#and it was almost exactly what I expected it was cost before they actually... told me what they wanted

[taibhsearachd]

Lmao so I just had the weirdest art commission process I've ever experienced. All I did was ask them, on the platform where I encountered their art, if they did commissions. They said yes, asked for details and reference photos bc it's that kind of art. I talked to them a bit, sent them some pictures, expecting them to... like... come back to me with payment info?

But they just started working on it. By the time I realized they were doing this, they'd already started - and this is a PHYSICAL ART PIECE, SOMETHING THAT USES ACTUAL MATERIALS, SOMETHING THEY WOULD HAVE TO SHIP TO ME.

Just got photos of the final outcome, it's beautiful and reasonably priced and we're paying for it, but like... man there are some steps in between someone asking "hey do you do commissions, here's what I'd want from you" and actually making the art, namely... ANY DISCUSSION OF PAYMENT.

In the artist's defense, I get the sense their first language might not be English, and their art is good and well-priced enough I'll probably commission them again one day, but boy that commission process could've come with a little less "oh shit you're doing it already? but what do you even want as payment...?"

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private session part2 is needed!! We all know Barry can be a dick head and he actually considers adding the having sex with a stripper option to customers when y/n finds out about this she obviously mad and saying no but when rafe finds outs about this he’s obviously mad and goes to Barry pissed saying wtf is this he obviously dose not want y/n to have sex with anyone else but him

Private Session - part two

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases. When he finds out Barry has been selling you to customers, he gets jealous, insisting that you must not sleep with anyone else.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe and Barry do cocaine), bondage (reader is tied up), p in v, unprotected sex, language, SLIGHT degradation, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 4.8k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. This fic is NOT proofread, it's almost FIVE AM and I have school tomorrow, well, today I guess...UGH. I just got this request and had to write this!! Also thank you all for the support on part one?!?!?! That's INSANE, I love you guys! I wanted to get this out asap for y'all. Sorry if it's actually shit, I'm so tired and also high. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

Some time has passed since your ‘private session’ with Rafe. The first time you’d come back to work after your session with Rafe, Barry had talked to you at the beginning of your shift. Apparently, after seeing how much Rafe paid you for just one hour alone with him, Barry was inspired. He had told you that the club will now be providing a new “service” to well-paying customers. Customers now have the option to have sex with the dancers for the right price. Barry knew better than to sell his girls out for cheap, so the cost is rather high. And there’s typically only two types of men that have both the means and the money for it: the rich, old sugar daddies who probably can’t even get it up on their own and the rich, horny assholes of the island, take Rafe for example. 

When Barry had told you this, you were pissed. This was not in your job description; you’re a stripper not a hooker. You wanted to yell at him and quit. The issue is that when you got this job, you had signed a contract with Barry stating that you’d have to work there for at least a year or else you’d have to pay a fee. Knowing Barry, it’s a ridiculously large fee, ensuring that no one quit before their year was up. And it’s likely that the contract he made you sign isn’t even legal. But you're not going to try and find out, knowing that even if it’s not, that doesn’t matter to Barry. He’ll make you pay. And you don’t have that kind of money, that’s why you’re in this position in the first place.

Over the next few weeks, you’ve noticed that Rafe hasn’t been coming in as much. Not while you’re working at least. The few times he has come in, he hasn’t been alone, always coming in with a few other kooks and barely paying any attention to you. Which is definitely not normal for Rafe. You just assume that since he’s had you now, he’s lost his interest. You expected that you’d be relieved when he finally stopped watching you like prey, but now you’re not exactly sure what you feel. Does he not find you attractive anymore? Did he just lose interest after finally getting what it is that he had craved for so long? God, was it just you; did he see who you really are and run in the opposite direction? You knew that whole experience with him was too good to be true.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the door to the back room open. Quickly, you grab one of the dresses hanging in your locker and slip it over you; it’s what Barry told you to wear over your lingerie when you do at-home sessions with clients. You turn, watching as your boss and none other than Rafe Cameron stumble in through the door. Rafe goes quiet, his expression going dead as he lays eyes on you. 

“Lookin’ good”, Barry whistles. “Where you headed, princess?” He asks as he turns away from you, sitting on a chair. Barry leans back in his seat, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie full of white powder. You’ve always ignored his side business, always pretending you don’t see any of it. Which is what you do right now. Trying your hardest to ignore the fact he’s preparing a line on the small, glass coffee table, you finish up what you’re doing and close your locker a bit harshly.

“I have a client waiting.” You snap. You walk closer to where Barry is sitting and turn your back to him. “Tie me?” You ask, holding your hair up and waiting for him to tie the complex strings of your backless dress. Though he’s currently busy doing a line of cocaine. Without hesitation, Rafe steps closer, his fingers moving to tie your dress. You don’t have to see him to know he’s the one tying your dress. Your skin just immediately remembers his touch, causing chills to run down your spine at the flashbacks of that night. Rafe notices your slight shiver and smirks as he tries to figure out how the straps of your dress go. His hands linger on the skin of your lower back for longer than they need to and your breath hitches each time his skin comes into contact with your own.

When he’s done, he sits on the couch across from Barry, facing you. You turn back to them, not bothering to thank him. To be honest, you’re a bit pissed at him for starting this whole sex with customers thing. You know he didn’t intend to, but he’s the one who gave Barry the idea. 

Barry speaks up again as he wipes the excess powder from his nose. “When will you be back, I need you out on the floor.” 

I can’t do fucking everything, you think. Although your words come out much more politely. “It’s an at-home appointment so probably an hour.” You’ve had this client before, he typically finishes pretty quick. 

You hear Rafe’s loud breathing as he snorts a line which grabs your attention, making you briefly turn your head to look at him. You watch as he leans back, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply as his high takes over. Rafe slouches in his seat, spreading his legs wide, making you quickly look away. Of course he notices how you’re reacting to him, he always notices everything about you. He crosses his arm and lets out a small sigh. 

Rafe’s tone is sharp as he cuts in. “At-home?” He questions, still trying to act as though he doesn’t care about the conversation you and Barry were having. 

Barry’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight before turning to look at Rafe. “We now offer a new service: you can fuck any of ‘em bitches now.” You make a face at Barry’s words, not liking how he described you and the other girls. Usually he’d never say that in the presence of one of his “bitches”, but Rafe and Barry always brought out the worst in each other; their behavior much worse when they’re together. 

“Wait, what?!” He asks, sitting up a bit before calming himself down. He leans back against the couch, trying to seem all nonchalant. “So, they’re hookers?” He questions more calmly as he looks over to you. You recall having to tell him you weren’t a hooker the last time you saw him. You scowl, hating that he’s trying to prove you wrong and rub it in. 

“Hookers, bitches, call ‘em whatever you want. I should thank you for giving me the idea. I mean, do you have any idea how much money this is making me.” Barry boasts. “And miss pretty princess over here is our top money maker.” Barry gestures to you as you stand there, waiting for your chance to leave. “She brings in the most customers. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” You nod. Everytime Barry gets high, he doesn’t fucking shut up. Rafe just nods his head dryly, leaning down to snort another line of the white substance from the table. 

You take this as your queue to leave and you walk out through the door and back into the main part of the club. You walk through the crowd and search for your client. Leaving Rafe with a few moments to think in silence before Barry starts yapping about all the guys you’ve been fucking. Rafe is fucking furious with this new addition to the club. He had never intended for Barry to take inspiration from his actions, he just needed you. And now anyone else who wants you, can have you. How is it that you could say that you don’t go home with guys often, and turn around and go fuck a bunch of guys for a living right after? Was he just another client to you? Rafe can’t take it anymore and decides to take action. He shoots up from his seat on the couch and storms after you. 

As you’re walking, you feel a hand grip your arm and spin you around. You’re almost chest to chest with Rafe as he speaks down to you. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I have a client.” You explain, again. 

“The fuck you mean ‘a client’?” 

“You’re not the only one who’s willing to pay just to fuck me, Rafe.” You say coldly. 

He chuckles, responding sarcastically as he stares down at you with his wide, dilated eyes. “Thought you never went home with random guys?”

“I didn’t. Until you gave Barry the idea of selling me out to strangers for a quick buck.”

Rafe sighs, his grip on your arm loosening. “That’s not what I wanted. I mean c’mon, you think I want other guys fucking you?”

The implication in his words shock you, but you try not to read too much into it. Before you get the chance to respond he lets go of your arm, letting out a deep breath and shaking his head. Without question, he pulls his wallet out from his pocket, flipping it open and looking up at you. “How much is he gonna pay?” You stare at him blankly, confused in what he’s doing. He huffs out a long breath shutting his eyes for a second before bringing one hand up to snap in your face, grabbing your attention. “The guy, your��” his hand waves around in the air, gesturing outwards as he momentarily stutters. “...Client, or whatever. How much was he going to pay you?” He speaks more slowly this time, as if you’re stupid or something. 

“Depends.” You answer. The client you’re supposed to be meeting right now didn’t have an exact time planned, but you know how much he typically has the stamina for. 

He purses his lips, shifting on his feet. “Ballpark.” He demands. His gaze darted between your eyes, constantly shifting to look at both. 

Still confused, you hesitantly respond to his question, stuttering as you speak. “$800.” Immediately, he starts to count the money in his wallet, taking out the eight-hundred and then some. Rafe hands the cash out to you, but you don’t take it right away so he tucks it into the low cut neckline of your dress.

“There, now I take priority.” He takes hold of your arm again and drags you through the club and out into the parking lot. He walks you up to his truck, which you can now recognize. Rafe pulls the passenger door open for you and walks around to his side, climbing in and starting the engine. You know to get in, shutting the door behind you and buckling your seatbelt before looking over at him. Your stomach tightens as his eyes undress you. Rafe finally turns his head away, reaching over his shoulder to grab his seatbelt. Suddenly, it’s like the image registered in his brain and he whipped his head back to you, glaring at your thighs.

You noticed him staring at you, looking down into your lap. The super short dress you were wearing has ridden up, revealing the few hickeys that are spread over your inner thighs. His eyes find the others on your neck as well and he knows he wasn’t the one to leave them. You try to keep your customers from leaving hickeys and other marks in your body, but it’s like the more you tell them not to, the more they want to. It makes Rafe almost sick to his stomach when he thinks about kissing you with those marks; marks left on your skin from other men. He can’t stand it. Suddenly his mind is filled with images of you fucking other guys, he tries to shake out the thoughts but he can’t; they’re eating away at him. The two lines of cocaine from earlier not helping the situation, it only serves to intensify his anger. 

As he drives he looks over at you. He starts to rant, his voice booming inside the small tuck cabin. “Bet they can’t make you cum four fuckin’ times in an hour, can they?”  You only slightly jump when he startles you with the increasing volume of his voice. “They can’t fuckin’ touch you like I can, huh?” He glances at the road shortly, then he turns his head back to you. “Nobody makes you feel as good as I do, yeah?” He waits for a response.

You catch the hint. “Mhm…yeah.” You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

When you get to Tanneyhill, Rafe comes to an abrupt stop in his driveway. He wastes no time before getting out of the truck and rounding the front of it to get to your side. Rafe pulls the passenger seat door open, grabbing ahold of your arm again. He tugs you inside, shutting the door behind you two. 

As soon as you hear the door shut, his lips are finding yours and attacking them. In the moment, he decides that his bedroom upstairs is too far and he takes you into the kitchen. He continues to kiss you, walking you backwards until your lower hips bump into the counter; in which he grabs your waist and lifts you up to sit on the counter. One of his hands finds its way underneath your dress and between your legs. In quick movements, he tugs your lacy thong down and off of your body. Once they hit the floor, he’s pulling your legs apart; forcing them to spread wide so that you’re exposed and accessible to him. Your pussy grows wet in anticipation of what he’s going to do to you; which is something that none of the other men have been able to make you feel.

Rafe brushes a light hand over your cunt, groaning into your mouth as he discovers how wet you are for him. Not some random guy at the club, but him. He continues to kiss you, swallowing the small moans that try and escape your lips. His hands move to his belt, working on getting it off. Once it’s off, he pulls his jeans down and steps out of them; only breaking the kiss once. The next thing to go in his boxers; he slides them down and lets them pool at his ankles.

With absolutely no warning or further preparation, Rafe slams into you. You choke out a moan, tilting your head back. Rafe starts to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear just so that your cunt can squeeze around him even tighter as he jackhammers into you. “Fuuck…so tight.” He groans. “Did anyone else fuck you like this, hm? Did anyone else’s cock stretch you out like this?” He growls into your ear. His hand snakes around to the back of your head, gathering all your hair and tugging your head back so that you were looking at him. “That was a fucking question. Fucking answer.” He demands.

“I…”, you cry out as his cock repeatedly hits the extra sensitive spot deep inside you. A spot that nobody else can reach like how he does. “N-no…just you.” 

“Just me, what?” He continues, enjoying your struggle to form words as he fucks you at this pace.

“Just you can fuck me like this.” You admit. You’re not even saying it because he wants you to, but because you can honestly say that nobody’s ever fucked you like how he’s fucked you. 

“Good girl.” He praises. He runs a hand through your hair and slows his speed to a very slow, careful pace, admiring your features as your face contorts with pleasure. After about a minute, his hand finds your clit, his fingers rubbing harsh circles as his thrusts speed up to an unbearable pace again. He places a hand on your chest, pushing you down so that you’re laying with your back flat on the counter. 

The cold counter adds to the intense feeling. He pauses for a moment to pull your shiny, little dress up past your hips to keep it out of the way. When he continues, he’s drilling into you faster than before, giving you the last bit of his anger through his thrusts. Your back begins to arch off the counter, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. And just as you’re about to see stars, Rafe pulls out of you and steps back, pulling his boxers back up from his ankles.

An involuntary whine escapes your lips when his touch leaves you and you sit up on your elbows, trying to figure out why he stopped. Except he doesn’t say anything, he just lifts you up, carrying you upstairs and into his bedroom. 

When you get into his room, he sets you down just before the bed. “Shit, I almost forgot.” He mumbles. You furrow your brows and follow his gaze to his bed. On his bed sits a small gift box. You look back at him to find him staring at you. “Open it.” The demands, his tone almost displaying a small trace of excitement. 

You look back at the box, taking a few steps closer to the bed. You reach out to flip over the small tag on the box, it reads: ‘To: my favorite hooker’. Your breath hitches. He’s so frustrating with his persistence of using that word, ‘hooker’, when he knows you aren’t one. Well, you didn’t used to be one. But you have to admit, this seems almost…sweet, in a way. Sweet for Rafe anyhow. You fight back your smile as you reach both hands out, carefully lifting the lid off of the box, setting it on the bed. Inside the box lay some very beautiful, intricate lingerie; it’s clearly very expensive, judging on the fact that you can’t even pronounce the brand name. 

Rafe explains, “For what I ripped last time. I told you I’d replace it.”

“You did.” You say, getting lost in his eyes for perhaps a moment too long.

“Take it out.” He instructs and you obey, taking the delicate lingerie out of the gift box. Underneath the set, you find another gift. A vibrating wand as well as some thick ribbon. The vibrator you understand, the ribbon…not so much. You hold some of it up, turning to face him as if asking ‘what’s this for?’. Rafe understands what you’re asking and he responds vaguely. “You’ll see.” Clearly he enjoys keeping you on your toes, and you hate it. 

After changing into your new lingerie, you exit his bathroom and walk towards his bed. Quickly he has you laying on your back. He takes some ribbon from the box and straddles your waist leaning over you as he ties each of your wrists to a separate bed post. He then did the same with your feet. Now you’re all tied up for him, spread out on the bed and vulnerable. 

He leans down, hovering over you. He starts to kiss all over your body, his lips finding any open spot of skin on you. He pauses his kisses for a moment, leaning back up enough to look at you. He tells you, “Don’t wear this at the club.” Rafe leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your chest. “This is for me, yeah?” He mumbles, giving you yet another kiss. “My eyes only.” you nod in response, you agree. This is way too expensive to be wearing to the club.

“Yes, yes, only you.” You desperately plead. 

Rafe chuckles and starts to kiss down your body, He makes a momentary stop at your chest, mouthing over one of your nipples through the thin fabric, his fingers rolling your other nipple between his fingers. His actions elicit a loud moan to escape your lips as your body tenses up, struggling against the restraints. You now understand the ribbon. Last time, he had used rope to tie you up and it would painfully dig into your skin. But the ribbon was soft, not causing pain to be inflicted upon you as your body reacts to his actions. His mouth leaves your breast, moving to the other side, ensuring that it wasn’t left out. His hand also switches to pinch at your other nipple.

His mouth starts to travel down your body again as his hand reaches behind him on the bed to grab something. He mouths over your clothed cunt, making you whine and shiver underneath him; still sensitive from when he had teased you earlier on the kitchen counter. 

You hear a vibrating sound, but before your brain could register what it is, he’s using the new vibrator he bought for you, on you. He presses it firmly against your clit through the fabric of your panties. Your arms tug at the restraints in response, your legs trying, and failing to close. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed and weak. Lying here helpless as he assaults your small bundle of nerves. 

Rafe pulls your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. He pushes the vibrator directly on your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body at the sensation. “F-fuck!” You cry, your abdominal muscles contracting as your eyes squeeze shut and your toes curl. Rafe leans in, using his tongue to lap up the juices that drip from your slick entrance as he keeps the vibrator steady on your most sensitive part. “Rafe!” You scream his name out as you cum, finally seeing the stars you were denied earlier, the build-up making it that much more intense. 

He pulls the vibrator away, only using his tongue to work you down from your high. When your body starts to relax more, he stops and moves back up your body. He sets the vibrator aside and kisses at your neck, leaving new marks of his own; darker and larger than the others. 

You’re still in shock at Rafe’s decision to use a toy on you. You definitely weren’t mad about it, that’s for sure. It’s just that typical guys won’t want to use a vibrator on you because they want to prove they’re better all by themselves. Rafe’s definitely good at sex, that’s just a given fact. But the confidence he has to use a vibrator on you, mixed with his skill…he’s fucking incomparable. 

Rafe unties your wrists, letting your arms fall and relax. Next he moves to untie the ribbon that ties your feet to the bed. Once you’re completely free, he gives you a moment, knowing how tiring that was for your body. He knows you need to recover if he wants to get more orgasms from you tonight. 

Though you appreciate his generosity, you want to help him out too. So you take him by surprise by placing your hand over his hard cock through his boxers. Except he still manages to be the one surprising you when he speaks. “Fuck…that feels…s’so good baby.” He groans, but moves your hand off his dick. “But let me take care of you, yeah? I know Barry’s got you workin’ a lot, hm? Heard you’ve got the most customers, is that right?” He asks, his hands starting to squeeze and massage at you calves 

“Mhm…” you agree, closing your eyes in relaxation. 

Rafe’s hands move to massage your feet, knowing the tall heels you’re always wearing have to be causing you some discomfort. And he knows he assumed correctly when you let out a deep sigh at his touch. “Nobody ever takes care of you, hm? Always just taking what they want and giving you nothing?” He leans in closer to your ear and whispers, “I like taking care of you.” Rafe starts to nip softly at your ear, making you moan softly. 

After a while, his hands leave your feet, moving back up your body. He gently pulls off the lingerie, setting it on the bed beside you two. He takes a moment to revel in the sight of you, taking in what he is lucky enough to have in front of him. One of his hands finds its way to your slimy folds, gently running over your entrance. He gathers some of your slick and brings it up to your clit as he begins to rub it in steady, slow circles.

Finally, he pulls his boxers off. He uses his other hand to hold himself at the base, gently stroking himself a few times as he looks down at you underneath him. Without much more preparation, he pushes himself inside of you. This time, he moves slowly. His mind isn;t clouded from the effects of cocaine and anger anymore, instead he just wants to help you feel good. He wants to take him time, even though you’re likely not going to last long after your previous orgasm. 

“Shit, so fuckin’ wet f’me. You’re always so wet for me, hm? Such a good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He groans, his mouth right next to your ear so you can clearly hear all his praises. “M’gonna have to talk to Barry for you. Can’t have you fuckin’ those other guys anymore. This pussy’s for me; it’s mine.” His speed gets faster, his pace more erratic as you get closer, your cunt squeezing around him tighter; ultimately bringing him closer to finishing as well. “Hm? You hear me?”

“Mhm…” you nod eagerly, getting so close to cumming that you can barely form a complete thought. “Y-yes Rafe. Yours, fuck! Yours.”

He gathers all your hair, tugging on it so that your neck cocks back, giving him full access to mark it up. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck; sucking and biting at your skin. “Only a slut for me, right? Nobody else, not anymore.”

“Yes…sure, fuck, okay yeah!” You scream. The recognizable feeling of your stomach tightening just for the band to snap, making your back arch off the bed, pushing your body against his as you reach another orgasm. “Ohh…nngghh…f-fucking shit!” You curse, your hand clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off. Rafe understands what you need and does it for you.

It’s not long before he gets to his peak with the way you keep squeezing him; so wet that he just slips right in and out. But before he cums, he asks you a final question. “Can I?”,is all he says but it’s enough for you to know what it is that he’s asking. He’s already done it before, so you don’t see the problem, especially not right now. You don’t even have it in you to say no even if it was what you wanted,

“Mhm…please. Please cum inside me, Rafe. I-I need it.” You admit.

Without wasting another second, Rafe’s movements slow down as he releases his load in you; painting your walls white with his cum. You could feel his warm seed spilling out of you, mixing with your sticky juices. When he pulls out, you feel empty. Your lonely cunt left clenching around nothing. 

Rafe lies down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. You never had taken Rafe for much of a cuddler, but he’s full of surprises tonight. You return the action, wrapping your arms around him and draping a leg over him. 

After you’ve both had time to recover, you still just lie there, enjoying each other's silent company. But you finally decide to break the silence between you two. “Y’know, I have to admit that it is kinda nice to be with someone who can get it up without taking pills.” You joke truthfully, referring to all the old sugar daddies that pay for your services.  

Rafe chuckles at your words. He wants to say ‘I told you so’, to prove that he knew nobody else made you feel the same as he did, but fights the urge. Instead he just laughs. “Oh, I bet.” 

“Did…did you mean what you said about talking to Barry?” You ask on a more serious note.

Rafe looks at you, admiring your soft, tired, fucked-out expression as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Oh yeah, yeah. I can talk to him if you want. He usually listens to me.”

“And if he doesn’t?” You ask.

“Then I’ll make him.” He reassures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I started this, I’m gonna fix it, okay? So don’t worry. You ain’t gotta fuck nobody you don’t wanna no more, yeah? How’s that sound?”

“Thank you.” You mumble to him, your eyes starting to get heavy and droop shut. 

“I hope that means you’ll still fuck me.” He teases, petting your soft hair as he watches you. 

You just nod, too exhausted to engage in his jokes. Rafe just smiles softly, appreciating the fact that he has you all sleepy in his bed; his arms. Of all the time he spent watching you and admiring you at the club, he never was able to imagine this moment.

He presses one final kiss to your head before closing his own eyes, pulling you in tighter. “I’ll take you back tomorrow, that alright?”

“Mhm…” You mumble under your breath, already half asleep. 

“Goodnight.” He whispers, pulling the covers over the two of you. 

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

Again, sorry if this is bad. I'm so tired and too lazy/impatient to proofread/edit. I hope this is good enough to fulfill your request!

[narcjsistx]

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 | OS

rin itoshi x fem reader ; words: 1.4k (1492)

coming from this event, first day, 18/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: falling in love with Rin Itoshi, the captain of the national team, was not in your plans, it never had been. you hadn't done it, or at least you had hidden it well, when you were a child, but doing it now that he was about to get married? damn

You didn't know whether to feel like a slut. Or maybe a whore. Why not a bitch?

Were you? Weren't you?

