#and for a remarkably well adjusted rook to take a look at his life and go 'dude.' and start an argument

[mohntilyet]

genuinely thought that i was going to get to make lucanis face the truth of what the crows are and do in vg, as well as his relative power as the grandson of the first talon and position in the crow-hierarchy blinding him to the worst of it . i did not get it. for now i will settle for drawing things like this

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Diary of the Writing Raven; Birds of a Feather

For the 1100+ follower milestone, here is the next part of the cursed raven’s story!

This time, we revisit entries in Miss Raven’s diary. A familiar face assumes prominence on the stage--what role will he play in this story of ours?

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4

Day 47

I feel like I am being watched.

Uncle says I am just nervous and excited from the ceremony yesterday.

I am not so sure.

Day 48

I ran into that weirdo again today.

The weirdo is named Rook Hunt. He also calls himself the Hunter of Love...? I do not understand what that means.

He said that he will not be fooled again by Mon-sure Mastermind’s tricks again. He said he knows I am a bird, and he will chase me to the ends of Twisted Wonderland to see me in flight.

...Scary.

He shouts many strange words and chases me around. I managed to narrowly miss him by diving into the bushes. He was distracted by some students with animal ears--and I was able to run all the way home safely.

I suppose it is good to be curious, but...Mister Rook is too curious...!!

Why couldn’t I have run into Mister Jade instead?

Day 51

Uwaaah, I saw a very pretty upperclassman today! He had golden hair, violet at the ends.

The pretty upperclassman snapped at Mister Rook and told him to stop scaring me.

I am thankful, but...it seems like that upperclassman was scanning me all over. Judging me silently. I wanted to disappear into my clothes.

Before we part, he tells me that my ponytails are not symmetrical. He adjusts it for me and sends me off.

Mister Rook’s friends are strange people, too.

Day 56

Another run-in with Mister Rook. They seem to happen every day now, though they are not always...eventful.

He says I am too formal, and that I can just call him “Rook”.

He would not stop pestering me until I agreed.

He gave me a toothy grin when I, at last, relented.

What a troublesome man.

Day 57

Ever since I tried Flounder’s Blue, I have been sampling new foods and drinks.

Today, I got a cup of caw-fee.

Silly me, though...I tripped and spilled it all over a Savanaclaw student. He was so angry. He threatened to gobble me up.

I was trembling and sobbing when the Savanaclaw student yelped. Rook had a tight grip on his trail and kept tugging it, saying weird things until he scurried off.

I thank him.

Day 60

It feels like I see Rook around every corner. He does not always approach--sometimes, he is just content with watching from a distance, or he gives a small wave.

Jade has noticed too.

He asks if Rook makes me feel unsafe..

Rather than feel unsafe, I am a little curious as to why Rook is...well, Rook. He is certainly an odd fellow, but when I think back to a few days ago, I can’t help but think he has a good heart.

I do not think he means any harm.

So I tell Jade I am fine.

Day 66

Rook smelled funny today.

He says there was an accident in the Science Club, so he will reek of tomato and basil for a few days. That hunting trip he was planning is cancelled; the smell will alert too many animals of his presence.

I tell him that he reminds me of the pasta served at the Mostro Lounge, and he laughs.

How he is able to stay so cheery is a wonder to me--but it is not a bad thing, I suppose.

Day 72

Rook tells me of a carny-vale in the nearby town, and says I must experience it for myself. I was curious, so I followed.

There are so many bright sounds and sights. It smells like something fried and sweet.

We ride the spinning tea cups and the carousel. They make me feel like I’m flying once more.

I’m no good at any of the game booths, but Rook is. He has impeccable aim and strength. The game booth runners cry and beg him to not run them out of business.

Rook just smiles and asks them for their best prizes. He has no use for most of them, so he dumps his prizes onto me with a part on the head.

My arms are too full to hold any food, so Rook helps feed me. He stuffs funnel cake, cotton candy, and candied apple into my mouth.

The last thing we do for the day is the ferris wheel. We go up and up against the sunset.

In the dying light of day, I realize something.

Rook has very pretty eyes, too.

Day 80

The pretty upperclassman came up and introduced himself.

Vil Schoenheit, Pomefiore’s dorm leader.

The queen.

He remarks that my pigtails are not asymmetrical today, and that I am a fast learner.

“You must be, little Shetland potato,” Vil comments, “if you are to deal with my huntsman.”

Day 84

...Rook was carrying a Pomefiore boy over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes.

He says that it’s his job to capture runaways, in service of his queen.

...I wonder how much he gets paid to do this?

Day 85

I told Rook about my hiking trip with Jade!

He seemed very interested, listening intently and nodding while I spoke.

Rook says that he, too, is a fan of the great outdoors, and that we should go on a camping trip together sometime.

I look forward to it.

Day 90

Today is the promised camping trip with Rook.

The weather is getting chillier, so he reminds me to dress warm. He will take care of the rest of the preparations. After all, he has had much more experience with these sorts of things.

I’m still cold, even when I show up in three layers. Rook tuts and throws his jacket over me, despite my protests.

He guides me through the forest, pointing out tiny things I would not have noticed on my own. That bunny’s burrow, those squirrels storing nuts for the upcoming winter, the rustle of the leaves, the trickle of water, how the sunlight filters through the trees...

Rook has such a poetic way of speaking.

He reminds me of a prince in a fairy tale.

Day 94

Rook told me that he has noticed that my speech has improved. He is proud, puffing up like a proud father. He spouts some nonsense about how “mon petit oiseau” (he helped me with the spelling) is becoming such a refined young lady.

I told him that his own manner of speech is far prettier than mine.

Rook just laughed and offered to help me improve more and more, if I wish.

I should pay a visit to Pomefiore, he said, and the queen will welcome me with open arms.

Day 95

Pomefiore is...beautiful. Violet tapestries, crimson curtains, and gold decorations dripping from every available crevice. And everyone is just as beautiful as their surroundings, skin like glass and eyes set in jewel-colored shadows.

I expected nothing less of the oldest dormitory at Night Raven College. The castle is steeped in years of history.

I was offered tea and a three tiered stand of snacks. Vil introduced me to a boy named Epel, who squirmed in his seat with discomfort.

He made us hold our tea cups all funny and barked at us to exchange words. Rook stands at his queen’s side and just...smiles at us as we suffer.

After that, Vil shepherded us to a large table, where two sets of cutlery were laid out.

I’m drilled for hours on end, until I can differentiate the several different variants of spoons, forks, and knives. Epel, too.

I am told to return every few days, to join Epel for his lessons. “It would do him some good to have someone to go through the motions with,” Vil insists. “It gives him some much needed...’encouragement’.”

More lessons for me.

...Somehow, I feel like Rook has me caught in a snare.

Day 100

Vil quips that we are learning ballroom dancing today.

I do not see the practical use of such a skill, but he will not take no for an answer.

Epel and I mutter apologies as we link hands and step on each other’s feet. Then the queen has us take turns spinning around with Rook.

He is very graceful on his feet--far more than myself or Epel. I’m nervous when my turn comes up, but Rook reassures me that it will be fine.

His arms form a cage to keep me from stumbling.

He clicks his tongue and says I need more practice.

Day 102

We focused on the arts today. Vil was busy with modeling (?) and told us that Rook would be our instructor. He says that the arts are his best subject, so please leave everything to him.

Rook shows us fruit bowls and pictures of scenery (he says he took the photographs himself)! Then he sets out canvases and paint sets and tells us to follow his lead.

His voice is a soft murmur as he beats his paintbrush against a blank canvas, breathing color into an otherwise lifeless world.

I do my best to do as he says.

Rook glances over--and he tells me, through a blinding smile, that my painting needs some work.

I have to agree.

Day 110

Epel is with friends today.

Rook takes this opportunity to grant me a language and writing lesson. He knows that I like writing, so now is as good of a time as any.

Rook hovers over me at a desk and suggests ways to make my writing sound...fancier.

I practice writing sentences like...

You are the light of my life, the lark’s birdsong in the still morning.

You are as lovely as the petals of a rose, lush and delicate and breathtakingly beautiful.

You are the moon and the starlight, twinkling in the depths of the darkness and guiding me to salvation.

I ask him what the point of these phrases were--and Rook answers, “For when you wish to woo whomever has captured your heart!” He makes it sound so easy.

He teaches me a few basic phrases of his flowery language, too.

I tell him merci.

Day 117

The queen puts books on my head and tells me to walk without dropping any of them.

Rook holds my hand and helps me keep balance.

It is warm, and comforting and supportive, just like Jade’s.

Then Vil whips out a pair of odd shoes, with stick-like things instead of a flat sole. He calls them heels and urges me to put them on.

I fall on my face, and Rook has to help me up.

On my second attempt, he catches me. He tells me I have the grace of a newborn fawn--that is to say, none at all.

Still, I feel safe in his arms.

Day 133

It is cold, and snowy.

Rook drags me outside anyway. He says exercise will do my frail little body some good.

But...no matter what I activity I do, I am miserable at it. Snowshoeing, ice skating, sledding. I am horrible at all of them, and more.

We settle for building a snowman.

I try to make it look cute.

Day 140

The cruise ship is boring. The beach is boring. It’s mostly older folks like Uncle sipping on tropical drinks and sunbathing.

I wish I had someone to talk to.

Of course, Jade would be nice and set my heart at ease...but Rook would be able to make even something as mundane as this fun.

I can already hear him shouting in my head about the clear blue waters, and the amber sunlight, and the snow white sand.

Look at me, I’m beginning to speak nonsense.

Well, nonsense it may be, but it is interesting nevertheless.

Rook is...interesting.

Day 149

There are lots of seagulls here.

...They remind me of Rook.

I am not quite sure why.

Maybe it is the incessant cawing.

Though...that is charming, in its own unique way.

Day 155

Rook brought back a souvenir from his home land--a bright blue feather on a beaded necklace. He says it is similar to the one the young prince of his country wears.

It turns out, he is from the Afterglow Savannah! What a surprise; I thought he would be from the Land of Pyroxene.

He regales me with stories of his adventures, of the many hunts he embarked on and his trophies.

His eyes are like emeralds, shining with excitement.

Day 167

I saw a play with Rook.

It told the story of two lovers whose families detested one another. The actors all speak quite frivolously, just like Rook. I can see why he would like this kind of thing.

My favorite part...it was the balcony scene.

The male lead cannot stand to be apart from the female lead, and so he sneaks into her garden at night. He summons her to the balcony and makes a vow that he will, no matter what, find a way to be with her.

...The play ends with death.

I cried a little, and Rook let me lean against his shoulder until I stopped.

Day 170

I penned a little story based on the play.

This one has a happy ending.

I want to put some hope into the world.

Day 185 (Continued)

I asked Rook if he was excited for Valentine’s Day, if he was expecting any gifts.

He gave me a mysterious smile in response and said, “Ah, that is for me to know and for you to find out, mon petit oiseau.”

I wonder what he means by that.

Day 186 (Continued)

I will give Rook some chocolate, too!

As thanks for being my friend.

Day 197 (Continued)

I made little heart-shaped bon-bons for Rook.

Perfect for the Hunter of Love.

Day 198 (Continued)

I want to curl up and die, diary.

Rook saw me crying today, under the shade of the great apple tree that towers in the school courtyard.

He asked me what was wrong, a concerned look on his face.

I snapped at him, told him to leave me be.

...But rather than bombard me with questions or annoy me with overly embellished words...

...Rook sat next to me silently. He held my hand until I stopped crying.

Then I spilled everything. I don’t know why I did. I...I guess I wanted someone to know of my story.

