eagerly opened the book. "What happened?"

"Luthor died." Hana reached for another history book. "Some say it was a sword fight while others say she ripped his throat out with her fangs."

"Whoa. Either way, she sounds pretty epic."

"His son got revenge though." Hana flipped to another chapter. "He sneaked in one day and supposedly dragged Kenna into the sunlight. Before her husband could save her, she burned to ash."

"Brutal." Riley shivered. "What did the dragon do?"

Hana shrugged. "Supposedly he left with their child to protect him." She pointed at some drawings rendered from the Dark Ages. "Kenna's son came back to extract revenge. He eliminated one entire side of the Nevarkis family tree."

"And let me guess," Riley picked up another book. "The remaining Nevarkis's struck back?"

"It's supposedly been a feud for centuries between the Nevarkis and the Rhys' families." Hana pulled up an image on her phone. "Though one is currently ruling Cordonia."

Riley studied the image. "Queen Olivia Nevarkis. Looks like the Rhys lost the throne."

Hana shrugged. "There's a myth that they still rule Cordonia from the shadows."

"Mythical royal vampires, huh?" Riley laughed at the thought. "I hope I bump into one just so I can figure out who's really in charge."

Hana giggled at the thought. "You would be the only person to ask a logical, government question instead of the usual, whoa you're a real live vampire!"

Riley threw a pillow at her. "Hey! I can be calm and collected when faced with the unknown."

Hana threw the pillow back. "Tell that to the supposed haunted house we visited on our last trip." She broke out into laughter with Riley's defense that squeaking doors were the true villains. "On that note, I'm going to start packing. Our flight leaves first thing in the morning."

"I'll be ready." Riley promised.

Once alone, she flipped to a more current timeline of the supposed Dark Kingdom.

King Constantine Rhys the Third rules over what is his rightful kingdom. Rumors swirl that he is simply biding his time until he can eliminate the usurper, Queen Olivia Nevarkis, First of Her Name. The people know that one day, a Rhys will sit upon the throne, uniting the Dark Kingdom and Cordonia once and for all.

****************

Cordonia's Royal Palace, 2 a.m.

"Heeeerah! Olivia threw her daggers as hard as she could while doing a roundhouse kick.

The blades struck into the chest, head, and groin of the makeshift dummy.

She brushed the few strands of red hair that had escaped her hair clip out of her eyes. With a great deal of scrutiny, she studied her dagger placement.

"The one to the head needs to go deeper."

She spun around with a start at that all too familiar voice.

"You're late." She folded her arms and tapped her foot.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. Had to stop off for a quick bite."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "That's not funny."

"Not that kind of bite." He teased, holding up a styrofoam box.

"Oh." She blinked in surprise. "I forget that you enjoy normal food too."

He chuckled at that. "There are certain foods that I don't think any man could ever give up."

Olivia decided to ignore that as she wiped the sweat from her face and neck. "Now that you're here, let's get the formalities over with."

"Very well." Liam gestured toward her. "You may go first."

She sat down on a bench lining one side of the palace gym. She motioned for him to join her.

"Not you!" She hissed when she saw his all too familiar guard.

Drake Walker bristled at her tone. His brown eyes clashed with her green.

"Give us a moment, please." Liam asked him.

"Don't let your guard down." Drake warned. "Remember, she's a Nevarkis."

Olivia tensed. "Perhaps you should remember what happened the last time you said something like that."

She quirked one eyebrow at the man and felt a sense of glee when he winced in memory.

His hand automatically drifted to his side where one of her daggers had once struck true.

With a quick bow to Liam, Drake stepped back out into the hallway.

Liam shook his head. "Are you two ever going to get along?"

"Stop talking stupid." Olivia snapped. "Now then, as you know...I must have my revenge."

"I know." Liam folded his arms and leaned casually against a column.

She eyed him for any sign of hatred.

It drove her crazy how unvampiric he could be.

He seemed almost human.

He seemed...kind.

A vampire is nature's evil incarnate. You can never trust a Rhys.

Those words had been drummed into her skull by her parents and then her aunt after their deaths by Constantine's hand.

And yet...Liam had done the unthinkable.

He had actually been a friend to Olivia.

*************

The night after her parents' funeral, five year old Olivia had been sitting alone before the fireplace, weeping over them.

Her aunt had left her to deal with her own grief and to plan the next attack upon Constantine.

As she searched for a tissue, Olivia jumped back with a shriek at the little blonde haired boy that held the Kleenex box.

His eyes were filled with unshed tears as he handed her a tissue.

"Who are you?" She asked, remembering that a Nevarkis must always be brave.

"I'm Liam." He explained. "I wanted to...I wanted to tell you I'm sorry about your parents." He sniffed and took a tissue for himself. "My mom died too."

Olivia blinked and took a cautious step forward. "Are you...are you a vampire?!"

He nodded.

She whipped out the dagger her mother had given her and rushed at him.

Liam moved faster than she could comprehend, gently keeping her hand above her head.

"Let go of me, monster!" She ordered. "You're why I'm all alone!"

"I didn't do anything." He told her, anguish taking over his handsome features. "I don't want to hurt you or anyone."

"Liar!" She snapped. "That's what you do. Lie and kill." Her tears ran faster down her cheeks. "And now you'll kill me."

"I won't." He promised. "I swear I won't hurt you." He ignored his own tears trickling down his cheeks. His blue eyes burned with resolve. "My mother made me promise never to hurt a human."

Olivia shook her head. It had to be lies. Isn't that what vampires and monsters do? Lull you into letting your guard down so that they could have an easy kill.

"Your father will pay for what he did." She said, hoping to see his true, evil nature. "He must die!"

"I know." Liam slowly released her and took a step back.

Olivia watched in surprise as he sat down before her fireplace and pulled out a silk blue ribbon from his pocket.

He motioned for her to join him.

She slowly lowered herself down, dagger poised in her little fist in case he made a move.

"May I have your hand, please?" He asked.

He patiently waited on her to decide whether or not to give it to him.

She tentatively placed her hand in his.

His lips turned up into a relieved smile as he wrapped the ribbon over their joined hands.

"What are you doing?" She asked, lowering her dagger.

"Making a bond." He explained. "I, Liam Rhys, Crown Prince of the Dark Kingdom, promise to never seek out revenge and to end all vendettas against the Nevarkis family." His blue eyes held her green. "Just as my mother, Queen Eleanor wanted me to."

Oliva's lips parted. "You mean it?"

"I do." Liam's voice held a great deal of sincerity. "I would rather walk into the sun than not do as she asked."

"Oh." Olivia sniffed. She could understand that kind of devotion.

"Do you," Liam's cheeks colored. "Do you think we can be allies?"

"A Nevarkis will never be friends with a monster." She repeated the rhetoric that she knew by heart.

"But," Liam's shoulders slumped. "We're not all bad."

"All monsters are bad at heart."

"I'm not." He pouted. "I don't want to be."

"You're so weird." She muttered.

"Am not." Liam grumbled. "I hope I'm not."

Olivia looked down at their hands still bound together. "I guess since you promised something, I should too."

He didn't bother to hide his surprise.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I, Olivia Nevarkis, The Crown Princess of Cordonia, swear that after I kill Constantine Rhys, I will lay down my weapons." Her brow furrowed. "I'll pick them back up though if you or any other monster tries anything."

Liam's smile grew. Before she could react, he tugged her into a quick hug.

"Now we can be friends!" He cheered.

"Friends?" She shook her head. "I'm a Nevarkis and you're a Rhys. We can't be friends."

"We will be." He vowed, jumping to his feet. "I have to go before Father finds out I've sneaked out. I'll try to come back in a few nights."

Olivia didn't have a chance to tell him whether or not she wanted him to. In the blink of an eye, he had jumped from her balcony and was already out the palace gates.

*****************

That had been the beginning of Liam's visits. Through the years, he had remained true to his promise. He did all he could to befriend her and never tried to sway her from seeking vengeance.

Olivia had once asked him how he could take her threat against his father so easily.

He had merely shrugged, explaining that he knew it was the way of things. His father had killed both her parents, while he had only lost one. He hoped she didn't since he did not wish to see his father or her dead.

Olivia had then told him again how weird he was, bringing another smile to his lips.

And now here he was again, calmly taking her promised vengeance well.

"So what business brings you here tonight?" She asked.

"Father thinks it is time I chose a wife." Liam responded. "I thought you should know that I will be spending more time in your kingdom to find one."

Olivia shot up off the bench. "What? But you promised to never hurt a human!"

"And I will keep true to that." He explained.

"But..." Olivia's brow furrowed. "You'll turn her into a vampire."

"Only if she wishes it." Liam explained. "I won't force her to make such a decision."

"I see." She began to pace while thinking. "You'll have vampire children."

"Only if she's a vampire." He reminded her. "Remember my brother."

Olivia paused. She had forgotten about Leo Rhys, The Great Disappointment of the Dark Kingdom. His mother had begged Constantine not to turn her. It had never been asked before, and in his mercy he had agreed. That was when they all discovered that a monster and a human could only produce a human child. In order for the heir to the Dark Kingdom to be a vampire, both parents had to be the same being.

"And you'll be fine having human children?" She asked. "If you're chosen bride refuses the Vampire's Kiss?"

"Of course." He responded.

"Lord, you're so weird." She muttered.

His smirk flashed. "Let's hope the woman I choose doesn't think so."

"Are there no women in your kingdom you can choose from?" She asked.

"I've looked." He shook his head. "It's hard to explain, but if one doesn't have an arranged marriage, then we must search until we see the one meant for us."

"And you somehow got weirder." She brushed her hands down her pants and held one out to him. "Good luck, I suppose."

"Thank you." He grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips. "I'll keep you updated on my progress."

"There's no need."

"Of course there is." He winked at her on his way out. "We're friends."

Her lips parted to once again remind him that they couldn't be. For some reason, she decided not to say it.

Liam had somehow wormed his way into her life and had become the closest friend she had ever had.

********************

The Lee Residence, Shanghai, China...

Lorelei paled as she reread the report. 

It can’t be. Not Now!

Of all the times for this to happen, it would be when her stubborn, foolish daughter decided to visit. 

Given the nature of her relationship with Hana, she knew that there was no way she could convince her to postpone her trip to Cordonia. 

There was only one course of action left to take. She would have to call the one man who was capable of protecting her daughter. She would promise hiim anything as long as he kept Hana out of Liam’s clutches. As much as wanted her to give up this ridiculous hobby she called a job and settled down with the right sort of man, she would never put her in the path of becoming the next vampire queen. 

Setting down the packet of information from one of her informants, she checked to make certain no servant was out in the hallway and then searched for the needed phone number.

Taking a deep breath, she placed the call.

Her trepidation grew when he didn’t immediately answer.

"Hello."

"Lord Beaumont?" 

"Yes." She could hear a door closing in the background. "Who is this?"

"Lorelei Lee." She replied.

"Lady Lorelei." He responded with a recognition. "How can I help you?"

"My daughter and her friend have got it in their heads to come visit Cordonia." She began. "I'm not certain how long they intend to stay, but I was hoping that I could retain your services."

"For what exactly?" Lord Beaumont asked.

"Protection." She replied. "I have heard through certain channels that the dark prince is beginning to search for a bride." She took a deep breath. "We do NOT want our daughter anywhere near that vile creature."

"I understand." He replied. "I usually don't do personal security. With my brother, Bertrand, retired," he hesitated, "it is left up to me to help protect Cordonia's borders."

"My husband and I would be in your debt if you could watch over her in the evenings." Lorelei cajoled. "I've heard that your brother is planning on extending his vineyards. We would be more than happy to invest in the production and distribution of his sparkling wine. Perhaps even let it be the only sparkling wine we serve in our hotels."

"Send me her information and picture. Call her and tell her that since our family is an old friend of yours, that I've volunteered to show them around. Find out where she's staying and when she plans on arriving."

"Oh thank you, my lord. We--"

"I'll also need a contract prepared and signed for all that you offered." He added.

"Yes of course. I'll get everything to you at once." She promised.

Once he ended the call, she sank back down onto her chair. 

She bowed her head and began to pray that her daughter came to no harm these next few weeks. To lose Hana to one of the many creatures that roamed the night in Cordonia was too horrible to even contemplate.

If anyone could keep her daughter safe then it was none other than Lord Maxwell Beaumont.

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter 10

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, grief, loss and some second base action.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who reads, re-reads, points out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

May the flowers remind us why the rain was so necessary - Xan Oku

Chapter 10

Your eyes fly open - heart pounding, mouth dry- as the nighttime movie that played behind your eyelids finishes abruptly. Hugging your arms around yourself, you try to steady the impact of that injection of adrenaline into your veins, drawing deep breaths into your lungs as you gaze into the oil slick of darkness surrounding you. The sounds of day are yet to kick into being as your phone screen illuminates 03:02 - the trains not yet pulling out of their sidings, sirens still silenced for the most part. The night air is just punctuated by the rhythmic pitter patter of rain upon the roof and the sweetest little snores still rising steadily from your…

Your boss.

For fucks sake.

Once could be called a mistake, even if it was a twelve year long one. But back doing this shit again? Sheer fucking stupidity. Your head drops into your hands as a stab of pain cuts through your gut. What the fuck do you do now? Marcus so honestly put his heart on a platter for you last night- could you be the cold hearted, callous bitch that throws it back in his face? All of your body fizzes with fear - your muscles twitching with the cortisol so rather than irritate him with your fidgeting, you slide out of his bed.

Bare soles on the night-cooled wooden floors help to ground your flighty soul as you walk around the unfamiliar apartment. Whilst the exterior dampness can only come as far as pretty patterns on the window pane, the chill causes tiny pinprick goosebumps to stand proud against your skin. You finally settle cross-legged on the floor by the French doors leading out to the balcony, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass - mentally cheering on your favourites as they glide towards the inky pools gathering beneath them.

With your mind so lost in your new-found sport, you aren’t entirely aware of the arrival of a warm, breathing blanket that curls itself around your body languidly before you are tightly encircled by long limbs and gentle nuzzling into the side of your neck, “What’s up, honey?”

A small, precious kiss is pressed into your temple before the sleep-thick murmur continues in your ear, “Thought you’d left. So happy to find you here.”

Leaning back into his broad chest, you allow the expanse of his form that is wrapped around you to consume your body whole, “Bad dream. Couldn’t get back to sleep and didn’t want to wake you.”

“‘M sorry,” Marcus slides you slightly to his left so he can search your face for the answers that you are so incredibly reluctant to give, “Your heart is racing - do you want to talk or just have things that will make you feel better?”

Initially, you don’t feel able to catch his gaze, having thought about breaking his heart only minutes prior to his soothing arrival but when you do, everything hits you like a ton of bricks. The deep pillow creases of his cheek, sweetly mussed up hair and the earthy hues of his questioning eyes make your fist fly to cover your eyes as your tears echo the deluge of rain.

He doesn’t speak. Just holds you close. Cradling you in his arms as your body shakes into his. Marcus allows you to sit with your pain awhile - not pressuring you to speak or offering any empty platitudes to solve it- allowing the hurricane of grief to rip through you, all the while tethering you to the ground.

As the tears exhaust themselves, Marcus leaves and your eyes dance in panic at the loss of his soothing touch. The relief of hearing his kettle start to boil and then the gentle roar of taps filling a tub, stretch a ghostly pair of arms back around you, soothing the ache beneath your ribs. A hand reaches down to you offering a way out - gently hoisting you back onto your feet.

“C’mere sweetheart,” Marcus pulls you back into his chest, pressing a line of kisses along your hairline, “I’ve made you a cup of camomile tea and run you a bath.”

He makes to leave you but your haunted eyes and tight grip upon his wrist beg him to stay, “Honey, I don’t want to overstep the mark here. I’m sorry that I asked you to stay. Overwhelming you like this, isn’t fair of me.”

Trying to eloquently respond to him comes out with just a snotty sad gasp so you vehemently shake your head tugging his hand towards the bathroom. Once inside the metro tiled space - pausing between heaving breaths - you manage to squeak out in your juddery voice, “Please stay with me.”

“Please don’t feel guilty - this is just shit I need to work through,” you mumble as you fiddle with the hem of Marcus’ t-shirt, feeling his skin twitch as you accidentally make contact, “I’m sorry that it’s having a knock on effect for you.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he leans in to sweetly kiss your forehead, “I’ll turn around while you get in but I promise not to leave.”

“I don’t care if you see me naked - it’s just a body,” you mutter slightly confused by this sentiment when he’d been stroking your breasts earlier. As you start peeling off the t-shirt you’d borrowed from him, Marcus swings to face the bathroom door quickly.

“No,” the sharpness of Marcus’ response steals the air from your lungs momentarily - you stand in front of him like a rabbit caught in headlights, “I’m sorry, sweetheart - didn’t mean to be so forceful. No - it’s not just a body. It is your body and I wanna enjoy it properly when you’re not so upset. It would be taking advantage.”

Slowly lowering yourself into the delicious expanse of Marcus’ bath, you allow the warmth to soak into your aching bones. The water cocoons and hugs every inch of you as you permit it to unknit every knot of tension within your body.

“You can turn around now.”

A kind smile plays upon the deep creases set by Marcus’ eyes, “Tilt your head back.”

Reaching behind you, he turns on the shower attachment - the water bursting forth in a perfect summer rain across the skin of the bath water. Like a parent with a child, he checks the temperature until it reaches a soothing heat and runs it over your hair, soaking every last strand, washing away the mix of salt from anxious sweat and tears. Dropping the shower head in the bath, he then grabs a generous squirt of shampoo in his hands, lathering it into your scalp, massaging until you feel like a gelatinous blob under his skilful touch.

After rinsing every last bubble and sud from your hair, Marcus then squeezes out some conditioner - the bottle releasing the most indecent sound that has you both giggling like small children. Having coated his digits well, he starts to run his fingers through your hair - combing every strand with his hands, ensuring there isn’t a single knot to be found. A gentle finger beneath your chin tells you to tip your head back again as the shower rinses the excess away.

Settling back on the plush bath mat, Marcus passes you your tea silently and you just sit. Sit there in companionable silence - without an ounce of awkwardness- just both sipping tea as your body gradually accepts its need to sleep again.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Give me two minutes and I’ll be ready,” Marcus gazes softly after your disappearing form as you spin into your bedroom to get dressed for work. It takes every bit of gentlemanly restraint that he possesses not to follow you, run his hands over your silken skin and get a hit of your delicious taste. Instead he re-settles his mind by looking around your flat having finally been allowed a peek inside your inner sanctum.

He doesn’t quite know what he expects to see but it certainly isn’t this. It feels an odd mix in there- piles of cushions and blankets but no photos. No pictures decorating the place yet multiple empty frames propped against walls, waiting for their stories to be told. Your home isn’t really a home at all - it is just a roof over your head with nests for you to curl into exhaustedly.

“Have you been here long?” he asks quizzically, spying the battered moving boxes that have obviously been rummaged through for a missing necessary nick-nack or two but never having been fully unpacked. Marcus runs his hand over the coarse, corrugated cardboard and light spattering of dust coating them, wondering what secrets you wish to keep hidden in there and if you will ever open fully to him, to allow him to lighten your load.

“Almost two years,” he hears you muffledly answer through the jumper you pull over your head as you momentarily reappear in the doorway of your bedroom - a vision of radiantly soft curves- just knickers and a mess of limbs arguing with the item of clothing, before your breasts get hidden under the striped knitwear.

As much as Marcus tries to stop himself, his body takes the required steps forward so that his fingers can be satiated with the warmth of your skin. He doesn’t kiss you yet - the heat of his breath just dusts the shell of your ear as he inhales the scent of his shampoo in your hair.

“Look at you,” he murmurs - shaking his head in disbelief as he grabs your wrists and pulls you into him, “Beautiful.”

Using the back of his hand to release the hair caught in the collar of your jumper, Marcus takes a moment to drink in all your features. The flecks of gold in your eyes, the sharpness of your cheekbones, the streaks of wisdom in your hair - how were you, the beauty that you are, interested in him?

And then you’re kissing him. Your mouth open, soft lips inviting him into your inner sanctum. He feels your fingertips stroking into the nape of his neck, your nails scratching into the hair that twists and curls there. Shivers of pleasure run down Marcus’ spine, making him pull you closer as your touch sparks life across his body. Your gentle push causes Marcus to startle - to stumble backwards, falling back onto the sofa, sending cushions scuttling across the floor.