Fuck Rin Itoshi and all of himself

The dress you were wearing was damn tight, and you didn't even like the color: that pastel yellow looked like the same color as kindergarten kids' smocks. You didn't know why the bride had chosen such a shitty color for her wedding, but you didn't really care that much. You were more interested in the sight of Rin, perplexed, sitting on his chair in his dressing room. It was supposed to be the happiest day of his life, yet why did he seem so out of step with everything?

“Tie too tight?” you joke, walking over to him. He looks up from the floor, staring at you standing in front of him “If only that were the only problem” he says annoyed, and you take his hand, tugging lightly as you massage his knuckles “Don’t be so ruthless. It’s your wedding day" you say tilting your head, giving him a reassuring smile, which however doesn't match so much with what you really think. If it were up to you, Rin might have even done without knowing that girl, all those years ago. You didn't even know how your best friend actually survived all those years with that rude but well bred girl. The biggest mystery was why he had agreed to marry her

Oh, well. You actually knew that, but admitting it out loud would have been like admitting you were stupid, and damn, you were. You knew very well that this wedding was being celebrated only thanks to you, and that the bride had to thank you if her future groom had not abandoned her the night before the wedding

The girl's happiness had cost the damnation of your heart. And now, seeing Rin who was about to go up to the altar to wait for his girlfriend, you wondered if last night it was right to become egoist for you too for the first time in many years

“Not that I care" he says, rolling his eyes, and you chuckle slightly at his gesture “At least try to be. You don’t have to succeed, but try” you encourage him, and he almost seems to relax under the gentle touch of your hand against his

"You know I don't really love her, right?" he says, and you nod "I know" you say in a static tone "You still have time" he says, and you look down

Do you still have time to accept the offer he made you last night? You have time, yes, but do you want to accept it or not? You don't know

You don't even know how much courage you had last night not to kiss him, you think you probably broke a world record in emotional self-management. And he broke the record for finding the last minute to tell you what, according to him, is the feeling he has had for you all his life: love. But saying that the night before your wedding isn't exactly a smart move, Rin Itoshi

It's just that everything, literally everything, was slipping through your fingers, and you didn't know how to put it all back together

Rin had called you last night before dinner. You were home alone, and he said he needed to meet you because he had something to tell you; you had mistaken it for simple prewedding anxiety, and you had told him that in less than half an hour you would be waiting for him outside your house, to hear everything he wanted to tell you. He hadn't made you wait long actually, it's not like him to be late, it's a habit he's had since he was a child, but since he arrived he seemed very uncomfortable. And so, out of breath from the cold and embarrassment, he had said something to you that you would never have expected

"If you tell me you love me now, I won't show up to the wedding tomorrow"

He was serious. He was dead serious, you knew he would never joke about something like that. He said he had loved you since he was a child, since Sae had told him he could be the best in the world after him, since Rin Itoshi had understood that his best friend was not just a best friend. And you, you didn't know anything. Anything

"Don't joke like that... you're getting married tomorrow, Rin. If you really thought that, you would never have been with that girl. You wouldn't have even agreed to get married"

Rin had been with that girl for at least three years. He couldn't feel something, according to him, that strong if he had loved that girl for so long

"I never told you because you're elusive, Y/n. You're never in the same place for long, you don't like things that feel like forever. I would have only made things worse by telling you sooner, and so I searched for your gaze in her"

You didn't know if you ever loved Rin. You knew that you loved running in the park with him since you were kids, that you loved watching him laugh the few times he did, that you loved watching him play soccer and look so inhuman. Maybe you loved him too, but after his declaration, reality had made you realize that maybe you too had repressed something much bigger than yourself until now. Maybe you really loved Rin Itoshi

You could have thrown it all away, said yes to the guy in front of you. Tell him that yes, you loved him, that he could fuck off his marriage and let himself wallow in your love. But as much as you hated that girl, you had a modicum of respect for things like that. Being egoist wasn't on the to-do list this time. And if it was Rin, it would never have done it.Because he was just your best friend, or at least that's what you wanted to make out

"Go home. See you tomorrow at the wedding"

Notice the time the clock says, in less than a minute Rin should technically leave the room to go wait for his future bride at the altar. He would go up there as the only Itoshi and two Itoshi would go down there. Rin was really going to go out there and win not only the role of the best striker in the world, which he already was, but also the title of the first captain of the Japanese U-25 national team to be married to someone

"You should go" you say, letting go one of his hand, which falls lazily between his open legs. When you look up, his eyes were already looking at you, screaming with the same intensity with which they had told you they loved you yesterday

The boy stands up, looking at himself in the mirror one last time before walking toward the exit of the room. He puts his hand on the doorknob, but doesn't push it to get out

"You still have time. I don't care if you decide now, but please, think about what I told you" he says, his tone almost sounding like a plea. You had time, you could have seriously told him that yes, you wanted to leave this place with him, the destination didn't matter if he was by your side. You could have told him that the answer had always been yes, from the beginning; that no matter how elusive you were, you would keep this habit of yours in check if it was him

"See you after the wedding. Congratulations"

But no, you don't say that. You don't say that because you know that you love that boy too much to make him make such an important choice because of you, that you love that boy so much that seeing him fall at your feet and have his reputation ruined is not part of any of your most personal secrets. You don't say you love him, because that would be like killing him. Because you know, you know very well, that you wouldn't last, that you're not cut out for someone as good as him, good as your best friend. There is silence. Rin walks out the door, a sharp thud as it closes. You made the right choice, or at least you hope so. You really hope so, because it hurts

It doesn't matter if you're crying now

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[morganwrites12672]

Abandon

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: After the worst fight he's ever had with his father, Sam goes to the only person he can for comfort.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: ANGST. John is a piece of shit. Arguing. Crying. Daddy issues.

A/N: Have fun crying!

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Whenever Sam had finally gotten back from visiting her, he hadn't expected Dean and John to be waiting up for him in the small living room of the motel. He awkwardly shrugged off his jacket before tossing it over the back of the couch.

He could feel his father's eyes burning into his skin. John must be pissed off about something. It seemed like Sam couldn't do anything without upsetting the older man. His good mood vanished.

"You have something you want to tell me?" John asked, and Sam just knew. He knew exactly what John meant. There was nothing else that would have his father looking this pissed.

Sam swallowed thickly, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He looked between Dean and John. John looked pissed, his fists clenched, his jaw tight. Dean looked different. He looked almost happy, he looked satisfied. A smug smirk tugged at Dean's lips.

Dean was convinced that John was going to fix everything. He thought that his father would be able to fix this. Once all of this was over, Sam would stay. Everything would work out. If only Dean didn't put so much blind trust into his father. Maybe then he would have realized what would actually happen.

"No sir."

Sam knew that his father wouldn't be satisfied with this response. No, the older man would be pissed off. Nothing Sam said would make it right. No matter what he did his father would still probably lose his shit. This was going to be an argument from Hell.

"Don't you fucking lie to me!" John growled. He pulled something out of his pocket, a letter. Not just any letter though. The letter. Sam's acceptance letter for Stanford.

"How-" Sam didn't get to finish his sentence.

"You applied for Stanford," John said. It was a statement, not a question. The evidence was quite literally being gripped in John's hand.

Sam's nerves coiled in his gut, ready to explode. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. This argument was the very thing that Sam had wanted to avoid at all costs. He wasn't quite sure how he had planned to avoid it though. Telling John might have made it better rather than the older man figuring it out, or being told by someone else.

"I'm going," Sam blurted, standing up a little straighter. He wouldn't keep letting his father walk all over him. He would go to Stanford. After everything he had sacrificed for other people, he would do this for himself. Hunting could wait a few years.

"I just want to-" For the second time that night, John cut Sam off.

"Like hell you are! I won't let you abandon this family," John snapped as he stood. He slammed the letter down onto the table. He couldn't believe the way Sam was speaking. "Would you really do that? Would you really abandon your brother and I?"

"No. Dad listen, I am going to Stanford!" Sam shouted back at John. He wasn't abandoning Dean or his father. No, he was just trying to go to college.

"It's that damn whore," John sneered. It didn't matter that he was talking about his friends daughter, he was also talking about the girl who he thought had been a bad influence on Sam. "She's been putting all of these ideas into your head. She-"

It was Sam's turn to cut John off. Hearing his father talk about her that way made Sam's blood boil. He took a steadying breath. Just yelling at his father wouldn't do any good. He needed to be somewhat logical. Though, he struggled to think of anything decent to say after what he had heard his father call her.

Dean was watching everything go down. Now that he'd seen how this argument was going he might have a few regrets. He'd seen Sam and his father argue, a lot. It had never been this bad though. Hearing what his father had to say about her though, that made Dean regret everything. Being around her was the happiest Dean had ever seen his brother. He couldn't believe that his father would insult her like that. She wasn't a bad influence on Sam, not in the slightest.

"Don't call her that," Sam said through a clenched jaw. "She has done nothing wrong! It was my idea to apply for Stanford. I am not abandoning this family! I'm going to college!"

"Don't you fucking come back! If you aren't going to do the job, and be apart of this family, don't you ever come back," John snarled.

Sam's expression changed in an instant. He felt his chest tighten, panic spreading throughout his body. He knew by looking at johns face that his father wasn't kidding.

Sam grabbed his jacket, the letter from Stanford, and his laptop case before walking out the door. He had a lump in his throat as he walked down the row of motel room doors. Looking around the parking lot, he was thankful that it was empty.

"Sammy! Wait!" Dean yelled, running out of the motel room door after his younger brother. He was panicking at this point. Things weren't supposed to end like this. He couldn't believe that Sam would leave like this.

"Don't call me that," Sam snapped at his brother, not bothering to turn around. "Leave me the hell alone Dean."

The older Winchester brother stopped in his tracks. He had fucked up, everything had went wrong. It was too late now. Sam had clearly made up his mind. There was nothing Dean would be able to do to stop his brother.

Sam walked. And he just kept walking. His jacket protected him from the ice cold gushes of wind blowing. He walked towards the only place he had left to go; her house. She was his escape. He needed her, right now especially.

The disgusting words that John had spoke of her made Sam's blood boil. He walked faster. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, hiding them away from the brisk cold.

She was the best part of his day. Hearing his father call her that, and the way the older man talked about her made him sick. She deserved so much better. She didn't do anything wrong. No, the opposite. She made everything better.

The thought of her smile was only able to hinder the tears building up for so long. Sam only walked faster. His long, gangly legs could only carry him so fast though.

The walk to her house didn't take long. Sam practically ran. His eyes had long ago welled up with tears, he sniffled as he finally spotted her house. He walked up to the front porch and hesitated. It was late. What if her parents answered instead of her?

He didn't knock on the door. Instead, he sent her a quick text asking if she could open the front door for him. He prayed to anything out there that might listen to him that she was still awake. He wouldn't risk her parents coming to the door, even if he knew that they wouldn't be upset.

His tear stained cheeks glimmered in the moonlight. He wiped at his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket, trying to hide some of the tears from view. However, he knew that the second she opened the door that she would know. It would be impossible for her not too.

She could take one look at Sam and read him like a god-damn book. It was nice to be understood like that. Dean and his father had never actually listened to him about anything. He felt like an outsider. He don't feel anywhere near like that around her.

His train of thought was interrupted as he heard the click of a deadbolt sliding open. The front door creaked open. Standing in the doorway, there she was. Her pajama pants hung low on her hips, exposing a small section of her waist before her tank top covered the rest of her skin up. She looked tired as hell, yet she still gave Sam a gentle smile.

She stepped aside wordlessly, letting Sam into the house. Her eye brows drew together in concern as she noticed his tear stained cheeks. As Sam stepped inside, she quickly (and quietly) shut the door. The dead bolt snapped into place.

As she turned around she noticed that Sam had already began walking to her bedroom. Her house was more like a home to Sam than any other place. He did spend a lot of time here. Not that her parents minded.

Her parents loved Sam. They had always welcomed him in with open arms. And, they ignored all of the times they caught Sam sleeping over. They just appreciated that their daughter was spending time with someone her age. Having such a an odd lifestyle made it difficult to maintain friendships.

Whenever she walked into her bedroom, Sam was already sitting on her bed. His head was titled downwards, his eyes seemed to be locked on her rug. She noticed that he had discarded his shoes and jacket already. His jacket hung on the back of her desk chair, and his shoes sat in the corner of her room.

She sat next to Sam and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He shuddered beneath her touch. More tears burned at his eyes and he fought to keep the emotion out of his voice as he spoke

"H-he found out," Sam whispered in a fragile voice. With anyone else he would have cringed at how vulnerable he sounded. He sniffled again, trying to prevent the tears from pouring down his cheeks again.

Her heart dropped. She was suddenly wide awake. That was the worst possible thing that could happen. She still remembered how excited Sam had been to show her his acceptance letter. All of that excitement had been ruined by John.

"Oh my God. . . Sam-"

"I'm still going to S-Stanford," He looked up at her as a few tears finally escaped down his cheeks. "My dad. . . my dad told me not to come back."

She didn't hesitate before pulling him into a tight hug. It was awkward since they were both sitting down but she didn't care in the slightest. Sam broke down in her arms. Hot tears poured down his cheeks.

"It's going to be okay, you're going to be okay." Her voice was gentle, the polar opposite to how his father had spoken to him earlier.

It was moments like this that made Sam realize how lucky he was to have her. He wouldn't know what to do without her. Especially tonight. His heart has been brutally ripped apart by his father, now she would work on helping him pick up the pieces.

They were always there for each other. It was something that could be so very simple that most people didn't notice it. The way that Sam would subconsciously reach for her anytime things went South, the way she always seemed to find her way into Sam's arm after a case or fight with her parents, the way she always made sure Sam had somewhere to go.

And yet, the two had stuck with the title of best friends. Neither one of them wanted to change it much, not yet anyway. There might have been occasional thoughts that definitely weren't the kind you thought about friends though.

Her warm touch brought Sam back to the present moment. It reminded him that things didn't have to be so bad. He might have lost his father, and maybe even Dean too, but he still had her.

"You can stay here until you leave for Stanford."

Sam' head jerked up. That was months away. He had planned to- he actually didn't know what he had planned to do. He would have figured something out though. No matter how hard it was.

Sam cleared his throat, "No, I can't ask your parents to do that."

"Too bad," She retorted. "You live with us until you leave for Stanford." Her voice was firm and left no room for argument.

Her parents would understand. They always did. Even if her father and John were friends, she knew that her mother would be able to persuade her father into letting Sam stay with them. Her mother was good at doing that. Nobody could say no to that woman.

"Thank you," Sam whispered. He then rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tear streaks. It would never make sense to Sam. He couldn't believe that she cared about him this much. He was a black sheep with his family. He was the one who caused problems and didn't belong. He didn't feel that way here. He felt just as much apart of the family as she actually was.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. She kept her arms wrapped around Sam. He felt like her arms were the only thing holding him together. His own father had just kicked him out! Sam couldn't believe that Dean had shown the letter. It hurt.

None of that mattered right now. He couldn't go back in time to fix things. He had to live with everything that had just happened. He had to figure it out.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. He could get through anything with her by his side.

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A/N: The biggest thanks to @tranquilitybasegrunge and @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for beta reading parts of this for me!

Tag List: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @aidansloth @jaredpadonlyyyy @zeppette @moonl1ghtsworld @tranquilitybasegrunge

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[nikethestatue]

Not Another Hallmark Christmas Story

@sirenarts

My dear Siren, happy Solstice, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! I am your Secret Santa!

Please enjoy this dark Christmas story.

Summary:

Azriel Singer is my boss. My harsh, unpleasant, demanding boss. A boss that I want to avoid at all costs, but it's proving harder than I imagined. He's infiltrated almost all aspects of my life and there is no escaping him. Now, it's Christmas, and what I did not expect was having him in my house, uninvited and unwanted. But Azriel Singer doesn't care. He takes what he wants. And I fear that perhaps, he wants me?

A dark Christmas story where the hero is more of an anti-hero and consent is dubious.

*this fic is inspired by 'If I Can't Have You' by deathsdoll

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Chapter One

There she was.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

Exquisite.

Soft and full, and just the right height.

She was everything I was looking for and if I couldn’t have her, I didn’t want anything else. 

My fingers itched to touch her. 

I wanted to bring her home with me immediately and adorn her in all the finery that I had prepared for her. 

I’ve been waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the opportunity to snatch her. Waiting to make her a part of my home, eager to have her greet me every time I stepped over the threshold and to be the first thing that I saw in the morning. She’d scent my apartment with her delicate aroma and would sparkle with a million lights.

I rubbed my hands excitedly.

This one was mine!

All About Last Christmas 

The blustery wind of Chicago winter was unforgiving today. It was only 4:53 pm but it was already pitch dark outside and soft snowflakes swirled lazily in the glare of streetlights. I had all but clawed my way out of the office this early–was it early? –requesting a 4:30 pm leave weeks in advance. 

My dreadful manager, Azriel Sebastian Singer, pursed his lips, like he was sucking on a lemon, when I encountered him in the hallway on my way out of the office. 

“Leaving early, Elain, is not how you get ahead,” he told me then.

“Sorry, Azriel,” was all I said. Why did I say that I was sorry? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t do anything improper or incorrect, but somehow, under his scrutiny, I always felt the need to apologise. For what? I didn’t know.

“Have a good day then,” he tossed dismissively.

Day. Not night. Because unless I left before 7 pm, it was ‘day’ to him. And therefore, I was ‘slacking’. 

“Thank you, Azriel,” was all I said. “You too.”

He strode off without further glance, his hand in his pocket, his perfect dark navy suit barely creased.

God, how I detested him. Avoidance has been my preferred and best option when it came to interacting with Mr. Singer, but as he was my direct supervisor, that often proved challenging. However, this time around, I did my due diligence. I’d emailed him weeks in advance–weeks, for god’s sake–only to request a reasonable leave on a Friday in early December. It was frustrating when he didn’t respond for four days and that forced me to ping him again, sending a gentle reminder. 

His response was predictably terse: If you must. 

That’s how he responded, if you must. Well, yes, I must. Problem was that it wasn’t exactly an answer. Was it a ‘yes, if you must’ or ‘I’d rather you didn’t, but if you must…’? He was impossible to read and I had no idea what his answer actually meant. The most logical assumption was that it was a ‘yes’, however, when it came to Azriel Singer, assumptions were a death trap. 

Hence, I was forced to face him, and ask the question directly. 

I really don't know why he filled me with so much anxiety. Perhaps, it was because of his superior bearing, and how he seemed to judge everything I did. Maybe it’s his look, intense and scrutinising, the eyes that seemed to be always watching. Maybe it was because he was always…excellent, at everything. No matter what, he just had It–as far as I knew, he jumped from promotion to promotion with remarkable ease, and nothing seemed impossible for him. He dressed well. He smelled delicious. He knew everything there was to know about sports, wine, whiskey, eating, cars, art, music, politics. He knew how to speak to anyone, about anything. He was never awkward, or unsure. And if he was–though I refused to believe it–he never showed it. 

But with all that excellence came arrogance, and unreasonable demands, and impossible standards. He didn’t tolerate imperfection at work. He didn’t accept sloppiness. I’d seen him send more than one associate home in the middle of the day because they weren’t wearing suits. ‘We are Night Capital Management, not Sizzler’ was his favourite expression when he berated someone for untidiness or incorrect data. And gosh, have I been on the receiving end of that critique! 

Redo, and pages marked up in red.

You are better than this

Sloppy work

Yep, that was pretty typical feedback from Azriel Singer. He never offered an explanation willingly. Never provided guidance. 

He just…waited.

He watched me and he waited.

And when my tongue wouldn’t move in my mouth, and tears pricked my eyes, and I couldn’t bear to ask him for help, he simply ordered ‘Fix this’ and left me to break my head trying to figure out what the issue was.

On Monday, I couldn’t wait any longer. ‘If you must’ wasn’t cutting it. I’d wracked my brain all weekend long trying to figure out how to avoid him, and still get the ‘early’ leave permission, but ultimately, I decided to man up and just ask directly. And still I stalled until almost 5 pm, before finally mustering enough courage to walk to his office.

He was seated behind his large desk–devoid of any personal items, of course–staring at his computer. Uncharacteristically, his suit jacket was off, and the sleeves of his pale blue shirt were rolled up almost to the elbows, exposing his thick, muscular forearms. And the scars. Of course everyone was aware of the scars, though not the story behind them, but when I glanced at his arms, I realised just how far the burn scars extended. It wasn’t just his hands. Streaks of glossy scar tissue reached almost to the elbow.

He glanced at me, and then followed my gaze and when he saw me looking at the scars he actually shifted in his chair. Didn’t say anything, but his expression hardened.

“Azriel, sorry to bother you,” I told him, because he hasn’t said a word just watching me stand there. “But, do I have your approval for Friday, the 5th. To leave a little earlier?”

“Didn’t I already give it to you?” he asked indifferently. 

“Ummm, I guess,” I responded stupidly.

“You guess?” he repeated. “Did you not get my email?”

“I did,” I stammered. “I just wanted to confirm.”

“Well, perhaps if you need verbal confirmation to emails, then you might as well not bother with them and just run back and forth asking me in person,” he suggested.

I flushed.

God, he was an asshole.

“Okay then,” what else was I supposed to say to him, other than call him names? “Thanks.”

Just as I turned to leave, he suddenly asked, “Where are you going?”

“What?” That was a weird question. “I am…back to my cube?”

“No, I mean on the 5th? Are you going somewhere?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms on his chest, effectively covering the scars, though I saw the gesture for what it was–he was uncomfortable.

“No, not really. I just have some things to do,”

“And the weekend isn’t enough time for you to do those things?” he pressed.

I didn’t know why he suddenly decided to interrogate me about this. 

“I just…” I sighed. “Just things, for Christmas,”

“You are taking time off work to do Christmas shopping?” he actually raised a brow in my direction.

“Is it so unusual?” I demanded at last, losing my patience with him. Why was this any of his business anyway?

“So you are going Christmas shopping? Alone?” he repeated. 

Alone? Why did he care if I was going alone? “Um, yes. I have things to take care of, alone.”

He hummed under his breath, sizing me up with his heavy gaze. 

“Is that so?”

His probing questions drove me crazy. What did he want?

“Are you going to tell me then that Graysen Nolan taking the same day off has nothing to do with this?”

Graysen?

This was about Graysen? I was bewildered by the mention of our co-worker. Graysen Nolan was an analyst on the team, and yes, he’d been flirtatious with me during meetings and lunches, and had even attempted to ask me out, but I wasn’t particularly interested.

There was nothing wrong with him–he was handsome, in a preppy boy sort of way. Tall, but not as tall as Azriel, fit, with a heap of brown hair on top of his head which made him look like a llama. Great teeth and blue eyes. I had nothing against Graysen, but I was too mentally exhausted and stressed out to really consider any kind of dating right now. Especially someone from my own team. 

And I guess that I was right to do so, considering the interrogation that Azriel was putting me through currently. 

“You know that interoffice romances aren’t encouraged,” Azriel reminded me sternly, watching for my reaction. 

“I know that,” I said quickly. “I am not…I am not with Gray. I am not with anyone. I am not dating,” it all came out in one sentence. IamnotwithGrayIamnotwithanyoneIamnotdating. I sounded deranged. But I wanted to make sure that Azriel didn’t think that there was any impropriety happening on his team and that I wasn’t involved with a coworker.

He sighed at last, seemingly relieved.

“Good to know. We wouldn’t want you dating. Anyone…”

“No, no,” I agreed quickly.

He sighed again and finally nodded, “Alright then, have fun.”

“Thank you, Azriel.”

He didn’t mention it for the rest of the week, but as I was leaving today, he just happened to appear in the hallway and offered his unhelpful rebuke about leaving early and my career. 

It’s not that Azriel Singer was an awful man. He wasn’t. It would be unfair to characterise him that way. In fact, to most, he was irresistible: at a towering 6”5, he was muscular and extremely fit, his expensive dark suits always bespoke and made to accentuate his excellent physique. He carried himself confidently and with natural ease, and despite being a quiet man, who never said more than necessary, I also watched just about everyone at the office gravitate towards him. He was magnetic in how he moved about, his head bobbing above the line of cubicles, his voice distinct and attractive because of its deep, gravelly quality and timbre. But it was the face that really was unforgettable. Listen, I might not like him, but I am realistic. The man is devastating. Cheekbones that could cut glass, and a jawline as sharp as a knife’s edge. Big hazel eyes, more green than brown and full lips which softened the cruel set of his mouth. 