Starting with my arrival at Night Raven College. Ending with Jade’s betrayal.

I told Rook the tale through my tears and disgusting sobbing. It was absolutely pathetic, but...he listened patiently.

When I finished, he told me something.

“Mon petit oiseau, I would never lie to you.”

And I believe him.

Day 200

I cried again.

Stupid Leeches.

Day 202

I am scared of Jade.

I say as much to Rook.

He makes a joke about sharpening a harpoon and going eel hunting.

...At least, I think it is a joke.

Day 215

Rook now greets me as soon as my classes let out. His smile and laugh are reassuring to see.

He makes sure I get home safely, and without being accosted.

I cannot say merci enough.

Day 227

...It is ironic.

The man I once ran from is now the one I willingly go to for shelter, and the man I once went to for shelter is now the one I run from.

What a strange reversal of fortune.

Day 228

I feel eyes on me again.

...Leeches, most likely.

Day 230

Tomorrow is another day.

I will stay at Rook’s side.

It is the only place I feel safe beyond Uncle’s attic.

Day 231

I can trust him.

I can trust Rook.

He will tell an ugly truth right off the bat.

He values honesty, integrity--like me.

And birds of a feather must flock together.

[harveywritings92]

40yr old! Jacob Frye x Accidental!Wife reader ch 2

The next morning Y/n was woken up by the soft tapping of computer keys, news reporters chatting on the TV and the smell of cheap coffee her eyes tiredly adjusted to dim light to find Jacob sitting on the end of the couch on his computer, occasionally his eyes would which over and watch the TV then return to his computer, he noticed Y/n was awake and saved whatever he was working on and closed his Laptop. "Good morning, Sleep well?" he asked watching her body language for any discomfort.

The y/nat nodded then looked over to kitchen isle to see a lanky man in a blue tweed jacket, yellow plaid pants reading something. "Who's that?" Y/n asked brows furrowed. "That is Robert Topping, my accountant and attorney." Jacob introduced the ash blond man to her, Robert looked up from his document nodded at her. "Accoun... why is he here?" The y/nat woman asked pulling herself out of her sleeping bag as Jacob to the paper cup of black coffee he'd also brought some creamer and sugar since he didn't know what she liked or how she took it.

"He's here to help with our current situation." Jacob explained Y/n grabbed the cup and made it how she likes it, "Is he now?" She hummed as her tired mind started waking up becoming a little more aware. "Yes, particularly the situation on... What was his name?" The hazel eyed man inquired as the y/ht eyes turned stormy. "Ex/full name..." She hissed lips forming a thin line her husband mirrored her face obviously feeling a sort of kinship with the younger woman.

"Yes... him, after extensive research, we found some hiccups that we'd like you to fill in for us." The y/nat woman cocked a brow at the men confused as Topping handed her a file. "You investigated me?!" She said stunned as Jacob averted his obviously not wanting to say anything! luckily Robert explained.

"My apologies Mrs Fr-...um, Miss L/n it was a precaution; Mr. Frye has a reputation and has made quite few enemies for himself over the years, We had to make You really are who you say you are and not some plant or ploy to take him out... "

Y/n blinked and looked at the men like grown three heads. "Take him out?....Why is Jacob important or something?" Now it was Robert and Jacob's turn to look surprised, Jacob was more in childlike awe; while Robert's face was 'are you kidding?' and seemed to be waiting for the y/ht woman to start laughing.... But she didn't; she sat there waiting for one of them to answer her. "You really don't know who I am?" Jacob asked still unsure if she was telling the truth Y/n shook her head still waiting.

[If reader is British/half British: Robert's jaw dropped before sputtering out "You're English! Who doesn't know Jacob Frye? Founder and CEO of Rook security?!" Y/n was frazzled stammering "w-Well I didn't grow up in the UK! we moved to San Francisco when I was 10!" she shrinking back as the ash blond man processed what she had said...That obviously wasn't in the file. "So, He's a big deal got it...Can we go back to my file?"]

[Reader isn't British: Robert's jaw dropped before sputtering out "Jacob Frye?..." the y/hc shrugged. "Founder And CEO of Rook security?!" He snapped getting in her face Y/n was frazzled stammering "w-Well I'm from [country] and moved here from San Francisco, we don't have Rook security there!" she said shrinking back as the ash blond man processed what she had said...That obviously wasn't in the file. "So, He's a big deal got it...Can we go back to my file?"]

Robert straightened and coughed looked at Jacob who seemed mulling this over, this was certainly new... He's never met someone who hasn't heard of him! Y/n was looking through that file he'd given her, it was thorough she'll admit it had almost everything about her, EX/n and ExBF/n... Well, almost everything.

They didn't know about her involvement with DedSec and Aiden Pearce... Good, she intends to keep it that way. "So, you need me to fill in the blanks?" Robert nodded as Y/n wrote down some of the things they were missing. Apparently something caught the lawyer's eye.

"When filling out your former address you just put your name on the lease not you ex's"

"Well, he didn't sign the lease he never showed up to the appointment."

"So, the house in your name? Well that just made things very easy."

"I'm not following?"

The Lawyer calmly packed up his things. "Oh you'll find out in a few hours, you two enjoy your morning." Y/n blinked still trying understand what the hell was going on? while Jacob got up and thanked Robert for stopping by reminded the blond to check if Clara had rescheduled his meetings, which the lawyer didn't even have to.

Clara already texted Jacob. "Never mind, I'll see you later Robert." he said checking his phone then closing the door, then turning his attention back to Y/n who was awkwardly sitting on the couch she looked very uncomfortable considering last night and the fact that they never got the chance to know one another.

"Do... do you want to take a shower or go shopping? I said I'd get you a bed."

"I'll take a shower first, um thank you Mr. Frye."

"Oh... Don't call me Mr. Frye... I'm your... Just call me Jacob."

"Right, Thank you Jacob."

His lips twitched hearing his name leave her lips, He told her she was free use his whatever soaps and shampoos his ex left behind, She got up and went into her room to get her clothes and checked the dryer for the towels she washed last night. 

She didn't trust any of her hygiene products, when Jacob was sorting through the bags Ex/n had left on the curb... She had a two bottles of Nair in her bathroom and none of those bottles were in the bags. In fact her body lotion and shampoo looked like they were tampered with.

Y/n got into the bathroom looked in the small closet off the side of the shower and found some shampoo brands she recognized, it would seem 'Karin' didn't just waste money on clothes and make up. Y/n grabbed a 2&1 and got to business. 

After getting cleaned up Y/n came out of the bathroom about fifteen minutes later in her hoodie and jeans to find Jacob still watching the news he turned when he heard the bathroom door and looked a the y/nat woman like she were an alien... "What?" She asked looking at him oddly his brows furrowed looking at the time then back at her. "Aren't you going to get ready?" He asked the y/hc woman down at at what she was wearing then back at him.

"I am ready."

"What about make up? and hair?"  

Y/n hummed and tied her long hair into a ponytail/trucked her short hair behind her ear with a y/fc bobby pin. "Hair's done." she chirped and checked the mirror next to her. "I don't really wear make-up unless I have to/ I have light cover up on." she explain checking her complexion it seemed seemed fine she went to get her jacket and purse, The cogs seem to stop in Jacob's head as he contemplated this... 

Karin usually took two bloody hours to get ready!(most of that time was used up texting and taking selfies) then she would complain about how late they were and blame him for humiliating her!

So seeing Y/n come out of the bathroom in less then twenty minutes was like an indoor fireworks display! He had to blink a few times just to make sure he wasn't seeing things, He got his jacket on as just as Y/n came out of her room. 

He cocked a brow at the bag he hadn't noticed it last night, it appeared to be faux gray leather and gold spikes, but that's not what got his attention it was this accessory it appeared to be a Q-Ball? attached to some kind of cord? "What's that?" he asked pointing at it curiously, Y/n tensed up a bit as she tried to come up something, but she had a hunch that Jacob was a little too clever...

"It's a thunder ball..."

"And it is?"

"It's um...A weapon."

"...A weapon, why would you need a weapon for?"

"Well a girl's gotta defend herself, you won't always be here 24/7!" Y/n said as Jacob was about to say something to her only to be cut by Hyacinth Connery the miserable old woman next door who scrunched up her nose at Y/n, pretty much tipping the couple on who called security on her. "Who let this thieving waif back in?" she sneered at the y/nat woman who's jaw tightened at the saggy woman's remark. "Best check her pockets Mr. Frye little dirty mutt might've taken Mrs. Frye's jewelry..."

She huffed in disgust as Jacob finally spoke up furious. "This is Mrs. Frye, you backwards old bat..." He growled in low threatening voice, the old woman looked at him appalled clutching her chest like she was having a heart attack, and then she started chanting and praying that Jacob would see the error of his ways for throwing a good woman like Karin away for a gold digging whore!

"Sod off ya miserable bitch!" the British man snarled before grabbing Y/n's hand and walking on to the elevator, Y/n jumped as the brown haired man punched the wall leaving a sizable dent, there were a few moments of awkward silence... as Jacob took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." He tried to apologize to the y/nat woman shook her head. "It's fine-" her husband wasn't having it. "No, It's not fine! she cro- " Y/n cut him off. "Jacob, let it go." She snapped making it clear that she wasn't a stranger to cruel bias and assumption.

"We had ten of those of old bats on my block, didn't have anything better to do then to make people day's more miserable..." She explained how she was her family's lost cause and [Town/suburb name] black sheep had a grunge phase when she was in her teens lost weight, got into fights, often was accused of being a drug addict because of how poorly she was taking care of herself, even had the cops called on her just for walking home from school, the store, riding a bike...etc.

How she got out of that, was during summer vacation she got her hands on some alcohol and walked all the way to the railroad tracks, with the intentions of ending it. when she was saved by a man named Aiden, He pulled her off the tracks he was so pissed yelled at her told her that life is still starting out for her, and whatever she thinks is a big deal now? will seem inconsequential in ten years... of course none of that will matter if she's dead!

After she sobered up, Y/n tracked Aiden down; he got her back on her feet taught her about computers, how to build them, program them (hack them) eventually she started studying, eating more, getting less fights; Family still ignored her mainly because she refused to conform to their views and plans, only called unless they wanted something. But hey, she was doing what she loved!

[in Jacob's truck.]

Jacob stared at Y/n curiously his eyes roamed over her body curiously he can't really imagine her as a teenage delinquent, then again he vaguely recalled seeing a few scars on her back last night after accidentally walking in on her changing... speaking of which. 

"Sorry for last night I should have knocked." he said clearing his throat while keeping his eyes on the road, Y/n face felt hot as she recalled the memory she averted her eyes to look out the window. "Ah...i-It's not your fault ,it was an accident." she stammered awkwardly glancing at him from her peripherals, truth be told with everything that happened yesterday she never really got a good look a Jacob...

Frankly she was liking what she was seeing, he had perm and proper air at first glance but those scars and that roguish smirk screamed maverick and he is proud of it! "Something on my face?" Jacob inquired humor evident in his tone, he knew she was staring! the y/wt woman's face felt like it was on fire. "Um, not particularly." Jacob assumed she was staring at his scar, he said he got it as child doing something stupid...

Claimed he and his sister found switch blade when they were children, and like an idiot pointed it at his eye... and well, he found the switch. but couldn't find the blade? "Not much to it afterwards, sister freaked got dad, went for stitches." Well that's the story He and Evie tell people in actuality he got it during an assassination contract. But and far as Jacob's concerned Y/n will never find out about that side of him...