Feeling his jaw tic as you clamber into a kneeling position above him, Marcus tries to steady his breath by focussing on the small details of you. The darker spots of pigmentation where the sun has permanently kissed your skin. The divots of your collarbones just peeking above your sweater. The small reminder of a childhood misadventure just above your right eyebrow.

Nope. This is not working. God, I want her.

“Lower those goddamn hips,” he growls, “Sit down.”

“I can’t,” he hears you whimper, eyes shut tight, “I’ll make a mess of your trousers.”

Marcus groans as he considers the sweetness that is encased by those bright pink, lace edged panties - still not quite believing that it is him who has had this effect on you. When you grab his hands that have been stroking little circles by your knees and pull them to your ass, the heat in him rises as he squeezes and needles the delicious flesh beneath.

“This is gonna be hard having you work so close,” as soon as he hears the words leave his mouth, he regrets it. The little twitch between your eyebrows. The tremble of your bottom lip. The slight shift back of your weight upon his lap. Marcus catches them all.

“I’m sorry. Nush, I shouldn’t have…”

As your weight rocks back away from him, leaving his body quickly cooling with your absence, the air is punctuated with your muttering of one word over and over. Each utterance a bullet coated in guilt hitting him sharply.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Scrunching his eyes tight shut, he rocks forward, head in hands. Should he come after you? Should he leave? Fuck, Pike.

Hearing the creak of your bedroom door, Marcus lifts his head in your direction - his eyes throwing a million apologies to you, “Nush, I’m so sorry - I didn’t mean to upset you. That’s the last thing that I’d ever want to do.”

He watches as you walk across the floor - smaller shuffling steps rather than your usual confident stomp, your eyes red-rimmed and glassy and your breathing a little jagged - and feels like he’s just crushed a butterfly in his hands when all he was trying to do was appreciate its beauty. Water starts to pool in the corners of his eyes as he blinks hard to warn them off - after all, he didn’t need to give you any other reason to walk away from him. A small grateful smile creeps across his face when you settle between his knees, resting your arms across his lap - your tear-streaked face looking up at him.

“I’m frightened,” he hears you whisper, “Repeating past mistakes is sheer fucking stupidity.”

Marcus freezes, the blood in his veins turning to ice as he awaits your verdict.

“I can’t do that again. You cannot become another Jasper to me. The relationship that never was with all the hiding.”

“I don’t want us to hide,” he hears his voice betraying him as fear courses through his synapses, his hands aching to touch you. Hold you.

Please don’t let me lose her.

Please don’t let this be it.

“Can I touch you?” Marcus quietly, carefully checks before daring to reach out. He watches as a cloud of confusion washes across your face at his request.

“Of course you can. What? Hang on, did you think,” you pause, brow furrowed, “Did you think I want to stop whatever this turns out to be?”

With his shoulders slightly hunched, one hand reaching behind to rub the base of his neck, Marcus nods, “Yeah, a bit. I…”

“I don’t wanna fuck this up, Nush,” he reaches forward to stroke your wrist.

“Me neither, but we will,” your words take a moment to register with him, “We have both experienced so much - good and bad - that we will put our proverbial foot in it with each other.

“But, I hope that in time, with our collective pasts and the streaks of grey in our hair, we may also slowly learn how to communicate and say when things are a bit shit for us and why. Why my instinct is to run screaming from things and why you think everyone you love is going to leave.”

Marcus curls forward so he can rest his forehead against yours before placing a small kiss there, “Now you’re really gonna have to be two minutes if we’re gonna get to work on time. I’m just gonna shut my eyes until you’re dressed so I’m not tempted to make us late.”

“You think that’ll work?”

Chuckling at the wink you throw at him over your shoulder, Marcus starts to allow that tiny ray of hope he’s been burying for years to shine again.

✪✪✪✪✪

As Marcus opens the door for you, an overwhelming wave assaults your senses. Noises from tapping keyboards, phones ringing and computers blaring, the overwhelming scents of fatty, sugary yet discarded breakfasts and coffee hits hard but it’s the tiny, surreptitious stroke at the base of your spine gives you the kick you need to go in and start your day. A steaming coffee is thrust towards Marcus behind you and some case files are handed to you by a smiling Andy, “Morning Sir, morning Nush. What time did you manage to get cleared up?”

“Between the two of us, it didn’t take too long,” you grin at the PA before looking over your shoulder to find Marcus smiling at you, “Think I was asleep by eleven.”

“Snoring away,” Marcus barely audibly whispers, making your eyes widen.

“Ready for the meeting at nine o’clock, Sir? I have everything set up in the conference room, ready to go…” Andy sweeps Marcus away from you as you head over to your desk, spying the hot cup of Java awaiting your arrival.

New piles of paperwork seem to litter your desk, replacing the ones you’d tried so hard to clear on Friday afternoon. Office life. That it is a life is a bit of a lie, as every soul within your office space looks like it is in some stage of decomposition. Kiri appears to be in need of another weekend to get over the two days of rest just gone, Dian is yawning into her coffee and as for Harper, well, there’s a part of you that doesn’t quite believe she’s fully human with the way she’s already ploughing through her work.

When 9am finally rolls around, it feels more like two in the afternoon. Marcus sticks his head out of the door to call everyone into the meeting and is met by several groans from the team as they reluctantly shake themselves from their chairs and drag their Monday fatigued bones towards the conference room. At the oval, walnut table, you sit sandwiched between Dian and Kiri, directly opposite Andy in a hopefully not too obvious ploy to not be too close to Marcus.

“Good morning everyone, I’d ask you if you’d all had a good weekend but I think we spent enough time together to know that we all did,” a chuckle rises from your office mates as Marcus welcomes everyone, “I wanted to have a catch up this morning as the Soutine that Agent Pierce and I checked in Lyon, has come back as a definite fake. The verdict was reached late Friday afternoon and the French authorities are currently trying to trace its origins.

“We also received word this morning that a Modigliani has turned up in Sotheby’s - they have their own art fraud team but hopefully we will get a look in soon. Agent Pierce, I know I haven’t asked you to prep but could you explain to the team what the issues are around his work?”

“Sotheby’s?” you question, staring straight at Marcus and entirely ignoring his request, “I can get in there now as my best mate works in the fraud team.”

“Hephzibah?” Andy catches your eye, “Didn’t realise she’d transferred over from Scotland Yard.”

“More money,” you shrug as Andy presses his lips together and nods in agreement.

“No, Agent Pierce, I’d like us to hang back for now,” Marcus responds, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, “If you could give us some of your insight about Modigliani’s pieces, please?”

Slightly taken aback by Marcus’ firmness, you take a moment before responding, “Modigliani’s back catalogue is a fucking mess as he used to give out sketches like a fortune teller.

“Jean Cocteau said that he was drawn by Modigliani roughly fifty times but he only ever owned one picture. Prices have skyrocketed over the past decade with one going for $170.4 million dollars so he’s very much a member of the $100 million club along with Warhol, Picasso et al but not quite at their ethereal prices.

“One of the main things about Modigliani is that the love of the man is not easily separated from his art. Over the years, he has been painted as somewhat Byronesque in his exploits by salacious biographies and films - very much sex and drugs and rock n roll. A bohemian who lived in Montparnasse and Montmartre at the Fin de Siecle - he was known by all the artists who lived there at the time - Picasso even said he was the only man in Paris who knew how to dress.

“To be honest, whilst he was hot - soulful dark eyes, ebony, wavy hair and a beautiful bone structure with an extraordinary amount of intelligence and eloquence-”

“Ah, so you have a type?” Harper mutters into her notes.

Your cheeks flush and eyes dart around the room, hoping that Marcus didn’t hear that as you desperately try to summon a consummate professional performance for the others, “-It is hugely difficult to separate the man from the myth but the main issue due to his profligacy with his art, unlike the other greats who get over $100 million for their work, Modigliani’s work is often questioned. You could easily find a Modigliani in an attic with a letter attached from the man himself and people would still raise an eyebrow at it.

“So, um, the main thing according to all the auction houses is that unless it is in the catalogue curated by Ceroni, it ain’t a Modigliani. This is problematic in itself as that was published in 1958 and even some of the pieces on his list are questionable. People have ended up in prison over their dubious dealings with Modigliani’s back catalogue as you can see in the case of Parisot.

“So if a piece comes to auction that isn’t on the list, they’re damned if it is a Modigliani, and damned if it isn’t?” Dian questions you.

“Pretty much. And he worked at a time when a lot of advances and changes happened in artist’s products. In the first half of the twentieth century, both the production of paint and paper changed massively as everything was slowly more industrialised and made more stable. By industrialising these things, it made the equipment cheaper quicker as more could use it rather than being made Etsy-style in tiny batches that were way beyond the means of most artists.

“Normally, with older pieces we can look at how the artists use paints and the type of paints they use but with more modern artists everything becomes a bit murkier as it is harder to date. And I will stop there before I piss off Harper by rabbiting on too much more.”

Even Harper has the decency to smirk at your comment before returning to her notes. Marcus’s gaze has softened again as you finish speaking, “ Thanks, Agent Pierce. Perhaps we could hear from you now Agent Gleason and Youngerson?”

Harper raises her eyebrows in Marcus’ direction before starting, “So, Agent Youngerson and I have been looking at various right wing groups currently active across the world and what their links are to the art world. The main ones who have thrown up scents for us to chase are The Old School Society, Hydra and The Order.”

Dian looks up from her pad of extensive notes, “Yeah, we've been tracing money routes with those three and when looking at the main donors to these groups, they’ve all had dealings with art galleries and auction houses recently. So we’re now looking into each donor carefully and may need to do some in the field meetings with them as prospective buyers - so my darling work wife, Nush, we may need notes unless you fancy being our cover girl?” she comically winks at you. Making a little heart with your index finger and thumb, you send an equally cheesy wink and click of the tongue back at her.

Marcus huffs a chuckle out at the two of you before turning his attention to Kiritopa, “How have you been getting on with your catalogue of fakes relating to this case?”

“Yeah, alright - slow going collecting all the data as it seems some auction houses are reluctant to reveal how many fakes pass through their doors,” Kiri frowns before glugging some more coffee.

“It’s understandable, they don’t want their reputations dashed. Doesn’t make our work any easier though. Agent Morrison - if you can show me what you’ve compiled so far that’d be great,” Marcus gives the agent a small, sincere smile before turning to address the room again, “Right, I have a meeting this afternoon that’ll keep me out of the office for the rest of the day so I’ll leave you all to get on. Have a great day everyone.”

✪✪✪✪✪

You:

Hey sexy lady, I hear you’ve got a tasty little number at S’s - can I take a look?

Hephzi:

Off the books? Course you can. Change into civvies and I’ll get you in this afternoon.

You:

You’re a fucking ⭐️. I’ll make it worth your while

Hephzi:

Do you mean cake and coffee? Because if you do, I’m fucking yours.

You:

Urm obviously! See you around two?

A small knock on your desk makes you put down your phone and you look up into Marcus’ face, “Hey, you got a minute?”

“Yes, Sir,” as you push your chair away from your desk, you throw your mobile in your desk drawer and follow him into his office.

His desk is immaculately tidy and warm to the touch with its honey and caramel tones washing back and forth in undulating waves as if across a beach. There’s not a hint of Marcus in his office yet - no personal treasures - it stands in stark contrast to the warmth of the man you’re getting to know.

“I just wanted to check you were ok. I heard what Harper said,” he reaches out to straighten the ribbing at the bottom of your jumper, his thumb stroking your tummy lightly.

“She’s not wrong,” you grin lopsidedly at him as you step in closer, placing your hands on either side of his face, “Dark soulful eyes, beautifully high cheekbones, delightfully luscious lips that are perfect for kissing - hard not to fancy Modigliani, really.”

“You’re mean,” Marcus squeezes your hip as he shakes his head, “When would you like to speak to the others? I think being up front with them will help us in the long run.”

You sit on the edge of his desk, leaning back slightly, your face illuminated by your smile, “Maybe we can have our first date and then think about the long run?”

When you see the flinch from Marcus, a pang of guilt echoes through your gut as you recall your earlier conversation, “I think you’re right- once we’re truly confident we know where this is headed, we should speak up. I am not going to lose my job or risk my reputation for you… but I also already know that I don’t want to lose you either.”

“Me neither,” his hand reaches out for you, fingers entangling, thumbs stroking - eyes crinkling as they meet yours, “What are you doing for lunch?”

“Well, I was a bit distracted when I got dressed this morning - there was this really hot guy in my flat…”

“Uh huh, tell me about him,” Marcus slowly drawls, looking down at you amusedly.

“Oh you don’t want to know, Sir. Wouldn’t let me get dressed. Just kept groping me.”

“How... inappropriate of him.”

“Yeah - so I was almost late to work because of him wanting his wicked way with me and accidentally ended up putting on two different shoes.” Marcus steps away from you and having looked down, notices the one extremely dark navy and one black ballet pump with a gently shaking chest as he tries to swallow his chuckle.

“Going home to change? Your mind really must have been elsewhere,” you nod at him -slightly embarrassed by your initial genuine mistake that has now become a cover story. His gaze intensifies as he cups your face, his eyes focussing on your lips, “I’m sorry honey, I don’t think I’ll have time to drop you there and back before my meeting - will you be ok?”

“Of course, Marcus - I’ve worked here for years,” you tease him, feeling awkward as fuck when the half truth you are spinning for your boss feels awkward and bitter in your mouth.

But his kiss doesn’t. Marcus quickly closes the gap between the two of you, leaning towards you - his head tilted, lips soft and welcoming with their desire for you utterly apparent. Deepening the kiss, his mouth gently opening, tongue searching as his hands drop from your face to your waist, you find yourself forgetting to worry that anyone could walk in. Forgetting the regret of lying to him. What had you even been talking about? Should you be doing this? Fuck it. You pull him the final distance so that no air could pass between you - just you and Marcus refusing to pause for breath until your lungs run out of air.

Pulling back to gaze at him with lust blown pupils, wanting him so much more, you eventually find the energy to push away from him. Swiping at your lips with your thumb in case anyone spots the remnants of this moment as you walk towards the door on brand new baby deer legs.

“Hey Nush,” you swing back to look at Marcus, still standing, equally dumbstruck as you, before he winks with a cheeky grin, “Nice shoes.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Gripping the cardboard carrier that holds two steaming cups of black coffee in your left hand, you ring the bell to the magnificent Bloomsbury building that has sold multiple pieces of multi-million pound art. The Georgian façade is impressive in its structure and beautifully kept without a sign of peeling paint, decrying its almost 250 year history - a far cry from the shatterproof glass and steel at HQ. Hephzi opens the door to you with a wide grin upon her face, “Bang on time, missus - I swear the only way to get you places quickly, is with the promise of fine art to get you salivating!”

You can’t really respond eloquently to her as you are absorbed into the cool of the elegant building. Whilst kept modern and minimalistic, the space has retained some of its more charming period features - the cornicing and ceiling roses are still firmly in place despite the stark white of the walls. Oh, the pieces that have passed through this space! The very thought makes you tingle all over through excitement.

Currently bedecking the walls are a collection of women artists about to go up for auction the next day. To you, there was no true money in those frames - just a conversation between you, the spectator and the artist about their emotions in picture form. A discussion that spanned centuries as you follow Hephzi’s soft footsteps through the gallery, enjoying every single one from a still life of flowers surrounded by butterflies and other insects by Rachel Ruysch to one of the copies of Blinding by Tracy Emin - the upside down nude female form shaped in neon pink tubes. The artists speak through ages, through the art upon the wall, in the language of your soul.

Marcus would love it here. Oh to bring him and enjoy it together, walking through the space, hand in hand. My head on his shoulder...

“...Hello? Earth to Nushka? Ah, welcome back,” Hephzibah is shaking her head at you, “You’re here on work experience if anyone asks, yes?”

“Yup,” still only half listening to your friend, you begrudgingly continue on to her workspace in the fraud and forgeries department, reluctantly walking away from the art you long to submerge yourself in.

“Right, hand over the coffee and cake- I take payment in advance, Madam,” Hephzi demands, hand outstretched, “So tell me about the new job. What’s your new boss like?”

“Marcus is nice,” you quietly offer into the rim of your coffee.

“First names already?” Hephzibah’s eyes are round with surprise, “And you mention him before the job��� Who even are you? What have you done with the real Nush? Oh! Oh Nush, do you like him?”

You stand there blinking hard, feeling an absolute idiot for being so awkward in front of the person you call your best friend. A small, barely perceivable nod through the steam of your coffee has the arms of your best friend wrapped around you, “Nush, tell me more - has anything happened? Do you think he feels the same way?”

“I think so. Made a curry last night for the team at his flat, and ended up staying the night - nothing happ.. Well, we didn’t have sex but I think he likes me,” you nervously chatter at her before drawing a deep breath, “He’s pretty fucking amazing. Seems to be genuinely a nice guy - just straight talking, gentle, kind and holy shit is he good looking! His kisses and touches just turn me into fucking jelly.”

“Better than Jas?”

Your heart thuds in your chest so hard that there is a point where you fully expect it to wrench open your rib cage and run across the floor. You stare wide-eyed, your mouth open

“What?”

Hephzi steps forward, her gaze gentle as she places her hand on your arm, “You weren’t quite as good at hiding it as you thought you were. It was pretty obvious you were together and loved each other very dearly - I just knew that if I ever brought it up that you would run a mile.

“I tried telling you that I knew before. It was after he died and I wanted you to know that I knew it wasn’t just the death of a co-worker. Not that there’s ever any just in those situations for us either but I knew. When I asked about meeting someone the other day, it was more of me just trying to figure out if you were ready to date again.”

With that, the floodgates open and the grief flows you like a river, eroding your defences away. Hephzi holds you as you utterly soak through her expensive blouse, “I wanted to tell you so many times but I was terrified of what you’d think of me.”

“What I’d think of you - are you fucking kidding me, you absolute idiot?” she tucks your tear drenched hair behind your ears, “I’ve held your hair back in pub toilets as you’ve thrown up from too much alcohol and gotten you out of so many other scrapes but that, a relationship with a man from work is what you think I’d judge you for? Nah, that's not how any of this works, mate. Firstly, you can’t help who you fall in love with and secondly, where else are you ever going to meet someone when all you do is work?”

“N...N...Need a tissue. You made me get all snotty,” you tearfully stammer, all blotchy-face and tear streaked.

Hephzi can’t help but laugh at you blaming her for your tears. As she grabs a tissue, she also grabs the cake and the serviettes from the bag, “Come on, I know what’ll cheer you up - cake and a masterpiece.”

Following her into the studio beside her office, there it is. A supposedly lost version of Modigliani’s Nu Couché sur le Côté Gauche - her sheer sensuality rolling off her in waves. The way that she gazes out of the piece beguilingly, inviting you to join her on the bed, the sheets ruffled and rolling beneath her delicious curves.

Hephzi laughs at your reaction to the piece, “She’s hot isn’t she?”

“Yep - I’d definitely do her. I’d like to say that it is her almond eyes enticing me but really, it’s that entirely biteable bum,” you say before biting into the pastel de nata.

“Agreed - although for me, it’s her back and her thighs. They are edible - as you rightly say,” she says into her coffee.

“How’s the provenance?”

Hepzhi pulls a face as she turns back to you, “Traceable, but this one isn’t in Ceroni.”

“Shit.”

“My thoughts entirely. Look, love, I can’t let you touch it but feel free to take photos, measurements etc. As soon as my own tests come back, I promise you’ll know before the guys upstairs do,” Hephzibah asserts before sitting back on the desk in the room, “Just remember, you’re here on work experience.”

You throw a thank you over your shoulder at the rapidly retreating figure of Hepzi as you set to work. Using a Canon with a macro lens, you instantly photograph the major features and then take several overlapping pictures so that you can look close up on your computer at work. Whilst not quite a microscope, it would have to do given the circumstances. You trusted Hephzi’s sample taking but it was good to see it in person, even if Marcus had asked you to hold fire.

Whilst you were taking measurements of various points and aspects of the picture, you realised there were multiple footsteps coming up the corridor. Hephzi, obviously heard them gaining on the studio too and rejoined you, to back the story of work experience rather than letting her old friend backstage for some covert readings. She threw her notebook at you with a pencil to have the pretence of you taking notes as she worked.

“Well, Hephzibah, that is the first time I’ve ever seen you entrust your beloved notebook with anyone other than yourself. You have never even shown me the secrets you record there, and I am the person paying your salary,” a truly plummy voice cut through the room, “Whoever this work experience girl is, we will have to see about hiring her if you trust her this much.”