He was the kind of man who succeeded in everything, it would seem. Men were desperate for his approval and women were desperate for his attention. 

I don’t really know when it started. I suppose a year ago, last December.

At the last Christmas party, held at the enchantingly lovely The North Pond, there was a trivia game that our Senior Managing Director Rhys Darling had organised, and insisted that everyone partake in. There were groans and moans of discontent and no one wanted to go against Azriel, until they pushed me forward and told me that ‘you are so smart, you can take him’. It’s not that I am exceptionally smart, though Azriel and our Director seem to think so, but the questions were relatively easy, and if you had a good memory, you could take Azriel on. I didn’t want to. I really didn’t. I didn’t want to be scrutinised by those hazel eyes and I didn’t want to see that tiny smirk on his lips. I would’ve rather disappeared completely. But I played along and both of us received the same scores. I think that he was surprised that we came head to head. I wasn’t surprised, but I didn't let him or anyone know that. Azriel only won because of ‘sudden death’ and he shouted the correct answer a fraction of a second before me. The question was tricky–what country that doesn’t directly border the US (aka Canada and Mexico) is closest to America? Everyone was shouting their incorrect answers, most assuming that it was Cuba. A good guess, but an incorrect one. Apparently, only Azriel and I knew the right answer–and he was just a hair faster than I. In case you were wondering, it’s Russia. Only about two miles separates Russia and the US. I know, it’s a fun fact–use it at your own holiday party next. 

My colleagues seemed surprised, but they yelled excitedly and High Fived me, like we were at a frat party and not at the North Pond. I supposed that considering the amount of money the company was plunking into this party, a little yelling was allowed. Besides, we rented out the whole restaurant.

It was then that he’d approached me, after a good fifteen minutes of humble bragging about how he is ‘just a dilettante’. I mean, who even uses ‘dilettante’? I noticed a few confused glances, and spotted a couple of people reaching for their phones to check on the meaning of the word.

In case anyone's wondering, a dilettante is a person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge. A dabbler.

“Elain, a word.”

I remember how I shuddered back then. It was involuntary. I couldn’t help it.

The dreaded expression. It haunted me. Haunts me to this day, really.

Let me explain a little about my background.

I am twenty-seven years old, born and bred in Chicago. I didn’t go away to school, but attended Northwestern, before being accepted to the Kellogg School of Business. I received my MBA and at 26 joined Night Capital Management–one of the top five investment firms in the world. The fancy description of what we do is that we provide investment, advisory and asset management solutions. The short of it is simple–we manage money. Everyone’s heard of BlackRock, Vanguard, State Street, Citadel…We are like that, only more exclusive. 

I was hired as a Senior Financial Analyst, in Asset Management specifically. Obviously investments have to do with how to invest the money, advisory is where to invest it and asset management is all about growing the existing funds. And that’s what I do–I run reports, analyse risks, look at projections and calculate the best possible financial option for my clients. Well, our clients. I am not a hedge fund manager. I am just an analyst. 

The actual manager is Azriel Singer.

When I was interviewing for the position–seven rounds, no less! –thankfully, he wasn’t in his role yet. He was still a senior manager, a step below what he currently is, which was the manager of an entire fund. For lack of a better term, Azriel Singer 'inherited’ me, and he’s been tormenting me ever since his promotion back 13 months ago.

“Elain, a word.”

And that’s how we met.

I didn’t know who he was. I was in my role only for two months, so I was still getting my bearings and learning who was who and what was what. We received an email regarding him being promoted and that it would be effective in 90 days. We then received another email, this time from him, stating that he was looking forward to meeting us and that we’d be part of his team. He’d schedule individual introductions with each one and discuss ‘deliverables’ and ‘performance expectations’. 

I raised my eyes from my screen and was faced with an enormous looming presence, which threw a shadow over my cubicle. He stood there, like some warrior of old–huge, broad-shouldered, pristine, but also wild somehow, his arms so big, they were like tree trunks. He was just so big. And I caught myself thinking that I’d never met a man more handsome than him ever in my life. It was almost obscene. 

I blinked at him. 

He just looked down, his gaze both disinterested and intense. His eyes, forest-green and brown like hazelnuts, considered me for a long time, as he assessed me wordlessly. I didn’t know what to say, or who he was, and why he was standing here. 

“Elain?” he asked at last.

“Yes?” my voice came out sounding thin and small. 

“A word,” he said impassively.

I swallowed. Suddenly, my throat felt impossibly dry. 

“Yes?”

“Better be done in my office,” he ordered curtly, and then turned around and headed down the hallway, expecting me to follow him.

I jumped up from my seat, still unsure of what he was and who he was, though I suspected that this was my new boss.

His wide, powerful back flexed with muscles beneath the dark charcoal suit that he was wearing. I could see that the suit was bespoke, and British. My younger sister Feyre is a fashion designer and I know all about various styles and cuts of suits, because menswear has very rigorous schools of design. You could never mistake a Caraceni for a Henry Poole. 

He didn’t look back to see if I was following. I suppose he just expected me to. 

The name plaque outside the door said Azriel S. Singer, Esq. 

So he was a lawyer too. Great.

By the time I reached the office, he was already inside, seated behind his bare desk, a wall of windows behind him, overlooking downtown Chicago. 

Quite the corner office he got.

“Sit,” he told me. I sat.

He folded his hands on his stomach, lacing the fingers together and I noticed the scars. Obviously I said nothing. He made me nervous. His presence was dark and overwhelming, like he swallowed the air around him.

“Elain Archeron, a Senior Analyst,” he stated the obvious. “You started in Investments, worked there for three months and then were recommended to Asset Management. That’s quite a quick promotion.”

“I wasn't promoted,” I argued quietly. 

He shot me an unamused glare, silencing me and making it known that he wasn’t pleased with my interruption.

“Nevertheless you are here now.”

I nodded just once. 

“I usually don't do this with my subordinates,” he said meaningfully, implying that I was the exception. “But I will do this for you. Ask me anything.”

“Pardon?”

“You have two minutes of my time. Ask me anything.”

I felt hot and was sweating beneath my black jumper. I had no idea what his game was and why he was bothering me, and I certainly didn't have any questions for him, but I knew that he was expecting something. Something smart. Something that he wouldn’t consider a waste of his time.

“What’s the secret to achieving success?” I asked at last. My heart was beating wildly in my chest and my palms were sweaty.

A small smirk touched his mouth, as if he was pleased with my question.

“In this company?” he said and then rubbed his chin. “Come in first and leave last.”

That seemed deceptively simple. 

“That’s all?” I repeated.

He nodded.

“They basically want to see how much pain you can take. How dedicated you are. How bad do you want it.”

Then he peered at him with his penetrating eyes and asked, “And do you want it bad, Elain?”

I looked behind him, at the stunning view behind the windows–the blue waters of Lake Michigan, the greenish ribbon of the Chicago River, the gleaming skyscrapers all around us.

“I do,” I said at last.

His handsome face changed and turned cold and unreadable.

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

“I am,” I insisted.

“Well, we’ll see if you will tell me the same thing in a few months,” he stated menacingly.

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but then he spread a stack of reports on his desk and said, 

“Let’s start with this. Because you are not going anywhere with a report like this. This is pathetic. I expect better from a Senior Analyst.”

And that’s how it began.

Three months later, we were at the North Pond, champions of the trivia game. And just like I did every day prior, I heard the cursed expression ‘Elain, a word’. 

What did he want? Again?

He already won! I lost. There was nothing else to talk about.

I was hoping that I could sneak out soon-ish and disappear and go home and get into my sweats. 

Listen, I am an ambivert. I don’t mind socialising with others, it doesn’t bother me, but I was running on empty and the trivia game took a lot out of me because of the pressure. Not only did I have to lead my team (who were useless), I needed to do that against Azriel, my terrifying boss.

And now, he was yet again, looming over me, probably here to berate me or gloat. Again, in his defense, he has always been reasonably respectful to me, and didn’t put me down publicly. When we were in our 1:1 that was a different story. He never lost his temper, was never unprofessional, was never outright mean or improper. It’s just that he had this ability to destroy everyone’s self-esteem and pride with two-three well-placed words. And it usually began with the words ‘Elain, a word’. I knew that I was about to be annihilated. That my reports would be red marked all over the place. And that I was going to get a dispassionate ‘you can do better’ comment, with him expectantly waiting for me to ask him ‘how’. I never did. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I didn’t care that this job sucked the life out of me and that I spent most of my weekends working. I didn’t want his help. I didn’t want him near me. I didn’t want to see his stupid gorgeous face and hear this stupid gravelly voice. I didn’t want any of it. 

“Good job out there,” he said suddenly.

Y’all. I just about fell over. 

What was this?

Did I just transport to the Bizarro World? Azriel Singer giving an unsolicited compliment out of his own free will?

I forgot how to speak for a moment or two. I really had no idea what to say and he expected me to say.

“Thank you?” I managed at last, desperately looking around to see if anyone was available to save me. But of course no such luck.

“Please don’t say that you were surprised,” I begged him suddenly. I am not sure where it came from, but I desperately wanted him to acknowledge that I was…good. At something. I was good at trivia, at least.

He looked at me with genuine surprise and even took a step back.

“Why would I?” he asked.

I sighed.

“Because…because…I don’t know,” I truly didn’t. I didn’t know what he actually thought. 

“Contrary to whatever you are thinking right now, or in general about me, I respect you, Elain,” he told me and his expression was sincere and kind. Something in his face softened at that moment. 

“Do you?” I confirmed.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he raised his dark brow at me. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think most of the time, if I am being honest,” I admitted.

He looked at me, and then, shockingly whispered, “You look beautiful today, Elain.”

I gasped.

Did he just actually say this to me right now or was I hallucinating?

He smirked and then offered, “let me buy you a drink! We fought valiantly and we came out on top. As expected.”

“As expected,” I whispered. 

Smiling conspiratorially, he moved closer to me and suddenly, I felt his large, warm palm on the small of my back. He never touched me before. Even when we first met, when he ambushed me at my desk, we didn’t shake hands because we were not properly introduced. I was used to him and his nearness because he often stood behind my desk or sat near me while showing me something, or when we prepared for meetings together. However, this was the very first time when he touched me and I remember feeling very warm and very secure at his side. He was so large and I knew that if anything, this is the man who’d protect me from anything. I mean, who’d even challenge him? But still, the feeling was pleasant and novel. He smelled good, his cologne clearly expensive–Armani? Tom Ford? –and I scented him like a loon, like I always did when he was near. I am not exactly sure why and what compelled me to smell him, but there was something alluring in the combination of his masculine musk and cedar.

He guided me towards the bar and out of the main dining room, his hand never leaving my back. It wasn’t just his fingertips that touched my burgundy dress–he had his whole palm planted just above the curve of my behind. It felt intimate. Possessive, in a way a boyfriend or a husband might touch his woman. But I wasn’t his. And he didn’t want me to be either.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, leaning over the bar. With one hand, he pulled a bar stool closer and then handed his card to the bartender, opening a tab. “Whatever she wants,” he jerked his chin towards me.

“You don’t have to!” I exclaimed hurriedly. “I am not much of a drinker,”

“I am,” he winked at me. “What’s your poison, Elain? Whiskey? Tequila? Vodka? Gin?”

“An Aperol Spritz?” I blurted, even though I didn’t want one. But it seemed like a safe, cheap choice. It wasn’t a winter drink. 

“She’ll have a dirty martini,” Azriel said easily, ignoring my lame order. “Gin. Two measures of Gordon’s. One measure of Gray Goose. Half a measure of Kina Lillet. Olive brine. A spritz of lemon zest and three anchovy olives.

“And I’ll have a Macallan, neat.”

“You got it,” the bartender nodded, clearly impressed by Azriel’s order. I didn’t even know half of the things he said. Also, I didn’t like anchovies, I don’t think.

“Trust me on the anchovy olives,” he said, obviously reading my mind. 

“What if I wanted the Aperol Spritz?” I insisted, not liking him taking all the control away from me.

“No one wants a spritz in December in Chicago. But if you insist…should I get you one?”

I pouted.

“No.”

He smiled at me and while we were waiting for the drinks, he unexpectedly wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off the floor, placing me on the stool. 

“Wait, wha-,” he began saying, but he just smiled at me again.

The drinks were set in front of us, and I couldn’t finish my thought. Azriel picked up his tumbler and raised it, lightly clinking it with my martini glass. 

“To the victors go the spoils!” he announced and then watched me take a sip of my martini. 

Oh god. Even now, I think of it and I can’t forget how lovely it was. Crisp  and sharp and enticing. Kind of like the man who’d ordered it.

He didn’t sit down and remained standing, still towering over me, his hazel eyes keen and penetrating.

“I want to ask you a question, Elain. And I’d like an honest answer,” he requested, taking me aback.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you like me?”

“No! What?” I scrambled for answers “I am…I don’t,”

“I asked for you to be honest,” he cut me off and then sipped his whiskey.

“It’s not true,” I argued, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable and overwhelmed. It wasn’t a fair question and he shouldn’t have asked me that. What was he expecting me to say exactly?

He didn’t wait for me to continue, but instead, said,

“Because the thing is that I like you.”

I swallowed my drink hard, stunned into silence by his admission. He didn’t seem fazed and continued,

“I think that you are brilliant. You are sharp, intelligent, highly accomplished. You are the best analyst on my team–by far. Look, I have a few reasonably good people on the team, and a few who aren't worth my time.”

“Then if you think so, why are you so harsh with me?” I asked boldly. 

His brow furrowed and he shook his head, “No. I am not.”

“I think that you are,” I insisted. “You criticize me viciously. You are mean. You berate me for every little infraction,”

“I am doing my job,” he said plainly. “Which means getting the best results and the best work out of my associates. I am not going to baby you, if that’s what you are asking. And I don’t ‘berate’ you. I correct you. There is a difference, you know. In fact, I will expect even more from you.”

“Why? How much more can I give?”

Coldly, he said, “you’ll give as much as I take, until I am satisfied.”

“And when is that going to be?”

He chuckled darkly.

“Not any time soon, Elain. Not anytime soon. In fact,”

My heart dropped.

I was vaguely aware that his palm was pressing to the small of my back again. I felt his thumb stoke the few lower knobs of my spine. 

“It’s not official yet,” he said at last. “But I wanted to tell you and give you a heads up.”

I swallowed the rest of my martini. I drank it too fast. It was going to my head. I was feeling hot and mellow. 

Azriel snapped his finger and said to the bartender ‘another one for her’. 

“Nooo,” I protested. “I am buzzed…”

“I know,” he said calmly.

“What do you want from me?” I whined, emboldened by the alcohol that I had consumed.

“You know that I am officially moving into my role on January 1st,” he stated.

I nodded. I hoped that he wouldn’t be my manager anymore.

I hated hearing ‘Elain, a word’. I hated the red Montblanc pen that he used on my reports and calculations. I hated his critiques. I didn’t want to hear him tell me how I messed up and where I went wrong. I wanted a nice boss, who’d be kind and supportive of me.

“And I have the opportunity to build my own team. And I want you, Elain.”

I got another drink handed to me. He was staring at me, his hand now on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. My shoulder was bare and his hand was hot and dry. The silvery scar tissue on his palm felt smooth and if he had calluses, I couldn’t feel them. His fingers were long and strong. His hand was very heavy. 

My heart dropped.

He wanted me.

“On my team,” he added. “Under me. My...tutelage.”

I looked up at him. There was something like triumph blazing in his eyes. 

His hand tightened on my shoulder. 

And I knew then that I wouldn’t be escaping any time soon.

All About This Christmas

I approached her, huddling into my scarf, wanting to do this quickly and get back in my car.

Typically, I took the Blue Line downtown where the office was located, but today, I drove, spent $56 on parking, which made me sick to my stomach, but it was worth it.

She was so fluffy.

I smiled to myself.

Perfect size.

I hurried over to the seller and pointed, 

“I want this,”

“One,” to my horror, utmost, undiluted horror, Azriel Singer’s voice sounded behind me.

I had to be hallucinating. This was PTSD, right? I was hearing his voice everywhere! Right? After a year of working with him, and him being the dominant man in my life, whom I saw more than I saw anyone, including my sisters, I was just hearing his voice in my head. 

I couldn’t…I couldn’t turn around. It was impossible. I was definitely hearing things.

Maybe, maybe it was Cassian?!?

A little glimmer of hope lit up in my chest. Yes, it had to be Cassian. Obviously. How didn’t I guess that? Azriel would never leave work early and wouldn’t be here, buying a Christmas tree.

Cassian Wilbur Singer, Esq. was Azriel’s younger brother. 

After Azriel casually handed me my indefinite sentence that promised that I would remain under his control and on his team for the foreseeable future, I had to grin and bear it. Short of quitting the company, which is something I was absolutely unwilling to do, I resigned myself to serve at Azriel’s feet for lack of a better term. 

I’d learned a few things about my new boss fairly quickly. He was incredibly patient–surprising, I know, but also ruthless. But mostly, he was just demanding. 

Elain, redo the projections for the 4th quarter

Elain, did you consider the new data? I sent it to you yesterday 

Elain, you are using too much finance jargon in this report

Elain, walk me through your analysis

Elain, send me the numbers before 10 am

Elain, let’s walk through this together before the meeting

Elain, what are you doing for lunch? Let me know if you have time to discuss?

And on and on and on.

My sister Feyre said that I was ‘the victim of my own success’ and that I’ve made myself ‘indispensable to him’ and that he grew to rely on me too much.

My other sister Nesta was harsher in her assessment and said that ‘he uses you like a crutch’ and ‘he knows you are a pushover, so he is taking advantage of your inability to say ‘no’ to him’. 

I didn’t really want to say ‘no’ to him. And maybe I was a pushover, but I just felt that it was easier to let him guide the team and be responsible for the decision-making. At work, Azriel Singer was a star, and I trusted him. As hard as he was, he was also fair. And maybe, just maybe, I liked hearing his praise, or when he hummed under his nose and smirked to himself. I knew then that he was pleased with my work. Receiving his approval was incredibly difficult, and when it came, I was going to take advantage of it and enjoy every morsel of his good will. 

What did not create any good will with him was when he caught me a couple of times asking my team members for assistance, or an explanation. Especially if it related to something that he sent back or corrected on my report. 

I wasn’t sure why, but for whatever reason that set him off. He wouldn’t say anything. He never confronted me, and if I hadn’t learned how to read him, I might have missed it entirely. But I did pick up on a few scoffs, the subtle changes in his expression, the annoyance that he tried to hide. What was an even better indicator of his displeasure, was how rough he became afterwards, and how harsh his critique and his demands were towards me. I knew that he wanted me to ask him for directions, and I knew that he liked to make decisions for me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it most of the time. Firstly, I liked figuring things out myself, and secondly, he was intimidating as hell.

I met Cassian Singer one morning, following an early call with a client, which was held in Azriel’s office. By the time the call ended, I was tired, hungry and cranky. While Azriel did most of the talking, I needed to speak to some of the numbers and explain two parts of the report. It wasn’t difficult, but the client was asking a lot of questions, and while Azriel was helpful and guided the conversation, I was expected to deliver my part flawlessly.

“Good job, Elain,” was all he said when I got up and unplugged my laptop.

I smiled. I pressed the laptop to my chest and left his office, heading to the break room with a pep in my step.

A very tall, very handsome, very muscular man was in the break room, laughing with the other men from my team. He was broad, his shoulders spanning nearly the width of the fridge. He had the same bronze skin tone as Azriel, the same hazel eyes and the same black hair, though his was longer. And the voice was the same. It was jarring to hear–watching another man speak in Azriel’s voice. 

He looked at me, while I went to pour myself a cup of coffee. By the time I was done with the cup and tossed the creamer in the bin, when I turned around, I saw Azriel standing in the doorway, arms crossed on his wide chest. He was watching me with his typically unreadable expression. I thought that I looked good that day–I wore a dusty pink dress, a little flowy, so it didn’t hug my body too closely, and my brown suede pumps. My hair was smooth and sleek, tied in a high ponytail.

“Az, care to introduce us?” the man swaggered towards me.

Azriel pursed his lips and then simply said, “Elain Archeron, this is my brother Cassian Singer.”

“And the pleasure is all mine,” Cassian murmured and extended his huge hand to me. I hesitated for a moment, and he urged me on, saying, “come on, Ellie, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

“Cass!” Azriel snapped at him, almost angrily. I wasn’t sure why. Cassian ignored him and pumped my fist in his. 

“So, this is the brilliant Elain that I’ve heard some much about,” he added. “Nice to meet you, Elain. Finally I am putting a face to the reputation.”

I had a reputation? Also, brilliant?

“Cassian, you are being weird,” Azriel sneered, while he went to grab a bagel off the tray. Cassian argued,

“Why? Poor Ellie is stuck here with you bunch, the drollest and the dullest finance bros of all finance bros,”

I snorted a laugh at that and Azriel didn’t look amused, while the others booed and shouted.

“Come work for my department, Ellie,” Cassian offered. “We are rich and successful and we are all lawyers!”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Azriel hissed through his teeth. “What are you doing here? Don’t attempt to poach my best analyst either,”

At that, Cassian snatched my cappuccino muffin from my plate and saluted me, before swallowing the muffin top all in one bite.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whistled. “My glum brother is not fond of many people, Ellie, but he is fond of you,” he winked at me and then sauntered away, devouring the rest of the muffin.

I sighed and went to get another muffin, before rushing back to my desk. As I was walking, I overheard Azriel and Cassian whispering to each other.

“I see it now,” Cassian said to him.

Azriel didn’t respond right away, but then warned him, “Back off and don’t piss on my territory.”

Cassian laughed, “Wouldn’t dream of it. Seems like you fully staked your claim.”

I didn’t know what they were talking about, but that’s how I met Cassian.

“I’ll take this one,” he said again.

I whipped around and shouted, “Cassian, that’s mine! I saw it first!!!”

And then I was frozen in place by a pair of hazel eyes.

Azriel Singer stood right in front of me, so close that I figured that he was able to put his chin on my head if he wanted to. 

His expression was bland, but I could see the vein bulging and ticking in his temple. Slowly, he crossed his arms on his chest and glared at me from his height.

“Expecting Cassian, are you?” he asked slowly.

My cheeks flamed and I took a steadying breath.

Why was Azriel here???

It made no sense for him to be here. We were in Wicker Park, and surely he didn’t live anywhere near here. Not with his money and status. Surely he lived in River North? Lincoln Park? He was too young for the Gold Coast, but Wicker Park? There was no logical explanation for his presence here. 

“Waiting for Cassian?” he repeated, his voice cold.

“Why are you here?!” I cried out instead. 

He stepped even closer, and suddenly got in my face, all but snarling,

“I swear to god, Elain, if you are fucking my brother behind my back, I will,”

He didn’t finish his threat, because the seller stepped forward and exclaimed, “whoa, whoa, buddy! Chill!”

Then he looked at me and asked, “Miss, is he bothering you? You want me to,”

“Am I bothering you, Elain?” Azriel asked sarcastically. “Do you need to be rescued? The gentleman here is ready to spring up and fight for your honour,”

The venomous expression on his face took me aback. His vein kept bulging, though he appeared normal outwardly.

“No,” I stammered, and looked at the seller, “he is…he is okay. He is my boss…”

“Your boss?!” the man scoffed. “Maybe you should look for another job.”

Azriel shrugged, and then said calmly,

“I’ll be on my way. Let me get the tree and I’ll leave you to meet Cass.”

“No!” she snapped. “NO!”

Azriel seemed confused for a moment and looked at me quizzically.

