#Was worried about damaging my paper the amount of times I erased his eyebrows

[unordinary-diary]

Blyke in Season 3.

This is my prediction. With the way Season 2 ended, I think they’ll find Blyke months later looking something like this.

Shit happens to people in prison. Terrence was murdered in his cell, Rein was worried about being killed by other inmates, hell, Blyke’s already pretty banged up in the finale and he’s been there for 2.5 seconds. Not to mention that the Authorities seem to have no problem torturing kids *COUgh* Keon.

Perhaps it’s a bit pessimistic, but the story’s been getting a lot darker lately. I doubt Blyke’s getting out of prison without a little extra trauma at least.

Latest Chapter as of Prediction: Side Story — Triple Threat (1)

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 3

Summary: While his bride is exacting her plans from the very first day in Little Palace, the Darkling finds he has a soft spot for the enemy.

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, angst

Part one // Part two

=================================

The last thing Y/N expected upon waking up was to wake up alone. Spreading out in the bed, she huffed a loose strand of her hair off her face. Narrowing her eyes, she stared up at the canopy with her wicked husband on her mind.

After the way he had acted the night before, she found herself wondering what game he’s playing. They were meant to be married in paper only, yet he seems to have a possessive streak that extends to her as well. A part of her wasn’t sure if he truly had a shred of decency within considering he didn’t take advantage of their marital status, but the other part of her wasn’t easily swayed. That part of her remained defiant as it was forged in a fire the Darkling set. Intentionally or not, his actions have damaged her before they ever even met and she wasn’t very forgiving.

Opening the door, unannounced, strolled in the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen. Her long, auburn hair was perfectly styled and framed her face without obscuring an inch of her stunning beauty.

Genya, she realized. Even on the other side of the fold, Y/N knew of the empresses’ tailor.

Large, amber eyes fix on Y/N who slowly sat up. She stared at Genya without shame, admiring her appearance.

“Well, from what the general told me, I expected I’d have more work on my hands.” Genya huffs, her hands on her hips as her lips form a thin line.

“I have nothing wrong with me”, Y/N defends, graciously getting out of the bed that was far too comfy considering who she shared it with. “And where is the general?” Raising her eyebrow, Y/N folded her arms. No matter where he disappeared to, she couldn’t let him wander too far in case he tries to break their agreement and attend a meeting alone.

Humming, Genya didn’t try to hide her curiosity as she looked Y/N up and down. “Are you sure you don’t need my services?”

Glancing at the door, Y/N saw the servants waiting in front for a command. “Leave us”, Y/N waves them off, swiftly closing the door behind them. Her eyes settle on a seemingly startled Genya who cocks her head to the side.

“Interesting. So you do need me?”

Inhaling deeply, Y/N nods. Coming closer, her eyes remain on Genya’s whose gaze drifts at first. Once Y/N stopped before her, their eyes met.

“I need you, but not as a tailor.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Genya steps back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N licked her lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you hate the emperor and you’d do anything to make sure he never lays a hand on you?”

Genya’s nostrils flare, her lips drawing back between her pearly whites. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m loyal to my emperor.”

“I know”, Y/N reaches for her hand, “I’m saying if your loyalties shifted, I’d make sure that fat fuck died in agonizing pain.”

Yanking her hand out of Y/N’s reach, Genya stepped back with wide eyes.

Gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip, Y/N wished she was more tactful. Hearing of Genya and her fate, she assumed she’d gladly ally with her in this fight. Not only does she need Genya on her side to fight against Kirigan, but the emperor as well. Genya would have been an ideal ally if only she was willing to hear her out. But she should have waited, befriended the Grisha. She should have been more tactful.

“Does the general know of the treasonous plans you speak of?”

Chuckling in disbelief, Y/N shakes her head, “Do you truly believe I’d be breathing if he did?”

Pursing her lips, Genya turned her back on Y/N, contemplating all the possibilities that could stem from her decision.

“It’s a lot, I know, but I am here with a few secrets of my own.” Y/N takes a step closer, her hand clasping Genya’s shoulder as a show of support. “I realize you barely know me, but we can change that now.”

“How?” Genya whispers, more to herself than Y/N who released a shaky sigh.

“By revealing a secret that would be lethal for me if you shared it with anyone.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Genya’s eyes narrowed at Y/N who felt genuine, more than anyone had been since the day she arrived in the Palace. Despite the initial mistrust, Genya nods.

The guards stationed outside of Y/N’s room only heard a loud gasp behind closed doors, unaware that very gasp was a start of a friendship that would define Ravka’s future.

Meanwhile, the Darkling had spent the morning out in the fields. Riding his favorite horse usually served as a way to distract his mind from ongoing worries, but it had no such effect today. No amount of speed or distance could possibly erase the feeling of Y/N’s hand on his body, much less of her body pressing against him.

He behaved as a pious man, an honorable gentleman with self-restrain of a saint. If he could, he’d have taken her without regrets, but he never crossed that line and doing so with a woman meant to be his wife would set him on a path of no return – of true evil.

The Darkling may have done some heinous things, but they were never without reason. If he had done anything against her wishes, he’d be beyond redemption and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth every time he imagined himself losing his mind around her long enough for her to turn him into the villain she sees him as.

Another thing he’s decided to do is break the rule he knew she expected him to uphold – sleeping in separate chambers was the worst thing for them now. He had to be in her bed every night, regardless if she wanted to let him between her legs or not. He wouldn’t force her, that much would be true, but he wouldn’t sleep in his own room anymore. The room they were given last night would be the one he goes to, stumbles to, crawls to, in order to fall asleep beside her. And though it’s a risk as he could easily find himself with his throat cut, he refused to back down.

Dismounting, he headed to the map room where his subordinates waited for further instructions regarding the war.  

“Shall we start?” The Darkling tossed his riding gloves on the desk as he looked at his people. A new face caught his attention, making him do a double take until his dark skies narrowed at her.

“Now that you’ve arrived”, Y/N stands, smiling sweetly. “I believe we can present to you what we’ve discussed while you were off on a joy ride.”

There’s nothing sweet about her, Darkling realizes. Even her smile is coated in honey but laced with poison.

 He licked his lips, “Well, if you want my opinion-“

“I don’t”, she stood her ground, “I have my own.”

Chuckling darkly, he leans forth on the table. His nostrils are flared, his hands gripping the edges until his knuckles turn white. “And what exactly is that?”

“We agreed on having the First army general having a vote in the decision making process as you all do, and since I’m his proxy, I’ve decided you will no longer use humans as canon meat.”

Gliding the tip of his tongue over the inner side of his teeth, he stared at Y/N as if she were made of glass he had every intention on shattering. That would be a mistake – glass is only brittle until it breaks, the shards can cause more damage.

“We will train Grisha to protect humans and humans will use their weapons to protect the Grisha in a more effective manner with the emperor’s gold.”

“Gold?” Kirigan says through gritted teeth as she approaches him, her hands behind her back and he has no doubts she’s stashed a weapon in them and the blue kefta she wore. He’d tell her to take it off and never wear one since she’s but a human, yet as his wife, she was entitled to a kefta. Besides, she looked like a dream in one.

“The emperor agreed to fund the First army’s armory during breakfast”, she smirks, lifting her head up to maintain eye contact.

“Get out”, he grumbles.