Hephzibah plasters a smile onto her features, “Sir, she is the best I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Such a keen eye.”

Refusing to turn around, you carry on making notes in Hephzi’s journal, attempting to concentrate on the words written in front of you, instead of the intrusion.

“So what d’ya think? On first impressions, is it real?”

Shit.

That voice.

Stepping up in response, Hephzibah firmly states, “Sir, I am terribly sorry but I am not currently at liberty to be able to fully disclose that info…”

“Oh no, it is quite alright, Hephzibah - this gentleman is Marcus Pike. He is currently fronting an investigation into white terrorism and art forgeries with 5 Eyes. One of your old lot, you know,” Hephzibah’s boss winks as if he was letting her in on the national secrecy act.

“Marcus Pike?” Hephzi shoots you a surreptitious look before the smile is back, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir. Shame we haven’t crossed paths before now.”

Marcus offers his hand in greeting to Hephzibah, “I hope we can put that right in the future. I was wondering if we could hear from your work experience person. I am always open to fresh eyes.”

Dread courses through your veins as you turn towards Marcus, not wanting to look him in the face, “It would be remiss of me to make a declaration without reading through and tracking back the provenance as well as undertaking the necessary infrared and paint samples.”

“Sensible,” Marcus nods, his face not betraying a single emotion.

Your face creases at his lack of response, something that Hephzi’s boss picks up on, “Are you alright, dear? You don’t look terribly well.”

“Sudden headache, sir. I should probably get going for today anyway,” you virtually throw Hephzi’s notebook at her before grabbing your bag, “Thank you for today, I will be in touch, Hephzibah.”

Running out of the building as fast as your feet and lungs can carry you, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

Sir Agent Marcus Pike:

Hey,

We need to talk. My office at 5?

You:

...

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319 @sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @day-off-inkyoto @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @honestly-shite @sharkbait77 @lawfulgranola @agirllovespancakes @theravenreads @lv7867 @ezrasbirdie @songsformonkeys

[pan-fangirl-345]

I'm Coming For All His Monsters

Summary: Shinso Hitoshi is determined not to make friends, but you and your friends have different plans, though Mineta seems hellbent on being the worst person in the world.

TW: panic attacks, abuse, homophobia, transphobia, discrimination, Mineta being involved in the last three, Mineta is a general trigger warning because I think the fandom collectively hates him, and I think that's it, but if I missed anything please contact me! I don't want anyone to be uncomfortable or regret clicking on one of my posts by accident!

A/N: Please for the love of all things holy, read the trigger warnings! Sorry I've been so inactive lately, I've been busier than I thought I was going to be! I'll start posting more in the following weeks hopefully!

Mineta was despised by everyone on the U.A. campus. It was a simple fact that was known by anyone who met the short perverted grape rat.

He made the girls feel like objects, and like they had to look over their shoulders every time he walked into a room.

The guys hated him for his disgusting personality and- for most of the boys in 1-A- his homophobic comments.

Mineta was the embodiment of what everyone hated in the world.

"Mineta," you warned, feeling his eyes on you as you strolled into the common room, "if you touch me, I will break your arms, do you understand me?"

Nobody was spared, whether they were female or not.

If it had boobs, Mineta was groping them, even if they were already in a relationship with someone.

Sero and Iida, along with Tokoyami and Shoji, took the brunt of the homophobic slurs (since Mineta had said something to Katsuki, who put him into the hands of Recovery Girl when he said something during training and Shouto had left him frozen for four hours in the woods after Mineta made Izuku cry).

Kaminari was spared some comments, because he played along with Mineta sometimes, and had yet to come out to that one student about being trans (everyone in 1-A had assured Denki that he didn't owe the grape rat anything, and he only had to tell the people he felt comfortable telling).

The newest victim of Mineta, was Shinso Hitoshi, the newest addition to class 1-B (and hopeful Mineta replacement).

Not only was Mineta a perv, homophobic, and transphobic, he was also a huge quirkest.

Hitoshi, after making friends with Denki and Izuku, had been spending a lot of time in the dorms.

You had been fast friends with him also, being an honorary member of the Bakusquad on account of being Eijirou's twin sister and Denki's best female friend.

For the first week or two that you had known Hitoshi, you had been worried that you made him uncomfortable.

Every time you walked into a room, he disappeared, and every time you tried to talk to him, he had avoided eye contact and bolted as soon as he could.

Until one night, when you had gone down to the common room after a nightmare, you had found him on the couch, staring a hole in the wall like it had personally offended him.

"Hey Shinso-san," you murmured, trying to announce your presence to him, but also trying not to wake anyone else up.

You saw no reaction, and called his name again, moving into his line of vision.

He tensed, and winced, at your arrival, and it made you frown.

"Why are you up?" you asked softly.

"Haven't you heard?" he replied playfully. "I'm an insomniac."

"Not after the training we had today you shouldn't be," you told him. "Everyone was so exhausted, short of the building collapsing, I don't think anyone's waking up for a while."

"You're up," he pointed out.

"I guess I'm just built different," you mused, and he chuckled, which made you smile.

"You spend too much time with Kaminari," he said.

You shrugged, sipping your water before you said, "I'm sorry. If I've made you uncomfortable, that was never my intention. I just wanted to be your friend."

Shinso tensed, glancing away from you before he pulled his legs up onto the couch, burying his face in them for a few moments before he reappeared.

"I'm sorry for making you think that you made me uncomfortable. You aren't doing that," he informed you. "I'm just . . . not used to a girl that gives me physical affection so easily. You aren't afraid of me, it's just taking some getting used to."

"Huh?" you asked, sitting on the far end of the couch, just to make sure that he had enough space. You had started to notice that he flinched when you got too close. You had an inkling about why, but you didn't want to assume anything and be wrong about it.

"I . . . I don't know how much Kaminari has told you about how I grew up-"

"Nothing," you interrupted. "Denki doesn't talk about stuff like that, especially if you've asked him not to. He might be dumb sometimes, but he's loyal."

Shinso nodded, stewing for a few quiet minutes before he said, "I wasn't raised in the most . . . stable household ever."

So you were right about your hunch then.

"Did they . . . you don't have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable, but did they hurt you?" you asked softly.

"I don't remember much about my life before my quirk appeared- just flashes here and there- but they weren't the best parents in the world."

"So that's why you flinch whenever I touch you," you murmured. "I'm so sorry. I should've stopped sooner. I figured that might be the case, but I wasn't sure."

"You don't have to apologize," he said, glancing at you. "I don't mind- when you touch me I mean- it just jumps me when it happens unexpectedly. Especially when people come up behind me."

You nodded, scooting a little closer, turning to face him completely.

"Still, I'm sorry. I know Denki and I are tactile people, and sometimes we do it without thinking, since most of our friends and classmates respond well to it. I should have noticed when you didn't."

"I don't mind when you or Kaminari touch me," he said. "I flinch because it's a natural reaction for me. I really don't mind you or Kaminari touching me. It's pretty much everyone else that's the problem."

"And yet you still kick ass in combat training," you praised, trying to lighten the mood.

Shinso had given you a small smile and a breathy laugh, and you had smiled back at him.

"I'm sorry, I never meant to make you feel like you made me uncomfortable, it's just that girls aren't really my forte. Not like Kaminari anyway."

"Kaminari can dish it out, but he can't take it. And besides, this might be just me, but that kind of flirting doesn't work. Too overused. And the way he says it, well-" you made a face and Shinso laughed. "Thank you for telling me, by the way, about your family. It means a lot to me that you trust me enough to tell me."

Shinso nodded, glancing at you.

You couldn't tell in the dark, but you were pretty sure he was blushing.

"So, Shinso-san, what do you say?" you asked, slowly reaching out a hand to him in what you hoped was a non-threatening way. "Wanna be friends?"

He nodded, taking the hand that you held out to him.

That had been the start of your friendship with Hitoshi, but as the months passed, you had realized that you feelings for the insomniac weren't entirely platonic.

But you weren't sure how Shinso felt about dating, and you sure as hell weren't sure how he felt about dating you, so you ignored them as best you could for the time being.

But then Mineta made a dumb move.

It was an unspoken rule that when one of the squads, either the Bakusquad or the Izucrew, was having movie night or a hangout in the common room, Mineta stayed in his room.

But he had come down to the kitchen to get something just in time to see you hug Shinso in welcome.

"Ugh, it's bad enough that he's interacting with us," Mineta groused, drawing attention. "But you guys have to make it worse by letting him into our dorms?"

"Shut up Mineta," you growled. "I would choose Hitoshi to hang out with 100 times out of 10 instead of you. Go be an ass in your room or better yet, throw yourself out the window."

"At least put this on him," Mineta said, tossing something to Shinso.

He frowned as he tried to figure out what the item is.

You saw him tense as he realized that it was a gag.

You saw red, zeroing in on Mineta as Shinso tensed behind you.

"You slimy son of a bitch," you whispered, hands clenching so hard your fingernails bit into your skin.

Mineta tensed, clearly sensing your rage, and he tensed even further as you slowly raised your hand and pointed it at him.

He goes pale as your quirk takes affect.

Sweat beads on his forehead, and then he started to scream.

Everyone had agreed, silently of course so that Katsuki didn't get offended, that your quirk was the most terrifying.

Being able to dig through someone's mind and implant something close to their greatest fear was something the others had been wary of before they had met you.

You usually hated using your quirk on people, but Mineta was an exception.

Ignoring the sounds of Mineta screaming, you turned your attention back to Hitoshi, who is still staring down at the gag, his hands shaking slightly.

"Hitoshi," you murmured, moving so that he can see you.

You take the gag from his hands, careful not to touch him, handing it to Katsuki, who lights it up like a dry piece of paper.

"Hitoshi," you murmured again. "I need you to blink if you can hear me."

He blinked hard, and he turned his gaze onto you, though it was glassy and terrified.

"Hitoshi, blink if you can talk," you suggested, keeping your voice level, ignoring how Mineta goes quiet in the background.

Hitoshi blinks again.

"What do you need from me?" you asked softly.

The others were clearing out, giving you space, though Denki lingered, ready to jump in too.

"Talk to me," he gasped.

"What do you want me to talk about?" you asked. "I can tell you about my day, or I can tell you about the plot of the last book I read."

"Just talk to me," he gasped.

"Alright Hitoshi," you murmured, releasing your hold on Mineta.

Denki picked the grape rat up by the color of his shirt, leaving the room once he was certain that you had the situation under control.

"Can I touch you?"

Hitoshi thought for a moment before nodding, and you slowly reached out to take his hands, linking your fingers together.

"Okay, you know how I get when I read, so you can imagine how pissed I was when my favorite character was killed off. I mean, I cried, obviously, but I was so pissed! I wanted him to live! So far he's the only good male character! He actually reminds me of you. He's got that 'too cool for you' attitude, but he really is such a sweetheart. I love him, he's such a good character too. Seriously, if he managed to fall into our world and asked me out, I would totally say yes."

Hitoshi laughed tensely, and you ran your thumbs over his knuckles in soothing circles, settling him down on the couch, turning to face him, your hands still holding his.

You attempt to pull them away once, but he tightens his grip and you adjust your grip on his hands.

"Anyway," you continued, spewing about your latest reading spree, holding Hitoshi's hands in yours, sometimes pausing to make sure that he was still okay.

Eventually his shoulders relax and he tips forward into your lap.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, turning his face away from you.

"It's okay Hitoshi," you told him, laying a hand on his shoulder, taking your hand back. "The only person who should be apologizing is Mineta. I can't believe he did that. I knew he was a bastard, but this is a whole new level."

"I never wanted you to see that side of me," he whispered.

"Hitoshi," you said, you tone making him turn to look up at you. "I don't think any less of you because of this. I don't understand everything that you went through, and I don't know your exact experience, but I do understand the feeling. If something ever triggers you like that again I need you to tell me or one of our friends, maybe find a way to remove yourself, alright?"

He nodded, looking a little relieved.

"Hitoshi, do you need to talk about it? You don't have to," you assured him, "but . . . I just want to make sure that you're okay. I have a hunch, but I'm really hoping I'm wrong."

"You probably aren't," he murmured. "My father used to gag me whenever I tried to use my quirk to stop him from hitting me."

"Oh Hitoshi," you whispered, reaching out to touch his face before you remembered and pulled back.

He sat up again, took your hands, and placed them on his face, leaning into them, a small smile spreading across his lips as your thumb caressed across his cheeks.

"You don't have to pity me," he whispered.

"Hitoshi, this isn't pity," you told him, feeling your throat close at the torrent of horrors that flashed through your mind when you thought about what he had gone through. "Yes, I'm sorry that you went through that, and I'm sorry that you didn't have the family that you deserved until later in life, but I know that it helped shape who you are. And I love who you are, okay? If I could go back in time, I would become friends with you sooner so that I could give you all the hugs and safety you needed and deserved, but unfortunately, that's not my quirk. For now, I can try to make up for all the affection that you missed out on as a younger child, and be one of the people that you can count on, even when it's three A.M. and we should both be sleeping."

You leaned your forehead against his, content to just exist in the same space as he was, breathing the same air, hoping that he understood what you were trying to say.

He shuddered under your hands as your words sunk in, but you could tell that this wasn't a bad shudder, and you pressed your hands into his cheeks a little harder so that he knew you weren't going anywhere, but not enough to hurt.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly, opening your eyes to see him already looking at you with those beautiful eyes of his that were too old for the age of his body.

"I think so," he murmured. "Thank you, for sticking up for me."

"Always," you told him fiercely. "No one does something like that to my family. Ever. Especially not him. Do you want me to do anything else? I will break his arms."

Hitoshi shook his head, holding your hands against his face, leaning into their warmth, making your heart melt.

"Will you stay with me?" he asked softly, like he was scared of making you uncomfortable.

"Always, for as long as you need me to," you promised vehemently, kissing the tip of his nose.

As Hitoshi slept on your chest that night, your hands threaded through his hair as you ran your hands through it, you made a promise to yourself.

I'm coming for all the monsters that ever touched him. I'm coming for all the ones who twisted his stars and light into shadows. They tried to turn him into a nightmare, so I am going to be theirs.

[pollylynn]

Intruder—A Caskett Future!Fic One-Shot

Title: Intruder WC: 1400 A/N: No Tell Me More tonight. (I swear, I am not trying to drag out the horrible end of this season, I just keep getting home late.) So. Future fic, because @theputz913 got me thinking about it. 

There’s an intruder in the kitchen. A clumsy, angry, foul-mouthed intruder who happens to live here. This is the sense his mind makes of far too many stimuli for this time of night. 

But it’s not night 

That’s probably his mind, too, and he can’t tell if it’s dumb or smart, if it’s helpful or otherwise. It’s probably . . . relevant. His body resents that. His body would prefer to think of his mind as misguided, misinformed, and probably a liar. But his mind probably knows what it’s talking about, even if it’s talking in obscure poetic forms or something equally indecipherable.

His feet are in league with his mind. They are shoving themselves into slippers and completely disrupting the integrity of the blanket burrito he had constructed around himself. With that ruined, he might as well let the rest of himself follow and see what’s to be done about the intruder in the kitchen. 

He can’t find her at first. It’s perplexing. He can definitely hear her. Clumsiness had turned into purposefully destructive energy and the foul-mouthedness shows no signs of letting up. He thinks at first that it’s his eyes rebelling against burrito disruption—his eyes refusing to see anything at all—but it seems to be more than just recalcitrance. 

There’s almost no light. The parts of his body that are not in league with his mind would cast a WTF? glance at the parts of it that are if only there were any part of him that could remember which parts were which, but remembering is hopeless, and anyway his mind is piping up to say that it’s not night, it’s just January. It’s just that stretch of battleship grey weeks when day is subtle to say the least. 

January seems relevant. Battleship grey seems relevant. Not night seems relevant, if only he could remember how, why, to whom. 

“I’m a morning person.” She appears suddenly from behind the breakfast bar with a clang of cast iron meeting cooktop. “I am,” she adds with a sidelong glance at the skillet she’s just slapped down. She wants the record to show there’s a weapon within easy reach. 

“Obviously.” He doesn’t mean to let that slip out. He’s not sure who or what his mouth is in league with, but he definitely did not mean to let that slip out. He’d fear for his life, but she’s slumped forward with her elbows on the counter, so unless she’s finally developed the power to murder him with her mind, he’s probably safe-ish. 

“God, Castle,” she groans and lifts a pair of pleading eyes with dark, dark smudges beneath them. “Can you . . . ?” She waves a hand at the counter behind her where, he sees now, she has a amassed a completely indiscriminate selection of things from the fridge, the cabinets, and who knows where else. 

“I can.” He snaps into action. He scurries around to the inside of counter and reaches for the elbow still planted against the granite. “And you should—“ 

Words fail him as he stands her up. Sit. That’s the word he was looking for a moment ago, but now he doesn’t know what word should follow. 

“I know.” She jerks her arm away from him. She moves as if to pull her robe defensively around her, but then she thinks better of it. She stands straight and whisks the robe back like a gunslinger about to draw. “I’m huge,” she says, and the expression on her face is this fascinating thing that’s two parts conspiratorial grin, one part murderous you-did-this glare. “I’m fucking overnight huge.” 

He wonders about the expression on his own face. He suspects it’s one part chagrin and too many parts you-bet-your-ass-I-did-that. He suspects it is the wrong expression, and the narrowing of her eyes confirms it. 

“Sit.” He swallows hard before his expression can get him into any real trouble, and takes her elbow again. The run into gridlock as he tries to move swiftly toward the couch and pillows and blankets, but she clearly wants to hover nearby as he deals with the coffee, as he cooks. “You should sit . . .” He trails off. His eyes sweep ill-advisedly between the sudden, shocking swell of her belly and  the tall stools that, when they went to bed last night, surely surely could not have looked so spindly and fragile and definitely prone to toppling over. “You should be comfortable.” 

Her face crumples. Her mood swings and his swings along with it. He can feel the exhaustion coming off her in waves. He can see that the thought of settling herself on the stool seems about as achievable as climbing Everest at the moment. 

“I wanna watch.” She sniffles. It’s an exhausted sniffle. It’s not actually a teary sniffle, just exhausted, but it bothers her anyway. Her voice drops low. “I wanna talk to you.” 

He’s frozen for a moment. He’s overcome with the sweetness of the slightly sullen admission. He wonders, not for the first time, which of the two of them is supposed to be hormone saturated here. He shakes himself out of it. 

“Wait.” He rushes by, kissing her on the nose as he passes. “Wait right there.” 

He drags the wingback chair over. He parks it just east of the oven door and runs back for the ottoman. He installs her on her relocated throne. He swings her feet up and tucks her in with blankets. She grumbles and swipes at him, but her eyes are closing on her. They’re actually closing. 

It’s convenient. It lets him work quickly. He returns the truly random objects—baking powder, leftover Italian, oyster crackers—back in their rightful places and sets the pot of half-caff to brew while she’s dozing off and works on eggs, on toast, on bacon. Her eyes flutter open every once in a while and she murmurs something that really requires no response. 

She rouses just in time, just as everything’s done, and she’s something closer to bright-eyed. She’s ravenous enough that she’s forgotten that she wanted to watch, she wanted to talk. She’s ravenous enough that she doesn’t object to the plate he brings her right there in the wingback chair, as he leans with his hip against the counter and picks at his own. 

“Tired again,” she announces when her plate is clean. There are spots of slightly miserable pink in her cheeks as she says it. She’s embarrassed, or maybe frustrated with the changes that keep coming at her fast and furious, changes that keep coming from within her. She’s too tired to lift the plate, but she grabs him by his robe when he bends over to retrieve it from her. “Sorry.” 

“No.” He tugs at her ear. A play out of her playbook. “Not sorry. Nothing to be sorry about.” 

“I’m a morning person.” She looks away. “I was going to make breakfast.” 

“Kate, you’re making a person in there.” He budges his way on to the arm of the chair and risks a drum of his fingers on the topmost curve of the bump. “I think, just this once, you can be excused from making breakfast.” 

She gives him a shrug–nod that says she’s not convinced. “This was supposed to be fun.”  He’s frozen again. He doesn’t know what to say. It’s not much of a problem. She seems to have lots to say about it. “They tell you it’s magical and indescribable.” She scowls down at herself. “It’s pretty fucking describable.” 

“Describable. As not . . . fun?”

 He gives her a thin smile. He’s trying to lighten things, which makes him feel like an ass. Maybe lightening is not what she needs. He opens his mouth to apologize, to ask what she needs, but she’s considering it. She’s still scowling down at herself, but she’s smiling, too. There’s that mixture again—conspiratorial grin plus murderous glare. 