I clarified, “it’s my tree! I found it first. You aren’t getting it.”

He huffed an incredulous snicker.

“Excuse me? I am taking the tree,” he insisted. “You can get that one,” and he waved towards a bunch of ugly trees stuck in the corner. “I am not getting another tree. Go away, Azriel,” I dared to say, tears pricking my eyes. 

I know it was absurd. I know that I was acting petulant and ridiculous. But I wanted that tree. It wasn’t fair that he could just sweep in and take it. He already demanded and took too much from me. And I wanted the tree. I wasn’t going to let him have it. 

“Go away?” he repeated, eyes popping open wide.

I propped my hands on my hips and resorted to a fighting stance.

“Yes, go away. You are not my boss here.”

“I am always your boss,” he argued snappily.

“No, you aren’t! I am not working right now and I am going to buy this specific tree. You can step aside and leave me alone.”

“I am not leaving, Elain. And I am getting the tree,” he pressed. 

I was shaking my head. 

“No. You're not my boss out there and you can’t have it. I was here first!”

Before the seller could interfere again, Azriel wrapped his massive hand over my upper arm and carefully, but firmly pulled me aside. 

“Don’t sell that fucking tree to anyone,” he ordered the man, and the guy just stared, but didn’t say anything.

I’ve never heard Azriel curse before. He was always highly, scrupulously professional at work. Was it something that I unexpectedly liked? Perhaps.

Once we were out of the way, Azriel didn’t release my arm, but I felt his thumb making small circles over it through my jacket sleeve. He was very close and his crisp scent invaded my nostrils. His eyes assessed me, but they weren’t cold and disdainful right now. There was warmth in them. Amusement too. And I couldn’t think of why that was. 

“I think that we need to reevaluate your attitude, Miss Archeron,” he semi-whispered in my ear. His lips were so close, they were almost touching me.

“What?” I stuttered, not sure what he meant and feeling overwhelmed by his nearness. He was too close. Like last Christmas party. Which I preferred not to recall or think about. 

“What do you mean?” I finally managed to ask.

“It means that you will respect me always, at work and outside of work. At work, I am your boss and out here, that doesn’t change. Just like I will respect you always, regardless of your… imperfections.”

Imperfections? Screw him.

I tried to jerk my arm out of his grasp, but it was like an iron claw around my sleeve.

“Furthermore,” he continued, ignoring my movements, “please do remember that I am the one who makes all the decisions. You follow my guidance. Because I know what’s good for both of us.”

“No you don’t!” I argued instinctively.

“Oh no?” he challenged. “Who’s been helping you with everything at work? Guiding your career? Offering you advice? At times protecting you from mistakes and scrutiny? Yeah, me,” he snapped. “Not that you’d noticed!”

I blushed.

He wasn’t wrong.

He has been incredibly helpful and patient with me, even when he was harsh and demanding. 

“Not that you’d ask me for help,” he ground out under his breath.

Defensively, I argued, “I asked you many times! All the time!”

He scoffed, 

“Yeah, only when there is no one else left to ask!”

The back and forth was exhausting me.

I was tired and he still hadn’t explained what he was doing here. 

“I need to get the tree and go home,” I told him at once.

His grip on me finally eased up a bit and he said thoughtfully,

“Hmmm,”

“Not hmmm,” I taunted. “Let me go. I will see you on Monday.”

“No.”

“No?” I repeated. “What do you mean, no?”

“No means that I have something else in mind,” he offered. “And I suggest that you take me up on my generous offer to you.”

I was feeling a bit hysterical and laughed, my voice dry,

“Oh, how gracious of you. And what is this offer that I cannot refuse? Pray tell!”

“I’ll let you have that tree,” he pointed at my perfect tree. 

“Let me?”

“Stop interrupting me every sentence!” he didn’t look amused. “Yes, I will even help you hoist it up on the roof of your car. Then, we’ll go to your house, you will be a gracious hostess, we’ll have dinner and we’ll decorate the tree together.

“That’s the only offer you are getting. If you reject it, you aren’t getting the tree. Your choice.”

What the hell?

What. Is. The. Actual. Fuck??

He was inviting himself to my home? Or, more like, forcing himself, and ordering me to cook him dinner and decorate my tree, with him there?

“We can’t do that!” I cried out.

“Why?”

“Because…because…We can’t! You are my boss,”

“Glad to see you remembered, finally,” he snorted a chuckle.

“You can’t be at my home. People will talk!”

Not to mention that I didn’t want him there.

I didn’t want him inside my sanctuary. The only place that was actually free of him. My god. This was the worst idea in history!

“Take it or leave it,” he shrugged callously.

I attempted to dissuade him again, “Azriel, I cannot let you–it’s improper,”

“Is it? I was in your apartment last year,” he reminded me and my heart jumped in my chest. “And somehow, we managed.”

He tapped his feet on the pavement and said,

“Let’s go. I am freezing.”

“You said that I get to decide,” I tried feebly.

“I did. And you decided that I will be coming along and we’ll be decorating your tree together. Come on.”

He extended his hand to me.

I just stood there, trembling.

He flexed his long, powerful fingers in the space between us. His arm was a bridge. And somehow, I knew that if I took his hand, if I crossed the bridge, nothing would ever be the same. 

[always-sleeepy-headd]

Nightmare? Dream? Fuck that I choose Error

Summary:

Swap's smarter. Better. Stronger.

But they don't need to know.

Until he's fed up and bored at least.

Notes:

Inspired by https://archiveofourown.org/works/49249111 By https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReikoNatsume/pseuds/ReikoNatsume

_______

Swap wasn't like them.

Dream.

Ink.

Hell, even the Bad Sanses.

He was smarter.

Better.

That's why he walked the halls of both places without the other even batting an eye.

That's how he always does things.

He'll win no matter the cost.

Win what you may ask?

Attention, excitement, entertainment.

The multiverse is his playground, and he was gonna put it in its place.

...

Per usual, Swap was walking down the winding halls of Ink's forever changing house in the Doodle Sphere with no intent other than to ame the halls with boredom heavy in his eyes and soul. He walked for about a mile before ending up right where he began, just to see the path had changed again, he almost liked the ever changing nature of the Doodle Sphere, it calmed him in a strange sense.

"Oh! There you are Swap!" Ink giggles and runs over to him.

"Hi Ink! What's up?" Swap asks, mentally sighing at how strained he sounded. Ink didn't seem to notice of care though.

"Well, I was looking for you but you disappeared again! I don't understand how you know this place better than me, you walk around and just find the exact place you want to go!" Ink pouts, "It's absolutely no fair."

Swap laughs slightly, and then pats Ink's head a little. "I have just as much trouble, I just don't care where I'm going most of the time."

"UGHHH It's so annoying-" Ink seems to remember something and he ruffles through his scarf to find it. "Aha! I wanted to ask you how it went at Nightmare's?"

"I haven't gone yet Ink, he expects me there in..." Swap looks at the time and realizes he lost track when wandering. "Oh! Ten minutes from now, I guess it's a good thing you found me because I totally would've just kept wandering."

"Jeez, that could have been bad- Anyway are you sure you don't need help figuring out what to tell them? You always make it up on the spot and I imagine that can be scary..." Ink says, Swap had been spying for The Stars for a while now.

When Nightmare came up to ask him to spy for him in the Stars he told Ink and Dream, he quickly thought about how easy this would make everything for him.

So now he's 'spying' for both sides, Ink and Dream have no idea how he does it without getting caught and how quickly he gained Nightmare's trust is startling.

"Uhh, well I don't make it up on the spot, I have a very complicated system in my head that'll give them some information that is correct but a leave out parts of our plans that make it look like I had no idea about it and you or Dream are just acting impulsively." Swap sighs slightly, "It is a little stressful but it's really easy to lie to someone who thinks both of you are so incredibly stupid."

"Oh! Huh, I guess that makes sense. ... Actually! That's really smart! So they'll expect things to go one way while you still are trusted!"

"Yeah! Exactly, but I should get going now, Nightmare hates tardiness."

"Oh, alright! Be careful!"

Swap waved his goodbyes to Ink and climbed through a portal, Ink startles as he isn't used to Swap using portals to get around.

Sure was good that Nightmare taught him how though.

...

Swap enters the almost baren AU that the Bad Sanses reside in. It is covered in forest and at the center of it is a large castle where Nightmare's office is located, and it's where he's supposed to be three minutes from now.

Woops.

He really needs to manage his time better.

Swap begins to sprint down the the trail that leads to gigantic and terrifying castle that the Bas Sanses call home, then he realizes he could just teleport.

Woops.

I guess this is why Error calls him so many names.

catches his breath instead of spriting there and teleports outside of the office with a minute to spare, then decides it would be funny to bust in there at the very last moment, even if it costs him his life.

Right when the clock turns he shoves the door of Nightmare's office open, not realizing Cross trying not to laugh at him from around a corner.

Cross was pretty sure Nightmare was gonna kill Swap and Swap could have easily prevented it and just not stood in front of his door until the last second.

Luckily for Swap, he survived.

"... Hello Swap." Nightmare says, Killer was standing next to him with his usual pissy smile.

"You sure came in at the last moment." Killer says, his smile only growing more manic by the second.

"... I suppose." I say, as I have to be careful around someone as unpredictable as Killer.

Nightmare lets out a sigh, "Your report of what has happened with the Stars?" He says, going straight to the point.

"Something big is happening, I almost considered coming here sooner because of it." Swap says, weaving a lie so easily not even Nightmare would be able to tell. "I decided it would be okay to wait though... Nightmare, Dream plans to turn the tides of the war completely using this new AU, it was named a copy of Haventale and it's copy code is HGRJ3792. Haventale copies usually give large amounts of positivity anyway, but this copy seems to be different. It's inhabitants seem to have no emotion whatsoever, so when Dream went to scope it out his positivity gave them emotions that they have never felt before and they came to consider him a biblical God. Ink decided he wanted to milk this and turn things there way by using the inhabitants as missionaries, this will not only make the multiverse view Dream as all knowing but will completely drown out any other Gods of the multiverse, as if Dream was the main and most powerful. This would make it so much easier to spread positivity but also to make you look completely irrelevant."

Nightmare's face as Swap said this was absolutely priceless, even Killer seemed a little startled.

"... And how do you suggest we prevent this...?" Nightmare asks.

"Well, the plan has not yet been set into motion due to Dream's reluctance to use others for his own benefit, but Ink is utterly thrilled about this and I'm certain even if Dream refuses Ink will go behind his back and make it a reality. So simply you just need to eradicate the universe, these people are dangerous though, they've gotten a taste of freedom and would die for it." Swap says, Nightmare's shoulders untense slightly at the easy solution.

"Good, it seems you've thought a lot about this." Nightmare starts. "But won't Dream and especially Ink not only notice what we're doing and try to stop us, plus this will put you in a bad position?"

"Hm, well, quite simply I'll be fine, Dream and Ink suspect nothing of me. But it'll be hard to prevent them from attempting to stop you." Swap states then pauses. "I don't suppose I could make a distraction hm? It's quite easy to pull Ink's attention away from things... besides..." Swap smiles in a uncanny way that Nightmare blinks at, it slightly surprising him. "I have the perfect thing~"

"Well then," Nightmare smiles evilly, I suppose we'll need to set a date then."

...

Swap smiles as he leaves through his portal, it startles Nightmare slightly and it annoys him that Ink and Dream are just going all willy nilly and teaching everyone to use portals, it sure worked out for him in this case though.

Dream greets Swap as he gets back, and Swap realizes his still is doing the evil smile thing an laughs slightly.

"Hi Dream! I can't help but get into character when I'm over there." Swap says rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh it's fine! I'm just glad you're okay, I always get worried when you go there..." Dream says.

"Nope! Perfectly fine here! There is a BIG problem though!" Swap says, flinging his arms out to insinuate how bad it is.

"O- Oh? What is it?" Dream asks nervously.

"It's pretty bad, where's Ink?" Swap asks.

"He's over here." Dream says, grabbing Swap's arm and pulling him into the living room.

"Oh! Swap, you're back!" Ink says jumping to his feet.

"Yep! And Nightmare is planning something BIG!"

"Uh oh, what is it?" Ink asks, sitting back and down, he is quickly followed by Dream and Swap.

"Nightmare is planning a big attack on a Haventale AU copy, normally this would be mostly fine but this is a special Haventale. It's the communication hub for all Haventale's and Haventale has always been a big source of positivity right? So they plan to send a message to a bunch of Haventale copies that have contact with them and basically scare them ALL."

"What?!" Ink and Dream both say.

"I- I wasn't even aware that was a thing." Dream says.

"Me neither! But it's actually real I checked just to make sure." Swap says, he CAN'T let this plan fail, not after all his hard work.

"Well, do you know when?" Ink asks.

"Yes actually!"

...

Today was the day, Swap COULDN'T mess this up, he was counting on him.

He had gotten the message from Nightmare that they were leaving, Swap NEEDED Ink and Dream to be there NOW.

He rushed down the hall and into the living room where Ink and Dream were getting ready.

"We need to go NOW!" Swap says, and opens a portal to HGRJ3792.

Ink and Dream pile themselves into it, expecting nothing.

Perfect.

...

The Bad Sanses find themselves in an AU covered in forest.

"We just need to find where they're residing and destroy every last one, we should have a lot of time, Swap seemed very confident." Nightmare says, but Cross can't help but feel a lump him his throat, something was off.

They walked for a while until they heard feet pattering on the forest ground, someone was there.

"It smells like it's just two of them... I think we can take them..." Horror grumbles.

Nightmare was about to respond but the two forms leap out from the bushes with their weapons pointed at them.

"Nightmare! Stop this madness!" Dream yells.

Ink is standing with his Brush out next to him.

"What in the world?!" Nightmare hisses. "Is this some sort of set up?!"

"No? You were going to try to destroy this communication AU!" Ink yells.

"Communication AU?" Cross mumbles, startled.

"Yeah! You aren't going to spread negativity this way!" Ink says.

"You're trying to manipulate monsters into thinking you're their savior!" A pissed Dust yells.

"What... are you talking about...?" Dream asks lowering his weapon a little.

"What are you talking about?!" Killer yells.

"But... Swap said..." Ink mumbles.

"Boss.. do you think..?" Cross asks wide eyed.

"We've both been played..." Nightmare says in amazement, Swap had been tricking BOTH of their sides... but why?

"But- but-" Dream looks around. "Hey... where did Swap go?!"

"He tricked us both Dream, it's quite impressive.."

"NO! Swap would NEVER!" Ink says.

"Swap agreed to spy for me already behind your backs." Nightmare says.

"We knew about that! He didn't betray us, he spun the truth around to make it so he could lie to you while making it look like I was just changing plans!" Ink yells.

"Yet he's gone, and he lied, I don't feel any other lifeforms in this universe now that I've checked." Nightmare says. "You have to at least consider-" Nightmare was interrupted by a certain glitch.

"ThAt YoU'vE bEeN pLaYeD bItCh." Error laughs and everyone looks up in horror to see the God of Destruction with Swap holding on to his arm and giggling. "YoU sTuPiD fUcKs JuSt LiStEnEd ExAcTlY tO BeRrY wItHoUt EvEn BaTtInG aN EyE."

"Swap! I don't know what Error told you but it isn't true!" Ink attempts.

Swap giggles and hopped off the big branch he and Error were standing on to look cool.

"I've been working with Error this entire time silly! It's been fun messing with you though!" Swap says. "You made it SOOO easy, all I had to do is pull the innocent card and everyone just fell into my hands like putty!"

"No..." Dream whispered.

"Yep! I could control EXACTLY what you guys did and where you went! All had to do was make up some stories and have them so you guys collide while Error was busy at work!" Swap says.

"Doing what exactly...?" Cross slowly asks.

"Oh I an SO glad you asked, I distracted you so Error could easily keep the balance that you all keep destroying! It's a hard job for just one monster!" Swap can barely contain his excitement and Error's smile reflected just how much apricates Swap, even if it wasn't obvious to anyone there. "So, I guess you're wondering why we brought you here! Well, you guys have recently REALLY fucking up the balance, so you have two choices! This war ends right here and now by YOUR choice or by ours!"

"What are you talking about?!" Ink yells, his eyes darting back and forth from Error and Swap.

"Well, you dumbass's destroying things with your back and forth, so it's simple! No more trying to make more positivity and no more trying to make more negativity, also Ink, you need to stop making so many AUs and instead just let the multiverse take care of it." Swap says.

"So... you want us to have a... truce?" Cross asks.

"Exactly! I knew I liked you Cross." Swap says and Cross flushes in embarrassment, he isn't used to complement's at ALL.

"What are you going to do if we don't?" Dust asks.

"Kill you." Swap answered short and bittersweet.

Error snickers from up on his branch and jumps down.

"YoU fIlThY gLiTcHeS sHoUlD bE GlAd YoU HaVe BeRrY hErE pRoTeCtInG yOu, I wOuLd'Ve JuSt KiLlEd You." He says.

"It's your choice." Swap smiles in a controlling way, a way that you know that you better do what he says or he'll hurt you. badly.

Everyone looks around and then all come to an easy decision.

"I think we choose to live." Nightmare says, normally if it was just Swap saying this he'd laugh and laugh and laugh, but Error being in the mix meant that his words actually meant something, Error could easily kill all of them.

Dream and Ink nod.

"Good! I'm glad we could come to a decision as adults here." Swap smiles as Error wraps his arm around his waist and pulls him in for a kiss.

They loved each other and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

And that was exactly how they liked it.

[daceydeath]

Cigarettes and Cliche's (Part 2)

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader Word Count: 4.2K Genre: college au, slow burn romance Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, alcohol use, suggestive content,

He was the most impractical guy for you to be interested in the incredibly handsome cliché bad boy who collected girls like trophies. As hard as you wanted to stay away you couldn't even if it might cost you everything and leave you heartbroken you couldn't ignore him

The attraction you had to Felix had gone from thinking he was stupidly good looking but an arsehole to a he might not be a total dickhead but he was at least a very attractive dickhead but there was no way you were ever going to admit that. It was still better in your opinion to ignore him as much as possible and hopefully you wouldn't have anything other to do with each other unless it was through Seung and Innie and others were around. You had apologized to the boys who were equally sorry for not really listening to you and they promised it would never happen again and to prove the fact they decided to invite some of the guys over for pre-drinks before the next party they would be heading out to on the Saturday. You were nervous about it of course, you had never been to a collage party, or any party of that sort before and you were not much of a drinker either so you hoped they wouldn't make fun of you too much. You had picked up a day shift during the week to make sure you wouldn't be called in during the weekend not wanting to disappoint Seungmin or Jeongin when them having their friends get to know you so they would all play nice was so important to them.

The weekend came a lot faster than you were prepared for and your nerves were higher than you expected, you had made friends with Jeongin and Seungmin out of necessity you needed another place to live and they were the best option so you had been forced to make it work with them but truth be told you didn't have many friends so you were often awkward without meaning to be. You had seen Felix around more than you normally would in the last week, he had come in with Hyunjin and Lee Know once and stayed for almost your whole shift not speaking to you other than ordering and asking generic questions in his cocky way but sneaking glances at you when he thought you were busy.

"You look exactly like you always do" Jeongin laughed as you walked from your room through the lounge to the kitchen.

"Am I supposed to look different?" you chuckled looking down at yourself and then over at Jeongin "I know you are going out after but I'm not, so I'm not dressing up to hang out in my own house".

"She looks cute in sweats Innie" Seungmin called down the hallway still in his room getting ready.

"Yeah I look cute Innie!" you mimicked poking your tongue out at him before realizing what had actually been said "Hold up I look cute???" you called back to Seungmin.

"You always look cute" Innie laughed as he watched you get flustered by the comments "and you are always fun to tease". You glared at him in mock annoyance pulling snacks out of the cupboard for anyone to help themselves to before sitting at the dining table and opening your laptop to waste time.

"What are you studying now?" Seung smirked looking over at you as he walked into the lounge and flopped down on the couch.

"Nothing I was just looking up a few things that I wanted to go see before the semester starts" you mumbled ignoring the pair of them as they continued to pick and tease you as they loaded up a game to play while they waited for the guys.

The buzzer from downstairs rang which you got up to answer seeing Chan and Changbin on the screen you buzzed them up and went down the hall to let them in.

"Evening" you smiled letting them past you into the apartment.

"How's it going?" Chan grinned squeezing your shoulder as he made his way towards the kitchen shopping bag full of what you assumed to be alcohol in his other hand.

"You coming with us tonight?" Changbin waggled his eyebrows at you making you snort as he held his half drunk beer up in salute.

"I'm good and of course not I could never keep us with you boys" you rolled your eyes following them towards the lounge as they both continued to speak over each other. You watched them greet each other laughing and making jokes their drinks were abandoned on the counter between the kitchen and lounge. The buzzer went again and you found yourself looking at Hyunjin's handsome face smirking at you, you were tempted to make him stay outside but you could hear Han in the background so you relented.

"Come up" you sighed giving them access to the lobby they made there way up and you were thankful Han was with them it would hopefully make the whole thing less awkward.

"Hi again Han" you greeted as he stepped through the door first.

"Hey! are the two idiots here?" He grinned stepping aside to let the others pass so you could shut the door.

"You are going to have to be far more specific Han" you replied sarcastically making him laugh loudly and you smile.

"Hi Choi" Felix smirk from behind you as soon as Hyunjin opened his mouth to speak.

"Felix" you nodded politely albeit slightly awkwardly.

"Are you not coming out with us tonight?" he continued keeping Hyunjin and Lee Know from saying anything to you.

"Have you ever seen me at a party?" you ask rhetorically stepping into the lounge room which got a little quiet as Seung and Innie watched you interact with Felix.

"She hates parties" Seung shrugged handing you a cup he had already filled with something you couldn't identify.

"I don't hate them I just don't enjoy them. At all" you defended still looking at whatever was in your cup "and what is this Seung?"

"Vodka lemonade" He smiled and you sipped it tentatively looking at him with suspicion.

"So you met Hyunjin but this is Minho" Jeongin smiled looking towards the others.

"Hello again Hyunjin, Hello Minho" you waved, sipping your drink again and scrunching your nose a little bit.

"Hello" Hyunjn purred smiling sexily at you "You really have been keeping secrets haven't you?" he looked at Seungmin and Jeongin.

"Don't even think about it" Innie huffed raising his eyebrow and making Hyunjin laugh at his instant defense of you.

"There is barely any alcohol in that you know" Seung sighed playfully ignoring Hyunjin's comment entirely and taking your drink to pour you just lemonade, you shrugged not noticing how the others were looking at you.

"I know, I just don't really drink, I don't like it" you smiled as he traded the cup for you.

"You have no life" whined Innie playfully.

"I know I'm so boring people must think I'm this helpless little virgin that can't have any fun" you teased watching both his and Seung's faces flush a brilliant pink and Chan and Changbin begin laughing "For the record the walls are thin here I will hear you talking shit about me".

"I said I was sorry about that" Innie groaned as you made your way past Hyunjin and Minho who smirked at each other before Hyunjin brushed his hand across your back as you moved making you flinch slightly and Felix glare. You were distracted as the buzzer went again and you pressed the button to see who was there surprised to see Nali appear on the screen.

"Hi I'm here to see Felix" she smiled not even looking at the camera "I'm his girlfriend".

"Nali I'm almost certain you're not but I will see if he's here" you muttered leaving her looking confused. "Hang on" said louder so she could hear you properly. Walking back from the panel the boys were all sitting on the couches or pillows on the floor chatting, playing a video game or on their phones.

"Ok, who invited Nali?" You asked loudly interrupting them and making them all turn towards you.

"Nali? who is Nali?" Innie asked.

"She says she's Felix's girlfriend but she fucked Seung last week so I'm skeptical" you rolled your eyes watching Seungmin gulp and Felix look annoyed.

"How do you even know her if she was with Seung?" Innie asked confused.