Raising her eyebrow, she giggles, “Are you that incapable of admitting I may have opinions and capabilities with potential to do better than the ones you brought before the emperor?” Hardening her gaze, she cups his cheek so tenderly he felt a shiver run down his back. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“GET OUT!” He turns to the others, watching them scramble to leave before he unleashes the darkness everyone feared. Once the last one left, the door slamming behind them, Kirigan locked his eyes on hers.

“Don’t ever try to get inside my head”, he snarled, slamming her against the door. As his heartbeat echoed in his ears, they stayed there with his grip crushing her wrists, keeping them pinned to the wall.

She didn’t breathe, trying to guess his next move. There was a risk she’d push him over the edge and she quite liked herself in one piece, so she waited – waited for him to move first despite the aching pain in her wrists. Releasing a shuddered breath, her chest deflates.

Finally, his eyes soften as he realizes he might have scared her and while he’d usually triumph, he found no satisfaction in being rough with her. He imagined himself releasing her from his grip, cupping her cheeks and asking for forgiveness, but the way she refused to blink made him unsteady. Yet he whispered still, “It’s too dark for you.”

Squinting, Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line. She easily breaks out of his grasp, shoving him against the wall with her forearm on his chest. Trailing her hand lazily towards his neck, she tightens her grip, lightly choking him. Pulling him down, she stands on her tiptoes as well. Leaning in, her lips brush against his ear; whispering, "Darling, you may wield darkness but you don't know the meaning of dark."

Stepping away, she raised her chin defiantly and he wished he could grasp it and pull her lips to his until her jaw relented and her mouth opened for his. And that’s when he realized – why would he hold back?

Her eyes drifted up to his and she knew his resolve was gone. His lips captured hers in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. There was something gentle about it, regardless of the brute strength he used to push her into the door. She felt the door rattle against her back as he shifted, pressing her into it, taking her face between his hands.

When he kissed her, she felt as if she were losing his mind. She couldn’t comprehend why her hand wasn’t holding her dagger at his neck, or why she allowed herself to moan into the kiss as if he had brought her pleasure.

Every thought she once had evaporated as the darkness of lust drew her in, bending all her rules, stealing the last trembling bit of restraint. She tries to pull away, to stand firm and turn away his affection if she could call it that.

“No”, he whispers, bringing her lips back to his.

And when he kissed her again, she wasn’t sure she wanted her sanity back. She slid her hands under his kefta, wrapping arms around him to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise set every inch of her skin on fire.

Opening her eyes, they widen as she notes his are closed as he lost himself in their passionate exchange. A single intelligent thought formed inside her mind, sparking others to appear as well. Playing with fire is her favorite hobby, but this wasn’t a game – not when she was losing.

Pushing against him with all her might, Y/N gasped for breath as he stumbled back. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she narrowed her eyes at him. Lifting her chin, Y/N met his gaze decidedly. After all, she couldn’t avoid her marital duty if she allowed him to kiss her like that. He may not be an old, unattractive, undeveloped man she had imagined in her mind, but Y/N still wasn’t quite keen on giving herself to him. She had kept her maidenhood all those years only to lose it to a man who shall never be more to her than a husband in name only. She’d never love him…she promised herself that. She never broke a promise before and he would not be the one who changes that.

“Don’t touch me”, she spoke through clenched teeth.

He looked at her in surprise. There was hatred in her enchantingly cold eyes, her cheeks flushed red. If possible, her anger made her even more beautiful. Never had he felt such a raging desire.

His hand went around her neck, his thumb digging into the soft flesh. “You are my wife,” he said in a low voice. “You are mine!”

“I believe we have already covered that. I’m not yours and I never will be.” Y/N told him with such spite, such determination that he let her go immediately.

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?” Darkling’s voice softened, his eyes holding more understanding than she liked. Had he acted unreasonably and taken her against her will the night before or now, she’d at least be right about his horrid heart and vile mind…but he didn’t. Instead of being a savage she imaged him to be, he offered her gentle understanding.

“I’m sorry I was rough. I’ll try and be gentler. If you don’t want to go through with this, I won’t force you.” Running a hand across his face, he leaned back on the table. “I want you…really fucking bad, but I won’t take you against your will.” The Darkling sighed as she stared at him with her doe eyes, seeing confusion pass her features.

“Good to know where you draw your line. Murder – good, rape – bad.”

Rolling his eyes, he squinted as he looked at her again, “We can’t sacrifice Grisha for your men.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Y/N could hardly believe he just forgot the kiss they shared. In seconds, he crossed his arms and the lustful look was gone. The man before her was a general once more, and though he tried to hide it, he was still a man who had a hard-on despite the subject change. She wished she could ignore the evidence his blood is still boiling for a touch, more so because he was fucking right – he wasn’t small at all.

“If you keep wasting human lives, we will stop defending yours entirely.”

Raising an eyebrow, his face hardened, “We’ll kill you.”

Scoffing, she raises her eyebrow to mimic him. “It’s you or Volcra or the Druskelle and Fjerdans or Shu. We end up dying either way.” Stepping closer, she folded her hands behind her back. “We can work together and lessen our losses or you can do it your way and have a massacre instead.”

In less than a minute, her eyes turned from ice to flame and he found himself captivated by the change.

“I’ll agree on one condition.”

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. Was that expression fear? The possibility struck him as so humorous he nearly laughed out loud.

“State your terms”, she snapped, refusing to concede when she’s close enough to do something she’s wanted for years – to protect the soldiers used as a shield for those who are perfectly capable of protecting themselves.

“I plan on getting to know you better”, he leaned in closer. He raised his hand, cupping her cheek just as he imagined – tenderly, enough to show dominance but not quite capable of harming her. “If you let me.”

Heart fluttering inside her chest had made her doubt herself. She stared at him, stubborn and unrelenting. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Chuckling, Kirigan drops his hand, noticing her relax as he steps back. With a tightness in his chest, he looked back at his wife, so small, so alone and still so fierce. He would never admit it, but he had already a sliver of love for her and knowing she did not had hurt him.

His smile falls and he nods. Clearing his throat, “How about we go for a ride in a few days?” He took her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze, looking up at her weary eyes.

“Does that mean I have the bed all to myself?” Raising her eyebrows expectantly, she squeezed his hands right back, as bold as ever. Genya seemed to trust him, yet Y/N couldn’t understand why. He’s too charming to be trustworthy.

Using his grip on her hand as an advantage, he tugged her closer to him and she found herself between his legs as he remained, leaning against the table behind him. His eyes flicker to her lips, “Better find more pillows, my wife. We wouldn’t want you to be the big spoon again, would we?”

With that, he turned them so swiftly, she had barely blinked as he pulled her up on the table and she gasped in surprise. Heart beating fast, she nearly gripped his kefta and claimed his lips, but he leaned in on his own accord and she had no need for brutish behavior.

The tip of his nose brushes hers and just as she begins to lean in, he takes a step back. Winking, he takes another step back.

“If you want a taste, you’ll have to ask.”

Watching his retreating figure in shock, she remained perched on the table with her mouth open and her eyes wide.

Covering her mouth, Y/N shakes her head. Her mind was right, the heart cannot be trusted.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9​ @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x​ 

PART 4

[eastertag]

Role Model

@fallenfurther gift for @willow-salix 

—

Gordon was standing at the door of John’s room, peering in with a smirk on his face. Alarms bells went off in Alan’s head as he headed over to investigate. Peeking over his brother’s shoulder, his eyes fell on the subject of Gordon’s curiosity. Knelt on the floor, in a sea of beauty products, was their nephew with Selene’s hand mirror lying before him. The child was staring into it with a purple pencil gripped in his hand. He glanced up at them and waved happily.