Jacob turned into a plaza parking lot and he and Y/n got out of his truck, the y/hc woman looked up the large warehouse like furniture store then down to look at the large windows, to see bedroom sets and mattresses advertised in the widow, Jacob setting his alarm caused her to jump a little. before heading inside. Nothing really stood out to Y/n until she laid eyes on a very nice futon couch set ! it was sturdy, cheap and pretty comfy ... "I like this, I wanna get it!" She said again Jacob gave her the same look as when she left the bathroom.

Causing the y/ht woman to snap "Why do you keep gawking at me like that?!"  the hazel eyed blinked and stammered about his EX and  how she she would buy this tacky modern bed set that was in the 5-7 thousand range which caused Y/n to frown.

"I'm not Karin..." She hissed coldly. "So stop assuming that I'm just like her." Jacob winced realizing that he was subconsciously assuming Y/n was only with him for his money and the publicity. "Right, Sorry..." He said trying to understand that not everyone is like his ex!

The y/wt woman frowned and seemed to want to say something to him but, was interrupted by a ring tone from her purse that certainly didn't belong to her, Jacob noticed the bemusement as her brows furrowed she pulled out this shiny new phone out of her bag and answered.    

"Hello?"

"Hey N/n it's Wrench!...how ya feel doll?"

"Wrench?...who's phone am I using?"

"It's your new phone!"

"New Phone?..Well where's my phone?!" Y/n demanded looked at Jacob who mouth out who's Wrench? at her she responded with family while her cousin talked to her. "in pieces at that ritzy bar where you smashed it!" He chirped as Y/n stammered. "I..I did what now?!" he chuckled stating that it was no surprise she forgot! she was pretty sloshed! 

He made comment about how he last saw Y/n slopping spit with old dude before blacking out, and how he was out of commission yesterday nursing his hangover and figuring of where in London he was. 

"So, how'd you get home call a cab or something?" her cousin asked Y/n and looked at Jacob. "I didn't really go home ...I Um." Shit, How the hell was she going to explain this? Y/n knows she has tell someone in her family! And as extreme as he was Wrench was was the only one she can trust not to tell her parents.

"It's all right you can tell him." Jacob said realizing what the y/ht woman was thinking. "Well, Wrench you see the night before..." She took a breath "I sort of married the guy you saw me with." there was a few seconds of silence..."YOU WHAT?!?!" both Y/n and Jacob cringed at the echo. Wait... Echo? Her y/ec eyes started looking around the store, before landing on the souvenir section and spotting a lanky hooded tattooed man in punk clothes with his back to her.

She told Wrench to look behind him and Jacob was greeted by the oddest mask he's ever seen! This Wrench fellow made it go [o_0] as he hung up the cell phone."What the hell?" He said walking over to them as Y/n awkwardly introduced her cousin to her husband the to He =_= and Jacob scrutinized each other silently like they were trying to intimidate each other, the y/nat woman was worried a fight was about to break out. Before the British man broke the silence.

"Nice mask."  

"Nice scars."

"*smirk*"

"Yeah...Okay we're good!" ^_^"

Wrench and Jacob shook hands while Y/n let out a breath she hadn't realized she holding, as her cousin pulled away from Jacob and threw an arm around her shoulder. "So, I guess this means you're not gonna be sleeping on my couch in San Fran eh?" he said jokingly even though two did have a serious drunk discussion about it. "No I guess not..." she looked back at Jacob to was talking with a clerk who showed him a tablet to order the furniture off of and where to send it to, She then looked back at her cousin.

"He's a good guy Wrench even if I haven't known him long..." She said knowing her cousin and knows Wrench wasn't really okay with this, but Y/n really wanted this to work. So, she was begging him to please tolerate Jacob, for her? her cousin sighed and nodded. 

"Can't say no to that face... Y'know I spoil you." he mused ruffling her hair as Jacob finish speaking with the clerk and moved onto his cell phone. "And you're sure they're gone? .... Yes! We'll be right over." He said hanging up and turning to the cousins. "We have to go now!" Jacob said ushering Y/n to the door surprising the y/ht woman and her cousin.

"Wait, Wha.. where are we going?" she asked as he rushed them the parking lot Wrench following behind. his a lit with quest marks ?_? The the hazel eyed man turned to them and with a smirk. "My boys tell me your EX and friend have just left your house." Y/n brows furrowed confused before Wrench and her made the connection, there were going to get the rest of her stuff that wasn't in the bags which included her computer! "Oh can I come?" Wrench asked Jacob stared for a few seconds.

"I suppose, Y/n would feel comfortable with you there." He stated they got in the truck Y/n was about to tell him the directions when Jacob reminded her that he already knew, from her file.

Wrench looked between them clearly wanting to be let on what Jacob was talking about. "He sort of looked into my background..." her cousin looked at her alarmed but the pointed she shot him pretty told him she didn’t say anything about their hacking business and relaxed a little... though he was still very much on edge.

Which Jacob picked up on but stayed quiet as they got to Y/n's neighborhood a large moving truck, two cop, several large men all wearing Rook security uniforms and her landlord along with mister Topping. "Holy crap!" Wrench said stunned at the small militia. "Did you marry duke?" He asked genuinely curious Y/n shrugged obviously just as surprised.

 Jacob chuckled at their reaction. "Not a Duke I'm afraid, but I have been Knighted." He said parking his truck as his wife and her cousin gawk at him. "Get the fuck outta here."  Wrench said in disbelief the smirk Jacob had on his face told them he was very much serious! He got out both Y/n and Wrench were still both stunned about what they heard before the fixer burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Y/n demanded as her cousins briefly took his mask off to catch his breath, luckily the windows were tinted no one could see him. It felt so weird hearing Wrench's natural voice and seeing his face after seeing him in a mask for so long."You always said you were waiting for a knight come sweep you off your feet!" 

He joked recalling their childhood, the y/hc woman's face felt hot as strangled noise left her mouth then managing to blurting out "I-I said that when I was eight!" Wrench snorted fixing his mask. "And dreams do come true!~" He sighed dramatically before hugging her with heart eyes. "Get off!" she hissed getting out of the truck knowing her face looked like a tomato, Jacob cocked a brow at her flustered appearance.

"What were you two talking about?"

"Noting, just dumb kid stuff."

"Right, I believe you...*Snort* M’lady."

"...You heard everything didn't you?"

Jacob gave her a sly grin, Yes. He totally did... Which left Y/n confused how he could've possibly heard her and Wrench talking, the windows were rolled up aside from armored plating his truck had been also customized to be sound proof! 

She knows this because it's some type of mod Dedsec used on their hideout walls, an amplifier wouldn't be able to penetrate it! Yet here's Jacob sitting on the grill of his truck acting it's not a big deal! Her heart was pounding against her chest as Mr.Frye's hazel eyes were transfixed on her before Robert cleared his throat snapping them out of their stare down.

He pretty much gave them a rundown grab anything that belonged to Y/n and get it on to the truck before EX/n and EXbf returned from wherever they going, but first Y/n's landlord had a few forms to sign her lease cancellation since she had already paid that months rent and utilities she owed them nothing! so any damage or unauthorized changes to the property was now coming out of her ex's pocket instead. Y/n did that ,soon they were allowed inside luckily noting was trashed as it had only been one day.

Y/n soon got to work telling Jacob's employees what was hers and and they loaded them onto the truck outside her grandmother's vanity and strongbox that had her jewelry. Only Y/n and Wrench had the combo to that box and they could tell Ex/n tried to open it had scratches all over it, her laptop was also intact, but it was clear they tried to access it. 

Photo albums, and her sci-fi collectibles, They also took the game system since it was Y/n's in the first place and the rest of her clothes the stuff she had were just her lazy wear and pajamas, why Exbf wanted her clothes was ridiculous! they weren't even the same size!

They were just about finished when they heard a car honking it's horn followed by someone cussing at the Rooks. "What the fucks going on, what are you doing in my house?!" Y/n stiffened hearing her ex's voice The police who had been stationed outside told him to calm down."While Exbf started freaking about them stealing her clothes and jewelry. 

"You mean my clothes and grandma's jewelry!" Y/n snapped causing the couple to jump obviously stunned to find she was the one behind this! "What the hell-" her ex took a step took towards the y/ht woman only to get an a envelope shoved into his face. As Robert Topping stood in front her. "Not another step, sir." Ex/n demanded to know who the lanky man was?

"I am Miss L/n's attorney, and a legal representative of her husband Jacob Frye." Ex/n eyes bugged out of his skull when he heard that name. "And it is within my duty to inform you that if you take one more step or cause any harm towards Y/n you will be criminally charged, along with the theft and wrongful eviction that is if miss L/n wants to press charges." Ex backed off clearly not wanting to stir that pot he'd eaten alive in court! while ExBF was fucking confused considering she wasn't from the UK so she had no idea who Jacob Frye was! wasn’t about to be strong armed by some doormat like Y/n!

She made a beeline towards the y/nat woman ready beat her ass! as she so loudly declared in front of the cops, security and Jacob's attorney, the thing is ExBF may know showroom Y/n whose a wet blanket and pushover! She doesn't know the real Y/n who took up boxing (among other things) and so when she took a swing at the y/ht girl deflected it and popped her right in the solar plexus causing ExBF to fall to her knees and start wheezing and coughing in pain.

Y/n crouched down and sighed "You have no idea long I've wanted to do that!" she said contently before getting up and looking at her EX who back away from her like she was made kryptonite. "You best find a job and soon, Because I'm not paying your rent anymore." she hissed shouldering passed him.

Jacob who was watching from the porch felt a pleasant shock go down his spine, he was definitely starting to like Y/n, he smirked he walking passed ExBF who was being helped up by Ex/n the couple watched as Y/n and her cousin got into this really nice truck. As Jacob ordered his Rooks to drop off Y/n's stuff at his apartment they'll meet them there, Leaving the cheating couple reeling over what the hell just happened?

Wrench helped set Y/n’s room and stayed with the newly weds for the last three days of his stay in London, he and Jacob bonded over eighty movies, while simultaneously embarrassing Y/n with old childhood stories, Some of which she denied ever happening, soon it was time for Wrench to return to San Francisco Y/n and Jacob saw him off at the airport. (He replaced his Led-Mask with a black surgical mask).

Before him left, he gave Y/n a very ominous message. "Watch your back, Blumes been planting roots." The y/ht woman frowned hearing this looking back at Jacob who seemed distracted a the cafe kiosk since it was six thirty in the morning. "Are you sure?" She asked seriously the masked man nodded showing her photos on his phone she saw a construction site near Whitechapel and familiar flower logo on the fence. 

"Thanks telling me, I'll keep an eye on it." she said hugging him goodbye, Wrench waved at her as he disappeared behind the gate, Just as paper bag appeared in her line of sight. "Doughnut for your thoughts love?" Jacob's voice tiredly joked as Y/n cracked a smile. "That was so cheesy." she snorted as the two left the the Airport hand in hand...      

[kiruuuuu]

Blitz/Rook oneshot in which, for once, Blitz completely sweeps Rook off his feet :) (Rating E, explicit + bursting with fluff, ~6.8k words) - written for @cheloneh​! I can’t thank you enough for commissioning me yet again, I really enjoy writing for you 💝💝 And this was a ton of fun to write again!! Find my commission info here!

This fic has also been posted to AO3! You can read it here :)

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Rook is being a cheeky little bitch.

It’s not out of the ordinary, not at all, he’s known for his occasional sassiness – he managed to earn his reputation early on when Doc made him miss lunch one day, so he unpacked a large slice of lasagne during a meeting Ash conducted later. She informed him eating was not allowed in the room yet made the mistake of saying yes when Rook asked whether drinking was alright. He returned after a few minutes, lasagne puréed into an unsavoury mess, and poured it down his throat while keeping up eye contact with Ash. He’s probably glad Maestro hadn’t joined at that point or else he might’ve ended up with a lifelong nemesis that day.