"She's the room mate that I needed to move away from because I was sick of getting kicked out of my own room for these guys to get laid" you explained dryly pointing towards Felix, Hyunjin and Minho making the already slightly confused vibe in the room to turn weirder.

"Hold on you already knew them?" Han asked "Didn't you just meet Minho tonight?".

"Officially? yes it doesn't count if he just walks past as I get tossed out does it?" you shrugged feeling both annoyed and bored as the intercom continued to buzz continuously.

"I'll get rid of her" Felix almost growled standing up and walking down the hall to see her at the door.

You went back to the kitchen as the atmosphere between the boys changed not really wanting to be a part of it you waited on the other side of the wall and watched as Felix and Nali argued, she looked angry as she yelled at him her arms gesturing wildly while he stood motionless with his back to the camera until she stormed away, you then stepped into the hall to wait for him to return there was a knock on the door that signaled Felix was back, you could hear muffled hissed conversations happening in the other room as you opened the door for him again.

"She's gone, she wont come back either" he looked at you apologetically.

"I truly didn't care to be honest what you guys do is your business" you shrugged leaving him to take his shoes off, and make your way back to your room.

"She isn't my girlfriend, I'm not with anyone" he called to you as you reached the end of the hall.

"I didn't think she was but thanks for the clarification Felix" you sighed, entering the lounge you noticed how stern Chan looked and how sheepish both Minho and Hyunjin looked "Um did I walk in when I shouldn't have?"

"No we were just talking about how Hyunjin and Minho never mentioned that they had already met you" Seung explained as Innie rolled his eyes.

"They hadn't met me per say they just stood to the right of the door as I was chucked out, we never exchanged pleasantries" you tried to joke but it fell flat.

"We didn't realize that you were Nali's roommate though" Minho spoke softly "we also didn't realize that us coming round was the reason why you had to move out".

"My grades were falling and I need to keep them up otherwise I lose my funding" you explained biting your lip. "It's not actually your fault that Nali likes to enjoy herself, she is allowed to do that, the same as you can do whoever you want it was more the whole no sleep and stuff like that".

"Kind of worked out good though" Innie grinned throwing his arm loosely around your shoulders "We never would have met and you never would have started bringing us home left over food"

"Thanks Innie" you rolled your eyes moving to sit on the arm of the sofa beside Seungmin "I'm so glad the food is what keeps me around and not my stellar wit and charm".

"Seungmin said you had fairly strict parents" Chan started looking at you softly "Do they approve of the whole living with two guys and walking home alone at night thing you have going on?"

"Nope" you laughed genuinely "They don't mind the boys, mainly because I told them they were gay, but they would prefer I lived with girls. They don't know about the job at the café, they think I work as a tutor" you explained your face heating up at the admission as Seung pushed you almost of the couch and Innie gasped dramatically

"As a tutor?" Han laughed "Why would you even want to do that?"

"Well I did to begin with but I couldn't keep it up after I needed to move, it pays almost nothing, so I got the café job so I could pay rent" you shrugged. "besides what they don't know won't kill them".

"So they are super strict then?" Changbin asked looking slightly concerned.

"Look at it this way when they found out I had my first kiss when I was 15 they sent me to my grandmother's for the summer, if I was busy on the farm then boys couldn't 'distract' me from my studies" you sighed shaking your head.

"You're kidding you were sent off for manual labor for kissing a boy?" Seungmin laughed making you glare at him while the others looked between themselves.

"I didn't get any say in it he just grabbed me and kissed me, I didn't even like the jerk" you pouted making Jeongin laugh too.

"You are actually hopeless" Seungmin started laughing even harder both of you missing the look Felix had on his face.

"Turns out maybe I should have stayed with Nali, she at least offered to help me get laid you two just eat me food at laugh at me" You huffed in fake annoyance moving from the sofa Seungmin was on the perch on the arm next to Chan.

"That was cold" Hyunjin laughed making you shrug.

"Aww we can get you laid" Innie laughed "we have a few friends worth your time like....."

"Yeah please don't, I've seen the girls you bring home and I'm good" you interrupted "besides the last thing I need is for my parent's to think I'm seeing anyone that would end badly" you blinked furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

"What do you mean?" Han asked gently.

"If my parents found out that I was even casually hooking up I would be pulled out of school" you admitted quietly "The rules for my education are pretty clear cut, if I study and do well I get rewarded by being able to attend this university, If I get distracted or start dating even if it doesn't effect my grades my funding will be pulled and I will have to return to my home town".

"That's pretty harsh" Chan cautiously added.

"Yeah but I really down want to got back all I ever wanted was to get out and now I have I wont jeopardize that" you smiled "But enough about me I have no life after all".

"Yes you do" Innie protested.

"You literally said I have no life not like five minutes ago" you laughed getting up and crossing the lounge to your own bedroom door "try not to get in any fights Seung and Innie I'm not holding your hair while you puke, have fun".

Closing your bedroom door you sighed leaning against it feeling overwhelmed, Felix had tried to be nice to you but after Nali showed up the reality of what he was like crashed over you like a bucket of ice water, Hyunjin and Minho were obviously just trying their luck to annoy your room mates and although all of Seung and Innie's friends were attractive and seemed so kind you didn't want to get to involved, you didn't want the hurt that would inevitably come with the unrequited feelings and being ditched when they got into serious relationships.

"Why the fuck would you touch her like that?" Felix spat making you jump slightly from where you were leaning.

"Felix, do you know how you look at her? like those party girls look at you all big eyed and hopeless" Minho laughed louder than he probably meant to as you could hear other laughter.

"Man you are fucking whipped, is it this one of those weird she doesn't want me I have to have her things?" Hyunjin asked sniggering

"Fuck off both of you" Felix groaned and you could almost imagine him looking at the ceiling as they laughed at him "Is it totally impossible that I just want to be friends with her?".

"Not totally impossible but implausible" Han answered back quickly.

"If it's just friends that's fine but you try anything with her and it's us having to pick up the pieces if she gets hurt" Seung said seriously his voice low.

"Seung, man I'm not going to hurt her I just find her interesting, she has not interest in any of us which is actually nice for a change" Felix seemed to be able to talk his way out of everything since they all got up to leave for the party that was happening on the other side of campus.

After they had been gone for a little while and you were sure they were not coming back you ventured out of your room to clean up, collecting the plastic cups and bags of chips that had been left behind and putting the extra beer in the fridge. You hoped that this was enough to sate Seungmin and Jeongin's need to include you so that you could go back to being just the girl who happened to live with them that they could all speak to in passing and nothing more but you knew it would never be that simple. It was however playing on your brain how much Felix had insisted that he wasn't with Nali, how she wouldn't return and that he was single. Part of you was thrilled that he wanted you to know those things but the other more logical side of you knew it was so he didn't look like a total wanker for sending her away. Typical fuck boy. The hours ticked by and you had watched a couple of episodes of a drama you were trying to catch up on and planning out your weeks study schedule around your work shifts so you felt like you had achieved something at least before you stretched, yawned and decided to get ready for bed.

You woke to what you sounded like someone had broken in, bumping and doors opening and closing, you sat bolt upright and reached behind your beside table to pull out the bat you had kept near you bed since you were a kid preparing yourself in case your door opened. Light spilled under your door making you swallow hard that they had obviously made there way further into the apartment listening harder you got out of bed and stood behind the door so at least if anyone came into your room you could smack them one, until you heard what you knew was Jeongin's voice sounding strange. Not thinking you opened your door bat poised to attack the first person you needed to, to defend Jeongin even if it meant giving away that you were in the apartment. You almost took a very drunk Han's head off as you swung at the first moving target missing him only when you raised your arms to make the bat go much higher.

"Woah what just happened" Han slurred yelping belatedly as he and the others spun towards you.

"Why have you got a bat?" Changbin hiccuped scratching his head and swaying a little his eyes only half focused.

"Why does the bat have a fluffy sock on it?" Chan cackled still sitting on the floor where he was arranging the couch cushions into a makeshift mattress.

"You ok?" Felix asked a look of confused concern flashing across his face.

"I thought you were fucking breaking into my house" you half heartedly snapped frowning at them as Seungmin came into the room holding an arm full of blankets and stuff.

"Oh shit they were not meant to wake you" he sighed you could tell that he was only tipsy where as Jeongin who was following him and walked straight into him was very much drunk.

"Next time just tell me there are going to be drunk boys in my house so I don't think we're getting robbed" You groaned feeling both flustered and annoyed to be standing there in front of all of them with sleep mussed hair and your pajamas.

"The sock is fluffy?" Changbin asked only just having caught up with the conversation.

"Yeah, in case anyone grabs the bat from me I have a whole second swing to cave their head in" you snapped before retreating back to your room your heart was still going a million miles an hour. As you put your bat back and got back into bed, you could still hear them mumbling and eventually go silent as you tried to get comfortable and go back to sleep.

Eventually you thought you could probably sneak out and get some water since you couldn't hear anything outside an occasional snore, but instead there was a very quiet knock on your door, not wanting to get dragged into any sort of drunk bullshit you stayed silent knowing they would give up. Surprising you however your door opened slowly and Felix crept in, his blonde hair shining in the low light from the window making it obvious that it could only be him, he closed the door behind him silently and settled himself on the floor sitting against your bed sighing softly and laying his head back against your mattress.

"I know you are already asleep and I know you didn't invite me into your room" he whispered "But I was worried that we had scared you too much for you to be able to sleep properly, so I'm going to stay just here and keep you safe. But don't worry I'm not drunk so nothing will happen".

You laid there just in silence just listening to his soft breathing evening out quickly as he quickly drifted off to sleep. You blinked a few time still touched by the kindness in his words when a soft snore fell from his lips you realized he was asleep and probably going to hurt his neck if he kept leaning against your bed like that. Slipping from your bed you tried to silently pad to your wardrobe to get out a spare blanket and pulled one of the pillows off your bed, slowly tipping him on to his side beside your bed you slipped the pillow beneath his head and covered him so he wouldn't be cold before you settled back into bed and drifted off to the soft sounds of his breathing and his words drifting through your mind.

When morning eventually arrived you could hear sounds coming from the kitchen, albeit it quiet sounds, you stretched and move to get up and use the bathroom only to stop in your tracks when you remembered Felix had fallen asleep beside your bed. Looking on the floor you noticed that the blanket was folded and placed on top of the pillow in the spot he had been in. Furrowing your brows you weren't sure if you were sad he was no longer there or happy that you didn't need to have an awkward conversation about why he was emerging from your room. Slipping into the shower you brushed your teeth before you got changed into something nicer than your normal sweats and hoodie which you hoped Seung or Innie wouldn't fuss about and made your way out in search of food.

"Wow you look good this morning" Seung whistled lowly trying to tease you.

"Shut up Seung I need coffee and food as a reward for being woken up in the middle of the bloody night by drunken hoodlums" you poked your tongue out at him as you wandered across the room past the still sleeping Han and Changbin. "Weren't there more of them?" you gestured with your thumb to the unconscious pair.

"Yeah Felix and Chan went out to get us breakfast for crashing here and waking you up" he explained handing you a mug of coffee.

"Thank you, remind me to thank them too" you smiled blowing on the cofee for a moment before sipping.

"I also didn't know you had a baseball bat in your room" he joked as he made a cup for himself.

"Well I need to be able to defend myself" you shrugged moving to sit at the table and wait for the others to return.

"Ow my head" you heard Han whine as he started coming around.

"I'll get you something don't move around too much" you giggled silently taking a glass of water that Seungmin had put on the bench top and some painkillers over to Han.

"Hey bedside service I could get used to that" He smiled his eyes barely open to look at you.

"Yeah I wouldn't if I was you" Felix quipped putting a couple of paper bags on the counter as Chan placed a tray off coffees next to it, Han chuckled and Changbin groaned tiredly.

"Can I get some painkillers too please?" he mumbled softly.

"Of course big guy" you grinned handing him some paracetamol and going to grab him the other glass of water "I mean it's only fair since I nearly maimed Han with a bat thinking you were robbing us".

"Hold on that did happen?" Han scratched his head look confused.

"Breakfast is ready" Seungmin interrupted making your eyes light up as you turned to watch him put your favorite pastry on a plate for you, totally missing the look of utter adoration that crossed Felix's face seeing you look so happy over such a small thing.

a/n: Another short and sweet chapter but thank you for reading and as always and comments, reblogs or live are cherished. I love the shit out of you guys xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @bakedlilgoonie, @shiy, @is2cb97, @beautifulixr, @skyhold-tara, @army-stay-noel, @skizzel-reblogs, @facelesswrittes, @animehideout

[bloodtwin]

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠 。。。

             latest grave robbed: unprompted interactions 。

@silvertiefling   ⸻ ❝ He had disappeared for a few days while she hung around the bhaal temple - and she had been pouty about it the whole time. He hadn't even told her where he was going or what he was doing and she was irritated to discover him gone. But when he finally returned, a different sensation ran through her. One of relief, of care, of love and excitement - it scared the shit out of her but didn't stop her from running up to him and jumping into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck as she smothered his face in as many kisses as she could. "Puck! Gods, there ya are you little shit - ya didn't even kiss me goodbye, you owe me a million kisses for every day you were gone!" yet she's still the one pressing her lips all over his face, not giving him a second to breathe. ❞

That wasn't what he expected 。What was it he expected, exactly ？ He wasn't really sure now that he thought about it, but whatever it was- it was not excitement 。Maybe he hoped thought that, if he didn't say goodbye, she would leave & never return. She'd realize whatever pleasure she derived from him wasn't worth the trouble it cost. 

          It wasn't that he wanted her to leave, but if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that everything he touched inevitably died 。It was only a matter of time before it was her turn, too. Surely, she knew that ？

She knew it better than anyone, actually. She'd seen the worst of him. Worse than even Iago had ever seen. Katya was not a saint by any definition of the word, but there was a difference between being a bad person & being an irredeemable monster 。Logically, she should have run away ages ago.

          Yet she lingered still, laying herself down in her own grave; deeper & deeper with every day she came back to him. It was that ease with which she seemed to trust him that terrified him. Not only did she let him go too far, but she encouraged it. Wanted it. It was stupid of her; it was reckless 。He had no idea when that reckless faith first began, but he wished he'd recognized it for what it was. Wished he'd nipped it in the bud, pushed her away, saved her from him. He didn't understand what she saw in him.

Puck did not doubt Katya's strength nor her ability to defend herself against him. He believed her to be the most likely person to succeed in killing him, if such a thing was even possible. But most likely was not good enough. One day, he would lose control. He would catch her off guard at just the wrong time, overpower her, and she would die.

          She'd probably find it romantic 。She'd choke to death, not because Puck had his hands around her throat, but because she would waste her breath to taunt & tease him until the light faded in her eyes. Such a thing would usually entice him, spur him on. With her, it made him feel sick.

Why ？She'll die, anyway 。Or did you forget already ？You know how this story ends ; you're the one writing it, after all. Everyone dies, then you take your own life at the same time you take your bloodtwin's. This mutt is nothing 。Fodder. A toy you should have discarded long ago 。It'd be a mercy to kill her now.

          ❝ You are being dramatic, I think, ❞ a tease he often threw her way, but today it lacked its usual warmth. It sounded numb, distant. Instinctively, Puck had caught her in his arms, but his embrace felt stiff, heavy yet barely there. Almost as if he were a ghost.

Puck willed a cocky smirk on his face as she kissed him though each brush of her lips made his stomach drop.

          ❝ I did not realize my absence would be 。。。 ❞ A bad thing. The idea that there was someone who truly missed him was entirely alien to him. He didn't know what to do with it. Didn't know what to say. He settled on leaning on old, sarcastic habits. ❝ ⸻ Ah, so harrowing for you, dear. I apologize. ❞

[spencers-abit-weebish]

Friend-Zone

XxX

Warnings: Slight talk of Trauma, Hades because they need to be their own warning, Typicsl COD violence

The One Where: Four Times Soap has noticed Hades actively avoiding the men of 141 and One time he finally gets to talk to them.

Pairing: Soap x Nb!Reader

A/n: Hades is non-binary, uses they/them pronouns and is described as looking androgynous for trauma reasons *jazz hands* (sorry I make jokes at poor situations)

W/c: 3.4k

xXx

Soap walked into the gym on base with Gaz and Ghost finding that there were some members already occupying it. You and Tangled were on the sparing mats while Bang sat to the side watching you both.

“Hey guys” Bang turned back greeting the group of men.

“Gaz” Tangled smiles as she doubles over trying to catch her breath.

“I think it’s my turn to spar with Hades” Bang chuckles.

“Just give me a minute, one of these days I can hand them their ass” Tangled says.

“Take a break I’m gonna go find Missus and go over some mission reports” You avoiding eye contact with the men as you head to your stuff.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna spar with one of us?” Gaz offered seeing that you had barely broken a sweat while Tangled looked like she was dying.

You didn’t answer as you grabbed your bag. You ended up making the mistake of looking up and catching Soap’s eye who smiles. You quickly looked away and grabbed the rest of your stuff, leaving.

“Hades doesn’t train with men” Bang explained.

“Why?” Gaz asked. Tangled shrugged im response,

“Won’t tell us, just that if they train with a man there’s a slight chance that man won’t be alive by the end of training” Tangled said.

“They have some sort of PTSD against men?” Soap asked.

Bang and Tangled both shrugged, “We don’t know if it’s trauma or sexism” Bang said.

“We just know that Hades doesn’t like being around men for too long without the presence of a friend” Tangled added gesturing towards Bang and herself. Soap hums to himself looking at the door Hades had just walked out of.

xxx

It was the middle of the night. Soap hadn’t slept at all due to having woken up in the middle of the day. Ghost always recommended going to the gym to wear of some steam so that’s exactly what he did.

What he didn’t expect was to hear someone else on the machines in there. Soap slowly walked in peaking around the corner. You were on one of the machines and due to how sweaty you were Soap could guess you had been there a while now. Soap watches as you got up removing your headphones and lifted your shirt to wipe the sweat off your face. Soap noticed the amount of scars littering your stomach, almost as if they were tally marks.

Soap remembered how Bang and Tangled said that you avoid men at all costs. He didn’t want to intrude on your workout but as he went to leave when he heard you talk.

“You can come workout, I was just about to leave” you said. Soap turned back seeing you were grabbing your gym bag bag.

“Uh, actually, ye think ye could spot me?” Soap asked heading over to the bench press.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I should get going” You told him as you scoff shaking your head. Your heartbeat was racing, anxiety spiking. You quickly make your way to the door stopping when Soap calls to you.

“How long ye've been here Hayds?” Soap asked. He noticed how you tensed up at the nickname.

“Few hours” You said softly as you went to leave again.

“Hey Hades” Soap called out right before you left. “Have a good night” He said. You felt the smallest bit of pressure relieve itself from your chest. You gave him a weak smile causing him to smile brightly in response.

When you stepped out of the gym, you leaned against the cold stone wall a hand pressed to your chest. But, Soap calling out to you, it felt different.

xxx

“Damn” Soap mumbled to himself as he watches you be a one person killing machine.

“That’s why Hades always leads and we cover” Athena said patting his back with a chuckle.

“Hey LT, shouldn’t we pull back the reins before they get themselves hurt?” Bug asked.

“Not yet” Athena said looking over at Ghost and Soap.

A few members of the 333 were assigned a mission and took some of the 141 boys along with them for assistance. You and Athena were leading the mission with Bug, Soap, Otto, Ghost, and Tick.

“How about now?” Tick asked.

“Just cover them” Athena hisses as she shot at an enemy soldier.

“How about now!?” Ghost asked as another wave of soldiers came from behind him causing the team to find the nearest cover.

“Hades!” Soap yelled as he tackled you and pulled you to cover.

“Get off me” You yelled slashing at him. Soap grabbed the arm that was wielding the knife before quickly backing away from you. The knife was almost at his temple, thank the gods for helmets. You caught your breath for a moment before sitting up grabbing the rifle that fell to your side. “Fuck Soap, Don’t do that,”

“Sorry, we just got ambushed from the back” Soap said looking past some carts and boxes seeing the soldiers being taken down one by one. He watched as you crouched a little ways from him and started shooting at soldiers taking them down with ease.

“Wow you’re a good shot” Soap said as he set up his rifle following your moves.

“We all are, all of us are snipers” You smiled as you saw Otto shoot down someone.

“Witches got the pathway cleared, bloody good shots, all of them” Ghost said over the comms.

“How’re you doin’ Hades?” Otto asked.

“Fine” You said softly. Soap nervously glanced over at you seeing you stand up when Tick had finally got the last shot. You looked up at him as he stood giving him a curt nod. You reached over as if to pat him but decided against it.

Before he could say anything, you quickly went ahead Otto, Bug, and Tick joining you. You patted Bug’s back before taking the lead again.

“What happened?” Athena asked stepping to Soap’s side.

“Nothing” Soap shrugged with a small smile on his face. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the thought. You were about to pat his back like you did with Bug. He’d call that progress.

xxx

Soap sighs heavily as he stands outside the room. He quickly knocks looking around.

“MacTavish, hey, what can I do for you” Athena smiles. Soap looks past her seeing Bug with his tactical gear still on and goggles watching SpongeBob. Athena chuckled opening the door showing Pain and Panic were also watching SpongeBob. “I like to make sure they wind down after a mission so rough like our last one, Hades is out at the arcade with Otto, and Tick” Athena said.

“Hi Soap”

“Hey Scotsman”

“Suds”

The three younger soldiers greeted him causing him to wave back. Athena steps out of the door way gesturing for Soap to enter. He does so, nervously wiping his palms against his jeans.

“Um, I’m actually glad there’s more of you I can ask, ya’ see. The mission we went on a while back, with Hades,” Soap struggled to get the words out as he talked directly to Athena while Pain paused the show looking over with Panic and Bug.

“What happened” Athena said sitting Soap down on one of the chairs at her table.

“I feel bad for it but also I don’t know- when we got ambushed from behind, and I tackled them. They tried to stab me and got really mad at me” Soap said.

“Oh, I see” Athena said.

“I- have we told you about Hades’s issue, with men?” Bug asked.

“Bang and Tangled said they have issues with men, but they didn’t know if Hades was sexist or if they felt with some trauma” Soap said. The 333 members in Athena’s room all looked at eachother before Athena sighed heavily.

“I’m not going to get too into detail because it’s not our place to say, but-“ Athena sighs taking a seat next to Soap. “Hades only recently came out to us as non-binary not too long after Pain and Panic joined the team about a year ago. Before that, before Hades even joined the 333, they were in a different task force. There was a mission that went incredibly wrong and their life went downhill after that. Hades suffered a lot mentally, emotionally, socially, and even physically for a long time. When I met them, they were planning on leaving the military permanently. I told them about 333, how we were all women, and if they let us help them we could. They told me what had happened and, while the men that caused their PTSD haven’t been found yet, let’s just say their former team doesn’t exist anymore. After they joined the 333 Hades started chopping off their hair, and trying to appear the least feminine as possible, because it scared them to look feminine, it still does. Hades’s issue with men is Trauma based and while they have gotten better about it. They’re still not comfortable being alone with men, and especially being tackled by one, even if you are a team mate” Athena said.

“I think out of all of us that have struggled with trauma coming from men, Hades has suffered the most” Bug said, the set of twins agreeing with him.

“You all have-” Soap cut off his question but they knew what he was asking.

“My father was abusive growing up” Athena said.

“I was 14 when I found out I was gender-fluid, living in a house with all men, when I said that sometimes I felt like a boy they ridiculed me and started abusing me and forcing me to do things to prove that I was a boy” Bug said.

“Panic and I have an older brother, and he wasn’t the best towards us, neither were his friends” Pain explained.

“I dated one of his friends” Panic says sighing heavily.

Soap sat back in his seat taking in all of the information he was given.

“The reason task force W.I.T.C.H is the way it is is because we want the world to be a safer place not only for women, but everyone. Women that have suffered what we’ve been though, kids that grow up in abusive households, LGBTQIA+ people that are too scared of what society will due to them if they come out. Otto and Missus have both been victims of hate crimes because they’re both into women and Tick… Actually I think Tick is the most normal one out of all of us” Pain said.