“Alan!”

Alan’s mouth dropped.

“It gets better every time he looks up.”

Gordon grinned while fighting to suppress his laughter, which might distract their nephew from his work. The boy turned back to his reflection, before dropping the pencil and picking up three more. Selene was not going to be happy if she saw this mess.

“Should we do something?”

“You mean beside laugh?”

“Selene’s going to be mad.”

Gordon strode boldly into the room and slipped his phone from his pocket. Crouching, he lowered the phone to the child’s level. Their nephew, seeing the camera, leant back and posed. He had a big proud smile that Gordon eagerly captured from various angles. He flicked through them quickly to confirm they were in focus, knowing he would show them to his nephew when he was older, before tapping on the messenger app and pulling up his chat with Selene.

Gordon: You might want to check your room sometime soon.

“She’ll be mad, alright,” Gordon confirmed with a smile, “but not with us. Scott has a LOT of grovelling to do.”

Alan just stared as Gordon casually retreated, leaving their nephew to continue. Hurried footsteps sounded behind them caused Alan to turn. Worry plastered his eldest brother’s face and Alan felt sorry for the man.

“Have you seen-”

Gordon strode out of John’s room, interrupting Scott and throwing his thumb over his shoulder.

“He’s in there.”

Scott rushed into the room only to halt at the sight of his son. The fear that had filled him when he’d first noticed his son missing was replaced with complete shock.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Gordon jeered from the door, not wanting to miss a second.

Scott would have glared at Gordon if he was able to tear his eyes away from his son. Kneeling down by the dresser, which the boy had somehow managed to climb, he reached forward and gently turned the child’s head to get a better look.

“Daddy!”

“What have you done?”

“I like Selene.”

The innocence of the response made Scott close his eyes and take a breath. He adored his son but sometimes it was hard. The child was a mess. It appeared he’d tried to replicate Selene getting all glammed up for a date, only without any of the skill needed to do so. What Scott suspected was mascara had been brushed through his eyebrows and across half his forehead. Red lipstick, which currently lay crushed on the floor, was plastered around his mouth, with a red streak on his front tooth. To top it all off, there were thick blue and purple smudges on his cheeks with large purple whiskers cutting across his face under his eyes. Then there was the mess on the floor. The child had managed to get hold of Selene’s makeup bag and up end it. Half the stuff had been opened, from three lipsticks, one destroyed and two with small fingerprints on, multiple pencils were scattered about, their colourful leads probably shattered inside. Palettes of powders were scattered, the colours blended with nail scratches in them. Those same powders dusted the floor, along with various other colourful streaks, made by the grubby fumbling fingers. There were very few items that had survived unscathed from the toddler’s eager hands. Scott didn’t know where to start. There was no way he could hide this from Selene, but maybe he could at least salvage something and clean up the floor before she found out. A cough from the door made him turn. He swallowed. The witch was standing at the door between his two brothers, hands on her hips.

“I can explain.”

Her eyebrow rose. Scott stood, ready to try and salvage the situation with a dimpled smile and some pleading, when his bottom knocked the dresser. Even his speedy reflexes were no match against gravity. One of the perfume bottles toppled, having been knocked to the edge by his son, and shattered against the floor filling the room with its floral scent.

“Uh oh,” chimed his son as Scott put his head in his hands, his heart beating fast at the thought of creating not just a mess but a hazard for his boy. He sighed, turning his blue eyes on the witch.

“I’m so sorry, Selene.”

Eyes on the floor, Scott quickly used his shoe to drag all the pieces of glass towards him and out of reach of his son. Glancing at the dresser, he moved a second perfume bottle away from the edge before crouching down and collecting up the shards in his hand. Footsteps walked around them, before returning with a sigh. A small binbag was held open before him and Scott carefully dropped the glass in before taking it so he could drop the smaller pieces in as he went. The whole time he’d had half an eye on his boy, who had paused with the change of atmosphere in the room. The perfume pooled on the wooden floor had become a new target of interest and his hand went straight into it. With glass in his own hands, Scott was powerless to stop it. Arms scooped up the child. Scott turned to see Selene balancing the boy on her hip and taking in the child’s face.

“I like you Selene.”

A smile crossed Selene’s lips. “I like you too.”

“I think he means ‘I look like you’.”

John stepped into the room, having assessed the scene from the doorway. He ignored the glare his wife sent his way. Glancing down at his brother’s guilty face confirmed it really had been just an accident. Though the presence of his youngest two brothers, and the smirk on Gordon’s face, suggested they hadn’t done anything to stop, or help, the matter. John slipped into the en-suite and grabbed a fresh roll of toilet paper and the makeup wipes. He passed the wipes to Selene, who took them and fell back onto the bed with the child. Expertly slipping a wipe out one-handedly, she started attacking the boy’s hands to stop him spreading the mess further. Ripping the roll open, John spiralled a load around his hand, before tearing it off and dropping it onto the pool of perfume. As much as it would evaporate away, he’d rather help it along, the smell already filling the room. Scott wiped up the boards with the tissue, throwing the sodden lumps on top of the glass when finished.

With the floor dry and clear of glass, John watched his brother tie the bag and dump it in the bin. John made a mental note to discard it immediately. A grunt from the bed had John turn around. Selene was now wiping their nephew’s face, who was very upset about it. John’s heart softened at his pleading, even though the child was the cause of all this, it was hard to be mad at him. Instead, John turned to the toddler’s father. He made the most of the extra few inches he had on his brother with a downwards stare. He held out his hand to the man.

“Phone.”

Scott sighed, slipping his mobile out of his pocket and placing it in his brother’s palm. Right now, he had to do everything to avoid John freezing all his accounts in revenge. His mobile was passed to Selene.

“I believe you know the access code for this. Order everything you need. Replacements for all that has been damaged as well as anything that takes your fancy, Scott owes you.”

Scott scooped up his son as Selene tapped the screen and immediately got to work.

“Come on, mister. Let’s finish cleaning you up. Order more wipes and remover, Selene. I’m going to need plenty to get all this muck off.”

“Already done.”

The witch didn’t even glance up. Carrying his son into his brother’s bathroom, he perused the various bottles on the side. He selected a bottle that appeared promising before plonking his son on the toilet seat. Selene had gotten the worst off, though there were still some faint whiskers from where the liner had been applied extra thick. Popping the lid off the bottle, Scott squeezed the cream onto a cotton pad and rubbed it against his son’s face. Hands pushed against his arms as distressed cries of ‘no’ filled the small room, the child really not happy that his hard work was being erased. Rubbing the pad along the black lines of mascara, it thankfully began to fade. The pad became darker with each wipe, and Scott relaxed slightly as he carefully scrubbed his toddler’s skin. After a few minutes he sat back and surveyed his son. The child was pouting but appeared clean. Rummaging in a drawer, Scott retrieved a clean flannel and dampened it with soapy water. One last wash for good measure and Scott was satisfied. He rung out the cloth, stepped out the bathroom and lobbed it into the laundry basket. Scott ignored John’s eyeroll, though the scattered makeup had been picked up and floor cleaned in Scott’s absence. He was going to be John’s least favourite brother for a while. Turning back to his son, who was just as grumpy as his uncle, Scott wanted to start the day again. Retrieving his son, he hoped the strop would be short-lived.