Over time, Blitz himself has repeatedly fallen victim to Rook’s mischievous streak as well, received quite a few backhanded compliments he sometimes only understood a day later (when it was decidedly too late to be upset), got tricked into doing Rook favours without realising and allowed the Frenchman to manipulate him into various activities – but since they tend to involve making out with abandon, mind-blowing orgasms and staying home just to cuddle these days, he’s not complaining.

So, no, Blitz is very accustomed to Rook’s antics and even more familiar with the knowing glances he gets whenever he lets his boyfriend walk all over him in public, which in this case is represented by Bandit’s meaningful smirk taunting him from the seat opposite him. Still, it’s all in good humour. Blitz wishes he could make everyone understand, because as much as it looks like Rook is taking advantage of his patience, generosity and naiveté, Rook apologises to him in private if he feels he went too far, makes it up to him with petting his hair until he falls asleep, back rubs and brewing him a hot chocolate just when he needs it, and he always makes sure Blitz is fine with his brash behaviour.

Which he is. Really, he loves Rook just the way he is, with all his impulsive thoughtlessness, infuriating lack of focus and regular disregard of rules, because there’s so, so much more to him than that.

It’s just -

It’s really hard to concentrate on the paperwork which should’ve been finished last week (and will earn the entire German team yet another bollocking from Six if they don’t submit it today) when Rook is lounging on the armchair in a way that his midriff is largely exposed while sucking down a popsicle and spreading his legs suggestively. Prior to the view with which he’s graced right now, Blitz would’ve steadfastly claimed there was no wrong way of occupying a chair but now he’d have to retract that statement because holy hell, how can he even contort himself like this?

Rook knows this is important work which needs to be done, and yet he ignored Blitz’ reassurance that it’s fine if he leaves early (and if he’s honest it was more of a plead than an offer, he knew Rook would distract him somehow if he stayed) and remained, talking to anyone and everyone until they all left. And then he became bored.

By now, the entire base knows that a bored Rook is a dangerous Rook.

It started with him sending sweet texts which quickly devolved into sleazy texts at which point Blitz muted his own phone, progressed with Rook undressing enough to still be decent yet showing off his assets unashamedly and has now peaked with the current display. He makes for an extremely pretty picture: tongue swirling over the ice cream, fingers lazily playing with the hem of his shirt whose sleeves happened to ride up and expose his biceps, and if that wasn’t enough already, the aqua blue tinted bedroom eyes are the epitome of seduction techniques. Blitz’ knees go a little weak.

“Kötz!”, Bandit nearly yells at him, irritation bleeding into his previously delighted expression and betraying the fact that he must’ve addressed Blitz several times already, to no avail. With herculean effort, he tears his gaze away from bright red lips curling in amusement to an unimpressed Bandit. “Jesus Christ, you two need to fuck it out of your system? Want me to go eat a long dinner and give you some privacy?”

Blitz is useless and it must be obvious enough for Bandit to notice. For most of the past hour, Blitz has been doing nothing but throw surreptitious glances at his reasonably well-behaved lover who has slowly morphed from a quiet, soothing presence into exactly the kind of softcore porn directly wired to Blitz’ crotch. He’s had a few stressful days leaving him little time to spend with Rook and thus was planning on making it up to him once he’s finished with his current task, but watching Rook over Bandit’s shoulder, watching as his hand glides lower and fingertips dip into the waistband of his trousers while he almost chokes himself on the popsicle -

Rook knows nothing is going to come out of it, not when Blitz is busy, but simply getting a rise out of him counts as a victory – he adores Blitz when he’s frazzled, relishes making him blush and loves nothing more than embarrassing him with blunt statements, so Blitz asking him to leave or even just adjusting his own jeans would be a success.

He’s probably not accounting for the fact that Blitz, too, is touch-starved, missing their relaxed evenings together, wishing he had more time to spend with his boyfriend. He’s not considering how long Blitz has been working on their reports already, how sick of it he is, how little patience he has left for Bandit’s endless inappropriate remarks and how frustrating it is to be allowed to look but not touch.

And so Blitz creates a deafening, dumbstruck, disbelieving silence when he turns to Bandit and sweetly says: “That’s a great suggestion, actually. Would you?”

It fills him with immense, grim satisfaction to see both banes of his existence unable to process what just happened.

“Mon cœur -”, Rook starts to protest and slides into his chair like a normal human being, still seemingly shocked, whereas Bandit slowly begins to grin. He gets it: Blitz has tilted, and if anyone can identify this fact, it’d be Bandit.

Bandit was the one present when Blitz tore into their direct superior for endangering lives unnecessarily, he witnessed Blitz drink a worrying amount of energy drinks and climb a dilapidated ten-storey building because someone made the mistake of challenging him, and even knows about the time Blitz stubbornly refused to lose in a competition of who can eat the most hot peppers. It took place in India. Blitz was filled with fire and regret for an entire week but hey, he won.

There’s a time where he just says fuck it and since it hasn’t happened in a while, since he has barely even kissed Rook recently and since Rook seemed so dead set on flaunting his assets, that time is now.

“Sure”, Bandit agrees easily, much to the Frenchman’s open disbelief, and actually gets up. “Take your time. I know I will.”

“Wait.” Watching Rook attempt to figure out whether they’re taking the piss or actually being serious is just as gratifying as his eyes widening proportionally the closer Bandit moves to the office door. “You’re not – mon cœur, you’re not seriously -”

“I’m dead serious”, Blitz replies with a smile, because he is. And also because it’s hilarious to see Rook this flustered.

“You better believe him”, Bandit adds and probably serves more to undermine Blitz’ authority than strengthen it, at least with how hyena-like his grin is. “Maybe if you ask nicely, he’s gonna raw you on the desk like you asked.”

Okay, no. Hold on a moment. “Dom, are you reading my private messages again?”

“No, just a lucky guess. It’s obvious your fromage is giving you the fuck-me eyes and if he didn’t have a boner for anything office job related, he certainly wouldn’t be dating you of all people.”

Under different circumstances, Blitz would object to his love life being dragged to the surface or Bandit speaking of Rook like this, but he’s about a week’s worth of overtime past caring about details. “You read the texts upside down”, he states drily.

“I read the texts upside down.”

“Hey”, Rook protests weakly, the melting ice cream in his hand forgotten, but once again is ignored by both Germans.

“Anyway, have fun, you disgusting lovebirds, I’m gonna head to Fowler’s for some chips.” Bandit’s hand is on the doorknob already but he pauses when he notices Blitz’ dubious expression. “What? That gonna be too quick? Want me to go to Domino’s instead?” The pizza joint is a considerably longer distance away and notorious for always being busy, thus racking up ample waiting time. Blitz nods wordlessly.

“You’re fucking with me”, Rook says without much conviction in his voice at all.

“Domino’s it is. If you swipe all this shit off the desk though, there’s no way I’m gonna help sort it, just so we’re clear.”

“Maybe you should buy enough pizza for all of us”, Blitz suggests politely and earns both a finger as well as a good-natured laugh, and then Bandit slams the door shut behind him.

Rook is thunderstruck. Eyes and mouth wide open, he’s like a fish out of water and Blitz really can’t blame him. Due to a variety of reasons, Rook tends to initiate their lovemaking; it’s yet another distribution of roles which came about naturally over the course of their relationship – Rook initiates and usually expresses a preference and Blitz has the final word on what they actually end up doing. It works perfectly and so they don’t often stray from this tried and tested method, and even when they do it’s oftentimes at Rook’s nudging.

It’s why he can’t deal with being propositioned this bluntly.

“We’re not really gonna have sex now”, Rook tries again, voice dying on the last syllable when Blitz’ chair creaks over the floor and gets up. His next words are uttered very quietly: “… are we?”

“My love”, Blitz murmurs as he steps up to his by now reasonably intimidated-looking boyfriend with a soothing smile. “My sunshine, my treasure.” He leans down to press their lips together gently, smile widening when Rook, despite his lack of composure, tilts his head into it. He tastes of sugar and artificial strawberries, a syrupy layer on his cool tongue and for once, he’s not trying to inappropriately deepen the kiss. Blitz would guess it has to do with him seemingly expecting Bandit to burst back in triumphantly any moment now, if his stiff body language is anything to go by.

It’s a wonderful feeling and an immense comfort to allow himself to indulge in his lover, but since he’s got other plans, Blitz keeps the touching of lips brief. “Of course not”, he assures Rook.

Rook seems unable to make up his mind whether he’s relieved or upset at this revelation. Momentary hunger creeps into his expression when Blitz lifts his wrist so he can lick off the excess liquid running down Rook’s fingers from the melted treat, but as usual, he’s less cocky without an audience and therefore doesn’t capitalise on the coquettish display. Especially since he seems to believe Blitz. “Then what -”

“Julien, my heart’s desire. Would you like to go on a trip to Brussels with me?”

And this is where the Frenchman momentarily shuts down. Blinking owlishly and breathing still works, yet beyond that not much is going on as he struggles to process the question, much to Blitz’ delight. He’d wanted it to be much more romantic, wanted to floor his lover with how thoughtful he can be if he sets his mind to it – he was going to buy a rose on the way back from work together with Rook’s favourite pastry from the bakery at the other end of the city, and ask him in the privacy of his apartment, maybe while they’re cuddling and catching up on the couch or the bed. This is… not ideal, not what he’d had in mind, but he’ll take it. After all, it doesn’t look like it’s missing its intended effect.

“Wha”, says Rook.

“I know I’ve been working too much lately and I miss spending entire days with you, so I requested some time off in two weeks. When you’re also off duty.” His explanation does nothing to diminish his boyfriend���s endless astonishment – if anything, it seems to make it worse as the realisation is slowly sinking in.

“But you said you couldn’t -”

“I did. I changed my mind. You’re too important to me to prioritise work over you. I want to show you how much I value the time we spend together.” And Rook is painfully aware of how hard it is for Blitz to pour out his heart like this, reveal his feelings. He’s probably gathered bits and pieces from comments Blitz dropped here and there, put two and two together and painted an adequately grim picture of previous relationships in his mind, as evidenced by the fact that he doesn’t pry, never once drilled Blitz on his past in that regard. The awkward dancing preceding Rook’s half frustrated, half exasperated confession might’ve been telling enough already: Blitz has a hard time fully committing for fear of being rejected.

Right now, there’s no anxiety nesting in his chest. Somewhere along the way, somewhere amidst the open devotion and unshaken trust he finally allowed himself to believe Rook’s emotions are genuine and that his own infatuation is reciprocated just as strongly.

And Rook very much knows how difficult it must’ve been for Blitz to prepare this open declaration of love, which is why he visibly softens, helpless and unsure how to respond. And he smiles, basically beams, and mutters: “Please stop.” And -

Uh.

Now it’s Blitz’ turn to blink at his lover, a little lost, which does not escape Rook as he immediately backpedals: “No, I mean – you’re gonna make me cry. In, in a good way. Goddamn, mon cœur, I’m just – I don’t know what to say. Fuck.”

“You could say yes?”, Blitz suggests politely and earns a small laugh.

“Okay. Yes.” Still smiling so widely his cheeks must hurt by this point, Rook tosses the remains of his popsicle at the trash can, gets up to be at eye level with Blitz and hugs him tight enough to suffocate. “Yes, let’s go to Brussels. I’d love to, I’ve always wanted to go.”