“Some of it is.” She startles in the chair. Her eyes go wide and she has to catch her breath. She grabs for his hand and rests it on the curve of her belly. She moves. Their daughter moves like a slow-motion wave and his breath leaves the building entirely. He looks down at her, eyes wide. She smiles up, no murder at all in it now. “Some of it is so much fun.” 

[hannah-schooler]

hi hannah!! “night swimming” for the summer vibes prompts please? perhaps with some sneaky anakin and ahsoka and a very, very d o n e rex who got dragged along on one of their outrageously dumb adventures *again*??

only if you want to, of course <33

Hey Ash! Thanks so much for this prompt! I'm not saying writing this might've broken me out of my writers block, but i'm not...not saying that either.

from these prompts

Pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea

Dark stretches of shadow painted the floor of the Naboo lake house as Ahsoka made her way out of the kitchen. She cradled a mug of jasmine tea gingerly in her hands as she shouldered open the large glass doors leading to the balcony.

The war might be over but the nightmares never stopped. Even here, with the steady sound of waves lapping against the lakeshore filling the air—possibly the most at peace she’d ever been—they still haunted her.

She sighed, bracing her forearms against the cool stone railing. Padme’s lake house—though Ahsoka thought it looked more like a castle than anything—was far enough away from the city that no light pollution marred her view of the stars. Years of astronav classes and the flashcards she’d memorized had her reciting the visible planets and star systems. Almost rotely, she picked them out: Geonosis, Ryloth, Eriadu, Corellia; Naboo’s three moons; the other planets of the Chommell Sector.

They were just pinpoints of light to other people, worlds that maybe their favorite food came from, or that they heard about on the holonews. But Ahsoka had a history with each one. And each memory was steeped in blood.

“You told me the nightmares had gotten better.”

Ahsoka didn’t turn at Anakin’s approach, simply continuing to stare at the spot on the horizon where dark water turned into the amorphous black of nighttime.

“You told me the same thing.” With the twins consuming nearly his every waking moment, he was usually passing out the moment they were asleep. There were few other reasons that he’d be awake too.

He came to stand by her side, glancing down at her out of the corner of his eye. “Guess we’re both liars, then.”

She huffed a laugh, putting aside her now-cold tea.

Anakin nudged her shoulder with his own, drawing her attention back to him. His long hair—now long enough to braid, much to her own enjoyment—was sticking up in random places, and she was pretty sure he’d been wearing the same shirt for three days. But there was a lightness to his eyes and a soft set to his shoulders that she had not seen in far too long. If she’d ever seen it. She liked to think that there were moments during the war when she had been able to remove the weight for just a little while with dumb jokes and pranks, but it always came back in the end.

He was carrying his trauma a lot better than she was these days.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head.

His gaze softened and he settled his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. “You’re home now, Snips. Don’t forget that.”

They stood in silence for a little while, the fear and weariness leftover from her nightmare steadily leaking out of her in the face of Anakin’s all consuming warmth.

“I stayed here with Padme for a couple weeks right before the war started,” he said. When she looked up at him, he was watching the waves lap against the sandy shore. “She tried so hard to get me to go swim with her but I didn’t want to cross the sand.” He chuckled. “First and last time I ever thought I could win an argument with her. I was in the water within the hour.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “I can’t believe you used to be a bigger idiot than you are now.”

“Hey!”

The combination of his affronted expression and his bedhead had her doubling over in laughter. He looked like a startled bantha.

Suddenly an impish grin overtook his face. Then he was grabbing her wrist and dragging her behind him with what she was sure was Force-assisted effort, and heading toward the elegant stairs that led down to the water.

“Oh no, no, no, no. Skyguy, it's too cold!”

“Never thought I’d see the day when you were the one saying that instead of me.”

“That’s because we could go sunbathing on Jakku and you’d bring a blanket.”

Anakin just glared at her over his shoulder.

Well, if he was going to be like that… “Race you!”

Anakin spluttered as Ahsoka leapt down the stairs, rolling into a crouch at the bottom.

He tore after her, gaining on her with every step. Their laughter floated across the lake, and before Ahsoka could dive in, a massive wave crested, drenching her from head to toe.

She gasped at the icy shock, then turned around to see Anakin a few yards behind her with his arms still raised.

Ahsoka bared her fangs in a playful growl, and then Anakin was landing in the water with a splash. She waded in, up to her waist, waiting for him to surface. A few moments passed and he hadn’t come up. She scanned the water, but it had gone still once more, and even with her superior night vision, there was no sign of him.

“Skyguy?” she called. “Anakin?!”

Ahsoka sucked in a breath as something grabbed her around the waist, dragging her under the water.

She broke the surface, gasping for air, only to be met with Anakin’s unapologetic grin.

“You nerfherder!”

“Language, Snips.” But the reprimand was broken up by laughter. Ahsoka rolled her eyes as her own grin broke out across her face, soon turning into a full blown smile at their combined ridiculousness. She hadn’t felt this young in a long time, just playing in the water with her older brother.

Anakin had gone quiet, and when she looked over, he was treading water with a gentle expression on his face. It was the same one she saw when he was holding Leia; watching her babble incoherently up at him like he would move mountains to make her smile. Like he would for you, a voice in her head whispered. “There she is,” he murmured.

He maneuvered to float on his back, and after a moment Ahsoka joined him. She was looking at the stars again. But instead of her bloody history and the deaths that hung heavily on her heart, she just saw pinpricks of light forming a tapestry of kyber across the sky. Worlds full of people who were hurting just like she was, and healing all the same.

“It still hurts,” she mumbled.

“I know,” Anakin replied. Soft ripples bumped against her from the steady movement of his arms. “I think it maybe always will. But I promise you Ahsoka, I’m always going to be here for you when it gets hard.”

She smiled back at him, pushing her gratitude across their bond. “Same here, Master.”

“Do I even want to know what you two are doing?”

Pushing herself upright, Ahsoka saw Rex standing at the edge of the lake. He was shirtless, with a towel thrown over his shoulder and a bottle of water in his hand. Probably ready for a morning run. There was no telling what time it was, but the sky was beginning to lighten. They had yet to break Rex of the soldier’s habit of waking before dawn.

Ahsoka slid her eyes to Anakin at her side, her sly, mischievous gaze mirrored in his own blue eyes.

In sync, they raised their hands. Their poor Captain had no time to react before he was being flung high through the air and landing in the lake.

They dissolved into giggling fits even before Rex came up, face red. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop throwing me?!”

A couple hours later they had dragged themselves up onto the beach, the Force glowing in contentment around them. Even Anakin didn’t complain about the grains of sand sticking to their wet skin.

Ahsoka leaned against Anakin’s shoulder, prompting him to rest his head on top of hers. She wrapped an arm around Rex, giving him a squeeze.

The three of them, relics of an unjust war and carriers of history, sat on that beach and watched the sun rise on a new day. So many laid out in front of them, offering hope. Offering peace. Ahsoka let the feeling fill her and carry the nightmares away.

[cobaltusami]

Intimidating

Hey hi hello, I wrote another Gundham t word fic. I had a lot of fun with this one, And It's not as long this time! It's a miracle!

Word count: 2,003 Characters: Gundham Tanaka, Sonia Nevermind

The first few days after the beach party was odd, Everyone was wary to approach Gundham, Afraid of upsetting him by bringing up what happened at the party.

Which was thoughtful of them to be concerned about his feelings, However, Every time Gundham tried to strike up a conversation with any of the others it would quickly trail off and oozed an awkward aura.

His conversations with Hajime weren’t as awkward though, Probably because they both got wrecked with tickles that night. No one seemed to be avoiding Hajime though, Rather they just kept teasing and harassing him every chance they got.

So once again he was pretty much isolated, But maybe after seeing what was happening to Hajime that wasn’t such a bad thing.

He wasn’t completely alone though, Sonia had been spending more time with him, She probably sensed that the others were avoiding him.

“Good morning Gundham!” The Princess beamed at her friend.

Gundham pulled himself away from staring out the window to look up at her. “Good morning, Sonia.”

“Is this seat taken?”

His mismatched eyes glanced around at all the empty seats at his table. “Unless you possess the ability to see the supernatural, No they aren’t taken.”

Come to think of It, No one else was In the dining hall at all.

She giggled. “I think I would be much happier If I could see the supernatural.” She joked as she sat down at the table, Specifically the seat right next to Gundham. “Why are you sitting alone? I would have thought Kazuichi would be sitting with you as well.”

He probably will now that you’re here… He mused In thought.

“Hmph. That fool has been avoiding me since the beach incident.” He answered bitterly.

“Huh? That seems odd. You two were getting along so well.” She frowned, Why would he avoid his friend like this?

Neither of them wanted to tell her why that fight had come about to begin with, Especially not Gundham who had finally made friends.

“Who knows what’s going on In that Mortal’s head.” Gundham mumbled, Leaning forward and resting his arms against the table.

At that moment, Maga-Z, Jum-P, Cham-P and San-D popped out of his scarf and went scurrying down onto the table almost as if waiting for that exact moment, They all looked up at him for a moment.

Gundham tried to look annoyed, But broke out Into a smirk. “Yes yes, I know. You wish to visit the Dark Queen.” He mumbled amusedly as they scurried over to Sonia.

Sonia giggled as she began to pet them. “Good morning to you as well, Devas of Destruction!” She cooed.

“You know, It Is strange. You are the only one they will interact with.” He mused, Watching them.

“It must be because they sense I am not a typical Mortal, As you say.” She smiled.

“I almost think If I were to give you my scarf, They would willingly go with you instead.”

She giggled In amusement, Taking her eyes off the furballs for a moment. “Would you care to test that theory? I might give them back If they do go with me.” She teased.

“Kehehe…” Gundham chuckled, Meeting her eyes. “They would wreak so much havoc that you would be begging for me to take them back.”

Normally, He would have been very over the top saying things like that, But for some reason he wasn’t. His voice was quiet and hadn’t spiked in volume at all. Leaving Sonia to theorize that he may be feeling down due to being isolated.

He almost sounded tired, Too.

“Well, Let us see then.” She smirked. Without taking his eyes off of her, He removed his scarf and handed It to her.

Sonia wasted no time wrapping the purple accessory around her neck.

And of course.

The four hamsters scurried up her arm once she set her hand on the table to see If they would go to her. She laughed brightly as they settled onto her shoulders and In the scarf. She stood up, Readying herself for her monologue.

“Traitors.” He muttered.

“It looks like the Supreme overlord of Ice has met his match, In The GREAT SONIA NEVERMIND! Ruler of the Dark kingdom! The Dark Queen of Destruction!” She imitated Gundham as much as she could, Even striking a pose as she said this. “Fuahaha!”

Gundham cracked up laughing at the sight before him.

Sonia beamed at him, It was nice to see him smile and laugh freely. He didn’t do this nearly enough In her opinion.

“My dear, You are not intimidating.” He chuckled, Regaining his composure. “Though, It was endearing.”

“Not Intimidating?! Fool!” Oh, Looks like she’s continuing this bit. “Do not speak on my fearsomeness until you see my ultimate attack!”

“Oh? And what might that be?” He humored her, Sitting upright.

“I have one more title...” She declared, Sinking down Into the seat next to Gundham, Eliminating any easy chance for escape. “The Ultimate Tickler!”

She immediately shot her hands out and began squeezing his sides, Drawing surprised gasps and giggles from the Ultimate breeder. “S-Sonia?! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I am punishing you for your earlier discretion! No one says that I am not intimidating and gets away with It!” She smirked as she watched him squirm around.

“But you ahaharen't intimidating! I am speheheaking the truth!” He shot back.

“Oh, You will regret those words If my name Isn’t SONIA NEVERMIND!” She cried out with determination. She managed to sneak her hands under his shirt and began skating her nails across his stomach.

He yelped and lurched backwards, His back hitting the wall behind him. Bubbly laughter began pouring from his lips.

She scooted her chair as close to him as she could, Practically hovering over him now. Escape was certainly not going to be easy. “Fuahaha!” She imitated his usual evil laugh. “You are trapped, And there Is no hope for an escape! You must admit that I am to be feared and MAYBE I shall go easy on you!”

How long was she going to keep up this bit? Who knows. Not me. Certainly not Gundham either. It was really amusing to him though.

“I dohohohon’t lihihihihie!” He laughed, Trying to catch her nimble hands.

“Ohh, Now you’re just ASKING for It!”

Her fingers sped up, Nails gliding up his sides and tracing around each rib bone individually. This prompted him to laugh harder, Trying to wrap his arms around his ribs to protect them.

“Foohohohohoholish Mortal! Did you thihink that Ihihihi would break sohohoho easily!? It taahahahakes more thahahan mere tickling to breheheheak me!”

Maybe he was asking for It, Just a little bit. He kind of liked the attention.

“Mortal?! Fine. Perhaps It Is time I begin my Ultimate attack!” She continued her attack, Lightening up her touch a bit to see his reaction. His laughter remained the same, But he began squirming more, Confirming to her that he was more sensitive to softer tickles. “Are you ready? DEVAS, ATTACK!” She commanded.

As If it were Gundham ordering them, The Hamsters obeyed. Much to his horror, They jumped onto him and began nuzzling against his unfortunately very ticklish neck.

“N-NOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHAHA! YOU TRAHAHAHAITORS!” He blushed at the volume of his laughter, Especially after just saying he wouldn’t break so easily.

“Fuahaha! They aren’t betraying anyone, They are simply following their Queen’s command!” She was trying to keep In character, Though ended up giggling along with him after this statement. “It seems as though your neck Is quite sensitive, Does that tickle~?” She cooed.

He tried to muffle his laughter by bringing his arms up to shield his face, But Sonia was having none of it. “Gundham!” She broke character finally. “Do not hide, Your laughter sounds wonderful!”

Gundham's face got even redder, Even his neck got a little red. “NOHOHOH IT DOESN’T!” He whined through his laughter.

“Yes, It does! You should laugh like this more often.” She smiled kindly.

The Dark Prince shook his head in protest.

“Enough of that!” Sonia went back Into her character. “I think It Is about time for the Supreme Overlord of Ice to admit defeat to The Dark Queen of Destruction!”

She went in for the metaphorical kill, Though Gundham thought It might actually kill him. She moved her hands up and began tickling under his arms, Being as gentle as she could to invoke more of a reaction.

He let out a scream and his tough persona completely fell apart under the merciless tickles. “NAAHAHAHAHA! NOHOT THERE!” He finally broke. “PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAP!”

Sonia couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “I will end the attack, But you have to admit that I am to be feared! Admit your defeat!” She grinned.

Gundham managed to snatch up two of his Four Dark Devas with his trembling hands In an attempt to turn the tables, But this seemed to only drive the other two to speed up as If to tell him to release their allies. So his actions did very little to alleviate the intense ticklish sensations.

He had no choice to admit defeat.

“OKAHAHAHAHAY! YOU WIHIHIN! AHAHAHAHAHA!”

As much as she wanted to continue, Sonia relented and withdrew her hands. “San-D, Cham-P, Both of you can stop now.” She gently reached out and grabbed them off of his shoulders, Petting them affectionately as the other two joined them. “Good Devas…” She praised them.

Gundham slumped over the table, Gasping for air and breathing heavily. “You are… Truly evil…” He panted.

She smiled at him. “Nonsense. I could have been a lot more cruel than I was.”

That made chills run down his spine. He shuddered visibly at the thought. He turned his head- Which was still resting against the table- To look at her. “Even so, I suppose I was no match for your power THIS time. But next time, You’re In for a tough fight.”

Sonia giggled, Setting the Hamsters back down on the table. “My power knows no bounds, Foolish Prince! Now, Admit that I am intimidating. Or else I shall sic the Four Dark Devas of Destruction and Tickles on you again!”

“Did… Did you just rename them?”

“Better hurry up~”

“Gh-- F-Fine. You are the most Fearsome creature I’ve ever come across. Even I, The Great Gundham Tanaka, Am intimidated by you... Does that satisfy you?”

Even though his speech was low energy, She could tell he was In higher spirits than earlier. The Princess giggled as she took off his scarf. “Yes, The Dark Queen thanks you.” She set It on the table and the Devas immediately curled up In it.

“Looks like they’re tired.” He observed.

“Almost as tired as you are.” She added, Running her fingers through his black and gray hair affectionately. “You seemed tired this morning, Did you not sleep well?”

The Supreme Overlord of Ice completely melted under her touch, His eyes fluttering closed. “Not particularly.” He admitted. “As foolish as It is, I suppose I was a bit upset about being avoided by the others.”

Sonia frowned. “I do not understand why they are acting so weird. Especially Kazuichi.”

Because he’s Kazuichi. He shrugged his shoulders a bit.

“Perhaps I will have a conversation with him.” She thought aloud.

“N-No. That’s not necessary. I’m sure he has a reason.”

“I am too, That Is why I wish to talk to him to find out why. It Is clearly something that Is troubling you, So It Is troubling me as well.” The Princess had already made up her mind.

Gundham knew It was pointless to argue any further, So he remained silent. Soon dozing off.

Sonia giggled as she heard a soft snore, Still running her fingers through his hair. She wondered why nobody could see this side of Gundham when they talked to him, She Instantly saw through his cold facade.

Maybe It was the same reason people couldn’t see how Intimidating she can be at first glance.

[chrolloctrl]

hello～! can i request for Adultrio who fell in love with fem crime hunter Reader? also have a nice day/evening💘

thank you for the request! i tried my best to make all of these different from each other, but i also tried to stay true to how the characters would sincerely react:) oh and sorry for the late post, school’s been tough :( but yknow it be like that

note(s)/warning(s): some mentions of blood and violence, but other than that nothing you wouldn’t see on hxh though

fandom(s)/character(s): hunter x hunter, adultrio, aka illumi, hisoka, and chrollo

for dialogue purposes, italics are you, and bold is the character :)

i l l u m i

since you’re a crime hunter and he is a literal trained assassin, the relationship is pretty much seemingly doomed for failure

however i imagine that you guys meet in an a very unexpected way

he’s on a mission to kill someone who had stolen from the zoldycks, and you’re on a mission to take out a thief

yeah it’s the same guy you got it

illumi gets there first and gets the job done

much to your dismay

you’re standing right behind him as he’s covered in blood over the body

all you say is “since when does the assassin do something morally correct?”

“when it benefits him.” he responds.

i think he recognizes you before you recognize him

“you’re y/n, right? crime hunter?”

“you could say that.”

“we aren’t so different you know..”

“we are incredibly different. i don’t kill for sport.”

“you still kill, though.”

you’re so pissed off because he kind of has a point

oh and that emotionless stupid little face of his pisses you off even more

it’s all love we know i love illumi

illumi’s bloodlust is out of control at this point, your interaction with him just increased that

“what are you going to do? kill me?”

“no. it doesn’t benefit me now does it?”

“what do you want from me illumi?”

“ a deal.”

somehow he ropes you into helping him on missions as long as it corresponds with your own morals

i think the moment he realizes he’s in love with you is when you explain morality to him

like obviously he has no idea wtf good morals are lmao

you act as his therapist in a way, comforting him about his past and telling him that his bad actions don’t make him a bad person, just a person who used to do bad things

sorry guys i love soft illumi, and i genuinely think he has the capability to be good

one day he breaks down after a mission, and he is so embarrassed that you’re the first person he shows his deep, buried emotions to

you just hold him and comfort him, telling him its not his fault

after that he doesn’t want to talk to you because he’s embarrassed

“i think emotions make you a better assassin.”

“how does that make sense?”

“makes you think twice.”

and now he knows why killua loves gon so much.

h i s o k a

we already know this bitch is obsessed with you

probably keeps tabs on you to see what you’re up to

every headline involving you “taking down another lowlife” catches his attention so fast

he wants a fight so bad

so he creates a plan

commit a crime so terribly that they HAVE to send you to take him out

just another amazing idea from hisoka!

so he figures out who you’re working for, and kills someone close to them, obviously leaving behind a trace so they have somewhat of an idea as to who he is, but still making it a hunt

he probably leaves a star and tear behind, something that only those who knew him would recognize

and so he watches you hunt him while he hunts you

you’re asking anyone and everyone if they recognize the star and tear, most people either having no clue, or recognizing it but keeping quiet about it in fear of what hisoka would do

eventually, someone says they know a person who draws a star and tear on their face — hisoka morrow

once hisoka hears that you know his name he is absolutely ecstatic, he probably reveals himself to you right after

“it has been so fun watching you search for me.”