“Okay sweetie. Next time you want to look like Aunt Selene, you have to come and ask me, okay?”

The toddler nodded, excitement sparkling in his blue eyes. He was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, clutching a bag containing the ruined makeup. Selene turned to her best friend, who was perched on the table before her.

“We shall start with nails. Scott, I want my toes painted purple.”

Stretching out her leg, she unceremoniously plonked her foot in his lap. Selene watched the commander of International Rescue route around in her box of polish for all the shades of purple, before presenting them to her. She pondered for a moment.

“The deep purple with glitter.”

Scott put the rest back before shaking up the selected bottle. The polish had been a gift from a friend. The deep indigo paint contained a conservative amount of glitter, so it appeared like stars on her nails. It reminded her of a night sky. After unscrewing the cap, he placed his fingers around her ankle and carefully started to brush along her nails. His face was a picture of concentration. Happy he was going to do his best, Selene turned to her nephew. She held up the small selection of child safe nail polish John had ordered the previous month, after seeing the boy’s interest in hers. Gods, her man was amazing. Her nephew’s eyes widened as he reached out to touch the colourful bottles. His eyes flicked back to his father.

“Which colour do you want on your toes?”

“Like Selene.”

“You want purple too?”

He nodded, his eyes smiling up into hers. Selene singled out the lilac one in her hands and presented it to the boy.

“How about this purple?”

The child paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. He could see it wasn’t the same one she was having applied. Flicking between the two colours, he finally agreed with a nod.

“Perfect. Now, I’m going to need you to hold very still now. Your toes are small.”

She grabbed his ankles and pulled his feet onto her lap, forcing him to lie back in the process. He giggled as his head landed in John’s lap. Slipping off his shoes and socks, Selene could hold his foot in one hand. His nails were tiny, but she was skilled. After a quick shake of the bottle, she offered her other foot to Scott, before getting to work on her nephew. With a steady hand, she gave each nail a coat of colour.

“Keep your feet still while they dry, and I’ll do a rainbow on your fingers.”

With the boy’s feet held in her lap, she made the most of the colours that came in the set. His thumbs were painted red, then his fingers were orange, yellow, green and finally blue. The only colour that hadn’t been used was pink.

“How about we paint your Daddy’s nails with this one?”

Her nephew turned to Scott, uncertain glee in his eyes. A nod from Scott had the child giving her a dimpled grin. The man had no choice and offered his hands out in sacrifice. A quick check of the child’s nails confirmed they were dry. Slipping her nephew onto her lap and cuddling him close, she offered him the bottle.

“How about we do it together?”

“Please don’t,” groaned Scott, “if I have to have pink nails, at least make sure they are neat.”

“You don’t have a say in this,” John stated, not even glancing up from his tablet. Scott’s death stare bounced straight off her man.

Selene passed the brush to her nephew and encased his hand in hers. She guided it towards his father’s thumb. Chuckles bubbled out the child as they stroked the pink polish over the nail. It wasn’t easy, Selene had to push against her nephew at times, but it was fun. The uneven edges and accidental coating of the skin around the nail made it all the better. Once finished, Scott scrutinised his fingertips while slipping off his shoes.

“You might as well do my feet too.”

A socked foot landed in their lap. Her nephew screwed up his face.

“Ew. Smelly.”

Selene threw her head back, laughing at the betrayal as John sniggered beside them.

“Traitor.”

Her nephew stuck his tongue out at his father as he yanked off the sock. Scott’s feet didn’t actually smell that bad, and it wasn’t long until he had a complete set of badly painted toes. Giving the child a squeeze, she shifted him round to face her.

“Ready to look like me?”

“Just what we need, a mini-Selene.”

Selene shot her husband a glare, only to be softened by the affection held in those stunning emerald eyes. Damn. Dragging her eyes back to her nephew, she unzipped the bag of damaged makeup and retrieved an eyeshadow palette. John had done a marvellous job of cleaning them up and salvaging what he could. Within the slim case was an array of purple shades, with black and silver to the side. There were large gouges in the silver and darkest purple where little nails had gotten in. Selecting a light purple, she started dolling up the boy. He fidgeted, eyes screwing up each time she brushed his eyelids, but she managed to give them a reasonably even coat. A second palette contained shades of red, which she used as a blush on his cheeks. There was no way she was going to be able to line his eyes, so used the black eyeliner pencil to shape his eyebrows instead. Finally, she retrieved the bright red lipstick that was now half the length it had been that morning. A few gentle strokes against his soft lips and he was complete.

“Perfect!”

Reaching over, Selene stole John’s tablet and brought up the camera app. Her nephew smiled; his dimples enhanced by his rosy cheeks. She snapped a few photos before passing it back.

“Same colour again on your hands?”

“If you please, Scott.”

Selene held out her hands as her nephew crawled off her and over to John, who scooped him up into his own lap. Fingers prodded the tablet and whatever John had been doing was put to the side, as sound of a game came from the device. The kiss John planted into his nephew’s hair as he watched what the child was doing proved he didn’t mind the disruption. Selene knew how much the child meant to John, as well as every other Tracy on the Island.

[thenamesseven]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

A/N: FINALLY! I’m so so sorry for making you all wait so much for an update. Truth was school is taking up most of my free time with homework and by the time I get some free time I’m too tired to do anything. I felt a bit desmotivated about writing but I think I’m back again! Thanks for being patience and I’ll try to update sooner, like I used to do before. Sorry again! Enjoy the chapter ^^

When Park Jinyoung called his employees into his office it was extremely obvious something was very very wrong. Being called by the boss to discuss private manners wasn’t something that brought good news, in fact, it was always related with somebody being fired or somebody getting yelled at for doing something wrong.

Unfortunately, even when they thought they would never go through something like that, the day when Jackson and Jaebum were called by their boss came and none of them knew what could possibly be wrong. Since they had spent the whole afternoon trying to come up with a plan to find you and bring you back home with them, none of them had checked out their social media and realize what was truly going on.

Sitting on some stiff yet pretty uncomfortable chairs, the both of them waited patiently until Park Jinyoung spoke, he only looked at them quietly, trying to think of a way to explain the big problem without getting insanely mad at them.

“What’s this”

Jackson and Jaebum jolted slightly scared when the stack of paper JYP had been holding, landed on the desk situated in front of them pretty hard, hard enough to send some sheets away before one of the boys could read whatever was written on them. By the way they looked some of them seemed to be magazine articles, the ones online pages post and the others were things posted in social media, specially Twitter and Tumblr. None of them dared to reach out and take one of the papers to read them though, whatever was going on was bad enough to have Park Jinyoung fuming in front of them when they were more or less, the favorite group of the company.

But by the looks of it, they have fucked up big time.

Since none of the guys seemed eager to reply to the easy question, JYP sighed, attempting to get some answers once again “I’m going to ask again and this time I expect a reasonable answer” He looked at both of them, leaning back against his chair while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Jackson and Jaebum knew him well enough to know that whatever the problem was, it was stressing him out a lot and that it would only made the issue even worse. “What’s the meaning of this?”

It was Jaebum the one that caught the sheet of paper Park Jinyoung tossed away. With insecure hands, he cleared out his throat and held it far enough for Jackson to read it with him. His eyes scanned the paper nervously, not really focusing on the paragraphs below but on the colorful details that could instantly give him some clues about what was truly happening. The first thing he noticed was the name of one of those gossiping magazines that are always following idols around, they had people hidden with cameras everywhere, ready to snap the perfect picture and manage to ruin their lives and careers by revealing rumours or secrets that shouldn’t have been revealed. 