It was all Blitz wanted to hear. He peppers Rook’s luscious hair and temple with kisses as he holds him close and can’t keep a certain smugness out of his voice: “I know.” He’s aware of seeming quite scatter-brained sometimes, especially in non-work-related issues, but his memory is excellent. And this is a snippet of information he filed away carefully when he stumbled over it.

Still, as lovely as it is to be pressed against Rook’s solid, warm body, it’s by far not nearly enough, and so he asks in the most innocent tone he can muster: “So is it okay if I ravish you now?”

In the following stunned silence, Blitz starts out by swirling the tip of his tongue over his lover’s outer ear, prompting a breathless oh, and when he switches to nibbling at the earlobe, he’s rewarded with an even more breathless ah. He can feel Rook melting in his arms, clearly overwhelmed with the entire situation but audibly loving it, therefore he meets no resistance as he pushes him towards the sturdy desk, never once ceasing his ministrations. When Rook’s thighs come into contact with solid wood (and they’re going to feel the same from both sides very soon with how Blitz’ anticipatory need is climbing steadily), Blitz is busy dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin on Rook’s neck, feeling him shiver in his arms. It’s an immense rush to notice how much he’s already affecting the Frenchman; knowing he’s desired as much as he’s desiring is intoxicating in itself.

“Don’t joke about this”, Rook pleads as soon as he’s given a moment to breathe. He’s whispering and every word crawls under Blitz’ skin, creates an electrifying friction he almost expects to see between their faces, a result of implied longing and heated gazes and the involuntary twitching of fingers against his side. “I know you’d never actually do anything in the office, so teasing me like this is -”

Blitz interrupts him wordlessly by reaching out and, with a single broad swipe, sends all the papers populating the desktop flying – all the while holding Rook’s gaze.

Rook shuts up instantly, his pained expression slipping into incredulity, and when the gesture registers, it looks like he encounters a little trouble standing straight. “Oh fuck”, he breathes quietly.

“That’s the idea”, Blitz agrees and kisses him. This time, he’s not holding back since there’s no reason – he’s said what he wanted to say, received the reply he was hoping for and now all that’s left is to worship his boyfriend until he’ll have trouble walking. His tongue wrestles for control which Rook readily grants him, moaning into his mouth as he holds onto Blitz for dear life, and when he has to bend backwards with the force of the kiss he finally gets the hint and hops onto the now empty table. It allows for an even deeper make out session and Blitz belatedly realises just how horny he is when Rook’s strong legs wrap around him to hold him in place as he keeps running his hand through brown curls and sucking on Rook’s lower lip.

“This is the hottest thing you’ve ever done”, his lover murmurs against his mouth, sounding positively enthralled and forcing a delighted laugh out of Blitz. “Come on, let me feel you. We haven’t done anything in so long, I’m dying, let me touch you.”

“No.” He almost laughs again over Rook’s exaggerated pout. “My pace. I want you to enjoy this.”

“And what if I want you to enjoy this?”

Even now, Rook is rebelliously testing boundaries. If Blitz is honest, it’s utterly adorable. “Julien, I enjoy myself the most when I know you’re enjoying yourself.”

A defiant look is shot his way, but his lover relents nonetheless. “Tell me what to do then.”

He’s back to malleable now and Blitz is not letting this opportunity pass him by. “Lie back.” After the Frenchman has complied, Blitz wiggles out of the iron grip of his legs to lean down and push the hem of Rook’s shirt up with his nose, exposing his soft belly slowly and showering it in ticklish kisses. He relishes the way muscles jump under his lips, so he adds gentle fingertips to the mix, feels out the squishy flesh and runs them over Rook’s sides, continuously climbing higher until he has to pause so his lover can take off his shirt and display his body. And what a body it is. Blitz takes his time to admire its entirety, eyes wandering over light skin, taking note of birthmarks, the broad chest and the darker trail of hairs disappearing into Rook’s waistband.

It’s an open secret Rook loves to eat. By now, no one dares stand between him and food and everyone has long learnt to bribe him with meals whenever they want to curry favour instead of simply buttering him up with flattery, and most people on base have been milking this information for what it’s worth. Blitz is acquainted with a few operators who, in order to develop the required physical prowess for the job, quit sugar and fast food cold turkey, whereas Rook populates the opposite end of the spectrum – quantity is his bread and butter, and where others might discover something as not their cup of tea, Rook gladly acts as a sort of waste disposal, devouring questionable, semi-inedible goods easy as pie. Even so, he manages to stay in shape and effortlessly keep up with his colleagues in physical training, earning him quite a few angry demands to spill the beans on how he’s faster than nearly everyone on base despite shoving several croissants into his mouth each morning.

Fact is, he’s just as capable as anyone in Hereford, he’s just a little softer around the edges. And if Blitz is honest, he loves it. Rook might still be vain (and the sheer amount of beauty products amassing in Blitz’ bathroom are evidence enough) but he doesn’t limit himself, he allows himself to enjoy the good things in life while taking care of himself, and if not looking like a flexing, male supermodel is the price he has to pay, it’s a small one. He’s still beautiful.

This is at the forefront of Blitz’ mind as he traces a rib with his tongue: he’s so incredibly beautiful.

And it’s as if Rook could read his mind because he relaxes under his caresses, preens under his gaze and wordlessly, unselfconsciously brags about his body – he knows how positively scorching he is, just like he knows of Blitz’ fierce attraction. It’s a mix of everything: Rook’s alluring confidence, his refreshingly normal body type (because Rainbow is certainly not representational in that regard), and the vicious fondness overcoming him whenever he watches Rook casually steal a piece of candy from someone or be handed leftovers, only to demolish them just as uncommented. Together, it makes up part of a personality with which Blitz is already in love anyway, and so he’s twice as smitten whenever either he gets the chance to express his affection or Rook gets to show off.

The younger man is starting to get impatient, however, tugging at Blitz’ sleeve and shifting on the cool surface, evidently not satisfied with the attention focused solely on his torso, and though Blitz would prefer to take his time, he does agree that they don’t have forever: Bandit is only gone for so long.

“Let me do everything, alright?”, he suggests and, when it looks as if the Frenchman is about to protest once more, latches onto one of his nipples. It’s extremely effective in cutting Rook off pre-emptively, meaning Blitz makes shameless use of this fact by tonguing the hardening bud while stroking over every bit of Rook’s body he can reach. He lifts his lover’s arms over his head and presses them down slightly to indicate for them to stay there, then grabs thick thighs purely to feel the power in them, tightening the hold when muscles contract under his fingers. A quiet, needy mewl is the signal for his hands to glide higher and start unbuttoning the jeans which are very much in the way.

He takes his time and ensures Rook knows just how much Blitz missed caressing every square centimetre of his body, covers each newly uncovered naked space in kisses and leaves a few darker marks on creamy skin where it’s unlikely anyone but him will ever find them. Rook’s beginning to enjoy the affection heaped on him, stretching to allow Blitz access everywhere and shying away with quiet giggling when it gets too much. Modesty doesn’t suit him but this flirty, flattered demeanour does, and Blitz nearly laughs when he’s coyly presented Rook’s feet one after the other so he can press kisses on top and work his way up to his lover’s knees – not because it’s amusing per se, rather because of the joy bubbling up in him. Strangely enough, it feels as if he’s seducing Rook, winning him over slowly with every display of devotion like he’s a valuable prize Blitz would be lucky to acquire.

“I could do this all day”, he admits earnestly and chuckles when he’s kicked in the side in return. They are still at work and getting caught would mean endless teasing from Bandit at best and official punishment at worst, but Blitz would be lying if he claimed this didn’t add to the thrill. Additionally, he’s got his gorgeous boyfriend laid out for him like a magnificent buffet and all he has to do is dig in. And so he does.

Starting with the insides of Rook’s thighs, he licks and bites his way towards his crotch, carefully avoiding the jutting erection even as his lover impatiently shifts his hips on the desk, non-verbally conveying how much he’d like for the German to move the hell on. Blitz pays no attention to it though, pushes his tongue into Rook’s navel and makes him squeak, sucks on his hipbones, drags his nails over the underside of wide thighs. The expanse of skin at his disposal is making him light-headed just as much as the sudden realisation that he gets to go home with this witty, handsome, loving man before him.

“You smell so good”, he says, because it’s true, Rook’s scent really does things to him in the most inopportune moments, hits him out of nowhere and catapults his mind into inappropriate territory. “You smell like heaven, Julien, absolutely divine.” There’s a hint of sweat, but less of a biting odour and more like a natural, primal smell of which he just can’t get enough. Something in his voice must’ve given away how truthful his words are, judging by the blush manifesting on Rook’s cheeks. “I love you so much.”

The colour deepens yet is accompanied by a smile. “I love you too”, the Frenchman replies and relaxes again, spreading his legs in anticipation and resting one on Blitz’ shoulder, its weight more than welcome.

Blitz starts at his scrotum, tongue playing with the testicles and lips gently pulling on loose skin. While sucking both into his mouth, he can feel the dick bounce, and pressing against the hard part of it disappearing into Rook’s body right below the organ on which he’s currently focusing is enough to tease out a content hum. His light touches have created a tension making Rook’s stomach flutter at every other swipe of Blitz’ tongue, have gently dragged his eyelids shut and parted his lips, have deepened his breathing and anchored him in the present. He’s receptive, impressively so, and to not break the spell, Blitz spends several minutes on this particular body part before even considering moving on – and when he does, it’s a gradual affair.

Mouthing wetly at the shaft, he glides up one side and repeats the motion on the other, kissing the exposed head softly once he’s done. Rook seems to have accepted his pace and possibly slid into a higher plane of existence if his enraptured expression is anything to go by, therefore Blitz sees no need to overstimulate him and keeps it light and affectionate. He licks in broad strokes and only wraps his lips around the tip when the member strains towards him in several jumps, prompting a low moan and a hand in his hair. Rook has a tendency to unconsciously claw at him when he’s too turned on, leading Blitz to remove his hand and squeeze it reassuringly before putting his own to use: once again, they roam his boyfriend’s softer body, caressing every limb. He seems to be petting Rook into a catatonic state and has no intentions to stop any time soon, not when his quiet noises are this unguarded.

With time, he increases the intensity, sucks harder and bobs his head lower, speeds up just a tiny bit and switches to massaging hard muscles. Rook’s leg slips off his shoulder but he catches it before it collides with anything, and soon Rook is no more than a puddle, no more than a dozing cat lounging on the wood – Blitz can even stroke over his armpits which would usually result in violent flailing but now only serves to let Rook sink deeper into the caresses. If they were home, Blitz would gladly spend an entire evening doing nothing but this yet as it stands, he’s forced to withdraw from the hot flesh and wait until eyes have lazily blinked open again.

“What would you like me to do?”, he asks and can’t help himself, has to kiss Rook’s chest some more in between sluggish replies.

“Anything. Everything.” Rook sounds like he’s drunk and it’s wonderful.

“No. Julien, what would you like me to do?”

“Inside. I want you.”

Blitz obliges. He’s not the best at multitasking, certainly isn’t ambidextrous and therefore refrains from trying to turn gentle preparation into a full body experience, but it seems his tentative fingers probing to locate Rook’s most sensitive spots are working like magic nonetheless. Under his tender touches, Rook opens up willingly, rewarding his care with blissful moans and reverting back into his previous trance, quite obviously enjoying the digits rubbing over this special spot inside. Blitz commends himself mentally for bringing lubrication everywhere he goes (in case an emergency like this one arises) and exploits Rook’s weakspot shamelessly, gingerly fingering him while his eyes run over the bumps and valleys of the body before him.