“Thank you, for telling me all of this. I had no idea” Soap said.

“Thank you for coming to us, as a team of mainly women were not very accepted when we team up with other task forces but you guys have been nothing but kind to us since we’ve come into your lives” Athena said.

“Do you all, have PTSD from those experiences?” Soap asked.

“Not as bad as Hades, I personally have a certain trigger but very rarely do I have an episode” Athena explained.

“Similarly to Hades, Pain try to distance ourselves from men we’re not comfortable with, that’s why you’ll never see them and Archer in the same room” Panic said, ending their statement with a teasing tone.

“I will rip his ears off and staple them to Toad’s forehead” Pain said simply.

“You’ve been spending too much time around Tangled” Athena pointed at the twin.

A knock at Athena’s door caused her to get up opening it.

“Oh my, they’re Beetlejuice” Bug whispered causing Pain and Panic to chuckle.

“Hades, hey, how was the arcade?” Athena asked.

“Fine, Tick was getting annoyed because little demons were roaming around so we left” You walked into Athena’s room, exhaustion clear in your tone, but stopped immediately when you saw Soap.

The man smiles softly at you causing you to weakly smile back offering a small wave.

“We were just winding down, watching SpongeBob, would you care to join?” Pain offered.

“Uh no- it’s fine- I was just-” You stumble over your words, something that wasn’t common. It was obvious that despite having your team with you, Soap’s present affected you.

“I think I should get going, Bang, Tangled, and Gaz wanted to go out for beers” Soap says getting up.

“Can I come?” Bug asked excitedly.

“Do you want to get in more comfortable wear first?” Soap chuckled. Bug smiles brightly as he runs out the room to his to get changed.

“Bugs a lightweight, you should keep an eye on him” You smile softly, lightly gesturing towards the door that Bug just ran out of.

“How do you know his pronouns?” Soap asked.

“He usually wears a piece of jewelry that’s a certain color for whatever he feels that day. He wears blue for boy, pink for girl, white for neither, and black for he doesn’t know/care” You explained before grabbing your dog tags, “Normally though he has a rubber coating around his dog tags, that’s the easiest tell”

Athena glanced back at Pain and Panic who were both grinning widely seeing you interact with Soap. It seems that your love and protection for the younger solider makes them more open to talking.

“Noted, and may I ask about you and Panic, I know you both identify as non-binary but any specific pronouns?” Soap asked. You smiles brightly causing the other 3 soldiers to be taken aback.

“I use they/them, but if you use She/her on me I don’t mind” Panic said as they looked over at you.

“I’m severely uncomfortable with she/her, I only use they/them” You said. Soap smiles brightly as he glanced at the door seeing Bug had come back. He was wearing baggy boyish clothing and Soap noticed the blue ring they had on their middle finger along with, as you mentioned, the border on their dog tags.

“I use he/him but wouldn’t mind hearing a they/them every now and then” Soap smiles turning his attention back to you.

“Noted” You said. You tried your best to hold back a smile, a genuine smile, but Athena and the twins knew you well enough to tell that you were getting comfortable.

“Ready to go my boy?” Soap asked ruffling Bug’s hair. Bug smiles brightly nodding his head. “Goodnight you guys” Soap smiles back at the room of W.I.T.C.H members before leaving with Bug to meet up with Tangled, Bang, and Gaz.

“Hades” Panic says squinting their eyes at their Lieutenant as Athena closed the door behind the two soldiers.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Soap?” Pain asked teasingly. You tighten your lips into a flat line.

“They’re okay I guess, I mean-” You sigh heavily through your nose as you sit down in the chair Soap was in previously. “Gaz is okay to be around as long as I have Tangled with me but it feels like I’m third wheeling so I try to avoid it,” You start to explain. “Price is okay, I guess I’m more comfortable with him than any of the others since he’s a superior and Missus has a lot of trust in him. Ghost, I’m okay with as long as I’m not alone with him, but Soap…” You trailed off not really having an opinion on the Scotsman.

“Get to know him some more Hades, he’s a lot like Bug only more calm” Athena offered gently.

“I know, none of these guys are bad, if anything they’re the best group of men we’ve worked with. I just- I don’t want to have an episode” You were clearly a little frustrated as you groan dropping your head against the table.

xxx

“Soap!” You tackled the Scottish soldier to the ground dragging him behind a dumpster as you avoid flying bullets. Otto was already hidden behind the dumpster and immediately starts tending to Soap.

“Fuckin’ steamin Jesus” Soap groans as he supports his forearm that just got shot.

“You bloody idiot” You said as you set up your rifle. You stand up protectively over Soap and Otto as you start shooting back.

“Archer make yourself useful and cover us, we’re right under your building” Otto said into her comm.

“Trying my best up here Doc Ock, you guys aren’t the only ones in a bit of a pickle” Archer respond.

“Hades, on your 6” Toad says. You turn around shooting one enemy soldier that came from behind while Toad had gotten the other one.

“We got the target, evac is less than 10, start heading to RV” Athena says.

You look down at Soap and Otto, the doctor already bandaging his arm while the Sergeant played with the bullet she had pulled from him.

“Ready to go?” You asked crouching down a hand on Soap’s shoulder.

“Are you good to fight?” Otto asked. Soap nods his head as the two pack their stuff and grab their weapons.

“Hades lead, I’ll cover our backs Soap you stay in between us” Otto orders.

“Excuse me I thought I was the Lieutenant”

“When we have someone injured I’m in charge” Otto replies. You only chuckles as you start leading the way back to rendezvous.

“Archer come down” You said into the comms.

“Coming down L.t” Archer responds.

When they were met face to face with a few enemies you didn’t hesitate to shield Soap and Otto as they went to shoot. You fired first taking them down but one of them managed to hit you causing you to stumble back into Soap’s arms

“Hades!” Soap and Otto yelled.

“I’m fine, these bigots have worse aim than storm troopers, only one of them hit my vest” You said patting yourself down. When you feel the hands holding onto your vest you look at Soap who seemed worried. He realized how he was holding you and quickly let go with an apology. Archer had finally met up with the three of you, the team of four meeting up with the rest of 141 and 333.

In the infirmary Otto checked out the shot you earned to see you were getting the bruise under your vest while Soap got his arm checked out.

“Should heal in about a week, we shouldn’t have a mission soon so as long as you put this on it daily you should be okay” Otto said handing you an anti-bruising ointment.

“What would I do without you” You joked as you get up from the hospital bed.

“Die probably” Otto jokes before going to check on the other team members. You looked over at Soap who was with Tangled, Bug, and Gaz. You take a calming breath, popping a few of your bones as if you were warming yourself up for a fight

“How’re you feeling?” You asked walking up to him.

“Could be better, Doc Ock says I can’t do much until I get the stitches removed which should take about a week” Soap says gesturing to the woman smacking Price upside the head because he wouldn’t let her tend to the gash on his calf. “How’s yer stomach?” Soap asked.

“Just a bruise, thankfully my vest did it’s job” You said lifting their shirt enough to show the bruise and a bit of the scarring in your stomach. Completely forgetting about the scars you had.

“How’s you get those?” Gaz asked, earning himself an elbow to the rib from Tangled. Soap noticed how uncomfortable you immediately got as you dropped the hem of your shirt letting it fall back into place.

“Funny story, I have a scar right on my v-line from a biking accident” Soap says lifting his shirt. The scar was rather thin and obviously old as he traced it with his pinky finger “Was mountain bikin’ with some friends when I was a wee bit lad, going down hill I lost control and flew right off, sliced myself on a rock” He said. Soap could feel the way you warmed up, grateful for the shift in attention.

“I wonder how many of your scars are from stupid stuff you’d done before joining the military” Gaz said.

“I actually hold the record for that, most of my scars are outside military related accidents” Bug says.

“They still have a scab from taking a tumble the day before we came here” You chuckled causing Bug to scrunch his nose at you. But after some teasing and taunting from Gaz and Tangled he lifted the sleeve of his shirt showing the thin but long scab going down their outer arm. Soap glanced at Bug’s hand seeing a black bracelet on their wrist, then at his dog tags that had a black border.

“Accident prone, good to know” Gaz chuckles patting Bug’s head after she rolled her sleeve back down.

“Ghost holds the record for most scars” Soap teased glancing around for his dark counterpart only to find he wasn’t in the infirmary anymore.

“Emotional, Mental, or Physical?” You asked.

“Yes” Gaz and Tangled responded in unison nodding their heads. You hummed to yourself, a small reminder that you didn’t know these men as well as you profiled.

“Bug let me take a look at you, I know you have bruises on you young man” Otto said patting the bed that Price was just on.

“Hey could ye grab me a drink, I’m still here until the nurse gets me my pain medication” Soap asked, his question directed towards Gaz.

“Sure, I’ll be back, you two want anything?” Gaz asked you and Tangled. Tangled spared a glance at you. You silently gestured with your head for Tangled to go ahead and go with Gaz. Tangled raised their eyebrows as if asking if they were sure to which you responded by nodding.

“I’m good mate, thanks though” You said.

“I’ll go with you” Tangled said as she left with Gaz.

You moved yourself to sit in the chair in front of Soap. You slightly grunted due to the pain in your abdomen but nothing Soap had to worry over. Though he was more focused on something else anyways.

“Ye took a bullet fer me” Soap says.

You sigh leaning back in your seat leaving your head against your hand that was propped up against the arm rest. “I Know

“I know yer not the biggest fan of men. Athena told me ye have some past issues, thank ye, I really appreciate it” Soap says.

Hades sighs heavily sitting themself straight on the chair.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” They start off causing Soap to be confused. “The only reason I’m okay being around Price and Gaz is because Tangled and Bang made me be around them a lot. But you, you did it all on your own” Hades said.

“That’s a good thing right?” Soap asked.

“I guess” Hades shrugged, smile slowly forming on her face.

“I’m glad, I’d hate for ye to be uncomfortable ‘round me, and please let me know if I ever do anything to over step yer boundaries” Soap said sincerely.

“Thank you Soap, that means alot to me” Hades said.

“Call me Johnny”

Hades smiles as they stand up offering their hand to him.

“Friends?” They asked. Johnny smiles down at their hand happily taking it.

“Friends”

xxx

“Missus, look” Athena nudges her superior who was talking to Price. She gestures over to Hades who was sitting across from Soap.

“Are they-” Missus cuts herself off as Price scoffs in disbelief.

“Well I’ll be damned, can’t be surprised anyways, if anyone was going to crack Hades’s distaste for men it was going to be Soap” Price says.

“What do you mean by that” Athena said.

“He’s been a lovesick puppy over them ever since you all arrived, Soap’s a very determined man, he’ll do anything in his power to be an amazing friend to someone” Price said.

“Lovesick puppy you say” Missus teases.

“He’s already in the friend-zone, let’s see if he can make it to the next level” Athena smiles.

xxx

“What's that scar from” Hades asked gesturing to the small white scar on his chin.

“First time I shaved” Soap said with slight embarrassment making Hades chuckle.

“Who knows, you might have Bug beat on most non-military related scars”

xxx

A/n: As always let me know if there are any grammar errors and if you have any requests relating to the 333 don’t hesitate to ask 🫶

Taglist: @fluffysmiko @abbiesxox @agspgrwasb

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 3841 (chapter 28)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

UPDATES: expect the unexpected but have hope

Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad!

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012

wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012

28. Chasing Wind in the Dead of Night, pt. 2

"Morning." You open the doors of Nelson and Murdock, and are immediately greeted by Matt's sour face, and it takes you by surprise that he's sitting at Karen's desk.

"Hey." He makes himself at least to greet you, but his voice is just above the whisper.

"Where is everybody?" You hang your coat, noticing that only Matt's was hanging.

"Foggy went out to Landman and Zach with Karen." He says, jaw visibly tightening.

"What for?" You sit in front of him and drop your purse next to your legs, together with a paper bag, whereas Matt drops the papers that he's been reading in an angry manner.

"A case." He says with a serious tone, crossing his arms.

"The Spanish lady one?" You furrow your eyebrows slightly, recalling the glare she gave you yesterday.

"Yes, the one you almost dropped." Matt's jaw tightens a little when he takes in your perfume. You poured a lot more than you usually would, but you still smell like him. Wesley.

"I'm really not used to giving out charity when this place is falling apart, Matt."

"You work for me..." he takes a longer pause than he actually needed and quickly finishes his sentence, "and Foggy, which means that you have to consult us before deciding if the person is worth our time."

"I would, but you know, the problem is that you're barely in the office, boss." You stress the last word, and Matt clenches his fist under the table. He knows deep down that you're right. Without money, they soon will have to close the office, and the money they got from Melissa's case barely covered this month's rent.

"As a defence attorney, you should start acting like one." He slips accidentally, and closes his eyes for a moment.

"Rough night, Murdock?" You dodge his statement, instead of starting the defence lawyer argument again. You still had to come a long way to become a real defence attorney, and this pressure from Matt was only putting fuel in the fire.

"Might ask you the same thing." He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest.

"A little, yeah, but you know... Exactly how I like." You say with something in your voice that Matt can't quite put his finger around, but it makes his stomach drop.

He left yesterday when Wesley kissed your forehead and closed the door. Now he would have given anything to be able to force himself to leave earlier, but his legs felt like lead, preventing him from moving. "Foggy told me that you left early yesterday."

"I had plans." You say, feeling how your mouth suddenly got dry.

"You didn't finish finalizing the case."

You roll your eyes, and feel like you're back in Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz again, on your trial-week, afraid that a minor mistake will ruin your chances of getting applied there full-time. This lawyer passive-aggressive behaviour was exactly how Benowitz treated you that first week, and exactly how Hogarth scolded you when you lost to Murdock your first case, despite winning 5 before.

"I'll do it today, that's why I'm here." You say instead, turning your head slightly to the right, as if to avoid looking at Matt.

"Try to not leave until the work day is over." He says rather coldly, but softens his tone almost immediately, "please."

"Sure, boss. I'll bore myself to death, only if it pleases you." You get ready to stand up, when Matt changes the topic, a desire to talk with you winning the battle inside of him.

"Anything important happened yesterday?"

"A charity event. For kids fighting cancer." You put your butt back on the chair.

"Oh. You went alone?" He asks nonchalantly, but you catch his all-knowing tone.

"No." Is all you say, Matt furrows his eyebrows slightly. "A secret donator gave 50 thousand dollars."

"That's the biggest donation?"

"Yes." You sigh, "apparently people now donate to trendy things. Cancer's not 'trendy' in Hell's Kitchen anymore."

"Rich people." Matt huffs, thinking that you might take that as an insult, yet, you don't.

"Yeah. Anyway, gotta get to work now." You stand up and take a few steps before stopping next to the office, "any idea when they're coming back?"

"No, why?" Matt takes off his glasses, turning his head to you.

"Oh, just thought that we could order some take out for lunch." You smile, and he smiles back for the first time since yesterday, feeling that he can't be angry at you for too long. After all, it was his fault that he didn't stop you from going out with Wesley again. "You know, just consulting with you."

"I'll think about it, thank you." He keeps the smile on his face even after you disappear in the depths of the office, feeling like he can't control it anymore.

"Oh, right, I forgot-" you quickly return from the office and notice a glimpse of Matt's silly smile.

"What is it?" He quickly collects himself, intently waiting for your next words.

"I'm returning what's yours, Mr Murdock, and in case you didn't have any clean pants left, I washed them." You pull neatly folded gray pants out of the bag and give them to Matt across the table. He takes them, feeling how the softener and laundry detergent made the material soft and almost silky, so pleasant to touch. Your fingers brush against his for a second, and Matt feels a lump in his throat that he can't swallow. Your cheeks turn pink and you pull out your hand quicker. "Might want to bring them home, in case the rats decide to wreck the office." You smile and walk back to the office, feeling your heart beating in your chest and palms sweating. Matt takes a deep breath in, savouring the scent of the laundry detergent.

***

"Hey listen, do you mind doing a favour to a blind man?" Matt returns to the office some time later, carrying all the papers back to his desk. He had already admitted to himself that he got a bit lonely there at Karen's desk, and the silent shuffling of rats somewhere in the walls has not made it any easier for him to work.

"Depends on what kind of favour we're talking." You say, not pulling your eyes from the computer screen, but feeling a slight gust of wind when Matt passes behind your back.

"Will you take me to the Precinct?"

"What for?" You finally hit send with the final report of Melissa's case being done for good.

"I have a couple of questions to ask." He puts the papers on his desk and leans on it, waiting for your answer.

"Is this gonna count as an overtime?" You ask slyly, noticing a grin on Matt's face.

"In another company, maybe."

"You're such a bad employer, you know that?" You tease, closing your computer.

"Well, that's a first one." He theatrically grabs his heart and gets ready to leave, when suddenly he grabs his head with one hand and the edge of the table with another, knocking down the vase and flowers down. Water spills down, splashing on your heels, the vase shatters into pieces and roses get dumped into this whole mess.

"Oh, shit!" You jump from your seat, quickly getting away from the water, but notice how Matt sways a little, still gripping the table. Despite the shards, you tightly grip his arm, "Matt, you okay? What happened?"

He almost falls into your embrace, taking a deep breath. "I-" the words gets stuck in his throat when you touch his face, looking for what might've caused him to act that way.

"Matt? Matt?" You pull him away from the mess, still holding his arms tightly, and force him to sit down for a moment.

"I just got dizzy, that's all." He says, rubbing his eyes for a second. Regaining consciousness, he can still feel your hands softly touching his arms and checking his pulse...

"Your heart's beating like crazy, you sure you're not sick?" You ask again, touching his forehead to see if he has a temperature.

"y/n..." Matt smiles slightly, fighting the urge to hug you right there.

"And your face is burning, Jesus," your palm gently touches his face, noticing how red it became instantly, or maybe he just blushes a lot... "you're sure it's not fever?"

"I'm fine, doctor, thank you. I just don't sleep enough lately, that's all." Matt closes his eyes and enjoys the moment - your fingers touching his face, a single spray of perfume on your wrist, but he can't let you worry about this any longer. Although he was blind, he knew your eyebrows were knitted together, left hand resting on your hip in a disapproving manner. 

"Well, that's bad, did you try drinking warm milk before bed?"

Matt smiles slightly, "no, I doubt it would help."

"Camomile tea?" You pull your hand back, resisting the urge to fix his messy hair.

"Don't have it."

"Got completely wasted?" You ask with a half grin, noticing Matt's raised eyebrow, "what? Works for me."

"Nothing to celebrate now."

"... Got laid?" You feel your cheeks getting hotter but don't pull your eyes away from him, "I mean, men have a tendency to fall asleep right after the deal." 

"Never had complaints about that," Matt chuckles, getting up, "but no."

"Well then, my medical knowledge ends here." You spin on your heel, walking around the table to pick up the flowers.

"Sorry about them." Matt says, coming close to you, "how can I help? Just point me towards something."

"You need to sit down, that ain't two people job." You pick up the flowers, in rather terrible condition and decide to throw them out, after all they were starting to look bad. Matt tries to protest and starts picking up the glass shards, when you grab his wrist, "Murdock, I got this, you're just gonna cut yourself."

"Don't treat me like a baby." 

"But you are one." With your free hand, you push him into the armchair and throw the flowers into the trash can, along with the big pieces of glass, watching Matt sit like a good boy in the corner of your eye. "Do we have paper towels by any chance?"

"Unless Karen bought some." Matt rests his elbows on his knees, listening to you walking around the office like a bee. 

"Hold on." You mutter to yourself and leave the room, quickly checking the cabinet in the kitchen area. "Jackpot." You return triumphantly with a paper towel roll and get on your knees to wipe the spilled water, or at least make sure it doesn't leak downstairs. "We're good to go, unless you want to go home and rest." You stand up, slightly out of breath.

"Of course, yeah."

He stands up, feeling your hand snake up on his elbow, "great, let's go then."

The walk to your car is silent, but Matt feels like enough is said through your touch. The way you were firmly holding his elbow and slightly pushing him forward, indicated that worry still hasn't left you, and you were going to make sure to not let him out of your sight today again.

*** 

"Well look who it is." Brett Mahoney looks up from the documents he's been filling only to see Matt and you nearing his temporarily occupied desk.

"Good day to you too, Brett." Matt extends his arm in front of him, waiting for Mahoney to shake it.

"I see that you're not alone, and strangely with the opponent's lawyer." Brett smiles, briefly looking you two up and down.

"Y/n y/ln, Nelson and Murdock associate, nice to meet you, Brett." You smile with a sugary grin, tightly shaking Brett's hand.

"Nelson and Murdock?" He asks, surprise evident on his face, "didn't know you were hiring, Murdock."

"Well, not anymore." Matt chuckles lowly, coming closer to Mahoney's desk, "how's your mom, Sergeant?" 

"Smells like a stogie.Otherwise, um..."

"Yeah, I keep telling Foggy not to get her cigars..." Matt says, not finishing the thought.

"... But she'd sneak 'em one way or the other. Crafty old bird." Brett laughs, making you wonder how long these two have known each other. And if Mahoney has been giving potential cases to Matt.

"Right, it's why we're here. Friend of hers has a case we're looking into."

"You going after Tully?"

"Yeah, you know him?" You look around the Precinct, not too busy at this hour, but it's lunchtime soon and it will be even emptier.

"Yeah, yeah, guy's a real scumbag.But he stays just this side of ordinance, so there's nothing we can do." Brett sighs loudly, rolling his eyes.

"Can you pull some copies of the complaints? Maybe get us a minute or two with the officers who took them?" Matt asks, with a strange puppy-like face.

"You really think you can help?" He looks at you again, curious expression on his face. He's heard about you being near-excellent in Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz, but he has never met you in person before, so it was natural for him to feel conflicted about your presence. 

"Yeah, we can try." Matt slightly nudges your elbow, smiling politely.

"Let me see what I can find." Mahoney turns around to reach into the box full of documents. "Miss Y/l/n, I haven't exactly heard much about you, but your father is still considered to be one of the best in the whole state. It's a shame that he retired so early, I mean, if I looked like this at his age, I'd be kicking criminals' asses every day." He briefly turns to look at you, then smiles slightly, "I hope that you won't be bringing cigars to my mom, Foggy knows how to convince people."

"Don't worry about that, I think I'm immune to these two." You smile politely, pushing your father's retirement into the farthest corner of your mind.

"Okay, so I have 14 complaints, 5 of them by the same person, and..." Brett quickly checks the papers, "3 officers took them." 

"Great, can we get them here for a sec?" You ask, looking at Matt for a moment, checking if he's not going to faint any time soon.

"I'll try, but it's almost noon, so you know, lunch." Brett looks at you apologetically and leaves the desk.

You and Matt are left in a comfortable silence, leaning on the Sergeant's desk, facing each other. Matt listens to your calm breathing but feels your eyes burning holes in his forehead. He didn't understand what happened in the office but perhaps it was only exhaustion finally catching up with him. In the corner of your eye, you notice a couple of officers coming together, guided by Mahoney until he disappears in the hallway again. "You're taking the woman, Murdock." You say, grinning slyly as they slowly approach Sergeant's desk.

"What? Why?" Matt whispers under his breath, eyebrows knitted together.

"You can work your charm, good luck." You pat his bicep and turn towards the young officer, probably around your age, with a smile.

"Afternoon, are you the lawyers?" He asks, looking at Matt briefly, before directing his whole attention to you.

"Yes, we're from Nelson and Murdock, I'm their associate y/n y/l/n, can we just. ask a couple of questions about the complaints?" You take a couple of steps to the right, further from Matt and the officer immediately gets your clue.

"Sure, ma'am, we can sit down at my office." He says, already showing the way, and his partner also gets the clue to stay with Matt.

"I hope we're not interrupting your work, it'll only take a couple of minutes." You say apologetically, batting your eyelashes at the man.

"Oh, definitely not, ma'am, our job is to help you." He smiles brightly, and you get a feeling that he chose the wrong profession.