His stomach started turning into tiny notes that made him feel incredibly horrible. Jackson and him were hiding an incredibly big secret after all and it definitely wouldn’t be good if it had been leaked out of nowhere, without them having enough time to prepare for it. It really wasn’t a good time for that kind of drama, specially right after you were kind of missing.

Jackson, who was already fearing the text underneath the name of the magazine, had only managed to read the first sentence before his heart started beating so hard and loudly that he could feel his brain pulsing in synch with it.

The article said:

An anonymous message that has been recently received finally gave some meaning to the pictures we posted earlier! Jackson Wang, mostly known for being a successful rapper and part of the boy band GOT7, was spotted exiting his apartment earlier in an agitated way. The reporter that was there clearly saw how he was crying but also shaking with frustration, impotence for some unknown reasons that now are not so unknown.

Thanks to our anonymous reader we know that apparently Jackson and Jaebum are sharing that same apartment with an old friend who surprisingly is a female. Her name is (Y/N Y/LN) and luckily, our best researcher managed to find her instagram. We won’t post the username here but down there you can see a picture, kind of pretty isn’t she? Who wouldn’t want to date her?

Now get ready my dear ahgases because apparently and trusting the information this anonymous reader passed us, Jackson and Jaebum are in an open relationship with this female. Yeah! The three of them are dating, living together and doing all the heated things you all describe in your fanfics behind doors. 

Jackson was seen crying after-

Jaebum crumpled the paper in his hands, making it a small ball before tossing it away. Jackson kept his eyes down on the floor one of his knees had started bouncing nervously, as a reflex of his body to get rid of some stress, shaking his head dissapointed while his fingers fidgeted with the hem of the shirt he was wearing. Honestly, he wasn’t thinking about the consequences this scandal could have for Jaebum and him, Jackson couldn’t help but think about how stressed you were probably feeling after your face, name and some other intimate things had been exposed to the public so suddenly and without any consent.

“What the fuck is this bullshit?” Jaebum suddenly spoke out, frowning as he looked at JYP straight in his eyes. Jackson, who hadn’t been expecting that reaction, turned his head towards his direction slightly surprised.

“J-Jaebum” Jackson slightly worried his language would only make things worse, attempted to warn him, to shut him up but that didn’t stop his boyfriend

“You better start explaining and pray…Fucking pray that there is an explanation that won’t led to the two of you being fired and kicked out from GOT7” Their boss sat back down onto his chair, breathing heavily as he stared at both males waiting for one of them to start explaining.

“Do you really think I’m dating him?” Jaebum pointed at Jackson with his thumb,the latter only raised one of his eyebrows to glance at him. If Jaebum wanted to die and try to save all of their asses, he better start playing his game too.

“Dude, am I that ugly?” Jackson scoffed leaning back against his chair, rolling his eyes

“This is not something that we should laugh about. This freaking article is appearing in every social media, even in some news channels” The two boys quietly gulped at that, you had seen it for sure then and they didn’t even want to think how their families were probably feeling about this scandal.

“I’m sorry but I really do not understand why the company hasn’t deny this rumour yet” Jackson told him, erasing the small smile from his lips to look as serious as he could “Not only are they damaging our image but they’re also putting in danger somebody who we consider our little sister and not a fuck toy that we could share”

Jaebum nodded to Jackson’s words, poker face on as he stared at his boss. He looked really serious and slightly angry on the outside but inside? He was about to cry and start panicking, Jaebum had never been so scared before “(Y/N) has been our friend for years, she’s been living with us for so long too…Don’t you think that if we really had a relationship with her it would have been leaked by now?”

“With the amount of people that knows us? Probably” Jackson added as if the question had been directed to him “Sir, we never lied to you, we never cause any major problems like this one. Why would we do something like this? Ruin our careers, our success for a girl? No thanks”

“Exactly” The words hurt Jackson, he knew you didn’t deserve to be spoken about like that but if it worked, it would probably safe their careers and your reputation, if that was still possible.

“Then why the hell were you crying Jackson? What the hell happened?” He asked, still not completely believing the words that were coming out of their mouths.

“We had a really strong argument in which we said some pretty nasty things to each other” Jackson explained, he wasn’t really lying, things have been rough for the three of them. The male was just omitting some details that would definitely get them in trouble “It got to the point where she left, only leaving a note behind saying goodbye”

The room stayed in silent, Jackson’s broken tone echoing through the room as silence took over it. Park Jinyoung sighed, leaning back against the chair once again as he stared to the ceiling, attempting to go through the entire situation in his mind. He didn’t believe the guys completely but he didn’t have the clues to accuse them of lying either.

If the rumour stayed going through people’s social media the situation would only kept getting worse and worse and it would simply be impossible to deny the news at some point, ruining the reputation of some of the best idols the company had along with the one of an innocent girl.

Sighing, Park Jinyoung, CEO of JYP Entertainment, stood up and looked down at both of them “Get out of here, let me try and sort this out” 

-○-

Not too far away from that room, Jinyoung sat by himself in the lobby where they usually hang out during their little breaks in their practice sessions. Mark, Youngjae, Yugyeom and Bambam were there too, having some coffee as they talked about Jackson and Jaebum. Since they whole group knew about their relationship, the guys couldn’t help but be slightly worried about them what honestly surprised Jinyoung. Weren’t they worried about their own future? He didn’t mean to be rude but had they stopped to think what would happen to them if the group disappeared? Honestly, Jinyoung hasn’t fought so much for his dream to be ruined like this. You could say that was the reason he hasn’t said anything about yet, or maybe it was because he knew exactly what was going since he had been the one who sent those pictures to the online magazine. 

Leaning back against his chair, with his legs crossed, he kept messing around with his phone, checking out some social media to pass the time when he stumbled onto a couple of tweets that caught his attention. At first, Jinyoung just wanted to read them because of the drama but then when he realized what the issue was, his blood turned cold and his heart stopped beating for a second. 

“We all want that bitch out of our lives, why would she try to get involved with our two oppas?”

“Sluts are meant to be ashamed, you can’t let them do whatever they want”

Those were the beginnings of a trail that was full of original threats and insults that you wouldn’t even know existed. Jinyoung knew immediately who they were talking about, after all this was the effect he had expected after the anonymous message he sent to that online magazine started spreading through the internet. Messages like this will be the ones to make Jackson and Jaebum realize how much their fame could hurt you if anything of your relationship went wrong.

What he didn’t expect was the replies underneath where some people were planning to go and look for you, something that was totally crazy and unthinkable for Jinyoung. Were there fans who would go to that extent for two guys that would never know they existed? Even though something in him knew his plan was going the wrong way and that the backlash you were getting was way worse than he had expected, Jinyoung kept reading, eyes widening when he read the things they were planning to do to you if they find you.

Stumbling, the male stood up abruptly almost spilling his hot coffee all over the table. The guys looked at him, noticing how scared and tense their friend was but still none of them asked any questions and just waited for him to explain what was going on. However Jinyoung knew you didn’t have much time and that explaining everything would only make his chances of finding you smaller. 

“Where are you going?” Yugyeom finally asked, too curious to hold the question back.