He remembers the first time Rook undressed for him, neither hurried nor languid, an almost smug smile playing on his lips as he watched how Blitz stared at him wide-eyed, mesmerised, smitten. At that point, he wasn’t sure how to express the turmoil of emotions inside him, how to make Rook understand. Now, he knows. He knows because he’s doing it.

When he pushes inside, it feels like a gift, like Rook is vulnerable even though he’s anything but – and he accepts the older man so readily, accompanies the slow slide with a long exhale and twitching fingers and even lifts his head to throw Blitz a gaze so full of admiration his heart threatens to melt. The velvety walls surrounding him feel incredible but he tries not to get caught up in the sensation. This isn’t meant to be about him.

Blitz bottoms out and nearly whimpers at Rook biting his lower lip, expression turning pleading. Once more, powerful thighs encage him and press him impossibly closer; his hands stray and stroke them reverently again, feeling out the soft layer of skin over hard muscle, and he’s getting dizzy. He hasn’t undressed at all, neglected himself entirely for Rook’s benefit and he’s not about to stop, so he pushes aside all concerns about taking too long, about being too warm in his clothes, and starts with gentle motions.

The first moan sounds like victory, its breathy nature betraying the fact that the Frenchman is trying to stay quiet despite everyone being gone – something about doing this in Blitz’ office causes a low thrill of the forbidden, Blitz feels it as well at the base of his spine. It loosens his limbs, speeds up his movements and inspires him to find the best angle to drive Rook insane as he’s done only a handful of times before: normally, his lover tops and both of them are content with that arrangement. It also causes him to blurt out: “You look so good, my love.”

And the extremely brief pang of embarrassment over voicing his innermost thoughts this bluntly vanishes the instant genuine happiness spreads on Rook’s face, lighting it up and with it the entire room. “Do I?”, he wants to know and fluffs himself up like a vain bird during a mating dance, which is oddly appropriate despite the self-satisfied grin.

“You do.” Blitz buries himself deeper and keeps the tempo when Rook’s gloating is momentarily interrupted by a strangled groan. He seems to be onto something, and his lover’s fluttering eyelashes confirm his suspicion. He’s hitting just the right spot. “Sometimes I can’t work because I’m too busy looking at you. As you very well know.”

“Do I?”, Rook repeats, amused, and adds a pleased ah at the next thrust. His ring of muscle is pulsing and giving away how much he’s enjoying himself, even if he’s not as vocal about it as usual.

“It happens a lot. I just – I space out because I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

This is the final nail in the coffin. Rook looks utterly helpless now, overcome with emotion and stimulation simultaneously, and for a lack of a better response, all he does is pull Blitz down to kiss him. He knows how much it turns Blitz on to kiss during sex and so he eagerly swallows his moan, wraps his arms around him and holds him in place while toying with his tongue. It’s distracting to a point where Blitz almost forgets to move until Rook begins dragging him in, and so they end up rolling their hips against each other, lips sloppily gliding over lips, hands grasping and holding and clinging as they move together.

Blitz had planned to spoil Rook rotten but he can’t deny this turn of events is just as pleasurable, not when his lover’s hot body is gripping him so tightly everywhere, not when his mouth is slowly sucking his composure out of the tip of his tongue. His fingers find a nipple and cause Rook to clamp down on him, startling a noise out of him, and in no time it becomes a contest. No more gentle movements, it’s a war now, both of them trying to upstage each other in everything they do: Rook switches from lovingly making out to attacking with toe-curling kisses, making Blitz withdraw and suck on the side of his neck instead, falsely assuming that he’d be safe from Rook’s mouth like this up until his lover begins whispering all the filthy things he’s going to do to Blitz once they’re in Brussels.

Further down, it’s not much different – Rook is tensing around him and basically milking him by now, slamming their hips together and dictating the speed, leaving Blitz not much choice but to close his fist around the wet erection between them and massage it in time with his thrusts. Rook’s resolution of remaining as quiet as possible is thrown out the window the moment Blitz starts twisting his wrist on every upstroke, though he manages to silence himself by burying his teeth in Blitz’ shoulder, causing him to suck a purple bruise onto Rook’s in retaliation. Both of them are moaning now, pleasure building steadily like white noise in Blitz’ brain, drowning out most of his cognitive functions as he blindly endeavours to cause as much delight as he receives.

Rook gasps his name, hips stuttering and torn between thrusting up into Blitz’ hand and down onto his dick, and for a brief second Blitz considers pulling back to delay the inevitable under the guise of enhancing his lover’s climax, even though it’d really only be so that he can see that adorable look of betrayal on Rook’s pretty face. Instead, he tightens his grip and otherwise keeps up his motions, listens to shaky breath and feels muscles spasming, and then he props himself up on the surface to witness beauty unfold.

When his lover comes, he does so with a look of pure elation mixed with disbelief, both of which flatter him immensely. He tugs on Blitz’ clothes as his climax makes him shudder, causes his thighs to tremble and dick to throb, forces semen out of him in thick spurts coating his abdomen and it’s magnificent. This is all because of Blitz, he’s allowed to share this with Rook and he relishes the moment, imprints the view of Rook coming all over himself while spread out on his desk into his mind forever.

And it’s not until his lover tells him to come inside that he realises how freaking close he’s been to doing so.

The command sets it in motion almost immediately, sending a spike of pure want through Blitz’ entire body, the affirmation decidedly too much for him: Rook wants him. Rook is satisfied because of him. Rook wants to witness exactly what he just witnessed. And so he orgasms with a pitiful whine, mouth falling open at the sudden surge of pleasure rolling through him. He pushes all the way inside and feels himself throb, ejaculating almost forcefully deep into Rook, definitely light-headed by now. The feeling is pure ecstasy, partly because it snuck up on him and now overwhelms him with its intensity, and partly because Rook is watching him raptly like he doesn’t want to miss a second. It lasts longer than usual, has him shiver and tense painfully, but fades fast too.

Still, when he sinks down onto his sweaty boyfriend as soon as the tension drains out of him, he’s left with a thorough, warm afterglow full of affection. He plants lazy and ticklish kisses on Rook’s collarbone while they’re catching their breath, refusing to let go of each other, and only stops when a palm lightly connects with his cheek in a limp-wristed mock slap.

“I didn’t know you could do that”, Rook sighs, sounding sleepy and utterly content. It’s music to Blitz’ ears.

“Do what?” He untangles from his lover and strokes the last bit of tension out of Rook’s limbs. There’s a good chance neither of them will have a particularly restful night, not with how he can’t stop touching the smooth skin.

“Be so…” Rook, at a loss for words, makes a vague gesture and nearly smacks himself in the face in the process, resulting in a gleeful chuckle from Blitz and a deep sigh from the Frenchman. “You know what I mean. Fuck. I really want to sleep now. I’ve not been this relaxed in weeks.”

“I can give you a proper massage when we’re home.” The way Rook lights up over the suggestion is answer enough. “But first, I have to finish work. No more distractions.”

“You’re conditioning me all wrong, mon cœur. If all I gotta do is shake my ass in your general direction to prompt something like this -”

“Please don’t keep doing this. Our domestic harmony relies on it, and so does my job.” He plants a last kiss right over Rook’s heart and withdraws fully before helping Rook get up and clean. They bump into each other repeatedly in the process, beaming and exchanging casual touches until there’s barely any evidence left of what they just did, not counting the papers strewn all over the floor of course.

Once again, Blitz crowds his lover against the desk and kisses him breathless almost as a goodbye seeing as he’ll have to return to his reports soon. “When we’re in Belgium, I’ll do the same to you”, Rook promises him with a secretive smile. “You’ll feel so loved, mon cœur, it’s -”

And that’s when the door bursts open to a pizza-carrying Bandit with a hand slapped over his eyes, stumbling into the room blindly. “If you’re still at it, first of all: what the fuck? And second: just let me know and I’ll leave again and eat all of this myself”, he declares, waving the cartons around.

“It’s fine, we’re decent”, Blitz laughs, earning a derisive scoff.

“I somehow doubt that”, his teammate mutters, peeks through his fingers and then dejectedly catches sight of the mess the two lovebirds made. “Wow. Really?”

Blitz would be lying if he claimed he didn’t thoroughly enjoy the flush creeping back into Rook’s face. For being as open about anything sexual as he is, he sure is embarrassed easily by people stumbling over specifics. “It had to be done.”

“Sure. Alright. No problem.” Bandit rubs over his face. “This is gonna take forever. You owe me, I was meant to be home three hours ago.”

“Don’t worry, Julien is going to sort through them.” Rook shoots him a concerned glance. “After all, it’s only in your own best interest that we get home as soon as possible, isn’t that right, love?”

And the glare he receives in return is absolutely made worth by the sight of Rook bending over repeatedly to gather up the various sheets. Blitz sits at his desk, the very desk both of them misused mere minutes ago, head propped up, and just watches his lover happily and with an absent-minded smile which only grows whenever Rook grimaces at him.

He pictures the Frenchman still being miffed about having been roped into helping with work when they’re done, imagines winning him over another time, taking him apart with a little resistance, Rook slowly coming undone under his fingertips and forgiving him the moment he shudders to completion, and yes. He’s starting to understand why Rook enjoys being as cheeky as he is.

And he’s so caught up in his own little world that he doesn’t even hear Bandit heaving a deep sigh and murmuring to himself: “This is gonna take fucking forever.”

[jennycalendar]

unsolved mysteries

read on ao3!

well. i finally cracked & wrote that modern jackaby au i’ve been thinking about for like a year now. or at least a very small part of it. anyway.

in which abigail rook is throwing a party, and her roommates jenny and jackaby find themselves hiding from said party in the same hall closet.

It isn’t that Jenny has a problem with parties. A problem generally implies that she has some sort of lingering resentment, or maybe some past trauma that links back to parties, or something else that would at least sort of justify why she’s locking herself in the hall closet with a copy of Anne of Avonlea and the entire bowl of pretzels. She doesn’t have a problem with parties, exactly, it’s just that—there are a lot of people, in her house, and she definitely didn’t agree to this many people. Abigail was like do you want to have a party, and Jenny was like no, and Abigail gave Jenny big, wheedling eyes and said it’ll just be Charlie and my book club and a few guys from the precinct, it’s fine, and Jenny figured it would be fine because Jenny had met Charlie as well as Abigail’s book club and what was a few new people? But then extra people came along and now there are thirteen other people in the small apartment and Jenny feels like the squished atmosphere of the broom closet is about as much space as she’d be getting out in the party, though it has the advantage of being a little quieter—

“You took all the pretzels?” says Jackaby from next to her, sounding somewhat affronted for the pretzels’ sake.

Jenny shrieks, then claps a hand over her own mouth. She doesn’t want Abigail coming in and fussing. “What the fuck, Jackaby,” she says fiercely, flattening herself against the closet door to glower at him. She can’t really see him, so she doesn’t know if she pulls it off. “What are you doing in here?”

She hears the rustle of Jackaby standing up, and then he flips on the light and takes a handful of pretzels from the bowl. Jenny tries to move it out of his reach, but, well. The closet’s probably three square feet at most. Three feet in a square? Whatever. Something like that. Jenny can’t do measurement when Jackaby’s trying to steal the snacks she took for herself. “I could ask you the same thing,” says Jackaby with an annoying amount of dignity for someone who’s wearing Abigail’s pajama top.

“That’s Abigail’s pajama top,” says Jenny.

“Is it?” Jackaby looks genuinely surprised. “I just grabbed the laundry, you said it was all mine—”

“Jesus,” Jenny mutters, then, “I said it was almost all yours and you needed to wait for me to sort it because otherwise you—you steal people’s clothing—”

“You, Miss Cavanaugh, are dodging the question,” says Jackaby, and has the nerve to gently tap Jenny’s nose. Irritated, she bats his hand away. “What are you doing in this closet?”