“if you knew i was looking, why be a coward and hide?”

“there’s no fun if there’s no chase, darling.”

you guys battle it out, i imagine the fight is very close, but evidently you just can’t keep up with him

“you put up a beautiful fight…hmm, perhaps i’ll let you survive if you join me?”

out of breath and on the brink of death, he assumes you’re saying no

right as he goes for the finishing blow, you hold your hands up, and whisper through a mouth full of blood a small “i’ll do it.”

he has a huge grin on his face, so excited to have successfully “corrupted” you

sorry y’all added a little corruption kink in their my b

once he takes you to machi so she can heal you, you both go on ur little killing ppl missions together cos what else does hisoka do lol

he realizes he’s in love once you finish someone off, a crazed look in your eyes, smile on display, covered in blood.

“you’ve never looked as beautiful as you do now.”

you and hisoka’s love is weird. but it’s intense, and it is real. just not...normal.

you guys are crazy killers, but it works

he probably draws a star and tear on you just so u guys can match

after u.. murder people <3

yandere reader vibes sorry

c h r o l l o

for this, we are going to assume that you are the “weakest” link of the crime hunter agency

so they make you the bait

sorry i just want to cover all of our bases

you definitely have a lot of potential, you are just incredibly clumsy, and taking down the phantom troupe is something that requires plenty of people on the job

chrollo already knows you’re a crime hunter when he “runs into you” at a bar, as well as the fact that you aren’t working alone

but he entertains you, just because he’s bored lol

i can already picture you being caught off guard by how handsome chrollo is, because honestly im sorry who wouldn’t be

you kind of even forget you’re there on a job

but, when chrollo asks if you know about nen and what type of nen you use, you quickly remember why you’re there

you smile, “yes, i’m a specialist.”

he asks you to show him, but you decline

“i will lose it if i do.”

chrollo smirks, “smart girl.”

with that, you feel a sharp pain on the side closest to chrollo, and everything goes dark as you tumble into his arms

once you wake up, all the spiders surround you, chrollo in the center

“caught in the web.” you say, as chrollo’s eyes lighten up.

“precisely.”

“is there any way to escape a spider’s web?”

“prove to be worthy.”

there he went again, begging to see your nen so he could steal it

but just because you were thought to be the weakest link, didn’t mean it was true

“i mean, you’re looking at it right now.”

the troupe stares in confusion, and before chrollo can respond, one of the spiders falls to the ground, beheaded. (i can’t pick who so just pretend its ur least favorite <3)

the spiders stand there in shock

there were two of you.

the real you, free and unbounded, makes the clone disappear

“you said you were a specialist, but this seems to be a conjurer technique?”

“the speciality is that you can’t steal it. it isn’t exactly nen.”

this is the first time someone’s caught chrollo off guard, he has no idea what to do, i mean how did he know that this you wasn't a clone?

“now, i’ve heard once a leg is missing, there needs to be a replacement. what does the head think?”

you weren’t just a crime hunter, you were a double agent who wanted in on the phantom troupe

the moment chrollo realized your abilities weren’t nen, i think that’s when he fell in love

hear me out

he knows he’s going to be indebted to you forever

and we all know those books he reads...mf is a hopeless romantic who if in love, pretty much is absolutely obsessed

and boy is he obsessed already

of course, he is unable to steal it from you which is quite a drag

but, with you there, and your undiscovered abilities, the phantom troupe was basically unbeatable

something he wanted so badly

“welcome to the troupe number ___.” (once again i can’t decide who LOL you guys can pick)

you protect him and he protects you. 

if any of the troupe questions you and your decisions, he defends you so fast

eventually the troupe is referred to as “a spider with two heads”

kinda cute, kinda funky fresh name for thieves and murderers<3 at least u guys r passionately in love <3 

i hope this was good!! im kind of rusty so sorry :( im finishing up some other requests, and im thinking of crossposting a fic on here and on ao3, inspired by my dr strange/hxh hcs :) but requests are still open! guidelines right here  (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ thank you to everyone who shows love to my posts!

[egcdeath]

a blip in the reader-verse

chapter 1: beginnings and endings

summary: a minor mistake causes a shift in the multiverse that only you have the capacity to fix.

(current) pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: pretty angsty, unhealthy relationships (codependency) 

author’s note: i published this earlier but with a completely different plot (oops) ((i had to rewrite this whole thing)). i’ve never written anything longer than a one shot before, so please be nice! all reblogs are appreciated <3

Nothing had been the same since the Snap.

Unsurprisingly, watching half of your friends and teammates dissolve into no more than desaturated soot took an astounding toll in every single aspect of your life, but more than anything, in your love life.

Despite having some of your teammates left in the aftermath, you found yourself growing more and more anchored to Steve, and him with you. Although you began dating around a year before the Snap, the heavy loss that the both of you faced seem to launch you straight into the abyss of codependency.

Deep down, you knew that this wasn’t healthy for you. You’d be told millions of times by your remaining family and friends that no one should ever be as attached to anyone or anything as you were to Steve. He was your drug of choice, and you were reduced down to an addict.

You grew frustrated with those who challenged the nature of your relationship. It boiled down to the way that you felt that no one could truly understand the pain and guilt that the two of you constantly were doused in. Yet, at the same time, nothing could take your pain away and distract you from the distressing feelings more than Steve could.

You knew that if something were ever to happen to him, you’d be absolutely destroyed. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to go on through life without the super soldier by your side. Yet, this feeling was far from exclusive.

A multitude of nights had been spent in the dark, on opposite sides of the sofa in the living room of your apartment, silently listening to Steve vent, or allowing yourself to divulge your feelings yourself over the tragedy, your deepest fears, and anything else that was on your mind.

You were more than aware that Steve was just as afraid of losing you as you were of losing him.

That’s why you’d been so shocked when he offered to return the Infinity Stones sometime after Carol’s second snap.

You stood in the large field behind the Compound with knots tying and untying themselves in your stomach. You genuinely had an awful feeling about what was bound to occur, and you just weren't sure exactly why, it was just a gut feeling.

Coming up beside you, Sam looked around the field, observing the small platform, along with Steve as he chatted with Bruce and Tony, who were putting the final touches on the time machine.

“You okay? You’re chewing your lip like it’s an overcooked steak, or something,” he chuckled, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“I don't know, Sam. I just don’t feel right about this,” you said softly, turning to look at him.

“It’s alright to be nervous, Y/N. Hell, I’m nervous too! But if it makes you feel any better, he’ll be back in like, 30 seconds, with not even a scratch on his body. And maybe it’ll do you guys some good to have some away time. I heard a certain couple became surgically attached at the hip while I was gone,” he gave you a little smirk.

“Ha ha,” you said drily, actually a bit more annoyed at the topic than you tried to let on. “Promise me he’s gonna be okay?” You asked, looking deep into Sam’s eyes, trying to draw out as much truth as possible.

“I promise. He’s coming over now, so try not to act like you’re on the brink of a heart attack,” he stepped aside, then received a big hug from his friend, before Steve moved on to bid you a farewell.

You sighed contentedly as you were wrapped in his warm and familiar embrace. The comfort of the hug alone had already calmed you down more than you could’ve ever expected.

“Why do you have to go?” You whispered sadly into his collarbone.

“I just do. But I’ll be back before you even realize I’m gone, okay?” He brought a hand up to your hair, and stroked it in what you’d learned was somewhat of a nervous tick. You simply nodded at the question, too upset with the situation to form the right words.

“I love you,” was all you could come up with.

“I love you too. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do while I’m gone.” He stepped away from you somewhat so he could get a good, final look at you.

“Come on, Rogers. Don’t you have some diamonds you’re supposed to be returning to the jewler  right now?” Tony asked jokingly. You gave him a sour face, but acknowledged that it was time for him to go.

With that, all you were able to do was stand back and watch. But after a moment, Steve’s returning point had passed. Then, a minute had passed. That minute turned to five. And your worst nightmare had suddenly become your reality.

----

Returning the stones had gone well, at first. Until it didn’t. Suddenly, Steve was in Stark Tower in 2012, Pym Particles smashed unceremoniously on the ground after falling several floors in the midst of a tussle with himself.

Steve couldn’t think of any worse scenario. Well, maybe if he hadn’t already returned all but the stone. But that didn’t even matter to him at the moment, he was permanently stuck in the past, and had probably created all sorts of time paradoxes.

Despite his own personal conflicts, he still had one task left, and he wasn’t going to risk a whole universe plunging into their darkest timeline due to a major panic on his part. After escaping the grasp of himself from the past, he managed to slip out of the building in one piece, before wandering the battered streets of New York in an attempt to find the Sanctum.

When Steve arrived at the Sanctum, the door had opened right up for him, as if he’d been expected all this time, and he was greeted by none other than the Ancient One.

“Captain Rogers,” she greeted, nodding, “I’m assuming you have something for me?”

Steve nodded, then handed her the briefcase. She opened it, then gladly put the Time Stone back in it’s proper home. “Ancient One, I need you to help me with something. Is there any way at all that you’d be able to send me back home?”

“Why can’t you get back yourself?” She questioned.

“Well, I kind of can’t. All the particles I used to get here are kind of.. Gone.” He sighed, cringing internally at his own irresponsibility.

The Ancient One sighed, and shook her head, “I can do my best, but I can’t guarantee you’ll get back home. I can help you send some sort of SOS to your friends, and I can send you to a new reality, but I can’t promise you’ll end up exactly where you want to be.”

“But we have to try something.” He added helplessly, gaining a nod from the woman standing across from him.

“You’re right. I think I have an idea of what we need to do.”

next chapter

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

In the Dead of Night

Title taken from the same Judas Priest song as before, “Love Bites.”

tw: horny (duh), blood mention, consensual blood drinking, consensual mind reading, consensual mind control, dom/sub undertones but only vaguely

the mind control does not occur during the smutty bits, by the way. that shit is foreplay only and it is discussed at length by both parties (I just wanted to play with Dracula’s fun powers and also as someone said in my AO3 comments: “THRALL SEX! THRALL SEX!”).

THIS IS A SMUT, 18+ YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

top!Jaskier, bottom!Geralt

please comment I am fucking begging you

---

“Geralt,” the silky voice called out to him. It echoed off the castle walls, pulling the lawyer deeper into a state languid, misty stupor. “Come to me, my love. Come to me, Geralt.”

The solicitor, whose mind was still half-convinced this was a dream, found his body moving of its own accord. He rose mechanically from the bed and crossed the enormous guest room, not even stopping to pull on his slippers or dressing gown as he should have. Nor did he brush his hair back into place; it hung in a loose white curtain, framing his eyes and jaw rather romantically. 

Geralt stumbled through the keep like a drunken marionette, tied and tangled in the strings of some clever puppet-master. The drawling voice told him to turn left towards the Count’s set of private rooms, so he did. His bare feet didn’t even register the usually freezing temperature of Castle Dracula’s cold stone floors. His skin was aflame with goosebumps but not a single one had resulted from the chilly temperature. 

“Geralt,” the voice purred. The sleepwalker’s pace sped up as he neared the heavy oak door that led to his employer’s bedchamber, “I am waiting for you, my pet, and I am growing impatient.”

---

“Are you completely and totally sure, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, worrying his lip between his sharp, sharp teeth. Geralt nodded and tried his best to look away from his lover’s gorgeous mouth. It wasn’t working. “Oh...Oh yes. I suppose you’re quite sure.”

“How can you tell?” the solicitor asked, quirking a curious eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction. The vampire gestured as he spoke, trying to work out some of his fizzling energy as he explained his powers. 

“Uhm, right. I should probably explain. I can read minds, you see. Telepathy was gifted to me along with the immortality, the odd sleeping hours, and the lust for drinking human blood. I am also an incredibly fast healer, I can turn into a bat, and I can walk up and down walls as easily as if they were floors.”

“Impressive,” Geralt smirked. “Care to demonstrate, Your Grace?”

“Perhaps at a later date; I’m not in the mood for party tricks just now. Not after what you just told me and what I just saw going through your pretty white lawyer-jargon-filled head.”

“So you can read my thoughts as clear as day, then?”

“Yes, but I don’t make a habit of doing it regularly. I only peeked in just now because your line of questioning had me in a bundle of nerves.”

“Going to bed with me makes you nervous?”

“I very much enjoy our tender nights of lovemaking together, Geralt,” the vampire admonished teasingly. He was trying to lighten the mood, to fully process his recently acquired lover’s peculiar request. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want you to suddenly change your mind or feel unsure going into things and only continue for my sake. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you woke up one morning and feared me for being the monster I truly am.”

“You are no monster,” Geralt asserted, catching Jaskier’s flighty hands in both of his and holding them tightly. He squeezed his fingers and smiled encouragingly when Jaskier squeezed back. “And aren’t I supposed to be the nervous one, coming to you with something of this nature and speaking of it in plain terms? I’m mortified.”

“I just don’t want you to be afraid of me, Geralt.”

The human cocked his head to the side and smiled, the deep blush that had accompanied his earlier request still darkened the apples of his cheeks. His open expression was so trusting and endearing that Jaskier’s heart would have broken if it were still beating. “I could never be afraid of you, Your Grace.”

“Do I have your permission to read through your expectations of this, should we attempt it?”

“Of course, Your Grace. Whatever pleases you best, Your Grace.”

“That’s cheating, darling. You know how it boils my blood when you call me that,” the vampire growled. 

They’d fallen back into the pillows after that but the deal had been struck: some night when Geralt wasn’t expecting it, when he was fast asleep, Jaskier would bring his lover under his thrall. He would command Geralt’s every movement, keeping careful tabs on his mind so that no wrong moves were made and no damage was done. He cared too much for the mortal’s safety to risk anything.

But the mortal had learned that it was very hard for Jaskier to deny him anything, especially when it came to adventurous and lusty bedroom games.

---

Geralt pushed the door open and approached the bed, where Jaskier was reclined comfortably against a mound of pillows. His ankles were delicately crossed and he was draped in a long, flowing white silk night shirt. His fangs were already fully extended and his irises were glowing crimson in the dim light of a few lit candles. 

“Kneel,” Jaskier ordered. Geralt dropped to his knees, unconsciously grateful for the pillow that his employer and lover had set out in preparation. The Count slid from the bed and approached his prey, breathing the heady scent of a lustful, eager human. It was a warm, earthy scent and it tickled him greatly to know that Geralt felt it all for him. Only for him. 

For Count Dracula, the terror of Redania. 

One of the immortal’s cold, calloused fingertips slid down the side of Geralt’s jaw and the solicitor shuddered instinctively, thrusting his chest forward and turning his face to the left to better reveal the pale, unmarked column of his throat. The Count released a feral growl and fisted his hands into Geralt’s hair. He tugged his head back, forcing the younger man to arch even further forward and breathe even more shallowly than before. All Jaskier could hear in the mortal’s mind, even beneath the fog of his vampiric thrall, was: Yes! Yes! More. Yes!

It was very encouraging. He kissed a torturously slow line of tooth-heavy kisses up and down the soft skin and refused to let the mortal give in to his urge to write. He forced Geralt to stay perfectly still as he laved his throat and Adam’s apple with his teeth and tongue.

He whined, low and long, and the Count released him to step back. 

“Greedy thing,” the vampire chuckled. The sound was low and ominous; it reverberated dangerously through Geralt’s chest and forced a whine from his throat, his eyes still trained on the Count. The solicitor could not force himself to move an inch as he awaited further instructions from his Master. Finally, after a nearly painful length of silence, Jaskier murmured, “Disrobe for me, pet.”

Geralt’s fingers flew to the collar of his nightshirt, tugging the buttons apart haphazardly in his rush to bare himself before his Count. His Jaskier. His Master. The vampire placed his hands over the mortal’s and tutted in disappointment. The sound had Geralt reeling, groaning in utter confusion as he went limp beneath his lover’s ministrations. 

“Slower, my darling. Put on a show for me. You’re so pretty, Geralt, and I’d like it if you remembered that. Unwrap yourself like a present, wouldn’t you?”

The white-haired human flushed a charming shade of pink and ducked his head. Jaskier removed his hands and sat back down on the edge of the bed. He watched with obvious arousal as Geralt slowly unhooked each shiny black button, drawing the material aside to reveal the planes of his broad, lightly-furred chest. He slowly slipped the offending article over his head and discarded it to the side. Then he paused, waiting once again for the vampire to give him a command.

“Pants off, too. I’d like you bare, my pet.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“What does it feel like to be enthralled by your love, Geralt? Do you regret letting me be your Master?”

“I regret nothing, Your Grace. Being yours like this...it feels as if my mind is far away and yet everything I touch is very close. If your skin brushes against mine unintentionally I fear that I shall fly apart; yet I’ve never wanted to be touched more desperately in my life.”

“Hmm. That is an interesting way to put it. Now, my love, come lay with me and let me touch you as you so desire.”

“As it pleases you, Your Grace.”

“Even bent to obey my every whim without question you are no less accommodating, my dear.”

Jaskier straddled Geralt as soon as the mortal had laid himself down. He shucked off his own silk nightshirt in the process, tossing it off into the darkness as if it wasn’t worth more than Geralt’s weight in gold. The Count ran his frigid hands down Geralt’s firm arms, clasping his hands and pulling them slowly, teasingly over his head. 

“How strange it must be to know that I will not tie you down and yet you will not be able to move from this position without my order to do so,” the vampire whispered against the shell of his lover’s ear. Geralt moaned and tossed his head back, baring his throat once again. The human was practically screaming his thoughts at Jaskier: Bite me! Feed from me! Take from me and make me yours, Your Grace. My handsome Count. My love!

The Count wrapped himself around his lovely, willing victim and eagerly acquiesced.

---

“Fuck!” Geralt cried. He was sure that every nerve ending in his body was screaming in wave after wave of unstoppable ecstasy. 

Jaskier was everywhere. The Count had released the hold of his thrall as soon as he’d bitten into the side of Geralt’s throat. Now there was nothing standing between Geralt and all of the wonderful sensations his lover was inflicting upon him. The rhythmic movements of Jaskier’s hips as the vampire fucked him firmly down into the mattress, the heaving of his breath in his slow human lungs, the little white flyaways that were stuck to his forehead with sweat; even the way his hands were buried fiercely in the vampire’s soft chestnut hair seemed to only further drive Geralt mad with lust. 

There were warring sparks of arousal and heat shooting between the spot in his neck where Jaskier’s teeth were buried and the spot in his ass where Jaskier’s glorious cock was buried. The Count was an expert at mind reading and at lovemaking. He played Geralt like Geralt had seen him once play the lute and the harp. His fingers were expert, flicking at his nipples and pulling at his hair at just the right moments.

The young solicitor was nothing more than a moaning, writhing symphony and Jaskier was his wicked, brilliant composer. He sang at his Master’s order, grunting and sighing whenever one of the Count’s expert thrusts hit his prostate. It was even better knowing that every slam of Jaskier’s hips was matched by a strong pull of blood as the vampire drank from him. To know that he was pleasuring His Grace in so many ways at once brought the human to the height of joy. He mumbled a long series of wordless, gibberish thanks and let the Count drain him of his life force. 

“I can keep going all night,” the vampire warned, removing his teeth from his quarry only long enough to speak. “I could drive you mad like this, Geralt. Would you like that? Would you enjoy spending your life under my spell, warming my bed and slaking my immortal lusts? Would you like it if I laid you out on a pretty velvet dais during the day and gave you endless books to read? Would you be content if I had you dressed and bathed for me by your own set of servants every night and delivered to my bed when the sun finally disappears?”

“Your Grace! Please!”

Geralt didn’t know if he was begging for it or trying to plead against it; perhaps both or perhaps neither. Perhaps he was merely begging for Jaskier to put his fangs back in his straining, yearning neck. But the Count wasn’t about to let him off that easily.

“Please, you say? Does that idea appeal to you, my pet? Would you like being looked after and taken care of and tenderly worshiped from now until your dying day?”

“Jaskier!” the mortal solicitor cried, clenching tightly around the vampire and forcing the immortal’s breath from his lungs. “Keep me forever, do not let me leave your side, Your Grace! Please!”

“Fuck, Geralt, I’m-” he cut himself off by sinking his canines back into his lover’s pale arteries and sucking in one last deep gulp of sparkling ruby nectar. 

“Yes! Your Grace!”