Jinyoung only glanced at his direction, face as pale as a ghost, he grabbed his hoodie from the chair and shook his hair, quietly telling them he didn’t have the time for explanations. “It’s (Y/N)” He simply said, pushing his phone out of his pockets to dial your number “Tell Jackson or Jaebum to call me as soon as they get out”

After saying that Jinyoung simply exited the break room, phone glued to his ear as he desperately prayed that you would answer the phone.

Nobody picked it up though and he could just hope that it wasn’t too late for you.

-○-

You didn’t know how much time had passed since you were dragged back into the alley by this unknown girls, all you knew was the pain in your body indicated something was probably broken after all the kicks and punches they threw. You were confused to say the least, since they seemed to know about your relationship with Jackson and Jaebum but none of the guys had called you to warn you about the situation, honestly, you would have never thought that if the fans ever found out about your relationship some of them would react the way these girls did.

They had walked after getting tired, only saying that a bitch like you would learn her lesson after the pain they inflicted on you. Your eyes were dry, there were no tears left to cry at this point and your throat was sore after all the begging you did. Your eyes were staring to get swollen, your vision was becoming incredibly blurred and unfortunately, your body was too weak to move an inch.

You would have called the police or even an ambulance if your phone hadn’t been stepped on and broken in your face, you could simply lay there on the floor praying to whatever God was up there that somebody would find you.

It was scary yet crazy the things some fans could do for their idols. You didn’t blame your guys though, this wasn’t their fault even though it was their fans were the ones that did it. In fact, you found yourself wishing to be with them, receiving all the love and affection they always gave you when you weren’t feeling well….If only you hadn’t ran away.

“(Y/N)!?” 

You tried opening your eyes more, move your head towards the direction of the voice in order to see if you had hit your head so bad that you were now starting to have delusions, it was impossible Jinyoung was in the same alley as you, the guys were probably preparing for their new comeback.

“(Y/N)!?” When his voice sounded closer, you unconsciously frowned. What was he doing here? How did he find you? “Oh my God, what did they do to you?”

Looking down at you made Jinyoung feel like the worst person alive, you were drifting in and out of consciousness probably too weak to open your eyes and look at him. With shaky hands, he kneeled down besides you and rested your bleeding head on his knees not even caring about staining his new sweatpants. You groaned in pain, complaining about the movements as he gently brushed some of your hair out of your forehead, looking around, not really knowing what to do.

He never planned this to happen, the only thing he had wanted to do was scare Jackson and Jaebum to death, separate you from them so when the secret came out you would be far enough to not get hurt like this. You didn’t deserve this, what happened to you was extremely unfair and totally his fault.

“I’m going to get you some help” Jinyoung whispered, trying to dialed an ambulance but his hands were shaking too much and his eyes were full of tears “We’re going to the hospital”

“Where are they?” Jinyoung didn’t need to ask to know who you were asking for, it was normal that in this kind of situation you would want to see Jackson and Jaebum.

“They are okay, JYP needed to talk with them” Jinyoung replied, managing to call an ambulance “You’ll be okay (Y/N), just don’t fall asleep on me alright? You need to stay awake”

Using the last bit of strength you had, you nodded to his words, keeping your blurry vision on his face as he asked for an ambulance to come as fast as they could but tiredness was calling for you, the pain was overwhelming and deep down you knew that as soon as you closed your eyes everything would be gone. Who knows? Maybe all of this was part of a twisted nightmare, those that were too real for your own good. 

“Please come as fast as you can, she’s losing consciousness again” Jinyoung pleaded, gently slapping your cheek with his hand to keep you awake.

“(Y/N)?”

You weren’t opening your eyes anymore, you weren’t even moving your head to him when he spoke.

“(Y/N)!? Oh god, (Y/N)?” He asked again

But nobody answered this time.

[thecleverdame]

Control and Release - 20

Series Masterlist

TEDTalk!Sam x Reader

Summary: With the rest of the staff caught in a snowstorm, you find yourself acting as a personal assistant to the notorious Sam Winchester.

Warnings: Dom/Sub, humiliation, embarrassment, sexual objectification, mutual masturbation, spanking, cum play, fingering, anal play, orgasm control, nipple clamps, dub-con, breath play.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

Words: 4k

Parts 21, 22, 23 & 24 are currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories, including the ABO series Gods of Twilight and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

“Holy shit,” you mutter, staring at your black and blue ass in the mirror. These marks aren’t faint or small. Your backside is covered with thick, deep blue welts from his belt. You woke up on your stomach, only to wince in pain once you rolled over. Then you sat up and nearly yelped at the ache. But now as you stand naked in the bathroom you can’t help but smile, twisting around to get a better look. While you’re going to have a hard time sitting down, it’s a thrilling reminder of last night. A reminder of something new and this connection that’s growing between you and Sam.

Your phone rings and you glance at the number, sighing before answering.

“Hey, mom-”

“Don’t you ‘hey mom’ me. You said you’d call me back and I haven’t heard a peep in forty-eight hours. I’ve been calling and calling.”

“The FBI took my phone. This one came by courier this morning, honestly, I just turned it on like ten minutes ago.”

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Of course not,” you roll your eyes, glancing at your butt one last time. “A lot’s happened in the last twenty-four hours.”

“Do you want to come home? You can move home with your dad and I. We haven't touched your room.”

“I’m not moving back to Albuquerque. I’m okay, really.”

“And what? You’re headed to Chicago all by your lonesome after what happened? That’s not a good idea.”  

“No, I’m staying here in Boston. Things have changed.”

“I’ll come there, then. I was looking at flights this morning. Your father and I can be there by this afternoon.”

“Mom, seriously, I’m fine,” you suppress the urge to get riled up. She loves you, but sometimes it’s too much. Slipping into the closet you find your tiny section of clothes amid Sam’s vast wardrobe.  

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you’re not fine,” she fires back. “Who would be alright after something like that? I’m coming there to take care of you.”

“No, mom, just stop and listen to me. I’m a little shook but honestly, I’m doing good. I’m seeing a therapist. I’m going to be late for my appointment if I don’t hurry up and get dressed.”  

“No one should have to go through this alone, sweetheart.”

“I told you, I’m not alone.” You stop to look at the empty bed, Sam was up and out the door before the sun came up. “I’ve got people here. Just please, stop worrying about me so much. I’ll call every day, I promise.”

“I don’t like this. You said you were moving because there was nothing left for you in that God awful city and now you’re staying?”

“Things just...changed. I’ve got positive things here, but it’s hard to talk about it. I feel like shit for talking about anything good that’s in my life when people were just killed. I need time to process everything.”

“Who’s going to make sure you eat? Your appetite is always the first thing to go when you’re stressed. Are you in a hotel? Where are you staying?”

“I’m with a friend until I get my living situation figured out.”

“Thank God, hotels are so impersonal. With those tiny soaps and the coffee is never good. You need a home.”

“Look, I have to go. I’m going to call you later, okay?”

“Alright, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

As you hang up you walk to the small dresser at the back of the closet and open the top drawer. The two photos that used to be on display are now tucked out of sight You take out the one of him in college. He’s so happy and in love, it’s hard to imagine your Sam is this same person.

If nothing else it’s a reminder of the fact that people are capable of great change.

-

Walking down the hallways of the hospital you glance down at the paper in your hand with a room number written on it. Pausing at room 7059 you confirm the name scribbled on the dry erase board and knock.

“Come in,” calls out a male voice.

“Hi.” You shuffle inside, leaning around the curtains pulled in a half-circle around his bed. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.”

“You’re the last face I expected to see,” Tim laughs and then coughs, grimacing in pain. “But you’re not bothering me. I’m bored out of my mind.”