"Please, you can call me y/n, that ma'am makes me feel old." You chuckle, stepping into the small office. "Well, that's cozy, officer..." You squint slightly to read the last name printed on his shirt, "Wright."

"Harry, please, take a seat." He motions for you to sit down, while he closes the blinds so the afternoon sun would not blind you. "So, you wanted to know about the complaints for..."

"Tully." You help him, smile never leaving your face. It was one of the ways to earn complete trust with new people.

"Ah, yes, Tully. I've been getting calls from the same house pretty often." He puckers his lips and starts digging the pile of papers on his desk. Sun rays that managed to get through the blinds were getting lost in his blonde hair, almost making him look like a saint. You scan the office quickly - couple of photos with his dog, him on a trip somewhere with his friends, and a medal for something hanging on his wall. No framed pictures on his desk, and no ring on his finger. "Here they are." He turns back to you, a small pile of papers in his hands. 

"Thank you, Harry." You take them, hands briefly touching, and he gets flustered immediately.

"The complaints were written by the same person, right? Mr Aguirero?" 

"Right."

"All five of them in the span of..."

"Only a month." Harry smiles, helping you with the sentence.

"Now the question is..." You skim over the complaints, "is Tully that bad, or is Mr Aguirero so fussy?"

"Both. I've met with Tully four times, he showed me all the legal documents right away and got pretty defensive when I suggested to reach a calm agreement with the residents of the building." Harry sighs, continuing, "Mr Aguirero said that if he saw Tully, he'd throw a bowl of fish heads on him, so yeah."

"Well, I guess the landlord was chosen perfectly." You smirk, noticing how Harry licked his dry lips. "So the complaints are mostly about the checks being late, Tully demanding the rent money right at the beginning of the month and some technical difficulties not being fixed, right?" 

"Yes, but the last one, just a week ago, is a bit odd," he points to the bottom page, "Aguirero said that some men were going around the building, knocking on everyone's doors and asking to move out as quickly as possible because the renovation is about to begin."

"But the landlord has to warn residents about those things at least-"

"4 months prior." Harry finishes, not pulling his eyes from you.

"How did those men look like?"

"Ordinary men, probably nothing memorable about them, since Aguirero only mentioned them looking 'intimidating'." Harry watches you for a moment, deep in thought, "got an idea?"

"I think it's something bigger. Someone behind Tully. Landlord wouldn't send some random people to tell important things."

"I thought the same, yet couldn't figure out who could be working with Tully. A man like him has too many connections to be traced easily, and of course, complaints like these," he motions with his wrist at the papers, "are not our top priority."

"Of course, I understand, your job is very important." You smile brightly, standing up from the chair. Matt had to be just about done too. 

"As is yours, my respect for lawyers is very high."  He extends his arm, and firmly squeezes yours in a handshake.

"Good to know, officer Wright."

"I hope it was helpful, sorry that I had so little to offer." He looks at the floor, or at your legs, you were not sure, but continued to hold his hand for a little longer than necessary.

"That was more than helpful, thank you for your time. I think my partner is already waiting for me," you let go of his hand and turn towards the exist, "have a great day, officer."

"You too, y/n," he smiles and watches you leave his office, then mutters under his breath, "you too."

Stepping into the hallway, you see Matt and a redhead woman still chatting, but when you get closer, the officer bids goodbye and hurries out into the elevator.

"Hey," you gently touch Matt's elbow, "all done?"

"Yeah, I think we're good to go." Matt sighs, crossing his elbow with yours. "Any luck?" 

"Not quite, but I think that someone is hiding behind Tully."

"I thought so too, one of the officers mentioned that some men were visiting residents. Could be someone's men, hired to kick everyone out." Matt takes a deep breath of fresh air when you step out of the Precinct.

"But whose?" 

"I guess we'll have to dig deeper here." Matt sighs again, before you stop him next to the entrance. 

"Wait, I need to smoke." You pull out a pack of cigarettes, not paying much attention to Matt, whereas he overhears two detectives interrogating a Russian... Someone he beat up recently.

One of them, he makes out from the conversation, named Blake, leans on the cold metal table, "Now I just want you to tell me again, how did it start? We have you at the scene with a dead Chinese illegal, Pyotr, and a backpack full of drugs."

"Uh-oh. I'd buy you a one-way ticket to thirty years in Assholeland." His partner, Hoffman mocks.

That'd give you some time to touch up on those tattoos. You boys do that to yourselves, or do you all get shirtless and poke each other?" Blake looks at Piotr with visible digust.

"Do you know who I work for?" Piotr asks, thinking that he is in control of the situation.

Hoffman lets out a laugh, "A couple of dipshit brothers nobody gives a wank about."

Blake taps the table and waves, "Bye-bye, dickhead. Enjoy your next thirty."

They turn to leave, when Piotr stops them. "Wait. What if I give you another name?"

"He'd have to be big." Hoffman smiles menacingly.

"He'd have to be King freakin' Kong." Blake says with already serious face.

"He is..." Piotr stutters, "His name... is Wilson Fisk."

Blake and Hoffman stare at Piotr for a few seconds. Blake walks around the table, leaning close to his face, "Well, what else do you know about this guy?"

Piotr audibly gulps, "Not much. No one is supposed to say his name. But I will tell you everything I know for deal."

"For deal." Blake mocks, securing Pyotr's right wrist to the table, then turns to Hoffman, "Whose turn is it?"

Hoffman crosses his arms, "Yours."

"I thought I took it for that thing in the bodega." Blake turns to look at his partner again.

"Oh, shit, yeah." Hoffman closes his eyes, making a face, but then stops, "All right, wait, wait." Piotr looks between the two men, confused about what they're doing. "Okay. Come on. Come on." Hoffman exhales loudly and suddenly gets punched in the face by Blake and falls, backing himself up against the wall. Matt furrows his eyebrows, listening intently. 

"Watch out! Jeez, he's going for my gun!" Hoffman shouts.

"Watch out!" Blake shouts, pulling his gun out and pointing at Piotr.

"He's got my gun!" Hoffman continues shouting, Piotr holds his hands up, panicking.

"You really shouldn't have said his name." Blake shoots Piotr in the head, and he falls from the chair, handcuffs holding his wrist from completely touching the floor.

Even outside, the shot is heard clear as the day, and Matt quickly hugs you, pushing your body close to the cement wall. You drop your cigarette on the ground, breathing heavily from the collision with the wall and Matt's body. "What the hell" you whisper, breathing heavily in Matt's ear.

Officers from the outside run into the Precinct, chaos inside makes everyone run around like crazy, shouting "shots fired" and "take cover."

Matt remains silent, listening to Blake and Hoffman put on their act.

[giraffenbichler]

On Friday before Willingen I drew Tommy and gave the drawing to him on Saturday after the competition. The situation was then that I was looking for him, walked around and then one of my friends called me and said “Look, Tommy is here!”. My heart almost exploded, I could hardly breathe because I was kind of scared about the upcoming situation. I gathered all my courage and said when he came by: “Thomas?” He literally stared into my eyes, smiled slightly and answered: “Do you like to take a photo or? I have to go for an interview. I’ll come back after it, okay?” Luckily he stayed because I told him “No I don’t only mean a photo. So the fact is that I drew you. Hopefully you don’t have a problem with the slightly softened paper on the bottom but you know that it’s rainy today. And yes I want to give you this drawing.” I smiled at him and felt a bit insecure because I wasn’t sure about this situation but then something happened I never dared to dream of in my entire life. He stared again in my eyes with his ones shining brightly like the sun, almost laughed like a happy little child but still smiled and answered “That’s really nice! Thank you!” and even shook my hand! I was absolutely overwhelmed as well as relieved then. Tommy actually loved to see that and the drawing made him happy because he reacted like he didn’t seem to have expected a fan giving him something.

Later when the interview was done he sadly forgot to come back to the place where I stood and gave him the drawing. I have to add that he’s actually a dreamy person but I went to him and asked him: “Thomas?” and he suddenly reminded. “Oh the photo! Yes.” I put down my phone and we did a photo. I answered politely, smiled and thanked him for taking his time for that. He answered with a “Thank you” and smile on his face and went away.

Surprisingly it was the second photo and meeting within a month because I have already met him in Innsbruck. It was the first time for me taking a photo with him then and talking to him ever. I could have met him actually earlier. Already in Garmisch-Partenkirchen on 1st January, 2023 but then I was always too scared. Like before and after Garmisch-Partenkirchen and Innsbruck because I couldn’t judge him in his kind somehow. Even once before Willingen, exactly two days ago, I suffered another panic attack. But suddenly it was gone. Better to say in that situation when we took a photo together in Willingen then. I’d never thought about feeling safe and comfortable around him but I think that I somehow got to know him better with this situation or was finally able to assess him better. Funnily it was not only his mimics what made me recognising this and but also his voice. It is almost completely different than the one in videos and tv. Not that loud, not that raspy. But as deep as there. But what is making his voice now sounding incredibly comfortable? I guess that the main characteristics are the gentleness, warmth and calmness of it. When you listen to him in real life you maybe just feel safe. And even more when you see his consistently happy face. I immediately thought about it after that situation in Willingen. As well as the fact he has to be even more a great coach if he also behaves in this way towards his athletes and coach colleagues. Honestly, I was absolutely like: “Protect him at all costs.”

What I can say for me now is that I actually miss him and I’m looking forward to meet him again at the next competition I’ll visit. But sadly I don’t know yet when it will happen.

[shadowqueenjude]

The Prince and his Witch part 1

Apollo should've ended up with Aurora. Rewrite from the scene where Aurora first led Apollo to the Tree of Souls.

Aurora dropped flower petals on the path as she walked. She tossed them out before her like some fairy goddess of the forest. And the path to the Cursed Forest treated her as such.

It always rained on the roads to the Cursed Forest—except where Aurora Valor walked. As soon as she tossed her petals and took a step, the rain fell no more. All Apollo felt was a subtle breeze as he walked in step beside her on a path paved in shoes and lined in overturned carriages, some of which still had wheels spinning.

“You haven’t told me what this will cost,” said Apollo, “or where we are going.”

“I’m taking you to the Tree of Souls.”

“Your father—”

“Is very stubborn,” Aurora interrupted. “He knows a great many things, but he does not know everything.”

Something twisted inside Apollo—a feeling that told him either he’d eaten some bad mutton earlier or this was a very poor idea. He knew better than to trust Aurora. She was not half as sweet as she looked as she continued to pull flower petals from her silver cloak and toss them onto the path.

Yet, how could he walk away from this? A chance to be immortal.

“There’s just one small thing I ask in return,” Aurora said, so softly he almost missed it.

Apollo immediately tensed. “What do you want?”

She slowly turned toward him, and for once there was nothing sweet in her expression. She looked wolfish in the moonlight, white teeth gleaming as she said, “I want you stop this nonsense about trying to kill Jacks. After tonight, you will clear his name of crimes and he will no longer be wanted or hunted.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Then I cannot show you the Tree of Souls.” Aurora stopped walking as the path ended and they reached the misty in-between that led to the Cursed Forest. “Either you can have immortality or you can choose to hunt Jacks, who I actually doubt you’ll ever be able to kill—not as long as you’re human. You’ve sent a whole kingdom after him, and what have you come up with? Perhaps once you’re immortal, you’ll have a fighting chance. But I don’t want you to take that chance, which is why right now, you’ll swear in blood on your life never to harm Jacks.”

Apollo’s shoulders tensed. “Why do you want to save Jacks?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is if you’re asking me not to kill him.” Apollo glared. “Did he bewitch you, too?”

Aurora bristled. “No one bewitches me. I’m a Valor.” She looked at him with all the haughtiness of a princess.

And this was exactly why Apollo had never liked princesses. Like Aurora, they often looked good on the outside, but so many of them were rotten at the core.

“If you’re worried about Jacks winning back Evangeline or taking her away from you, you don’t have to,” Aurora said. “I’ve already taken care of it.”

“How?”

“You don’t need to fret about that. I keep my secrets, just as I’ll keep everything between us secret. Now what will it be, Prince?”

Apollo scowled. His father had always told him to be more, and there was nothing more than becoming immortal. But he had difficulty trusting Aurora’s motives. What was her endgame? And why did she want him to spare Jacks? He had got his claws in her as well, he was sure of it.

Nevertheless, he said, “I will swear the oath once you take me to the tree. If I refuse,” he added before she could intervene, “you can always tell the kingdom what I did to my wife.” She nodded ascent and continued to place the flowers. Apollo glared at the Tree of Souls. “It’s ugly,” he muttered. He had expected the tree to be as majestic as his phoenix tree, not this…monstrosity.

“Be careful what you say to it,” Aurora warned.

“It’s just a tree,” Apollo said, but even as he did, the words didn’t feel true. Especially as the pounding of the tree continued to increase, like a raging heartbeat. Evil. It felt evil, like Wolfric Valor had said. “Don’t tell me you’re scared now,” Aurora crooned.

Apollo scoffed, not failing to notice how Aurora didn’t dare touch the tree. “Do you plan on drinking from it as well?”

“I’m waiting a few more years. It’s hard enough being female. I don’t wish to be a young female forever.”

Apollo raised a brow. “What is not to like?”

“There’s so much of the world to experience as a human before I’m bogged down by immortality.” She stalked closer to Apollo.

She was beautiful and distracting- so distracting. But Apollo tried to remember she was no angel; she was the devil. She may play the simpering princess, but Apollo knew better. Aurora was a witch through and through.

Apollo told himself to breathe. “Why do you want to spare Jacks?” he asked again, though his voice didn’t have quite the command typical of a prince. He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to hear it.

“I already told you it’s none of your business.”

“Actually, it is, if you’re going to force me to swear a blood oath not to kill my sworn enemy.”

Aurora sent him a withering glare fitting for a queen. She grabbed him by the collar, eyes searing. “Ask any more questions and the kingdom will know what you did to your wife.”

“And? You have no leverage, Aurora. You’ve already brought me to the tree. I can drink from it whenever I like. And whose word will they take? Mine, or yours? To them, you’re just a silly girl. And if you reveal my secret, there’s nothing stopping me from going after Jacks.”

She clenched her teeth. “Fine. I liked him when we were both young humans, long before he became immortal, and I went into the Valory Arch. But that pissant was in love with some ordinary girl who could turn into a fox. What did that bitch have on me? Well, if I couldn’t have him, then no one else could. I put a curse on him to hunt the fox girl for eternity.”

“You- “Apollo was suddenly overcome with so much rage he couldn’t speak for a moment. “You set the original curse?” He clenched his hands into fists. “You’re a complete fucking asshole, Aurora.” And then he remembered. After what Jacks himself had been through, for him to put that spell on him… “And then Jacks put the very spell that tormented him on me.” He laughed bitterly. “What a man. You and he are well suited for each other. Both of you are monsters.”

Aurora smiled wickedly, gently pushing him backwards. Apollo could’ve easily resisted, but caught off-guard, he let her push him.

“Let’s not be too quick to judge, Apollo,” she purred when she’d pinned him against a tree. “Love makes all of us a little…passionate, does it not? After all, you wiped your fox’s memory of Jacks.”

Apollo opened his mouth to snap back, but then he closed it. She was right. He might not have put the Archer’s curse, but he had wiped Evangeline’s memory.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he said, voice brittle. “Every moment from the second Evangeline entered my life was pain; yet I couldn’t stay away. And somewhere in the midst of everything, I fell for her. But she was going to reject me. She had been hoodwinked by that Fate who ruined my life. I had to do something. I had to protect her.”

It was all a lie. He’d never returned from the dead. He’d merely been cursed, and cursed, and cursed again. Now, for the first time in nearly three months, he was no longer under any spell, and yet he felt cursed by what he had done to Evangeline.

Apollo pulled himself out of the memory. “But even now, Evangeline runs for Jacks. After everything he did to her, after everything he did to me. Despite losing her memory. I can’t explain it. And now you,” he snarled at Aurora, “of all the people, are hoodwinked by him too.”

Aurora dragged a nail across his collarbone. Ran her hands over his chest. Apollo didn’t dare move. “Tell me,”She said, pulling her mouth to his ear, “Do I look like a girl who can be hoodwinked?”

“You want me to spare Jacks.”

“It’s more entertaining that way, Apollo. For both of us. To watch as he pines over the love he can never have.” She laughs. “To watch the curse ruin him again.”

“Curses ruined me, not him,” Apollo said, voice brittle. “Because of him, I was cursed again and again, and I’m starting to think my life is destined to be a very short tragedy.”

One of Aurora’s hands slid into his hair. “What’s there to make a tragedy about?” Her fingers curled. “You’re a handsome prince who cheated death and has a beautiful girl in front of him. That sounds pretty good to me.”

Apollo suddenly became aware of Aurora’s body up against his, deceptively soft as she smiled bewitchingly up at him. Wrong wrong wrong. He had a wife he loved and needed to protect. This woman would be his doom. Yet he didn’t pull away. Couldn’t pull away. It was like he was under a spell.

“Let Evangeline be with a man who can’t even kiss her. While she could’ve had it all, a prince, a kingdom, and a good kiss, she opted to go for broken leftovers. She deserves whatever fate comes out of being with Jacks.”

Her lips were just centimeters from his. “What is there to like?” she whispered, her breath washing over him. “Her rose-gold hair? Well, I have vibrant purple hair that’s far prettier than hers.” She took his other hand and placed it in her hair. God, it was soft. Apollo couldn’t resist running his fingers through it. “Her kindness? When has she ever been kind to you?” Apollo tried to think of one moment, but he couldn’t find a single moment she had been kind where he hadn’t been under a spell. “I tried to help you, though,” she said. “I gave you the potion so that you could start over. Have another chance. I took Jacks’s heart so that he could never love Evangeline. But why do you want to settle with her?”

“And I suppose you’re a much better choice?” Apollo hissed. “A pretty girl who acts all sweet and nice but is actually a manipulative witch.”

“At least I’m trying to help you, which is more than Evangeline can say. Besides, you know just as well as I, Apollo, that it’s all just part of the game.”

The never-ending political game. Apollo swallowed. “So, what- you wish me to marry you instead?” “Why not? I’d make a far better queen than Evangeline. She slipped her hands underneath his collar. Apollo’s heart was fluttering like a hummingbird’s. He’d completely forgotten about the Tree of Souls behind him. “It won’t end well. I’m cursed.”

Aurora laughed under her breath. God, her laugh was so charming. “You’re always getting cursed while I’m always cursing others. We’re the perfect match.” Those pouty lips so close to him were tilted in a tantalizing smile. But it was the bare want in her eyes that gave Apollo pause. As a prince, he was so used to getting everything he wanted; yet the past few months had been anything but. And it seemed that the thing he wanted most, Evangeline, was something he would never get. Evangeline didn’t want him; she wanted a Fate. A monster. It felt so nice to be wanted, especially with the intensity with which Aurora looked at him. Apollo had forgotten the feeling. Aurora bit her lip in anticipation.

Apollo closed the distance between them.

It was pure fireworks. Aurora kissed him so hard it was difficult to breathe. Their tongues danced around each other in a war for dominance. Apollo’s hand moved down to her waist, and he pulled her flush against him. He lazily dragged his lips down her neck before she grabbed his face and pulled his lips back against hers. He was lost in the taste and feel of her when a voice called, “What’s going on.”

It was Wolfric Valor. Apollo hastily shoved Aurora away. “Nothing.”

Wolfric rolled his eyes so hard Apollo could almost taste the derision rippling off of him. But then Wolfric turned to his daughter. “You should’ve known better than to come here.” He turned to his sons. “Take her back to the camp. Her mother and I will deal with her there.”

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Remember to Vet Your Teachers

On my original read of this series, this was my leat favorite book. Not because it's not excellent, thats just where it fell in the overall rankings. On reread though? My appreciation for precisely what this book does and what exactly Joanne learns increased by a factor of ten. Again, undergrad me was doing her best, but she didn't have a lot of patience with the "you screw up catastrophically and you learn better life goes on" lesson. Postdoctoral non-academic me has a lot more patience and appreciation for that, and I've never screwed up so badly it cost two lives and only didn't cost six because I got lucky and have a damn good moral compass when I bother to listen to it. Let's talk Thunderbird Falls.

This is you SPOILER WARNING. Consider yourselves warned.

I don't remember where I read this, bit I remember reading that the first three (original publication)/four (rerelease) Walker Paper books are Joanne's apprentice shaman adventures. I honestly have to say that one thing I forgot (and often still forget) is that part of learning and being a student or apprentice is royally fucking up. You're learning, you make mistakes, that's just life. This book is entirely Joanne making a HUGEASS series of mistakes, but what makes this so human and so in character is that every single one of the mistakes comes from a place of trying. Trying to learn, trying to do better, trying to understand. And thats why when a "teacher" randomly shows up in her garden, Joanne kinda doesn't question it too hard.

The fact that the teacher ended up being a malevolent demigod trying to break into the middle world and cause absolute fucking havoc was honestly just bad luck, and really, who actually EXPECTS their teacher to be from the Black Lagoon?

Unfortunately, Judy says just enough things that bridged Joanne's understanding of shamanism with things she does understand and believe in that Joanne thinks she's finally understanding and making connections, not that she's being led astray.

And when getting caught up in a literal coven reinforces a lot of what Judy is quietly teaching, well...it just reinforces the idea that actually Joanne has found a reliable teacher and is beginning to make progress. There's probably also a lesson in here about how nobody is truly immune to manipulation, because Joanne definitely experiences this.

It starts even before she meets Judy, because Faye Kirkland murders her best friend and drops the body right in front of Joanne, which really kicks off Joanne's intention to search for a teacher, her entanglement with the coven, and her introduction to Colin. And it gets worse, because the moment Joanne runs into something she DOES think to question, Faye gives Gary a heart attack. So Joanne is super off-balance because everything is going to shit, she's caught up in a couple of things she wants to have faith in but can't quite get there, her magic is going absolutely BONKERS, and she can't get ahold of her Coyote.

Oh and to top it all off, the coven sets off a 6.2 earthquake that sends Petite into a crevasse. And honestly, that almost breaks Joanne, because that car is the real-world manifestation of her heart and soul.

So because she is a student shaman and lacks background knowledge and experience, Joanne makes a TON of mistakes, fails to question things that ping the back of her mind, loses Cassandra Tucker and Colin to a demigod, nearly loses Gary and a pregnant Melinda Holliday, and Petite takes a massive wound (although that leads to one of my favorite things in the book, where Joanne is told that her car being in a crevasse has been called in. Dispatch recognizes her car, and Morrison gets hauled out of bed at four am because one of his people is missing. Joanne then goes, "I have no doubt that Morrison would get up to lead the search for a missing officer at 4am. But I didn't think he'd do that for me." Like...GIRL.)

I so deeply appreciate that Joanne can fuck up THIS BADLY, learn from it, and keep going and find happiness. Because honestly? About four different fuckups should have ended either her, the world, or both but they DON'T. She has the opportunity to feel her mistakes, understand the consequences, and then grow. Like, it's not perfect, and things have changed, but she learns and grows and gets to do better tomorrow. And that's a lesson that we have somehow really lost. Students think an A- is the end of the world and a career ender. People think that a single honest mistake on taxes will land your ass in jail for fraud. But the reality is that we make mistakes and we have to live with them, but we also have to grow and change. And I have a lot more appreciation for that at this point in my life than I did when I first read this book.

So that's kind of my biggest takeaway from this reread. Before we wrap this up though, I want to spend a little bit of time with Joanne and her relationships. And we're gonna do headings for this bit, because I'm tired and need a little extra help with structure.

Joanne and Faye

Ok, so Faye Kirkland is...a really interesting case because she is absolutely in the pocket of the bad guy, and that theoretically (as far as Joanne knows) should show up in her magic. But what Joanne doesn't have experience to know is that faith shows up as faith regardless of whether that faith is in a positive, benign figure or a malicious one. And Faye is SUPER under the thumb of Virissong because she has faith in him and what he has told her. So there isn't a big fat red flag to point to. If you trust the look of Faye's power and are too stressed and overwhelmed to look more closely at her words, actions, and the subtle ways she has twined herself around you, then you miss the subtler flashes of red that should have been warnings.