They fell over the precipice together, tumbling through empty, breathless air as they came. The feeling of Jaskier’s fangs in his neck had finally given Geralt the perfect amount of stimulation to climax, messing both his own chest and part of Jaskier’s with sticky spend. Since the Count had been monitoring Geralt’s thoughts the entire time they were coupling, hell bent on making sure he was enjoying himself, Geralt’s climax sent Jaskier headfirst into his own shuddering finish. “Fuck! My love!”

“Jaskier!” ---

“You’re a marvel, my darling,” the Count insisted, forcing Geralt to take another sip of sweet red wine. He slipped a piece of sweet bread with jam into the mortal’s mouth shortly thereafter. “I am so lucky to have had you delivered right to my doorstep, ready and willing to fall under my evil spell.”

“You’re still not frightening me,” the solicitor replied. “I went to law school; you’re almost tame.”

“For that remark you shall be severely punished.”

Geralt rolled over in Jaskier’s lap and wiggled his ass playfully. “Oh no, Your Grace. Anything but that.”

“Get back here and finish your wine, pet.”

Geralt returned to his previous position and Jaskier ran a hand through his snow-white locks. “May I get dressed yet, Your Grace?”

“Not if you keep calling me that. If you insist on flaunting my title then I may never let you see a stitch of clothing again.”

Geralt blushed and Jaskier’s eyes widened as the mortal’s thought passed through the veil into his own mind. The Count laughed and fed Geralt a bite of bread. 

“You’re an absolutely filthy little minx, pet. I’m going to keep you forever.”

[marvelfansince08love]

Three’s company

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff x female!Reader 

Word count: God knows like 4000

Warning: NSFW 18+ lots of smut, read at your own risk. Really bad smut writing. 

Prompt 14, 30:  “If this is your attempt at pushing me away, it won’t work” “Come on now dear, Let’s not torture her any longer” - Poly 

A/N: For Vee, I love you and I hope you enjoy! I’ve scrapped this about six times and I still have a love/hate relationship with it. Also feel honoured because this is my first smut fic ever never mind Poly, please be gentle with me lmao. 😂

Thank you @lesbian-deadpool for reading over this and giving me your seal of approval, you the best sister in law ever. What would my gal do without you @missmonsters2 lol 😂x

Tags: @imnotasuperhero @j-does-life @the-enamorando-deity​ 

I do not own these gifs!🖤

Prompts 14, 30 

Have you ever been in love?

 Have you ever been in love with two people at once? Or better yet, in love with two people who are also in an established relationship.

 Because I have.

 I continue to you scribble my thoughts onto the blank page of my diary needing to express my thoughts and feelings somewhere, like a dirty little secret.

 A loud knock at my bedroom door interrupts my train of thought as I quickly close my secrets away and scramble to hide it in my desk draw. I turn around to see blonde hair and blue eyes peeking through the gap of the door.

 "Hey Y/N just letting you know movie night is starting in half an hour and I don't want another excuse as to why you can't come. You've been locked up in your room almost the entire week. We're worried." Steve asks warmly, ever the mother hen of the group.

 "I'm fine Steve I've just been busy with mission reports and making sure the new shield recruits are settling in. You know how daunting it can be, especially when Sam, Clint and Bucky think it's funny to mess with them on their first week. I promise I'll come down" I reassure him, and he almost believes me.

 "Okay I'll bite but just know I'm here if you wanna talk about it. I haven't mentioned it to them that I saw you sneaking out of their room last week" he says sympathetically.

 That's when this whole thing started. Once I became a regular member of the Avengers initiative, it meant spending a lot of time with the team. Nat and Wanda had welcomed me with open arms being the only two regular females of the group. It started off with small subtle brushes of their fingers against my hand when they walked pass or passing things to each other in the kitchen, their fingertips just lingering a little longer. Of course, every time this would happen I would be a blundering mess but they seemed unfazed by the waves of electricity between us every time, until those subtle hints turned a little more bolder.

 Three weeks ago

 Walking through the private area of the compound, I rub my tried eyes and roll my shoulders trying to ease the tension in my muscles. I shuffle towards the living room area hoping to catch up on some reading needing some peace. The open windows and the dark grey Italia corner sofa that faces it gives a lovely view of the trees and forest life that surrounds the hidden compound. In my dazed, tired state I failed to notice the fiery red head sitting lazily on the sofa a Russian novel in hand with a devilish smirk.

 "Hey Y/N how was training the newbies?"

 I gasp lightly and quickly turn around to face her, my hand hovering over my chest as I clutch my favourite book in the other.

 "Jeez Nat, you could warn a woman!"

She laughs quietly.

 "You're an avenger Myshka, your eyes should always be open to any possible thing" the words slow and clear, her voice deep laced with flirtation.

 I gulp slightly, blushing at the Russian term that I’m always referred to as but never know what it means. I drop my gaze no longer able to look into those green eyes that hold such heat.

 "Yeah well I've just spent the last five hours training dumbass's who can't tell the difference between a Fixation Bowie and a SoG Seal Knife, so give me a break" I grumbled, feeling slightly irritated suddenly.

 Maybe because she keeps flirting with you and she has a girlfriend.

 Nat frowns lightly before sitting up her legs tucked underneath her making available space on the sofa next to her, she pats the space indicating for me to sit with her. I pause for a minute debating whether that would be safe for me to do so, I scan her face and land my eyes onto her perfect full lips stained with red lipstick.

 Maybe this isn't such a good idea, I could always read in my room.

 But she looks so good sitting there and she smells divine.

 The latter thought wins as I tentatively make my way over to her and take a seat, leaving a good gap between us. Nat smiles softly before turning back to her book, making me relax a little.

 After a few minutes of us both reading in silence, I feel Nat shift slightly trying to get comfortable. Unfolding her legs from under her she slowly stretches them out over my lap and sighs content with her new position. I tense and look over to her waiting for her to say something, but her head is buried back into her book.

 It's okay, you guys are friends. This is what friends do.

 Nat shuffles around again before huffing, clearly not comfortable. I can feel her gaze on me from the corner of my eye.

 "Myshka, can I lean against you? The corner of this sofa is killing my back and you seem far too comfy" she whines lightly, pouting those cherry red lips. My eyes instantly fall to them again before quickly looking back to her eyes, a glint of knowing lingers slightly in those pretty greens.

 She caught you.

 "Oh..um yeah sure Natasha" she moves like lightening and curls up into my side, her head leaning against my shoulder, legs draped over me. My eyes widen in fear at the sudden closeness between us and the creaking sound of the floorboards by the doorway announcing another presence.

 "Well don't my two favourite girls look comfortable hmm? Mind if I join?" I continue to tense up, eyes moving back and forth between the two of them trying to gauge their reaction, but Nat seems indifferent as she continues to stay close to me still emerged in her book. Wanda makes her way around the room, I'm shocked to see that instead of sitting next to Natasha she stands closely behind us, her hands rest on either side of my shoulders, her thumbs move back and forth along my exposed shoulders as she leans in and whispers "you seem tense fényem (my light), you need to relax. Is Steve giving you a hard time with the new recruits? I'll have a word" her breath softly brushing against my sensitive skin making me shiver.

 I shake my head unable to find the words to speak. Wanda hums quietly before releasing her hold on me and moving towards Natasha before letting her lips meet hers in a heated kiss. I try to avert my eyes but it's too late, Nat looks straight at me and winks subtly before going back to her book as Wanda walks away asking if we would like a drink. I shake my head in decline before making up an excuse and sprinting out of there.

 Whatever game their playing, I don't want any part of it...

 Or maybe I do.

 End of flashback

 A week later the flirting and teasing had gotten more bolder as the days passed. I found myself being left alone with one of them or both way too often for it to be a convenience. At the end of that week, it was team bonding night in the games room, drinks were poured and before I had time to blink, I could feel soft warm skin against my lips while two pairs of red lips and hands trail along my naked back and shoulders, limbs tangled up in silk sheets.

 I woke up in a haze just as the sun met the earth in the distant horizon and vanished out of their room. Leaving an empty gap between them, making my heart shatter. The knocking on my door and the empty threats to come into my room if I didn't speak to them became less and less as the week went on, as if giving up on any attempts to see me.

 I'm shaken out of my thoughts by two large gentle hands cupping my shoulders; Steve stares at me with concern.

 "Come on let's just go down and get the food ready for the movie, okay? You can sit with me if you like, you don't have to talk to them" I nod my head in agreement to his proposition.

 "Is there any specific snacks you would like?"

 I smirk at that slightly before replying:

 "Do we have the big bag of Doritos, Dorito?" Steve rolls his eyes and groans in annoyance.

 "Can you and Tony stop it with the Dorito thing? it was one commercial and the money went to a good cause" he moans grumpily before leaving the room and heading back towards the kitchen for the movie night snacks.

 I chuckle softly before gathering my thoughts.

 Maybe I could make another excuse up for not going.

 Knowing I don’t stand a chance against a stubborn Super Soldier I make my way out off my safe space and into the unknown.

  Upon arriving in the dimly lit room I scan for a vacant double seat to settle into for the evening, my eyes fall upon the very two people who have been taken over my thoughts and the pages in my diary for last two months; Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff.

 Wanda sits comfortably on Natasha's lap her head tilted upward as Nat whispers softly to her while brushing her thumb over Wanda's bare calf making her giggle quietly.

 My thoughts overtake me as I think about her thumb brushing against my bare thigh while Wanda whispers sweet nothings into my ear, just like that night...

 As if sensing my presence, they both turn and face me, a soft smile playing on both of their lips.

 "Hey kotenok, where have you been all week? We've missed you" Nat speaks quietly laced with worry. Wanda's furrowed brow also indicating her agreement.

 I blush slightly and clear my dry throat suddenly aware of my daydreaming.

 "Sorry...I.. um I had a few mission reports that needed finishing and didn't realise the time. I could do without Steve chewing my ass about neglecting my responsibilities outside of missions" I say impersonating my best Steve Rogers voice, which causing Nat to smirk slightly; amusement in her eyes while Wanda giggles her eyes looking over my shoulder.

 "You know Y/N if you actually did do the reports on time, I wouldn't have to keep lecturing you" a deep authority voice says behind me while dangling a bag of Doritos in front of my face. I roll my eyes in good nature before grabbing the offered snack and moving to sit in the empty loveseat by the two women.

 "You know there is space on this love machi- I mean love-seat Y/N, all you gotta do is ask" Sam teases a few rows down and winking cheekily, a pillow hits him around the back of the head by Bucky who's sat beside him.

 "Please she's way out of your league, fake bird" they both continue to bicker back and forth as I settle onto my own love-seat, wrapping the blanket around me and sighing at the warm feeling surrounding me as I sink into it further.

 "Sam's right though Y/N, you don't have to sit by yourself. Come sit with me and Nat there's plenty of room here" Wanda whispers leaning over towards me so no one else can hear, her eyes filled with attentiveness. I gulp and avert my eyes away from her emerald gaze as I pull slightly at the blanket as if trying to form a protective barrier around myself, away from her gaze and the heat behind them.

 "Oh um I'm okay I'll stay here. Thank you though" I stutter over my words while trying to build up enough courage to look into her eyes, to show her I'm not affected by the idea of being so close to them both.

 "Oh okay.. well if you do get a bit lonely over here, just know the offer is there Myshka" her eyes filled with slight disappointment but doesn't push the offer further and settles back into Natasha. I feel Nat's heated gaze upon me as I try and stay focused on the starting credits of Clint's choice of film.

 Halfway through the movie, I can feel my eyelids growing heavy and my vision blurring. Unable to fight the dreamworld any longer I slowly let myself fall into a deep slumber.

 "She's so cute when she sleeps, so peaceful"

 "Can you imagine how good she would be for us Wanda, how amazing all three of us could be?"

 "Nat! This isn't the time; you know the last time we did that with her she pushed us away. Why won't she just talk to us? If she had just stuck around long enou-"

 The voices in the room suddenly stop as I feel myself awakening from my deep slumber, I tense slightly suddenly aware that I'm not alone in the room and not in the comfort of the cinema loveseat but in a soft bed that smells just like...

 "Hey sleepyhead, look who's finally decided to join the land of the living" Nat murmurs while brushing a stray piece of hair out of my face and behind my ear, I shiver slightly at her touch before scurrying into an upright position, aware that I'm currently not in my own bedroom but in theirs.

 "How long was I sleeping for?"

 "Only about two hours, we thought it would be best to bring you in here since we need to talk"

I gulp slightly at that.

 "Um.. to talk? Could we do this another time? I'm pretty beat from all that writing and working with the recruits, I just want my bed" I try to reason with them but they both fix me with a "don't even try it" look before sitting on either side of me. Wanda grabs hold of my hand and turns my palm upward, she traces her finger around my palm and slowly lifts her eyes to look at me.

 "Please Y/N, talk to us. We've been trying to see you all week, but you seem to be avoiding us and Nat doesn't take to well to being ignored" she smirks mischievously at mentioning her girlfriend, who seems to be remaining quiet throughout the exchange.

 I look over towards Nat only now taking in how quiet she's been throughout this whole exchange even in the cinema room she spoke less to me than ever before. Her eyes drop down, looking at the silk sheet as her hand brushes softly against along it, her head tilted slightly as if reminiscing.

 "We may have gone about it the wrong way myshka, but we care about you.. a lot actually and more than just friends. We can't stop thinking about you but avoiding us after leaving like that... if this is your attempt at pushing us away, it won't work. We...I felt it that night, the way you clung to me as I brought you close to the edge, the softness in your eyes when Wanda held you close afterwards... tell me you don't feel the same way"

  I sit gaping at her, lost for words. I feel Wanda's hand squeeze mine gently, comforting me and encouraging me to respond. She leans forward and brushing my hair behind me ear before cupping my face with her hand, her thumb brushing away at the absent small tear on my cheek.

 "Shhh lyubov moya, we know, or did you forget that I can read minds" she teases gently trying to ease the tension. She brings her lips to the side of my head and lets them brush gently against my temple before trailing them down to my cheek, leaving small trails of soft kisses. Her lips reach near my mouth before pulling away slightly:

 "If you don't want this Y/N we completely understand, just say the words and we'll leave you alone and let you move on-" before she could finish, I lean forward and capture her lips with mine.

 "I want this, I've wanted this for a while" before continuing to peck her lips repeatedly. I see Nat from the corner of my eye stand quietly before moving to sit in the armchair opposite the bed watching intently as Wanda pushes me gently so I'm lying flat on my back.

 She continues to straddle my waist and slowly unbuttoned my shirt before pulling it apart exposing my bare chest, the cool air hitting my breast making them harden instantly. Wanda hums in delight at the sight, her eyes darkening with a glint of red spiralling underneath her natural colour. She leans her head down towards my neck letting her nose brush lightly down the valley on my breasts barely touching my skin, her eyes lock with mine before looking over her shoulder at Nat who is now undressed from the waist down with the smallest pair of white panties on that barely cover her assets; a dark wet spot appearing indicating to her arousal, as she keeps her legs spread for us to see her hand trails slowly south towards her heat.

 "Mmm someone seems to be enjoying our performance, little one. Shall we give her more?" Her hands grip my shorts before pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor before leaving wet kisses from my ankle to inner thigh, tongue swirling and nibbling softly right near my core. I shiver and arch my back basking in the overwhelming feeling of her. She continues to tease me, brushing her nose against my panties before pulling away. I hear the floorboards creak quietly making Nat's movements known, I watch her as she stalks over towards us like a predator after its prey. She squats down so she's eye level with me her fingers grip my chin, making me turn my head to the side: facing her.

 "Such a pretty little thing, it would be a shame to put those luscious lips to waste, don't you agree Wanda?" She mocks, her question for the woman between my legs but her eyes stay locked with mine, darker with a glint of mischief.

 She moves forward and presses her lips to mine, trailing her tongue along my bottom lip making me gasp. Her tongue battles with my own before I take a hold of her bottom lip between my teeth and tug at it making her moan deep. I shiver slightly and turn my eyes downward towards Wanda who now has my panties in between her teeth as she drags them down slowly almost agonisingly slow her eyes locking with mine. Nat's attention now on my neck sucking gently.

 "Oh god"

 As soon as she's disposed of my panties her mouth is on me instantly, lapping her tongue over and over again, swirling around my folds before taking my clit into her mouth and sucking hard, making me moan out load.

 "She's so wet for us Nat, god I almost forgot how good she tasted"

 Nat chuckles softly before removing her panties giving me a great view of her pussy. I lick my lips in anticipation, excited at the thought of having Nat above me with my tongue inside of her. She smirks knowingly before slowly removing her tank top, showing her full breasts and climbing expertly above me so she's facing Wanda her pussy directly in view, dripping wet. I tilt my chin up trying to take a taste, but she hovers higher up away from me making me whine. I'm stopped from reaching any further by Wanda's hand grasping my breast her fingers twisting my nipple slightly as her tongue enters me, making me cry out.

 My cries are quickly stop by Nat, who lowers herself enough to let me taste her. I moan at how wet she is...how wet she is for us. The room is filled with low moans and desperate cries of passion as I continue to swirl my tongue around her entrance, Wanda brings her thumb up to my clit and rubs hard circles around the sensitive area making me pull away from Nat slightly, hips bucking wanting more of her.

 "Please Wanda, I need you inside me" I say desperately. She chuckles quietly before leaving my heated area and making her way up to my chest taking a nipple into her mouth and releasing it with a soft pop.

 “Come on now, dear. Let’s not torture her any longer” Nat teases from above me her voice breathless.

 "I got something much more pleasurable" she smiles wickedly, I watch in astonishment as her eyes turn a blood red but before I could question, I feel a strong wave of pleasure hit my core, Nat and I moaning out in unison.

 "Y/N if you don't put that fucking tongue back where it belongs, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week" Nat grumbles through her moans caused by Wanda's magic. I quickly tilt my chin up and plunge my tongue deep into her entrance. My hand desperately reaching for Wanda's pulling her closer. The waves of sensation hitting one after the other, faint sparks of red surrounds us. I feel Nat tense above me, bringing my hand up I gently rub at her clit, bringing her close to orgasm. She cries out before relaxing above me; I lap her up, taking every last drop of her orgasm.

 "Wanda you still have too many clothes on" I whine trying to blindly remove her clothes. I feel Nat move from above me and towards Wanda while she continues to tease up and down my body.

 "Y/N is right malen'kaya ved'ma (little witch), you are wearing far too many clothes" she says before gliding Wanda's long skirt and panties over her ass and dropping them in a heap on the floor, while she continues to kneel between my legs. I feel Wanda's hot breath hit my core as she gasps at the cool air hitting her warm skin. Her eyes glow a brighter red as Nat traces her finger up and down her folds before finding her entrance and quickening her pace, she leans her body over Wanda, so her lips are close to her ear as they both stare at me.

 "Hasn't she been good for us Wanda? I think she deserves an award" Nat whispers voice laced with lust slightly breathless.

 That familiar wave of electricity hits through my body to my core making me gasp as Wanda projects her pleasure to me. Being able to be in sync with her body and its reactions to pleasure, mixed with my own need for release, throws me over the edge as I feel the knot in my core relax making me slump against the pillow, Wanda not far behind. She collapses gently on top of me, her head resting against my chest listening to my rapid heartbeat start to slow. Nat moves around the side of the bed grabbing a throw over from the back of the armchair and covering us all up before curling into my side, kissing the top of Wanda's head and my cheek.

 "Does this mean you'll consider being with us Y/N, not just the sex but everything else that comes with it" Nat asks almost tentatively, scared of what I might say.

 "You guys had me the moment I laid eyes on you"

[yungidreamer]

Made Up

Summary: Our threesome is back again learning and growing. Yunho, Mingi, and their girl try their first day of being out and find the reactions of those around them to be difficult to anticipate.

Wordcount: 7.3k

Content warnings: Some cute moments and humor followed by some less happy moments. Angry sex that is a little rough, some coitus interruptus, and a little resolution.

They stepped through the doors to the third floor salon. It was the second place they had called yesterday, after deciding to move up their day of prissying themselves up, and had thankfully had space for both of the boys, and even her. It had been years since she had let anyone else do something to her hair. She took care of it, mostly kept it up and out of the way, so it was in decent condition. Still, she had some split ends and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get a trim. In the end with all the changes the boys were thinking of making, maybe it was time for her to do a little something as well.

They checked in at the counter and waited for each of their names to be called. None of them had told the others what it was they had decided to get done, wanting it to be a surprise. Yunho was brought back first, then their girl, and finally Mingi.