“Are you sure? I can come back later…” you’re already backing out of the room as he leans forward, wincing in pain.

“Please, just sit down. I’d like the company.”

You step around his bed, sitting in the plastic chair pulled up beside it. Your eyes flutter closed as your ass throbs.

“Oh, I brought you something,” you remember, reaching into your bag and pulling out a copy of The Reckoning by John Grisham. “It was this or Danielle Steel. The gift shop didn’t have a lot of options. I don’t even know if you like to read.” It’s at that moment you spot a Kindle lying beside him on the bed. “Or if you already have an e-reader with access to any book you want.”

“This thing is my mom’s, it’s full of Agatha Christie novels and I don’t have her password to buy anything else.” He holds up the Kindle. “I do like to read and I prefer books. Thank you for bringing me something other than flowers.”

He gestures around the room.

“Wow,” you look at the dozen or so bouquets and potted plants. “I guess people go with what they know.”

“I guess,” he nods, smiling at you. “I’m glad you’re alright,”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re alright too.” You shift in the chair. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t think I would be alive if it weren’t for you.”

“Eh,” he grumbles, looking away. “I’m not the hero in this story. Winchester is the one who took him out.”

“True, but you distracted him. People were running and you stepped forward, put your arms out in front of us.”

“That was nothing. Just instincts.”

You shrug. “Instincts that bought the rest of us a few seconds. Sam got there just in time, but if you hadn’t tried to help us, I don’t think it would have ended the same way for me. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He nods, clearing his throat. “I heard Callie, the redhead who did the corporate travel arrangements...she died this morning in surgery.”

“Yeah,” you confirm, feeling the sadness swell into your throat. “Max died last night. They thought he might make it, but he didn’t.”

The death toll kept rising. It turns out Brent used a particularly nasty bullet designed to do the maximum amount of damage.  A lot of the people who survived the initial attack are struggling with serious complications.

“Shit.” Tim sits back against the pillow. You’re both silent as the murmur of the TV rambles in the background. “I’m starting to think I must be lucky. This is actually the third time I’ve taken a bullet. I’m three for three.”

“I heard that. You never know what’s rumor and what’s not but people said that’s why you left the service.”

“That was the second time. But the better story is the first time. I was just a kid. My brother accidentally shot me with my dad’s .22. He was grounded for a year and I got all the chocolate ice cream I could eat. Hell, I still do. My mom brought me some this morning.”

“Maybe you are lucky,” you laugh, checking your cell phone.  

Two messages are scrawled across the screen.

Sam: Meet me for lunch.

Sam: Parish Cafe at 1:30

“Someone important?” Tim grins.

“Important and demanding,” you chuckle, responding see you there and put the phone away. “Look I know I don’t know you and I don’t want to make this weird, but if you’re feeling up to it do you think we could get together next week?”

His eyebrows shoot up and you backtrack, shaking your head in embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean...I...God, I’m bad at this. I’m seeing a therapist, and yesterday she suggested that I reach out and try to connect with some of the people who were there when it happened. I was kinda hoping Millie would join us, maybe Lexi - God bless her.”

Tim laughs out loud at that, nodding in agreement.

“Sure, I didn’t have much of a social life before all this and I’m guessing I’ll be a captive audience for some time.”  

“Awesome.”

“I thought you were moving? Seems like this would be the perfect opportunity to get the fuck out of dodge.”

You stare at him, a million thoughts merging all at once.

“Things changed.”

“Important and demanding things?” he questions and you can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks.

“Yes,” you whisper, getting up. “So, I guess I’ll see you next week then.”

“Just let me know.” He gives you a little salute.

-

Sam’s seated in the back of the dark little restaurant, reading on his iPad when you join him.

“Sorry I’m late,” you slip into the chair across from him, biting your lip as the sting of the bruises take your breath away. “I don’t think my Uber driver has lived here very long.”

“I could have sent a car for you.” He finishes what he’s reading before looking up. A flicker moves from his eyes to his mouth, just a ghost of a smile. “I like that dress.”

You look down at the black and white gingham summer dress you bought yesterday. “Thanks, it’s new.”

“I don’t normally see you this casual.”

“I guess that’s true,” you grin at him. He looks handsome today. Sam always looks good, but there’s something about when he doesn’t wear a tie and lets the top buttons of his shirt lay open that you just love. “You like it huh?”

“Very much,” he confirms. He carefully places his tablet and his phone screen down on the table. It’s something new he’s started doing when he intends on giving you his full attention.

“So,” you take the cloth napkin, folding it over your lap. “This was unexpected. I thought you’d be too busy.”

“Not for you,” he responds succinctly and you feel your heart speed up.

This is Sam trying.

“You keep saying things like that and we might need to get a room after lunch,” you laugh, then realize how much easier this feels, more natural than before. You worried it would be hard to relax around him, but that’s not the case.

“That could be an interesting prospect,” he trails his finger around the edge of his water glass, lost somewhere between amusement and arousal. “Not today, but another time.”

“I’ll look forward to it then. You know, I haven’t officially asked yet, can I have my job back?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, “In fact, I’m thinking of placing you as a sort of mentor to a new guy I have coming in.”

“A mentor? I’m barely a secretary.”

“I meant more of a mentor for navigating the people, the office politics. What happened with Brent can’t happen again. I need someone down in the trenches watching the junior associates. After what happened with you and Max, and now Brent it’s clear it’s the wild west and I intend to reign it in. I should have seen it before.”

“What exactly happened...with Brent?”

“It’s not clear yet. I think Brent took the fall for a couple of other guys, they set him up to be a scapegoat. I suspected it at the time but I also have to walk a fine line. I can’t accuse senior staff of lying unless I have something to back it up. It undermines their authority. I’m bringing in several people from the outside for oversight, we need a fresh start.”

“What are you going to do about the building?”

“Have it demolished. I can’t expect anyone to work there. I was focused on expanding the campus, but now that’s futile. There are two buildings downtown, big enough for everyone but I have to ensure it’s the right fit. I’m headed there this afternoon if you’d like to join me.”

“I’d like that,” you watch him pick up the menu.

You could get used to this.

Two Weeks Later

“You found a place?” Sam inquires, looking through the stack of mail.

“Yup, it’s a loft. It’s small but there are tall ceilings so it doesn’t feel claustrophobic. Lots of windows. It’s exactly what I need right now.” You grin, plopping down on his couch. “They said I can move in next Monday.”

“Are you ready for that?” he inquires nonchalantly, skimming over a letter. “You said your therapist suggested you shouldn’t be alone, not for a while.”

“I’m not gonna be alone. We start working at the office on Wednesday, I always spend weekends with you and I’m hoping maybe I could see you during the week sometimes...it’s been nice spending time together, you know, other than sex.”

You watch him absorb this confession, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he sets the remaining mail aside and looks at you.

“It’s been different than I thought. I haven’t shared personal space like this in a very long time. I assumed I would feel suffocated, but I haven’t. You’re easy to be around.” He delivers this information deadpan and your entire face goes hot. “It’s been nice.”

“Maybe you could come to my place sometime? I can try to cook something, and I’ll probably have a futon by then. Maybe even a loveseat if my boss gives me a raise with this fancy new position. You can see how the other half lives.”

“That sounds...terrible,” he grins, watching you carefully.