“I asked you first,” says Jenny, only feeling slightly juvenile.

Jackaby considers this, then says, “I don’t think Abigail’s friends like me or my topics of conversation, and they kept looking at my pajama set with ridiculous expressions. I don’t come to parties to be mocked. What about you?”

Something about that makes Jenny’s chest twist in an angry-sad way. It’s true that Jackaby is a bit odd, but he’s odd in a lovable, sweet kind of way (not that she’d ever tell him this; it’d go straight to his head and he’d steal her laundry by accident next time). The concept of Abigail’s friends overlooking this just because Jackaby’s wearing an embroidered blue pajama top and earnestly eating from a plastic bag of gummy bears (he brings his own snacks to parties, even when they’re in his house) upsets Jenny beyond the telling of it. “Well,” she says, “I got—anxious.”

Jackaby’s face softens and he sits down, flipping over a nearby bucket full of cleaning supplies to make a seat for Jenny. Jenny bites her lip so she won’t tell him off for ruining the closet (she just organized it last week) and sits down on the bucket next to him, the pretzels in her lap. He takes the book. “You’ve read this,” he says. “Don’t you think it’s boring, trapping yourself in one time period with all these books you read?”

“Pride and Prejudice happens earlier than the Anne books, Jackaby,” Jenny begins patiently.

Jackaby shakes his head, looking earnestly up at her. “The past,” he says. “All the books you read are about the past. Why not look at the present or the future?”

Jackaby has a habit of asking painfully astute questions that make you feel like someone is attempting to pull off your fingernails while also offering you two nights at an expensive hotel. “Because the future won’t be what I was hoping it would,” says Jenny, “and presently, I have anxiety over a fucking party. So.”

“I’d say it’s a legitimate cause,” says Jackaby. “Lots of people you don’t know in your house, and wasn’t—what—happened, didn’t that happen with lots of people around?”

“No,” says Jenny, “it happened in this apartment when I thought I was alone.”

Jackaby takes another pretzel and starts loudly crunching on it. Jenny waits for him to continue to dissect her emotions, but instead he says, “Did you know Douglas got loose on the fire escape last week? We’re probably going to be sued for psychological damages to our next-door neighbors.”

“Jackaby,” says Jenny.

Jackaby waves a hand disambiguously. “I know,” he says, “we’re talking about you. My mind just jumps from topic to topic sometimes.”

“I know,” says Jenny, and takes the other half of the pretzel from him to eat it herself. Then, “There were lots of people around after. At the hospital. And they were all talking, but it felt like—no one saw me, just what had happened to me. I didn’t like that feeling.” She reaches out, almost takes Jackaby’s hand, then awkwardly thinks better of it, adjusting her hair instead. “Sometimes people ask those dumb party questions,” she says, “like, which superpower would you have? And someone says invisibility, and—that’s the worst curse I can think of. I get progressively scared on a daily basis that I’m just going to fade away and disappear, and I think it gets worse at parties.”

“That was my pretzel,” says Jackaby. When Jenny glares at him, he gives her a little grin. “It’s just that it’s silly,” he says. “I always see you. Always have.”

Jenny smiles a little. “I know,” she says.

Jackaby had shown up in Jenny’s life looking for a place to stay and taken a cup of tea at her kitchen table. He’d acted so comfortingly normal around her that she’d had to ask at the end of the cup—hadn’t he read the articles, or heard the stories, about the girl who was stupid enough to nearly get murdered in her own apartment? Fixing her hair, the papers had said, getting ready for a date. Jackaby had smiled a little and said that he supposed he had heard those stories, but really what was relevant was that he needed an apartment and Jenny seemed very nice. He’s been living with her for nearly five years.

“You’d think it would get better, wouldn’t you?” says Jenny absently. “It’s been so long.”

“If you went outside, it would,” says Jackaby, his voice beginning to take on the familiar cadence of a long-fought argument.

“I’m not having this conversation in my closet,” says Jenny firmly.

“You never have this conversation,” says Jackaby sulkily. “There’s a movie theater that just opened up a few blocks down—you’d like it so much, Jenny.”

“The old one that was always in the process of being renovated?” says Jenny, trying to sound casual and disinterested.

Jackaby catches her effort and smiles smugly. “That one,” he says. “Exactly that one. And it has nice seats and it’s independent, so it actually makes good popcorn. Abigail and I went a few weeks ago and saw some bad movie that made her cry.”

“Did you tell her you thought it was bad?” says Jenny, amused, then, “You and Abigail went to the movies? Was this—she only started dating Charlie last week, were you two—”

“Don’t be absurd,” says Jackaby, sounding personally affronted at the concept of him and Abigail in a romantic sense. This comforts Jenny for a reason she isn’t completely ready to admit. “And yes, I did. She said that I needed to learn how to phrase my opinions more diplomatically, and I said that that shouldn’t be a requirement when it comes to close friendship, and then she got all surprised as though she hadn’t known I considered her a close friend. I truly don’t understand that girl.”

“More accurately,” says Jenny, “she doesn’t understand you just yet.”

“I’m a mystery,” says Jackaby, sounding very self-satisfied. In Jenny’s opinion, though, there really isn’t anything mysterious about this remarkably, sweetly open man, at least not on the surface—he meets everyone’s eyes with unabashed honesty. Jenny thinks it’s more that he locks parts of himself away and covers them over as though they never were there in the first place. There isn’t anything mysterious about that; it’s just a frightened not-quite-lie that Jenny completely understands.

“Very mysterious,” she agrees. “Do you still have those gummy bears?”

“That’s a mystery,” says Jackaby. Off Jenny’s look, he reluctantly adds, “No, I don’t. I left them on the sofa when I came in here to hide.”

Jenny slides a little awkwardly off the bucket, squeezing herself in right next to Jackaby. “This is an okay closet,” she says.

“You keep it neatly organized,” Jackaby agrees, and his arm goes around Jenny’s shoulder. Her stomach does a funny little leap thing and she reaches up to play with the tassels on the ends of Abigail’s sleeve (she will not call it Jackaby’s sleeve when it’s laundry he stole).“Are you feeling all right?”

“I don’t know,” says Jenny truthfully. “I don’t think I like parties.”

“I think this is a nice party we have right here,” says Jackaby very seriously. He catches Jenny’s mouth twitching and says with a frown, “Why is that funny? Abigail says all you need to throw a good party are snacks and friends, and I have both—so.”

“So,” says Jenny, and lets her cheek rest on Jackaby’s shoulder.

[thatonehiddenbladeingibraltar]

Wrath

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for the story. Please do not copy or credit this as your own. Photos above are not mine.

Pairing: Jacob Frye x female!reader

Warning: Death

Words: 1221

Tagging: @writingsofawaywardnerd @thepandadrawer @bunnyyumyum @fortunefavoredthebrave @thatonepieceofpaper @an-order-of-fryes @rooks-and-blighters @kebeo @freedomaboveallelse @chesswatchesclouds @imakemyownblog @amarabliss @thehalodiaries

A/N: So this is the second angst fic for Jacob and I really need to stop making angst fics for my sweet English muffin holy shit.

You can feel Evie and Henry watching you every time you walk to the Assassination Wall. Simply waiting for you to slash the board in anger with your hidden blade, retribution flowing through your veins. But you don’t, instead you reign your temper in as you stare at Crawford Starrick’s face with his inner circle directly below him.

‘Starrick isn’t my main problem. It’s Evie and Henry’s.’ You say to yourself before realizing you forgot someone. ‘And Jacob’s too. However, he prefers an alternative method to his sister and her potential lover.’

Somehow, it’s like you can hear what they truly think of you despite saying nothing. It was written across their faces in a thick but clean scrawl that screamed distrustful, unpredictable, borderline rogue.

‘I’ll never win back their trust. Not after seeing what I did to that group of Blighters.’ You think while playing with your fingers. ‘All because of my damn craving to avenge my family.’

“Your thoughts could be as loud as my darling sister.” A voice remarks and you suppress the urge to give a startled reaction when you see Jacob’s smirking face right in front of yours.

“I didn’t realize you could hear thoughts, Jacob.” You reply and the audible slam of the car door fully dissipates the cloud hovering over your brain.

“It’s one of my many talents, love.” Jacob responds before kissing you lightly and a rare giggle emerges from your throat as you lean for another kiss. This time, the moment stays longer while arousal began to stir in your stomach. You pull away from Jacob’s eager grip on your waist as you look out the window where the sun had already begun to set.

“I have something to take care of tonight, Jacob. Can you wait for me until then?” You ask coyly and Jacob’s smirk returns back at full force.

“As long as you come back to me, Y/N.” He tells you and quickly presses a fleeting kiss to your cheek before exiting, leaving you by yourself while you take out a black journal from your coat pocket. You open the cover to see an entire page of names all crossed out except for one.

‘Joseph Crowley. A man as craven as his comrades.’ A voice sneers in the corner of your mind and nothing else speaks louder than the rush of adrenaline that courses through your body as you vault off the train.

You muss your hair slightly as you enter a rowdy bar in the middle of Devil’s Acre while unbuttoning a few clasps on your blouse. Almost immediately, you spot Joseph laughing along with other Blighters that you recognize from scouting out the borough of Southwark.

He catches you staring and grins wolfishly before abandoning his friends in lieu of you.

“And who are you, miss?” Joseph leers as you smile and bat your eyelashes at him.

“Sophie.” You answer slyly while you lean over to expose your chest even more. Joseph’s eyes greedily follow as you inch closer and closer to his face.

“Well then, miss Sophie, perhaps we can get to know each other in private away from everyone else here tonight.” He offers and you can smell the beer all over his body.

‘He can’t even be subtle about it, the sex-depraved man.’ You scowl to yourself but you force your smile to be brighter as you lead him out into the closed alley behind the pub. Joseph’s hands wander around your upper back as you latch your hands around a wooden rod lying around and with a quick swipe, the only thing you feel is Joseph’s body draped across your feet like an overweight cat.

A harsh slap to the face wakes Joseph up immediately while you glare at the man cowering in front of you as you adjust the cane sword in your hand.

“Please, Miss. I don’t know who you are, but I swear I’ll leave London on the next boat out. Just don’t touch a hair on my head or draw any blood. Please.” He begs and you almost lower the cane slightly before tightening your grip again.

“What makes you so sure that you aren’t giving me an empty promise? And how will I know that if you leave London, you will never return?” You hiss.

“Who sent you? Those wretched Frye twins? B-because of what us Blighters did in Lambeth?” Joseph stammers as you begin to swing the cane sword behind your head.

“No. I’m here because you killed my family all those years ago. We promised you that we wouldn’t say a word and you and your little shits murdered them anyways.  All because of Starrick.” You snarl, “Besides how will I know that you won’t crawling into another Crawford Starrick in a foreign country? You signed your life away the minute you ran into Templar arms.“ You smash the cane sword with all your might at Joseph Crowley’s neck. The beak of the eagle pommel pierced his carotid and blood splashed in every direction. You wipe off the blood from your face and weapon and lean down to close his eyes. As you straighten your back again, you whisper, "And my name is Y/N.”

You hear heavy boots make their way towards you as you hold a scotch in one hand while you sheath your cane sword in the other.