“Mingi,” said the chipper lean man with well cared for skin and a stylish long undercut. Mingi nodded and stood up, following him back along the long but narrow area where the stylists worked. He could see their girl in the back at a sink getting her hair washed. Yunho was in his chair, chuckling and chatting with the woman foiling his hair to bleach it a little lighter, especially the roots. Yunho met his eyes as he passed, offering a little wave as he went by. They stopped a few seats down, and Mingi flopped himself in the chair, looking at the man behind him through the mirror.

“My name is Jonny,” the man greeted as he started to examine Mingi’s hair. “It’s lovely to meet you today Mingi. So tell me, what are we doing today?”

“I want to go lighter,” Mingi started, running his fingers through his hair noting the dark roots he had developed as it had grown out. “And want to clean up the undercut, but keep the top longer.”

“That is a great choice, hun,” Jonny complemented. “With your long face, it would look really good. Let’s start lightening the color and then we will work on the cut.”

“Okay,” Mingi nodded, letting him throw the apron around him and set the chair at the right height.

“So is this for an occasion or something special,” Jonny asked, not really looking at him as he started to get some things ready to get started on bleaching his hair.

“Yeah, kinda,” Mingi hedged for a moment, trying to decide how to answer. He doubted either Yunho or their girl were near enough to hear, but overcoming the fear of being judged wasn’t about them hearing it was it? “The three of us are having a late Christmas gift. Our girlfriend got us reservations at a nice restaurant in the city.”

“Our girlfriend?” Jonny asked, flashing a slightly confused look at him as he started mixing the toner.

“Ye-yeah,” Mingi cleared his throat and tried to put on the air of confidence he used to hide behind as a kid. “The pretty one over there,” he pointed at their girl who was currently having a section of hair on one side of her head bleached. “And the cute guy we walked by,” he pointed at Yunho a few seats away. “We’re all together. Almost two years now, actually.” The last sentence came almost as a realization to himself. Had they really been together that long? It didn’t seem like it, and yet, at the same time, it felt like they had already been together forever.

“All three of you?” Jonny asked, looking between all of them, a little surprise filling his eyes. “Pfft, so unfair. Even at your age all the cute ones are taken.” Relief flooded Mingi. He had been a little surprised but nothing more, and his comment that all the cute ones were taken, yeah, that felt good to hear. They continued their chitchat, talking about a lot of nothing, with lots of laughter, making the time pass like a flash. Honestly, he had been so caught up in chatting with Jonny, and watching him do his work, that he hadn’t even remembered to try and sneak a peek at either Yunho or their girl.

When he finally remembered to try, the hairdressers kept being in the way. He was impatient and curious, now that it had crossed his mind. Jonny laughed as he saw Mingi crane his neck as he turned to try and get a peek.

“Hun, we are almost done,” he gave a high nasally laugh. “Just don’t move while I have the clippers. We don’t want any accidents.”

“Sorry,” Mingi gave a chagrined smile and stayed looking in the direction the man guided his head. He dutifully sat as Jonny expertly buzzed around him, trimming and shaping the lower part of Mingi’s hair. He had really needed this cut. They had been so busy with school that both he and Yunho had let their hair just grow out over the last few months. He didn’t mind, but it had started to look more and more messy rather than, as he had told himself, carefree. But for the dinner, he wanted to look good, he wanted to look like someone they could be proud of.

Jonny turned him, giving him a few final checks to make sure that he had everything just right, before he brushed the last of the stray hairs off his neck and took off the apron. With a wink he told him, “Okay, hun, go see your loves.”

Mingi jumped off his seat and moved down the length of the room to see what everyone else looked like. He found their girl first getting some last instructions about how to keep the color in her hair and a few tips about keeping her hair up and healthy. Most of her hair didn’t look too different, pulled back in a braided bun at the back of her head with the silver comb. But a section on the right side of her forehead had been left down and was now a vibrant violet that flowed down one side of her face.

“Whaaa,” Mingi breathed, drawing up behind them. “You look so good, babe.”

“You like it?” She asked, smiling at him through the mirror. “It’s not too much?”

“It’s perfect,” Mingi grinned as he reached out to touch her shoulder. “You’re gorgeous with that color.”

“Thank you,” she held his hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You are looking pretty good yourself. I like the light color...actually...you look a little like a Viking. Hot.”

“Should I go and plunder something,” he straightened up and put on a tough face. “Bring you home some treasure from distant lands?” 

“Oh honey,” she giggled. “I’d love that, but you and boats are not always a great mix.”

“Hey now,” he protested, hands on hips. “I’ve only had a few chances with boats and like, at least 50% of them have not ended up with all of us in the water.”

“Let’s get that percentage up to like...90% before you take a boat off to war,” her voice quivered with a barely suppressed snicker.

“You gonna teach me?” Mingi pressed a kiss to her cheek, using his hand on her chest and neck to hold her there for it. Her eyes widened at the gesture but she recovered quickly, leaning into his soft lips.

“Anything you’d like, my love,” she agreed.

“What do we have here,” Yunho chuckled as he joined them, running his fingers through his shock of blue-green hair, somewhere between teal and turquoise. The color looked amazing on him, the cheery yet calm color matched his personality so well, it felt like he should have been born with it.

“Wow,” she breathed, starting to turn towards him as Mingi straightened up. “I love it.”

“You look… so good,” Mingi’s eyes went a little wide and he shook his head a little as if it would help clear the fuzz from his mind.

“You like it?” Yunho questioned, looking at both of them. Mingi nodded, his eyes falling to Yunho’s quirked, perfect Cupid’s bow lips. The other boy noticed, and butterflies burst to life in his chest in the second before Mingi leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Yunho froze, shock momentarily stopping his body from functioning. Mingi had made a move, reaching for Yunho while the eyes of strangers were on them. When the surprise had finished washing through him, Yunho happily leaned into the kiss, putting his hands on Mingi’s jean covered hips.

“Awww,” said the girl who had done their girls hair. “You two are super cute.”

“Aren’t they?” Their girl said, grinning up at them.

“They are all together,” Jonny said, coming up behind her to hang off the other stylists shoulder. “Isn’t it cute… and completely unfair. I can’t even find one person who will put up with me, and they all have two.”

“How do you… okay, I think I shouldn’t ask what almost came out of my mouth there,” the stylist said, her voice petering out as the sentence went on.

“I can’t promise we’ll answer but,” their girl shrugged as she stood up and joined her boys. “You can ask if you are curious.”

“Just… is it like everything all together?” She skirted, trying to be tactful as she asked.

“Pretty much,” their girl nodded. “It works out pretty well when you figure it out. And it really helps when it all sort of started that way. It’s always been the three of us with most everything.”

“And again, I weep,” Jonny said dramatically. “I can’t find that with even one person.”

“You will,” Mingi assured him. “You’re really nice and funny.” He smiled and gave him a reassuring thumbs up as he kept one arm around Yunho’s waist.

“You… are… so cute,” Jonny put a hand to his heart and giggled. “If you ever break up, come back and track me down. Not that I’m holding my breath, okay?”

“Mmm,” Yunho narrowed his eyes at Jonny mostly jokingly but somewhere behind his eyes was a little spark of he’s mine. “I definitely suggest not holding your breath on that.” Leaning in to kiss the side of Mingi’s neck, even as he kept his eyes on the other man. Mingi blushed and giggled, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Don’t you ever, get jealous?” Her stylist asked, looking between her and the two boys. 

Their girl paused to think before answering. “No… well not really. I mean, sometimes I wonder if they really need me around, but I’m going to do better about saying something when I get those doubts.”

“She is the very best person,” Mingi said, going to her, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“Our girl is the glue,” Yunho agreed, hugging the both of them with his long arms. “And the smartest.”

“Pfft,” she rolled her eyes. “Please. Liiiieeees!”

“No, it’s true,” Mingi nodded fervently. “You are so good to both of us. We probably don’t deserve you.”

“You do,” she assured him. “I’m lucky to have both of you.” 

“Come on loves,” Yunho said as he touched them both gently. “We have more to do today.” With a last few thanks, they headed to the front of the shop to pay and head off to their next stop. With their dinner upcoming Mingi wanted to get a new suit and she needed a dress. They’d had places in mind before coming, having found shops only a couple of blocks apart. She would slip into her shop to get a little something she could wear, keeping it a little surprise for the night of the reservation, while the boys went together to get a suit fitted for Mingi.

Yunho and Mingi dropped their girl off at her shop and made their way to the suit and tailoring shop Mingi had decided to get his suit at. When they stepped into the shop they were immediately greeted by a very well dressed man who came to ask, in a slightly obsequious voice, how he could help them today. Slightly startled, Mingi stepped a little closer to Yunho at the man’s sudden appearance.

“We need to get a suit for my friend here,” Yunho answered, putting a steadying hand on Mingi’s lower back. “We have a special event on Friday and we were hoping to get something that was at least fitted for him, if not made for him.”

“Oh wonderful,” he said with a nod. “We should be able to get something made for you in a couple of days if we get it off to the team soon. Let’s get started. Please follow me.”

Both the boys looked at each other, excited about getting something new and fancy for Mingi to wear for the dinner. They were led towards the back of the store where the man set Mingi on a round built in step in front of a set of mirrors. While Mingi took off his extra layers to let the man measure him, Yunho took a seat in a cushy leather armchair a little off to the side.

“What were you thinking of for looks?” The man asked as he expertly whipped his measuring tape around Mingi’s outstretched limbs.

“I don’t know,” Mingi admitted, watching the man through the mirror. “I think I want something in light grey since Yunho’s suit is light grey.”

“Yunho?” The man questioned, without looking up from his work.

“Me,” Yunho replied from his seat in the chair. The man only nodded, kneeling down to measure Mingi’s inseam.

“Alright,” he stood up and tucked his notebook into his pocket. “Let’s look at some fabric.” They wandered over to a wall of gray fabric all gathered together along one section of a wall. The number of options felt overwhelming. Yes, they were all grey, but there were so many different shades, patterns, and textures. He had never seen such a sea of gray.

“What looks good to you?” The man asked, clasping his hands in front of him with a smile.

“I think something simple,” Mingi began. “Ummm, maybe not a strong pattern at least.”

“Good, maybe something classic?” The man nodded,  touching the first knuckle of his finger to his chin before pulling a couple of choices off the shelf for a closer look. While the man and Mingi looked at a few more options in the light gray, some checked, some heathers, and a few that were almost solid, Yunho stepped over a few shelves, drawn to a charcoal gray fabric sitting among the darker colors. It was a sort of heather, almost solid, with a fine grain to the fabric which almost gave it a sheen when the light hit it.

“Hey Mingi,” Yunho called as he looked at it on the shelf. “What about this one, I really like it. I think the color would be really good on you.”

“You think so? More than the light gray like yours?” Mingi asked, coming up beside him. 

“I think this,” he tapped on the fabric as the man came near to see for himself. “Would be an amazing color on you.”

“You think it’s okay if we don’t, sort of match?” An insecurity tinged Mingi’s voice. He wanted to look like he was with both of them, he didn’t want to seem like he was standing apart anymore.

“I think this is the perfect color for you.” Yunho agreed. “Matching isn’t the only thing that will say you’re with us, you know.”

“I think this color would be great on you,” the man agreed as he pulled it off over the shelf. “It would be great on your skin. Maybe with something bold like red or dark blue?”

“Red,” Mingi said excitedly. “Like a dark red.”

“Come with me,” The man said with a satisfied grin. He led them to a part of the room with shelves and shelves of button down shirts. From one of the top shelves, he pulled down a shirt of deep red, somewhere near the shade of a garnet, deep and rich. “What do you think?”

“Yes, that, I want that.” Mingi nodded eagerly.

“Good, good,” the man nodded with a pleased face. “Now let’s build your suit.”

The three of them sat down and picked out all the customizable elements of Mingi’s suit. They chose notch lapels and minimal padding in his shoulders, given how broad and well shaped he was already. They kept the profile smooth, opting for a welted pocket at the chest and no flaps on his waist pockets. Mingi chose to have two vents on his back since it gave a little sleeker look for his shape. For his lining, he picked a red paisley that felt fun and classic, even if no one was going to see it. At the prompting of the man who had measured him, he chose to get a matching vest with tightly set buttons down the center and a slightly rounded neckline.

“You are going to look so good in this,” Yunho said eagerly as they finalized the details. “I’m even more excited for dinner now. You’re sure you can get this done in a few days?”

“Yes, absolutely, you can pick it up in the early afternoon Friday,” He nodded confidently. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“Actually,” Yunho looked a little shy as he decided to bring it up. “Do you happen to have a tie and pocket square that is something close to my hair color?”

“Hmmm, let’s see what we have,” the man walked confidently to a back corner of the store where ties in more colors than either of the boys thought was possible. With a quick assessing glance at Yunho’s freshly colored head, he turned to the section filled with blues and greens and pulled out three or four in the turquoise to sea green section. Standing Yunho in front of a mirror, he draped them over his shoulders to let him see them on himself.

“Do you like this color?” He asked, holding up a tealish turquoise. 

Yunho nodded, then added, “Is there something like this but maybe not quite so bright?”

“How about this?” The man picked up one with a plaid pattern to it in shades of teal and very fine shots of black which accented the pattern. The mix of shades, leaning heavily towards teals and not overly saturated.

“Yes,” Yunho replied firmly. “I love this. It’s perfect. What about a pocket square?”

“I have just the thing to go with this,” the man grinned excitedly before leaning down to open one of the drawers below, pulling out a little box with a pleased flourish. He opened it revealing the same tie, a pocket square in the same pattern and a set of button cufflinks capped with the same material.

“Perfect,” Mingi grabbed his arm excitedly from beside him, giving him a quick kiss to his cheek and bouncing slightly. Yunho laughed and leaned his head towards the other boy. 

“What about for you, young man?” He directed the question to Mingi.

“Yes, maybe something that is the same color as the suit?” Mingi suggested, eyes scanning the wall. The man nodded and pulled out a few recommendations from the selection for them to look at. After a few tries, they settled on a dark grey tie with a barely there floral pattern woven into it, which was also a full set with a pocket square and cufflinks. The man cleared his throat and took the boxes with him to the register where Mingi’s shirt and suit order were waiting for them. He took a number for Mingi, to let him know when everything was done or to call if they had any issues, checked them out at the register and wished them a very good day before heading back to the employee only area behind a solid wooden door at the back of the shop.

Mingi and Yunho exited the shop and headed out on the street with their large paper bags hooked around their wrists. Just as Yunho was about to call their girl to check in on her, he noticed her relaxing against the brick wall of the building, entertaining herself by scrolling through her phone as she stood quietly, holding a bag of her own.

“Hey, love,” He greeted, coming close to her. “You should have said you were done, you could have joined us.”

“I know,” she smiled, tucking her phone into her bag. “I want Mingi’s look to be a surprise though.”

“Okay, as long as you know we would have been happy to have you,” Yunho told her, leaning in to kiss the top of her head before lifting her up into a big hug.

“What’s left?” Mingi asked, holding her and rocking slightly as her feet dangled off the ground.

“Makeup, sweetheart,” she replied, smiling into his shoulder.

“How are you doing that today?” Mingi asked, slightly confused.

“I have a look in mind and I need to buy some new makeup to do it with,” she explained. “Plus if we go to a proper counter, I can get some tips and see what the stuff looks like on me.”

“Can I get some too?” Mingi asked as the idea flitted through his mind that… he wanted to look pretty too.

“Do you want to?” She pulled back to look at him, a little surprise showing in the angle of her eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” Mingi suddenly felt a little self conscious. “Would it look bad on me?”

“No babe,” Yunho said, stepping in. “You’d look amazing. I think we should all get it done.”

“No that’s a good idea,” she agreed. “I haven’t done anything on someone else, but maybe I can watch when they do yours and help you with it on Friday.”

“Okay,” Mingi grinned. “Let’s go then.”

“Alright then, just a final touch,” the woman said as she leaned in to brush a last little bit of eye shadow on Mingi’s lid as their girl hovered nearby, taking mental notes. Yunho already had his look, a light natural one that really just made his eyes pop and with a light gloss that made his lips look just that shade more kissable.

When she pulled back, Mingi opened his eyes and gave a few blinks before turning to their girl for her approval. She gave him a smile and a big thumbs up as she looked at him and his finished look. Mingi felt relief even before he looked at himself in the mirror offered to him by the makeup artist. Looking at himself, he liked the way the eyeshadow accented his long smooth eyelids, making them feel a little deeper set. It wasn’t a lot but he felt like his eyes were a little brighter and a little prettier.

“Here are your things,” she passed him the shadow set and eyeliner pencil. “Em over there can help you get the brushes you need. You look so good. It’s so nice to see guys who are confident enough to try on some makeup.”

“My boys are really awesome,” she lifted her chin proudly as she looked at both of them.

“Aww, you’re a good friend,” the woman cooed, cleaning her brushes in the pause between them. Their girl didn’t really reply, just gave a smile as she took the seat, watching Mingi and Yunho get the last of the things they needed.

“Would you mind waiting to do my look until I can shoo them off?” She asked the makeup artist quietly.

“You don’t want them to see you?” She asked, giving her a slightly surprised flash as she looked up at her.

“I want to be able to surprise them for dinner on Friday,” their girl shrugged.

“Oh you’re all having a celebration dinner together?” The woman asked. “I somehow thought it was their anniversary or something.”

“Well, it sort of is,” their girl shrugged, giving Mingi a wave as he held up a bundle of brushes the other person was selling him. “But it’s all of ours.”

“Like…as friends?” She asked, looking between them.

“Like as lovers and friends and partners,” she filled in slowly. She could see a myriad of questions flicker behind her eyes.

“Hey, babe,” Mingi greeted, proudly holding his bag full of goodies along with his bag from the suit shop. “You haven’t started yet.”

“Nope, I want it to be a surprise still,” she gave him a chagrined smile. “Would you mind if I message you when I’m done?”

“Awww I want to see how you do it.” Mingi pinched his lips together and frowned. “Will you show me later at least?”

“Of course,” she rushed to promise him. “How about I promise to teach you how to put the look on me when we get home?”

“Really?” He was actually excited by the idea. “Okay, if you promise. I’ll take Yunho with me.”

“Thank you, my love,” she told him, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before practically skipping off to grab Yunho and take him to look around the store as they waited for her.

“Okay, let’s get started,” the woman said as she saw the two boys disappear around a corner. “First, tell me what you want, let’s get a good idea of what you are looking for.”

“I really want something sort of art deco.” Reaching for her shopping bag, she pulled out a little of her dress, revealing the color and texture of the fabric. “The cut is somewhere similar to something from the 1920s or 30s.”

“I think I have the perfect idea,” the woman nodded. “Something with gold accents and very 1920s and Gatsby-ish, without going in the vamp direction. Sound good?”

“That sounds like exactly what I want,” she replied eagerly.

“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of things?” The makeup artist asked, as she pulled a couple of things out of the drawer.

“Uh, why not… Meredith?” she said, reading the tag on the woman’s shirt.

“Call me Mer,” the woman laughed. “I’m going to start with some foundation, first.”

As Mer pulled out a couple of shades to test out the best one for her, the younger woman looked at her assessingly, wondering why it was she seemed so curious. She was pretty, maybe in her late 20s or her early 30s, with shoulder length blond hair, the top half of which was held back in a clip on the back of her head. Her eyes were a bright green leaning hazel and she had smattering of light freckles over her cheeks and nose that were barely visible under her expertly done makeup.

“Okay, chin up like this,” Mer said, lifting her chin with one finger to angle her face into the light.

“Right, yes,” she angled her face and closed her eyes with a sigh.

“So,” Mer said quietly as she began to use the sponge to put a layer of foundation on. “Two boyfriends, huh? How did that happen?”

“Uh, well we all met in high school,” she answered, purposely staying slightly vague. “We just sort of decided we all fit together and we’ve been together since then.”

“Really?” The older woman asked with interest. “So it wasn’t like two of you were dating and you just sort of integrated someone else?”

“No, it was always all of us together,” she shrugged. “Since the start.” They lapsed into silence minus Mer explaining what she was doing and making notes for her on the order and application of the makeup she was putting on her. The woman really was a good teacher, going through things in a very step by step way, including how things should feel when you are getting the placement correct.

Her lips were the very last thing they worked on, trying a couple of different colors before they settled on a deep bluish red that was just a shade more pigmented than her dress. Her eyes couldn’t help but watch the woman as she concentrated on lining her lips with the smooth pencil. Meredith bit her lip and her eyes flicked up to meet her eyes as she finished lining her lips. She would have sworn she saw a blush spread over the makeup artist's cheeks under the fine powder as she turned away to look for the lip brush she was going to use to apply the lovely new lipstick.