“Yeah, it does,” you laugh out loud, genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. “But I am getting a new bed, I ordered it this morning. We could break it in…”

“You let me know once the futon arrives and I’ll drop by.” He gives in, checking his watch. “There is one thing we need to talk about.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous,” you chatter, giving him your full attention.

“You asked me to void our contract. I had it taken care of this morning.” He gives a curt little nod.

“I wanted to talk about that...about us and how this works now. I’d still prefer if our relationship remained private. For the time being at least.” You’ve been thinking about it more and more over the last few days.

“I understand,” Sam agrees easily.

“It’s just, people will assume a lot of things. And they’re nosey. I like this being just ours.”

“You don’t have to explain, I understand. My life entails more than you realize. No one pays attention to me because I don’t date actresses or get DUIs, but once you’re in the mix, eventually someone will take an interest.”

“We’re not very scandalous,” you snort, “Well, I guess kind of, but not in a ‘Page Six’ way.”

“True.” Sam looks relaxed, more at ease than you’ve seen him since this thing between you started. “You’re always welcome here,” he adds, before shifting his attention back to his work.

-

“You start work tomorrow?” Carol, your psychiatrist, is always examining you. But that’s why you come here, to be an open book. You’ve always been open to the idea of therapy and after everything that’s happened this can’t hurt.

“Yeah, going in on a Wednesday. We’re starting back up with a three day week.” It’s been a month since the shooting and life has inevitably moved despite the many changes. “I’m kinda nervous. I keep having this thought that I shouldn’t feel so normal. Like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and have some kind of a breakdown or something.”

“Are you still experiencing triggers?”

“Yeah,” you admit. This is the most frustrating part for you. Ninety-nine percent of the time you’re fine but out of the blue you find yourself spiraling down this dark hole. The panic attacks hit you out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly. It’s normal, that’s what everyone keeps telling you, but the unpredictability of it is infuriating. “I went three days with nothing and then last night we were eating dinner and bam. I almost passed out. Five minutes later I was fine.”

“Was there anything that stood out about that moment? A loud noise? Someone yelling?”

“No,” you shrug. “I was in the kitchen. I don’t even turn the TV on anymore. I never noticed before how many guns there are. Someone’s always shooting or talking about it. The first couple of times it happened I thought that was it. CNN was on the background, maybe I heard something I didn’t realize. But I’ve officially marked that off as a possibility. The trigger must be something else.”

“Well, just keep an eye on it. Next time it happens try to make a note of the details. Write it down right away, or take a video with your cell phone. We’ll figure it out. And if it gets bad, you call me and we can talk about medication again.”

“Honestly, I feel fine most of the time. I was thinking this morning I must be a psychopath. You know I didn’t even cry at Max’s funeral?”

“We’ve talked about survivor's guilt. Everyone’s experience is different. That’s just one facet of it. Take things slow and if you start to experience any emotional discomfort, take a step back.” She suggests, supportive as ever.

“I will. I’m ready to just dive in. I’ve got this new position and a new apartment.” You smile, thinking about all the emerging possibilities.

“New relationship,” she adds, as if you’ve purposely avoided mentioning it. And maybe you have. It’s not that she doesn’t approve, but she’s cautious.

“I know you don’t think it’s a good idea, but we’re actually in a good place.”

“I never said that I thought it was a bad idea. I simply pointed out that you hold things back when it comes to him. You stop yourself from spilling too many details. Sometimes that can be a warning sign. And your work situation is less than ideal. You said he’s your boss?”

“More like...my boss’s boss’s boss. He’s at the top of the food chain.”

“Well, it’s probably better he’s that far removed.” She makes a note on her pad. “And your sex life remains one hundred percent consensual?”

“Yeah, God, you make it sound like there’s something wrong with it.”

“Again, that’s you projecting what you assume my opinions are. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask. You’re certainly not the first woman in the world who enjoyed being tied up. There’s nothing wrong with it as long as it’s not having a negative impact on your self-worth or emotional health.”

“No, things are really good, all around. It sounds so fucked up to say that, but I feel like my life has a future. Is that weird? It’s not that I was sad or depressed before, but I was treading water. Now I’m going somewhere.”

“Sometimes terrible things bring necessary change. You didn’t know how to move forward here, and now you do.”

-

The new offices are two high rise buildings connected by a walkway. It’s just temporary until Sam decides on where to build the new campus but for the next couple years, this is the home of W & S.

Glancing at the post-it in your hand you look again at the number in front of you.

Workspace 2852

The office team had decided everything is now labeled as a workspace. There are no more offices and cubicles. Only workspaces - that look exactly like traditional offices and cubicles. You trail down the aisle, cubicles flanking the left and offices against the right-hand wall. Coming to the end of the cubicles you check the paper again. You must have missed it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Gloria from the travel team asks.

“I can’t find my desk. Maybe I’m on the wrong floor,” you explain.

She takes the paper from you, looking at the number and pointing to a small office tucked into the corner. “2852, right there.”

“No way,” you grin, getting closer only to find your last name scrawled across a piece of masking tape in the center of the door.

“Sorry about the tape. The nameplates are coming, that’ll have to do for now.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re beaming like an idiot, opening the door and stepping inside. It’s small, but the ceilings are vaulted and it’s literally in the corner of the building. Two walls are floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city below. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, scarcely able to believe this is your little corner of the world.

The office is naked, just a desk, computer and filing cabinet. But it’s yours.

There’s a single, white envelope on the desk and you have a feeling who’s left it for you. Inside is a note written on the back of a business card.

Enjoy. You deserve it.

“Sam,” you whisper, clutching the little card like it’s a bouquet of flowers. Turning the card over you’re met with another shock. The card is yours. Your name with the title of Department Liaison underneath.

“Sorry to bother you.” A new voice and two knocks come from behind you. You turn to find an unassuming man standing in the doorway.  “I know you're probably busy. I just wanted to drop in and introduce myself. I’m Cole Trenton.”

Cole Trenton, your new boss.

“Hi,” you beam back. He looks...nice. There’s a big smile plastered across his face as he extends his hand. His handshake is firm but not too hard, some men feel the need to crush you to prove a point but not him. “Y/N. I just got here. I’m not normally late but I couldn’t find my des- office.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waves his hand dismissing any concern. Shoving both hands in his pockets he wanders inside, looking at your view. Whistling, he looks back at you. “Someone must like you. I’m right next door, mine is bigger, but nothing like this.”

“To be honest I thought I’d be stuck out there in cubicle land.”

“Not anymore.” He taps your desk with the back of his knuckles. “I’m not sure what your schedule looks like today, but I was hoping we could sit down and I could pick your brain. You’re my eyes and ears right?”

“Absolutely,” you affirm. “Welcome, by the way. We’ve needed someone like you for a long time.”

“I’m lucky to be here. Working for Sam Winchester was pipe dream up until two weeks ago. I just don’t wanna screw this up. I’ve heard he’s a bastard but he can make or break you.”

“He’s not so bad,” you feel the business card burning a hole in your hand. “He just has high expectations.”

“I’m alright with that,” he chuckles lifting his hands palms forward in a sign of submission. “Let me know once you’re settled in. Whadda you say we order a pizza and go over employee files. It’ll be the first act of official business in your new workspace.”

“That sounds great. It looks like you’ll have to bring your own chair.” You’re on cloud nine. You’ve got a boss that doesn’t hate you with his very marrow. “It’s nice to meet you, Cole.”

“You too.” He pats the door frame on the way out, leaving you truly immersed in this new beginning.