‘He knows. He knows what you did. He knows what you are.’ A voice whispers in your mind and you brush it off irritably while rubbing your temples. “Come to lecture me about subtlety, Mr. Frye?” You ask lowly with a sarcastic undertone. He doesn’t have to say anything, even the way he sighs tells you enough. “You know I won’t say anything, love.” Jacob replies and you take his hand as you grimace. “I’ll be gone by morning.” You reply as you finish your drink and Jacob forcibly removes his hand from yours.

‘So this is what heartbreak feels like.’ You lament silently. The slowly growing cracks in your heart, a certain disorientation that was violent enough to make your head spin.

“Evie and Greenie will find out.” Jacob comments. You incline your head to your shoulder as you fiddle with the straps of your hidden blade and fasten your cane sword to your back. “Let her. I’ll be long gone.” You tell him firmly. A tense silence falls between the two of you as Jacob stares straight at you, straight into your soul.

“Blighters murdered your loved ones in cold blood, I assume.” Jacob remarks as he fixes himself a drink. “I’ve seen harsher forms of retribution before than a cane.”

He takes a good portion of rum and swallows aloud before setting it down with a slam.

“Go. Leave London forever, before someone inflicts the same treatment you gave that Blighter to you.” He says in a hushed tone and you recognize that voice. The one he only reserved for people he loathed.

‘A love lost and vengeance gained. Has your addiction for ‘justice’ been appeased yet? Or will Jacob be your next victim?’ The voice asks and you ignore it in lieu of giving Jacob a brief kiss on his cheek like the one he gave you before you open the train car and leap into the cool London night.

[shop5]

So I think this is my first time writing real fanfic? I don’t know but it’s a post-Rogue One everyone lives AU where Bodhi settles into base life on Yavin and ends up adopting one of the Jedhan refugee children--because happy single dad Bodhi-- also the rest of the crew shows up to help too--

2262 words ll Rated G ll fluff it’s just fluff ll AO3 Link

Bodhi was finishing up his last shift for the day when the shuttle arrived. He’d been working with maintenance helping repair ships and retrofit collected imperial parts into the rebel fighters. He liked his job. They’d been here for nearly a month and he was finally getting used to his new surroundings and getting comfortable with how things were run. Most of the main fighting force had been recently relocated to Hoth and the base on Yavin IV was mostly being used as a way station for repairing ships, medical leave, some intelligence operations were still being run off the moon and most recently it had become a sanctuary for the small numbers of fleeing Jedhan refugees who hadn’t yet found a place to take them in. Some of the unused barracks had been converted to temporary housing and the locals were starting to warm up to their new neighbors. The Rogue One crew might have been permanently grounded but it didn’t bother Bodhi—after everything he was happy for a bit of rest--some of the others seemed restless but even they were settling in a bit.

The shuttle that had just arrived was—as far as anyone knew—the last of the refugees who would be arriving. There were only a handful and they all looked tired. They’d been traveling for weeks in a personal shuttle craft built to comfortably hold about half of the eight people who currently occupied it. A temporary registration booth had been set up on the landing platform and two lieutenants were helping the people fill out forms to give them safe passage to republic territories. Bodhi watched them while he got cleaned up from his shift. One by one the people were let through and guided across the platform to the mess and barracks. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until they came to the last two in line, after a few minutes of desperate shuffling one of the lieutenants spotted him and waved him over. Bodhi looked around to make sure the gesture was aimed at him before finally walking over.

Two older Lorrdian women stood at the table. One held several bags the other held a baby and they both looked frazzled. Almost as frazzled as the lieutenant who was trying desperately to understand what they were saying. He looked up at Bodhi. “I can���t make heads or tails of it—”

Most of the refugees had spoken basic but there was the occasion when they didn’t. Bodhi listened carefully to what they were trying to say and reassured them he understood. They were speaking Jedhan but with a heavy Lorrdian accent. He nodded and listened to their whole story before turning back to the lieutenant at the table.

“She says that, they were on one of the last crafts off the moon, um—her and her wife. She says the baby is not theirs—that there wasn’t room for her mother but her mother pleaded and they took the baby. She says she heard there was a foster program here, that they are not prepared to take care of the child and they want us to find her a good home—“ The Lorrdian woman put her hand on his arm, said something else and Bodhi nodded. She handed the baby over to Bodhi who took her gently.  “She wants to make sure you know that the baby is—to the best of their knowledge, human.”  

“Why would that matter?” said the Lieutenant absently, bringing up the forms on his datapad.

“It would matter to the empire,” Bodhi muttered. It was still strange how little the people here seemed to consider what life was like for normal people under imperial flags—they seemed to forget most people from occupied territories didn’t want anything to do with imperials and that not everyone who worked for the empire had a choice in it—he’d gotten into several fights over that fact since he’d gotten here.  

The lieutenant helped the women with the rest of the work for their visas bringing up the Jedhan version of the forms to make things run smoother. Bodhi smiled down at the baby in his arms—a cute round thing with a smattering of freckles and a soft tuft of dark hair. She smiled up at him and one of the women remarked how she hadn’t seen the baby do that the whole trip. That fact made Bodhi smile more and he lifted one of his hands to let the baby play with his fingers. It all felt like second nature and she reminded him of his little sister.

On good days, he still liked to imagine the rest of his family had managed to find a safe place somewhere.

When the forms were filled out and recorded the women were escorted away by the second lieutenant but not before handing Bodhi a small bag with a few the baby’s things—from her mother one of them had said. The bag was handmade probably from an old canvas tank cover judging by the material—after years of imperial occupation the people of Jedha had become resourceful in how they crafted things.  The bag had Amilah in Jedhan embroidered in red thread on the front. He repeated the name and the baby squirmed and clapped. Bodhi smiled.  

The Lieutenant sitting at the desk pulled up the list of fosters still available—it was a short list. “I really hope that is the last of them—we’re running out of room. How old do you reckon she is?”

Bodhi barely registered anyone talking. He looked up. “Oh, can’t be more than a year? Maybe a year and a half?”  

The lieutenant shook his head. “That won’t do all these are slated for older children.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “I wonder how full the nursery is?”

Bodhi hesitated. “I could take her.”

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow. “You?”

“Yes. I have a room I’m stationed here permanently now—”

The lieutenant brought up a new file and started typing in information. Bodhi’s heart was racing a little he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for this or why he had said he’d do it but it felt like the right thing to do.

“Are you single?” said the lieutenant.

Bodhi hesitated. “Well yes but…I know how to take care of children I had several younger siblings—I’m sure base commander Andor would vouch—“

The lieutenant held up his hand. “Relax, son. I just need to mark it down. Your reputation speaks for itself.”

“Oh—yes. Sorry.” Bodhi looked back down at the baby.

The lieutenant waved a hand. “Not something you have to be sorry for. What’s her name?”

“Amilah,” Bodhi said. He typed in the information and entered it.

“Well congratulations, Captain Rook,” he said in a tired voice. “Take her to medical, have her checked over—barring any problems they should give you some things to take care of her.”

Bodhi adjusted the bag over his shoulder and carried Amilah close to his chest as he made his way over to the med bay. He was mentally making a note of all the things he’d need to get for the baby. Some sort of carrier was definitely near the top of that list she kept squirming around to look at her new surroundings. “Shh shh, Amilah, we’re almost there,” he said quietly. She seemed to pay attention when he spoke and she reached up to tug at his beard. He chuckled.

When they got to the medbay he signed them in at the front and went to take a seat. He noticed Baze sitting outside one of the rooms and looking distracted so he walked over to him.

“Hey,” Bodhi said. “Is everything alright?”

Baze looked surprised to hear him and shook his head. “I am fine Chirrut broke his stitches open again because I am married to a child.”

“I can hear you, you know.” Bodhi heard Chirrut shout muffled through the wall.

Baze rolled his eyes. “He was showing off for some local kids and he fell—”

“I was teaching them self-defense!” Came Chirrut’s voice again.

“You are a crazy old man—and you are doing nothing but teaching those kids bad habits.”

Bodhi could hear Chirrut laughing through the wall. The baby in his arms crawled over to Baze and Baze seemed to notice her for the first time.

“Hello there little one,” Baze scooped her up and Bodhi watched them. “Who is this?” Baze glanced over at Bodhi. The baby laughed and clapped her hands again.

“Her name’s Amilah—she came with the others today, on the shuttle? I’m going to be caring for her now, I suppose.”

Baze brightened a bit. “Hello Amilah it is nice to have you join our family.” The baby reached out her hands for Bodhi and Baze passed her back. “She has certainly taken a shine to you already.”

Bodhi picked her up. “I hardly know what I’m doing.”

Baze clapped him on the shoulder. “You are a natural I’m sure she will be very happy and you have all of us to help.”

Before Bodhi could open his mouth to say anything else the nurse and a med droid were waving them over. He said a quick goodbye to Baze and went to the exam room. He’d never been fond of medical—anything, but Amilah was surprisingly calm through the ordeal. Her vitals all came back fine and after a quick booster she was given a clean bill of health and okayed to leave. The nurse directed him to the PX to pick up a care package they’d been giving out to refugee families with all the essentials you need to start off she’d said, which he gratefully accepted. He picked up a soft cloth carrier while he was there and set her gently in it so he could carry her and the box of supplies back to his room

By the time he got back he was worn out, Amilah had fallen asleep on the way there and he laid her on the bed so she could rest. His room was small but serviceable—it was still bigger than anything he’d had in his time with the empire. He had a trunk for his things, some cabinets a hot plate, running water and the bathroom was right up the hall. There was room for a second bed but he hoped by the time Amilah was old enough to need one he could find an off-campus house to live in.

He sat on the floor next to the bed and started going through the box he’d gotten from the PX. Two sets of sturdy clothes, some reusable nappies, two bottles, packets of formula, some soft food and a blanket. There were instructions on how the box could be made into a makeshift bed and he decided it would work until he could make something more substantial. In the bag the Lorrdian women had given him he found a holotape and what appeared to be her mother’s engagement ring. He carefully replaced the items and put the bag in the top cabinet for safe keeping.  After rearranging some things, he set up the baby’s bed near his own and carefully put the other things away. When that was done he sat down by the bed again watching Amilah sleep until—without realizing it, he dozed off himself.

---

Bodhi woke a few hours later with Amilah poking at his face and babbling and a knock on the door. “Just a minute!” he said, quickly pulling himself together, he picked the baby up to answer.

“Oh she’s adorable can I hold her?” Was the first thing out of Jyn’s mouth when he opened the door. They were all standing there.

He looked at Baze who shrugged. “It’s seems Chirrut can’t keep his mouth shut even when I tell him to—I’m sorry if we’ve disturbed you.”

Chirrut patted Baze’s chest lightly with the back of his hand and scoffed. “He has a baby, Baze and babies are meant to be celebrated—we’ve brought dumplings, Baze made them, they are delicious.”

“I don’t know what to say. Um,” Bodhi gestured to the baby. “This is Amilah.” Bodhi smiled and looked around he was happy to see his friends. He passed Amilah over to Jyn and she held him so Cassian could get a better look. It was still strange seeing Cassian in uniform but he wore the base commander bars well. They all stepped out into the common area to have more room. Bodhi only went back inside to retrieve some of the soft food for Amilah. When he got back everyone was already sitting on the floor playing with the baby. He stood back and watched them for a few seconds feeling very warm inside. Amilah seemed over joyed at the attention and even K-2 seemed less grumpy then he usually was.

When he came over to sit down the baby crawled right over to him. Bodhi gave her a piece of the soft fruit and she babbled happily. They spent the rest of the evening eating the good food that Baze had prepared, talking about the baby and taking turns holding her. When Bodhi finally returned to his room with her that night he was feeling much more confident about his decision to take her. He waited until she had fallen asleep again before getting into bed and finally getting some real sleep himself.