“Okay so when you do your lips,” Meredith explained as she brushed the first layer of color on. “Color your lips completely with a brush and then you want to blot with a tissue. After that, reapply and you can also put on a little powder over it if you really want it to stay. And here, let’s look at the final look.”

Turning the mirror toward her, Meredith let her look at herself. She felt beautiful and it was the perfect look for her dinner celebration with the boys. She turned and gave the woman who had done it a warm smile and caught that same faint pink on her cheeks as she smiled back. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she took a couple of pictures to help her remember and then send a message to the boys that she was done.

“I really hate to ruin your amazing work,” she gave the older woman an apologetic look. “But I still want this all to be a surprise for them.”

“Oh of course,” Meredith quickly nodded and reached for the makeup wipes she kept on the little counter. She packed up new versions of all the makeup she had used on the younger woman as she left her to clean off her face. Sealing them nicely in a bag, she gave her coworker the total so that she could ring the girl up as soon as she was done.

“These things really work well,” she commented when she noticed the makeup artist coming back towards her.

“I know, they are real lifesavers when you need them,” Meredith agreed with a smile as she looked at the other woman’s bare face. She really was just so pretty. “Hey, what if I just put the lipstick on? It is such a good color on you.”

“Sure,” she nodded. “I suppose that really isn’t a spoiler and the color makes me feel really cute.”

“You look beautiful in it,” Meredith admitted quietly as she pulled out the lip pencil again. She lined the lips and put on the first layer of lipstick before she had gathered up the courage to ask the question she had been wanting to ask for the past 45 minutes. “Umm, have you guys ever considered, you know… adding a fourth?”

Her eyes widened slightly as she looked up at the makeup artist who was very diligently swiping her lower lip with the brush. Now she was sure she had been seeing a blush just there under her makeup. Surprise flickered through her at the realization the older woman had a… crush, she couldn’t think of a better word for it, on her… on them. However, that surprise was nothing compared to the level of shock that spiked through her a moment later when, after a second’s hesitation, the woman cupped her cheeks and leaned in to press a very warm, close-mouthed kiss to the lips she had just finished coloring in for a second time.

For a brief moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, she froze. Even as the woman had asked if they had ever considered adding more people to their mix, she hadn’t thought she would be so forward. It could have been embarrassed curiosity, or that she had an interest in one of the boys. There were a million things that she might have guessed before she would have thought this would happen.

When she finally moved past the shock, she pushed the woman away with a gentle hand on her shoulder, still more surprised than angry. That, however, was not the case for Yunho who had rounded the corner of the area containing the shop just in time to see the woman lift their girls face into a kiss. Time froze and the din of people shopping and chatting was suddenly lost to a buzzing that filled his ears. That moment of their lips pressed together seemed to last forever until their girl finally, FINALLY, pushed her away, the dark lipstick now smudged on both their lips.

A hot anger prickled over his skin and he strode forward, grabbing their girl by the wrist and pulling her none too gently off the high chair she was perched on. He grabbed her shopping bag with his free hand and started to move out of the store.

“Mingi, pay for all her stuff and come outside,” he said to the other boy through gritted teeth. “I’m going to get a cab and then we are going back to the room.”

Mingi nodded, eyes slightly wide at the barely contained venom in Yunho’s voice, moving quickly to pay for the bag of things already waiting at the counter. He had noticed what was happening only after Yunho, when the boy suddenly stopped in his tracks, standing silent as his eyes burned. Mingi turned to look in the direction of whatever had caused Yunho to react like that, wanting to know what he saw. He caught only the last of the kiss, that last half second before she pushed the other woman away. The sight had caused a knot in his stomach and pain lanced through him. But maybe I deserve it, the thought briefly whispered through his head just before Yunho stepped forward and grabbed their girl.

He paid for the makeup, barely looking up at either of the people working there, before he jogged out of the store after the other two. The woman, the one who had done their makeup, tried to apologize or explain, but Mingi just shrugged her off, wanting to get out of there more than anything. He found Yunho on the curb, holding open the door of a cab that already had their girl waiting inside. He met Yunho’s eyes and jogged around the other side of the car to get in as Yunho ducked inside the door he was standing at.

Yunho gave the driver the address of their bed and breakfast then fell into a tense silence. His hand came to rest on her thigh as she sat quietly between them. He couldn’t look at her right now, but he needed to touch her. His grip slowly tightened to an almost bruising level just above her knee as he kept his eyes out the window on the city as they passed it all by.

On the other side, Mingi held her hand in both of his, nervously squeezing and petting her much smaller hand. He didn’t say anything, instead offered her sad half smiles when their eyes happened to meet. Unable to bring herself to say anything, she leaned her head into his upper arm, half apology, half hoping to find some sympathy there.

Pulling up outside where they were staying, Yunho pulled out a few bills, more than enough to pay for the ride and got out without waiting for change. Their girl slipped out quickly behind him, accepting as he grabbed her wrist and led her up to the room without a word.

As soon as they were inside Yunho slammed the door closed behind them, the sound filling the silence like a gunshot. Both Mingi and their girl stood frozen as Yunho leaned against the wall, his head leaning against his balled fists.

“Yunho, I’m sorry,” she tried to start, only to have his eyes turn on her with a dark flash, catching the words in her throat.

“Are we not enough?” Yunho choked out.

“What? No, I mean, yes! Yunho I didn’t—” she started only to have his lips crash into hers. His hands were yanking at her clothes to pull them off. Her shirt was pulled off over her head carelessly, pulling her hair and smearing her lipstick even more, then her jeans as he backed her closer to the bed. He turned her to face the bed, his fingers fumbling with the clasp of her bra.

“Do you want me,” he asked from behind her, his voice a hoarse growl.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered, holding her bra against the front of her body.

“Lie down,” Yunho ordered harshly. She crawled onto the bed and started to turn over only to be stopped by a sharp, “No,” from Yunho who was still stripping behind her. It took her a second to figure out that he didn’t want her on her back. Laying down on her stomach, she turned her face to the side and waited.

“Yunho,” Mingi touched his arm gently. “Don’t do this because you’re mad.”

“She needs to be reminded that she’s ours,” Yunho replied, a chill to his voice.

“It’s okay Mingi,” she said quietly from the bed. “Yuyu wouldn’t… he just needs to let it out.” Mingi let it drop and sat down on the foot of the bed. Crawling up over her on the bed Yunho spread her thighs before reaching for the lube and covering himself. Angling himself to enter her, he took her wrists and pinned them next to her shoulders.

“You love me, you love us,” he said as he slid his head inside and leaned more of his weight onto his hands that held her.

“I love both my boys,” she nodded, feeling the heat of his skin pressing against her. “They are the only ones for me.”

“I don’t believe you,” Yunho growled, his voice quavering as he made the accusation. “Convince me.” With a jerk he thrust into her completely and she stiffened beneath him, but didn’t protest. He was being rough and she hadn’t been completely ready for it, her body protesting at the stretch. Despite his anger and his need to punish her for the pain she had caused him, he paused, gripping her wrists as he waited to feel her relax under him.

“I love you, Yuyu,” she said, forcing herself to relax and turning her face more into the pillows beneath it.

“I don’t--” Yunho exhaled and clenched his jaw. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe either of you.” He closed his eyes and started moving inside her. She didn’t reply but moved to give him a better angle inside her. Letting go, Yunho moved with all the frustration that had pent up in him over the past few days.

Mingi turned to look at them over his shoulder more than a little conflicted as he felt a pang of arousal at seeing their girl nearly hidden beneath Yunho as he moved roughly in her. Needing a little more space, he moved to sit in the arm chair in the corner of the room. He couldn’t watch, but he couldn’t really bring himself not to at the same time. The bed creaked under his movements and he could hear both of their breathing increase, neither of them speaking.

Yunho pressed his face into the pillows near her head as he moved, taking the comfort of her body. His heart hurt and there didn’t seem to be any words that could explain the tempest of emotions moving through him. The doubts that had come up over the last few days… he had never had them gnawing at the edge of his mind like they were now. He was angry that they were making him doubt things he had never doubted before.

“Yuyu,” she said softly. “I’m not gonna leave. I don’t want anyone else. You’re it. I’m not going to go. It doesn’t matter what anyone else does. It’s only you.”

Yunho squeezed his eyes shut as a prickle of tears filled them. He let go of her wrists and lifted himself up. She didn’t move even when his weight lifted off her, just waiting for whatever he wanted, what he needed. With a far more gentle touch, he coaxed her to turn over and a wave of guilt and hurt hit him in the chest. Her hair was a mess and the lipstick was smeared across her cheek and chin and on the pillow that had been under her face. Even so, she still reached for him, pulled him back to her, wanting to comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, moving back to her.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, cradling him with her hips and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

He curled around her, sliding himself back inside her as he kissed her temple. “I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”

“I’m always here,” she promised, leaning her forehead into his shoulder. “I’ll never turn you away.”

“You should have,” he shook his head.

“You needed me,” she replied softly.

“I always need you,” he admitted. “I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore if I don’t have you two.”

“You’re Yunho,” Mingi said, sitting on the bed beside them. “Best boy, reliable rock, and one of the loves of my life.”

Yunho reached out, taking Mingi’s hand and kissing his knuckles. He entwined his fingers with Mingi’s as the other boy lay down beside them, still wearing his clothes. Reaching out with his other hand, he pressed his palm against Yunho’s broad back. Yunho leaned over and kissed Mingi’s cheek before he looked down at their girl again.

“I like the color of the lipstick,” Yunho observed with a self deprecating laugh. “I just wish it didn’t remind me of…”

“I know,” she agreed, stroking his cheek. “But we can build new memories with it. Someday you won’t even think of it. Or I can just go buy another color.”

“No, I… it’s really pretty on you,” he shrugged and smiled down at her. “Do you mind if we stop? It… I’m not really in the right mood.”

“No, it’s okay,” she easily agreed. “Do you maybe just want us to hold you for a little?”

“Please,” he nodded, his eyes watering. “I just… I just want to be close.” When he rolled off her, she turned on her side, and cuddled up against him, one leg thrown over his hips.

“We’ve really been a fucking mess this trip, haven’t we?” She asked, resting her head against his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his chest.

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed. “Can we promise to do something actually fun tomorrow? No tears, no running away, no strangers?”

“Yes please,” she said, feeling a couple of tears leak out of the corner of her eye and onto Yunho’s warm chest.

“Can I ask what happened?” Mingi asked, putting a hand over hers as he cuddled closer along the other side of Yunho.

“I’m not completely sure,” she shook her head. “She mostly seemed really curious and then she asked if we had ever considered adding a fourth just before she kissed me. I should have pushed her away faster but I just never expected her to do that.”

“I never thought that would be a possible downside to being out,” Yunho admitted, staring up at the ceiling.

“Me neither,” she agreed. “Promise we can do everything together tomorrow. I’m tired of accidentally ending up alone on this trip.”

“Everything,” Yunho promised.

“Maybe not going to the bathroom,” Mingi added after a second. “But everything else.”

“Fair, yes,” she laughed. “I can generally pee on my own. But if that changes, I’ll let you know.”

“Okay,” Yunho kissed the top of her head. “I’m getting hungry, but I want to lay here just a little longer.”

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[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 12

Alright chapter 12 lets goooo. Another slightly slower chapter, but I promise that its gonna be picking up real soon. Also Pami wrote the irl bit because shes the coolest and I love her :D

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now​ Thank you to @rivys​ for beta reading and editing!

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~~~

Dream stared at his friend, confusion and worry filling his mind. The teenager had been staring into space for the past minute or so, not responding to either him or Tubbo. Dream hadn’t been too concerned, until he noticed that Tommy was crying.Tears were streaking down Tommy’s face, forging a path on his cheeks. His expression was filled with a mixture of hope and fear, his eyes glazed over, like he was listening to something that no one else could hear. 

“Tommy? Hellooo? You ok?” Dream asked, waving a hand in front of his face. No response. He glanced over at Tubbo, trying to see if he had any ideas. Instead, when Dream made eye contact with him, Tubbo flinched and sank back into his seat, as if trying to disappear. Right. Of course Tubbo was scared of him. Everyone was scared of him. 

“You know I’m not going to hurt you, right?” He asked, trying to lighten the mood.

The younger brunette stared at him in fear, unsure of how he was supposed to respond. If Dream had said those same words to him a month ago, he would have ran, no questions asked. Now though, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know this man, had no idea what he was like. All he had to go off of was what Tommy had said. 

His eyes darted over towards his spaced out friend. “What did you do to him?” He asked, struggling to keep the tremor out of his voice. He had only stood up to Dream once, and it had resulted in him nearly losing his arm. Slowly, as to not draw attention to himself, he moved his hand to the hilt of his sword. If this went south, then he sure as hell needed to be ready to defend himself. 

“Nothing! I didn’t do anything, I promise” Dream dropped the bow and put his hands up in an attempt to show he meant no harm. He understood why Tubbo was so scared of him, but that didn’t change the fact that it stung. How could it not? Someone who he had thought of as a friend was now trembling before him in fear. 

“Look, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if you hurt Tommy in any way I will not hesitate to run you through.” Tubbo’s voice shook with fear, despite his best attempts at keeping it steady. 

Seeing the young teenager like this, Dream couldn’t help but be filled with pity and sadness. He was only 16, still just a kid. He should have been worried about homework, or some other small problem. He shouldn’t be stressing over whether or not he was going to live through the day, or who was going to try and hurt him next. It just wasn’t right.

Dream nodded, his hands still raised.“I promise, Tubbo, I didn’t do anything, and I don’t plan on hurting either of you.”

“Tubbo…” A soft voice startled them both. Tommy was now staring at the fallen bow, the tears freely flowing. 

Tubbo’s attention was instantly drawn to his best friend, his eyes filled with overwhelming concern. “Hey man, you ok?” 

Tommy looked up at his friend. A pang of homesickness shot through him. Everything about the boy next to him felt… wrong. He knew that it was still Tubbo, but that didn’t change the fact that it didn’t seem right. He was too tense, too nervous. It was as if at any moment, he could be attacked. It was so different from the laid back attitude of his Tubbo. The one that got excited over the smallest things. The one who casually went around killing people in game for no real reason. Tommy couldn’t help but miss the energetic and fun loving Tubbo from his own world. Still, he was still his friend. 

Without hesitation, Tommy reached over to give his friend a hug. The tears continued to flow as the words of the message replayed in his mind. ‘I swear, we’re gonna figure something out and get you guys out of there. I promise.’ It wasn’t much to go off of, but goddammit what did he have to lose? 

Tubbo couldn’t help but flinch at the sudden hug. “Hey, is everything alright?” 

“Sorry, sorry” Tommy quickly said, backing up and giving his friend space. He frantically wiped the tears off his face and tried to compose himself. “Yeah, I’m good.” “What the hell was that? You just zoned out, are you sure you’re ok?” Dream asked. 

“I uh, I think I just got a message from Tubbo. Our Tubbo,” he made sure to clarify. “Apparently he’s been working with Wilbur and the other Tommy to try and bring us home…” 

Dream felt his jaw drop. “Wait, really?! You’re kidding!” 

“I swear to you that I am not joking. Trust me, I want to go home as much as you do.”

“How?! What did he say? What do we do?” 

“There’s- There’s a console. Apparently it's like the server console back home, but it's an actual physical computer here. According to Tubbo it has the ability to do some really weird shit.” 

“Like run regular commands?” 

“Yeah, pretty much. Damn, imagine what kinda fucked up shit you could do with that kinda thing…” 

“Uh huh, imagine what kind of fucked up shit this other Dream already did with that thing.” 

“Fuck, you’re right.” 

“So how exactly does this help us get home?” 

“Right, right. I guess that the other Dream figured out how to swap people’s souls across dimensions or something with it.”

Dream’s face lit up as he made the connection. “We could do it too! We could use the command to swap us back and put everything back to normal!” A rush of excitement filled him. Finally, finally they had some direction. They actually had a goal, something to work towards. They had hope. “Where is it? Where can we find it?” 

“See, that's the problem. Actually, there's two problems. One, we don’t know the command. Tubbo was thinking if we could make it to the console, we might be able to communicate with them and figure something out.”

“Wait, what? How would that even work?” 

Tommy shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m honestly just hoping that Tubbo knows what he’s doing.”

“Riiight. So what's the other problem?” 

Tommy took a deep breath and tried to find something, anything else to look at. He didn’t want to look Dream or Tubbo in the eyes when he told them the truth. Eventually, his eyes rested on the white, porcelain mask that hung on the wall. The simple smile seemed to bore into his very soul, taunting him in a way. He looked away. “The computer is super far away. Apparently it takes a couple days to reach on foot.” 

“Ok? And?” 

“According to the other Tommy, the other Dream is going to delete the server in a little less than 48 hours, which would most likely result in every single one of us dying a very painful death.” 

Dream let out a low whistle. “Right. So you’re telling me that we have to go and find this super powerful computer that's really far away, try to come up with a plan, and figure out what the right command is within the next 48 hours, or the world will be deleted and we all die.” 

“Yeah pretty much.” 

“Right. Ok, no pressure.” he ran a hand through his hair, already trying to figure out what the best course of action was. “Where exactly is the console?” 

“He said it’s in this room made out of bedrock in the middle of a dark forest, almost directly east of us.”

Dream nodded. “Got it. Tommy, go let George know what's going on. See if he wants to join us. It’d probably be smart to have someone who actually knows what they’re doing with us. I’m going to get together some supplies.” 

“Got it. Tubbo, do you wanna come with us?” Tommy asked, startling the brunette. 

He had been deep in thought, trying to keep up with the conversation. He was confused, but he also didn’t want to ask any questions and risk angering Dream. He shook his head. “I’m good. You guys uh, you’ll need someone to cover for you, right? I can tell Wilbur what's going on…” He was lying, of course. He just didn’t want to spend any more time around Dream. Sure, Tommy trusted him, but that didn’t change the fact that just looking at the man brought back painful memories. 

“Ok, that's probably smart. Make sure he knows that the other Tommy is safe, ok? He’s going to be coming home soon.” 

A slight smile crossed Tubbo’s face. “Alright. I can do that. I’ll uh, I’ll see you guys later then.” He rushed out of the base, running towards L’manberg. 

Dream and Tommy were silent, neither of them mentioning the obvious. If all went according to plan, then they would never see this version of Tubbo again. 

~~~

“Florida?!” Tubbo cried, flabbergasted. “We’re going to Florida? That’s like a 9 hour flight!” All this SMP stuff was making his head spin. First, it was just Tommy and Dream’s disappearance, then it escalated to something much, much worse. His friends’ lives were at stake if they didn’t do anything. He honestly didn’t want to believe Tommy, but something told him that what he’s saying is true.

“Look, I’m used to taking on my problems in person. I can’t just sit in front of this thing- whatever weird gadget this is- and do nothing! We have to go there!” Tommy explained.

“Tommy, what will you tell everyone else? What will you tell your parents? You can’t just prance up to them and go ‘hello dearest parents! As it turns out, I’m not your son, but I’m him from another dimension! Y’know how he plays that video game? It’s that dimension! Anyways, I’m off to Florida to go do a murder! I’ll be home before dinner!’ How do you think that’s gonna go down?” Wilbur said.

“Will, I know what I’m doing! This psychopath is gonna try to kill my friends. I need to save them.” Tommy told them desperately. “If we reach him, we can get to his computer and I can go home!”

“We don’t even know where he lives, Tommy!” Wilbur retaliated. 

“Well, I might.” Tubbo said, nonchalantly.

Wilbur blinked. “You what? You’re not going to hack him, Tubbo-” 

“He isn’t our Dream, Will. This is probably the only chance we have to do this! Lives are at stake!”

“But there’s laws--” Wilbur sighed, pulling on his face in resignation. He still had trouble believing in this. Dimension travel? Souls? A few days ago he’d say they never existed. But, now… “Okay, fine. I can get us three to Florida. Earliest flight I can get us will be at about five-in-the-morning. We find Dream and we…” Wilbur trailed off.

“Kill him.” Tommy gritted out.

“NO!” Wilbur and Tubbo shouted.

“Tommy, we are not going to kill him. We need our Dream and Tommy to come back and send both of you back. If you kill him-” Wilbur explained.

“Okay, fine,” Tommy sighed, cutting off whatever it was Wilbur was about to say. “We won’t kill him. We just need to hold him long enough for him to tell us the command.”

“And what if he refuses to tell us?” 

“Then we make him tell us.” 

~~~

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