Especially since Faye brings Joanne into the coven by deception at every turn. She doesn't tell Joanne she's inviting her to a coven meeting, and once Joanne agrees to participate, Faye repeatedly does not give her any warning about what coven rituals will entail. Which gets both hilarious and deeply uncomfortable when Faye doesn't tell Joanne that one of the rituals is sexual and Joanne is over here going "HELL NO" and even the guy in the coven who was supposed to participate is like, "Yeah, I gotta agree on hell no." It's really funny on its surface and deeply red flag-y when you think about it.

It gets even more twisted when you find out that Faye killed Cassandra and you remember that Faye was at Cassandra's funeral and was comforting the toddler daughter than Cassandra was taken from. It's so twisted, and it's a really interesting way to complicate faith. Because the thing about faith is that theoretically, it doesn't require proof or evidence, it just is. But blind faith? That's how you get Faye and the truly monstrous things she does. And it's really on the nose that her whole thing is attacking hearts. Literally--she worsens a congenital heart defect to kill Cassandra and gives Gary a heart attack--and figuratively, because Cassandra and Gary are the hearts of other relationships in the book.

I love how complicated Faye makes faith, and everything she teaches Joanne about it.

Joanne and Colin

Colin is a pretty minor character in this book, but what I really want to focus on is how my relationship with him changed on this reread. On my first read, I had lived with asthma for my entire life (still do). I thought I understood what long-term illness does to a mind and heart. I didn't understand why a magical cure sounded better to Colin than working to live. I was a sweet summer child.

Since then, I was diagnosed with RA, and holy cow has my relationship to Colin changed. It's not cancer treatment, but for a while, I was getting medication every two weeks that I was EXTREMELY allergic to. Like I lost track of how many times we had to go to the emergency room and that medication ended in an ICU admit. And I understood Colin's refrain of "it's better than the cancer ward" far better. I still wouldn't take a demigod's deal to get better, but I understand the impulse way more.

That said, understanding the impulse doesn't mean that I love that Colin had to die. It makes sense in the context of the story and the choices he makes, but I don't love it.

Joanne and Virissong

Ok, so THIS MOTHERFUCKER. Virissong is one of the faces that the demigod antagonist wears throughout this book (Judy being the other one), and he is just...evil, frankly. There is arrogance, there is a desire to be worshipped as a hero, and there is a disregard for life that is deeply antithetical to everything that Joanne understands Shamanism to be. Which is why he needs Faye to keep Joanne so distracted, because Joanne understands enough to be able to see if she takes a second. So they don't GIVE her that second.

Virissong also leverages the soft heart Joanne hides from the world, because instead of sharing a memory that would damn him, he pulls the "it's too painful for me to relive, can I tell you instead?" And because Joanne understands that kind of trauma, she rolls with it. And it is nearly too late to defeat him, but Joanne eventually gets there and pulls most of the bacon out of the fire.

Joanne and Morrison

Morrison is...kind of amazing and while I adored him on first read as a romantic interest and just generally good guy, I'm getting way more details on this reread that just amplify how deeply amazing he is, and how human he is. Possibly my favorite Morrison quote from this book is this one:

"I don't like what you can do at all. But I like you setting yourself up for the sucker punch even less. It's degrading, and you're better than that. I won't tolerate it."

Morrison doesn't like magic, he doesn't like mystical stuff. But none of that is as important as Joanne respecting herself and her abilities. Seriously, this man.

This is also the book where Morrison finds out that there is more to Joanne Walker than her records say--she tells him her full name, knowing full well that he's going to go away and do a background check because that's a LOT to hide from someone. That's an extension of trust that was hard for her to give, but it is another small step in getting the two of them together.

Joanne and Gary

We LOVE Gary in this house. Gary is the best. Gary did not deserve a heart attack, but it does mean that Joanne gets to give him a tortoise to look out for him, and those are an amazing few scenes that do come back in later books in some awesome ways. I also love that this is where we see that Gary has adopted Joanne as the daughter of his heart. She's listed as his next of kin, they're functionally family, and Gary is here to support Joanne and have a kickass time doing it. It's honestly just that simple and that amazing.

[whitalis]

faeriedreamer:

Dean had been standing outside of Rose’s door for a good five minutes already, done watching her and Alex have lunch. He had come for a reason even though it had been eight months since they’d seen or talked to each other last, but neither of them had stopped thinking about the other. They had always been so close and yet so far, and it was about time that Dean finally opened up to her as much as she had opened up to him, no matter the cost to herself.

Upon hearing the knock on the door, Rose got up from the dining room table and went to open up the door. She was surprised to see Dean standing on her doorstep, but at the same time she couldn’t deny the familiar wanting tug on her heartstrings. Rose had only walked away because no matter how much they meant to each other, she and Dean always seemed to put hunting first and after losing Dean so many times to death and demons, she just couldn’t handle it all anymore…even when without him she almost hurt just as much.

“Dean…what brings you here?” Rose asked him softly, the smile still on her face.

Dean smiled back and then looked at his feet and took a deep breath. “I, uh…I just came because I needed to tell you something—for old time’s sake.”

“Okay…” Rose replied with a soft laugh, “what is it?”

Dean hadn’t expected the moment to come and make him feel like just shutting his mouth and walking away. She’d taken that door to their relationship and shut it tight, making Dean realize that life without her wasn’t the kind of life that he wanted, but it was the kind of life that she deserved—she deserved someone who would put her and her wants and needs first, and he knew he couldn’t do that. Still, the fact that she was willing to talk to him and actually looked happy to see him, made him think that there was still a chance, and that he really needed to actually get out what he came to say.

“I just wanted you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me since we met—everything you’ve done for Sam and even Adam…I just…I’m not used to someone else caring so much about my family.” Dean admitted, looking up and meeting her warm eyes with his own.

Rose smiled more and nodded slowly. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Dean…I know what it’s like to care about family—I have Alex, remember? She’s my baby bird.”

“Yeah…” Dean replied nodding, “that little sister of yours is lucky to have you. I, uh…I didn’t come here to talk about them, though, I came because we hardly ever see each other and I know that’s my fault, but there’s a lot of stuff going down right now and just in case something happens to me, you need to know how I feel.”

“About…what, exactly?” Rose asked him softly, swallowing as he took her hands in his and ran his thumbs along them.

Dean looked down at her hands and watched as she took a step closer to him, looking up at her and then leaning in. At first she thought that he was going to kiss her, but instead he rested his lips on her left temple and he kissed her there softly, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of cucumber melon on her hair. He was going to miss her, and he knew he couldn’t wait around to talk this out with her, but he had to say it, and he was sorry that he was dumping this on her, but for the first time in their lives he was going to be truthful…he was going to admit that as teenagers she had forced her way into his heart and she’d always been in there even when he’d told her she wasn’t.

“I love you.” Dean whispered in her ear, his lips grazing her earlobe. “It’s you.”

With that he pulled away, only taking in the shock and sadness and relief on her face for a moment before he was heading towards the Impala parked just outside the house. Rose watched as he walked away and felt her heart pounding away in her chest, knowing the ‘I love you’ was as intimate as she and Dean were ever going to be—it was more intimate than any of the sex they’d had in the past, or the chats about their late parents or their understanding of what it was like to raise their younger sibling…this was serious and he meant it. Watching him turn the engine over and pull out, driving away for maybe forever, Rose felt like her heart had officially shattered.

“I love you too.” She whispered, wishing he’d stayed to hear her say it back.

(This is just a flashback scene I wrote for mine and Monique’s new and still untitled SPN fic that we’re writing that’s super angsty and kind of SPN S5/S6 the way we want it to be…I wasn’t going to post the whole scene, but I just loved it too much and wanted to share.)

Coming Soon to an Internet Near You

[bepp-ers]

yknow what? we need more yandere obey me in here. here are some headcanons for living with the yandere brothers!! requests are always open! <3

headcanons and general thoughts for yandere! obey me! swd? part 1 - brothers. gonna do a part 2 for dateables, will link here when done

When you first arrived in the Devildom, you weren't expecting the brothers to be like this at all.

Sure, as demons, they weren't gonna act like people, but this? This was just too much.

The first to... fall for you was Mammon, obviously. He was clingy, and almost treated you like a trophy.

It was a bit cute, at first.

"Look how cute me 'n MC look! We got matching sunglasses!!" would turn into "I was MC's first, ya know - Pretty sure they value me above you!"

It was a downward spiral. But that was only a slice of your problematic pie.

This lead you to Leviathan. Oh, insecure little Levi who - if you hadn't seen it for yourself first hand - you would think couldn't harm a fly.

Apparently, he needed you more than you needed yourself. You'd thought he was sweet, with his insecurities and all that.

Nope. He was way too clingy, always wanting you by his side.

He was worse than Mammon, and between the two of them you weren't entirely sure how you were going to cope.

Still, despite the uneasiness that befell you whenever you were in his prescence, he certainly wasn't the worst.

Beel came afterwards, seemingly hungry for food and your company.

Maybe it was because you saved his twin, or that you were always there to help him, but the guy fell and he fell hard.

He had an appetite, and be it eating your cooking, working out with you filming, or napping with you sandwiched between himself and Belphie, he was never satisfied.

He needed to be around you, and he wanted to protect you at all costs.

You were only a little human compared to him, he just wanted to keep you safe. And to keep you around him at all times, if that's what it took.

Moving swiftly on, you thought of Asmo who was almost as obsessed with you as he was himself.

Actually, that might be the other way around if you thought about it.

The guy initially didn't think you'd last a single week, and now he couldn't stop pestering you to spend every moment of every day with him.

Of course, though he couldn't spend all his time with you, he could dictate a lot of your life for you.

What should have been relaxing time to yourself was now dreadful, fearful horror to avoid at all costs. So handsy... sometimes, when you closed your eyes, you could still feel those slender fingers.

It was uncomfortable at best, and sickening to think about. He can't help it though, he protests, he just loves everything about you!!

To add to the ever-growing list, Satan knew just about everything there was to know about you.

"Knowledge is power," He had told you, and apparently this guy was pretty powerful.

It was almost as though he could see into your mind, he knew what you wanted before you could even think about it. It infuriated you, to the point where you'd begun to question whether you were truly alone in the safety of your own room.

He assured that, of course, it was nothing special, he just liked gathering information.

But something about the letters he left said otherwise...

The penultimate brother was, of course, the slothful Belphie.

A small mercy, you supposed, was how forward he was with his feelings.

He expressed on numerous occasions that, if given the chance, then he'd live with you and Beel and everything would be perfect.

And when you lay there at night, dark hair tickling your neck, leathery tail pinning you closer to him, you knew exactly how bad things were.

There really was no helping it, you were his saviour after all, having freed him from that attic and reunited him with his brothers.

Oh- and he did technically kill you, so he had to make it up for you! By showing you all this love, surely you'd realise how much he loved you?

And how much he appreciated you? He sure had a weird way of showing it, though, keeping you all to himself the way he did.

Worst of all, though, had to be Lucifer. He was powerful and he knew it, with an ego that was indescribably inflated, he treated you almost as property.

You couldn't get away- his word was like law. The only demon above him was Diavolo, and well, you wouldn't be receiving help from him anytime soon.

Life here was hell, which checked out considering as this was quite literally hell.

There is no escape. There is no refuge, or help to be found anywhere. You're stuck, so make the most of it! It's all you can do.

[seasidepierre]

pull me back to you | part 3 | pierre gasly

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS MASTERLIST

teaser - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

summary: You and Pierre dove head first into a brand new dynamic between the two of you, but how are you adapting to it?

warnings: enough fluff to literally drown you and a little bit of steam to bother you.

words count: 4.6k

a/n: This took way longer than I intended to and truth be told, I’m the worst at editing my own stuff so it might still be a bit rough at some points but hey!! YOU DESERVED THIS ONE!! Thank you for sticking with me for so long, I hope you’ll like Pierre as much as I do in this part, but if you’re looking for me, I’ll be looking for a boyfriend bc damn do I need one after this.

Truth be told, it’s not like you didn’t know that Pierre’s life was hectic and that a break wasn’t really ever a break. You’d been a member of the very tight club called “Pierre’s close friends” for quite a while now, almost your entire life, actually, so you knew what it entailed. When he wasn’t racing inside a car, you could be sure he was racing somewhere anyway. His entire life was dictated by speed, by pace, by time that he always lacked. So even though he was supposed to be on a break, you could tell that he was stressing about some meeting, about a sim test he was supposed to do, about a call with his engineering team that clearly didn’t go as planned or whatever was going through his pretty head at that time. If there wasn’t a race to win, there surely was somewhere to hurry to.

Which probably was why you were surprised to have Pierre lay in bed with you every morning, dragging your body closer to his. You hadn’t expected the absolute patience he showed in his fingertips when they drew the contour of your hips or the composure of his lips when they spoke silent words on yours. Pierre might be running everywhere, but he took his time when it came to you and you were discovering a brand new Pierre that you had never seen before.

When you left Pierre’s childhood house that particular day, he had kissed his mother on the cheek and tried to wiggle out of her embrace. Five seconds was the absolute max he stood there, letting her envelop him in her arms. As soon as he had felt like it was enough, he had slipped through her hands like water. He had always been. An occasional hand on a shoulder or a forearm was enough to sense him tense underneath your touch and even though some guys in your friends group had no problem enveloping you in a hug, Pierre had never done that. He had never touched your face, even just to grab a fallen eyelash, like some other guys might have done in the past. Pierre wasn’t a tactile guy and you were fine with it. There was no way to trap Pierre into contact when he clearly didn’t want to and that is why it had been such a surprise for you to be able to cuddle with him in bed or on the couch or pretty much everywhere, without him trying to shimmy his way out. But Pierre had been patient. He had taken the time. Every gesture, every action, had been deliberately slow, as if he wanted to truly enjoy them while he was there. You knew Pierre to be a generally speed-driven person, but slow and intentional Pierre was someone you’d so clearly fallen in love with head first, you weren’t sure how you’d survive if he came to disappear.

The keyring on the side of your door was now matched with a second one. Yours was still sporting the Chanel keychain that Pierre had gifted you many, many years ago, but the second one was adorned with a Louis Vuitton wrist strap that matched Pierre’s backpack. Nothing fancy, just a leather strip with the LV logo on it. The fact that you thought it was pretty plain and simple made you want to slap yourself. That damn thing cost half of your monthly rent. This was a splurge and you had no idea when exactly your best friend from elementary school turned into a diva that had a keychain with a price tag involving three numbers. 

But that Louis Vuitton keychain meant that Pierre had the keys to enter your space. He had his own key to your flat. He could come and go as he pleased, he could join you when he wanted, he could use your space as his own. He could be with you, plain and simple. You hadn’t really offered him a key but as the first couple of days rolled by with him staying at your apartment rather than going back to his parents’, you knew that he needed to lock the door behind him. So you just came back home one evening with a second key you had got made in the city and presented it to him with a simple “So that you can go to the gym without having me worried if my TV will still be on the wall when I come back”.

Pierre had insisted on coming and spending a few nights with you after what you both named “the incident”. There was no way you could refer to it as anything else without wanting to curl up on yourself and Pierre’s blood boiled every time your dumbass ex was mentioned. He wanted to make sure you had someone to protect you in case said-ex showed up at your door. This was the excuse he gave to his parents when they asked why he was leaving the family house, at least. And knowing Pierre, it wasn’t an excuse, but the complete truth. 

In the entire week Pierre spent living in your space, he had been so possessive it could have been hilarious if it wasn’t making a mess of your mind, your heart and your body. Every time you’d walk past him would be the perfect opportunity to let his hands wander and find a path to your skin. Cooking dinner? Pierre’s arms would be on your stomach, his head on your shoulder and his chest so tight against your back it must be uncomfortable for him regarding your height difference. Brushing your teeth? No need to check yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t anyway, since he was hellbent on facing you, your ass stuck on the edge of the sink and his free hand on your hip. Watching TV? Serious reason to cuddle on the couch. Reading a book? You could do that sitting between his thighs.

For a guy who easily felt overwhelmed, Pierre sure crowded you a lot. And you loved it. You knew you were in your “honeymoon phase” and you knew one day Pierre would take a step back, but for the time being, you happily basked in his embrace and warmth, as long as he was there to hold your hand. Or hold you, period. He had developed a strange (but cute) fascination for bridal style carrying and you weren’t sure what you did to deserve such an amazing guy in your love life right now. 

But here you were, sitting on the cathedral’s forecourt, your sundress softly whirling with the breeze, enjoying the sun while you could, while Pierre was sitting next to you, a hat and dark sunglasses on, wishing he could maybe, just maybe, blend into the background or look like a tourist. 

Truth be told, he pretty much did, but he also looked really hot so who were you to tell him anything but that?

Pierre had taken advantage of your day off in the middle of the week to drag you outside, on the first sunny day Rouen had known in a week or so. You two had walked aimlessly in the old streets, enjoying the warmth and the gold light, even though Pierre had insisted on buying you a box of the tea you liked so much because it was the perfect companion for your reading escapades. You stopped at one point to sit on the terrace of a bar to enjoy a cold drink, though you did choose to add lemonade to your grenadine while he asked to add beer instead. You cheered like a couple of dumbasses and drank your glasses while talking about the weather, your families and what you were going to do when you’ll be back at your place. But after an hour or so, Pierre needed to move again, because God helped this man if he wasn’t on the move, so you took back his hand in yours and dragged him to a candy store, even though he wasn’t allowed to have sugar. He helped you fill your bag with all your favourite ones, including the violet sweets that you loved so much and that he knew where to find directly when he arrived in the store, which kind of blew you away. When you looked at him with raised eyebrows, he just shrugged, though his neck tinted in the most adorable pink hue you could have seen on his skin. You couldn’t help but drop a kiss there, raising on your tiptoes so that your lips could meet the side of his throat. 

Since you weren’t that far from the ice cream parlour, Pierre offered to get you one of those roses made of ice cream which made you giggle. The same chain of ice cream was present in Milan and he was happy to see that a shop had opened in his native city as well, linking the two with a silly bond that only he could appreciate. He got a simple scoop in a little cardboard cup and you two went back the other way, hands linked together even though it meant he had to wait to eat while you were happily diving into yours. Which explains why you were now sitting on the little steps in front of the cathedral, enjoying the view that Claude Monet painted in 30 different versions following the way the Sun hit on its glorious facade. Your tongue was now the same rosy colour as your raspberry ice cream while Pierre was taking advantage of the little wooden spoon he’d got to enjoy his passionfruit dessert. The little strap of your sundress kept sliding down your shoulder, which Pierre patiently replaced every time, but on his last attempt, he had leaned down to drop his ice-cream-cold lips on your shoulder even though his kiss was soft and warm. You smiled behind your own sunglasses, wishing you could kiss him right now, but your raspberry rose was quickly melting and you didn’t want an audience. 

“I didn’t think I’d be this happy during my break,” Pierre sighed, dropping the now empty cup on his side and leaning back on his hands. 

“I’m glad you’re having a nice time,” You smiled.

“This is all thanks to you,” He affirmed, not looking at you. “I should’ve got my head on straight ages ago. We lost so much time..” 

“We did not. We were growing up, each on our side, to become exactly what we both needed of each other,” You reassured him. 

“Are you as happy as I am?” He inquired, finally turning back to you. “Do you feel that warmth in your chest like I do?”

“Everytime I look at you,” You nodded, with a grin on your lips. “I couldn’t be happier,” You sighed with content, leaning your head on his shoulder while his arm wrapped itself around your middle.

“Do you want to go out for dinner tonight? My treat, of course.”

“Is this a date?” You giggled.

“It can be, if you want it to be.”

“Then it’s a date. It’s almost six, bring me back home and I’ll get ready.”

“Are you going to change?” He almost whined.

“I did sweat quite a bit in this dress,” You cringed.

“Then I want you to put on another dress. And maybe those shoes with the little platforms and the laces that wrap around your ankles? Please?”

“Demanding, I see..” You laughed. “I sure hope you’ll wear that baby blue linen shirt I saw in your suitcase, then.”

“Anything for you.”

And because your life had turned into a cliché that you were too willing to see play out completely, Pierre grabbed your arms and wrapped them around his neck, bending his knees to grab your thighs from behind so he could give you a piggyback ride to your apartment.

*

It took you about two hours getting ready, which involved taking a shower, lie in your bed in your bathrobe for about 45 mins after that during which Pierre was lazily drawing circles on your shoulder while aimlessly scrolling down on his Instagram feed and then about an hour to actually do your makeup and put on your dress. You did have to give Pierre that. Not that you would always be compliant with his demands, especially regarding your clothes, but you couldn’t refuse his little face when he’d asked you for a dress. So you put on your nicest dress, a navy blue floral dress, hitting you just at knee level, with a decent V line cleavage that exposed just enough to feel like you were pretty without having to care if you were about to show everything. You did wear the shoes he had also asked for, because you were seriously impressed he even knew you possessed them. How carefully had he been watching you the last couple of years without you realising it?

Pierre had respected his end of the deal. He was sporting the baby blue linen shirt you had eyed in his suitcase, which you were extremely happy about, even though your entire body felt like bursting into flames. He had paired it with beige pants and a pair of loafers that you didn’t even know he was even capable of wearing. He looked amazing and without even realising, you had managed to match his outfit. 

“Looking good, Monsieur Gasly,” You smiled, sliding your arms around his middle before loving yourself against his chest.

“And you’re gorgeous, as always,” He nodded before dropping a gentle kiss on your lips. “Are you ready for dinner?”

“Absolutely! Where are you taking me?”

“There’s a restaurant I’ve been wanting to try, in town, I thought our date was the perfect occasion for it.”

“I like that you’re taking me on an adventure with you and that you didn’t wrack your brains to find something just for me.”

“Everyday’s an adventure, with you,” He grinned against your lips.

The height difference between you and Pierre wasn’t that bad when you were wearing heels, which was one of the reasons why you started wearing heels pretty early. You recalled tiny you, gladly accepting hand-me-downs from your mother, especially that pair of black little boots with the tiny heels but it still made you taller and closer to Pierre’s face, so you were happy about it. A solid eight inches separated you from him, Pierre having known a growth spurt when he was in Le Mans, studying away from you. He always laughed when he came back to Rouen, finding you still smaller than him. Still adorably tiny. 

Pierre’s chosen restaurant was not that far from where you lived, about a ten minutes walk only and he wouldn’t have dared drive there. Mainly because parking was going to be a nightmare, but also because he enjoyed your strolls in the city that saw you growing up. It was peaceful and nostalgic but also exhilarating and thrilling at the same time. The streets looked the same as always but held a different tint as his hand encased yours. 

You sat at a table outside and ordered what seemed to be the tastied option. You dove into your pasta with a moan about how good it was while Pierre was enjoying his salad, even though he sure eyed your pasta every once in a while, to which you slid his glass of water on the side so you could push your plate in the middle of the table. He stole a couple of pennes when you pretended to look away, making you laugh in the process. Double win for Monsieur Gasly. 

Your foot kept gently caressing his calf, turning the tip of his ears blush pink. You hid behind your glass of rosé and he turned a blind eye to the adventures of your little toes against his pants. 

“I know I said it already but you look really nice tonight,” He smiled again. 

His face was bathed by golden lightbulbs, hanging from a pergola above your heads. The little flicks of lights reverberated into his eyes, bringing warmth to the ice blue you were facing every time he looked at you. 

“I really want to kiss you,” You sighed.

“You’re very welcome to do so,” His lips crooked in his signature little smirk that made you weak in the knees (and a couple of other places).

You leaned above the table, inviting him to do just the same and met right in the middle, his hand coming to cup your chin between his thumb and index. He stole a couple of extra kisses “for the effort” and ordered a chocolate cake for dessert that you would share. You grinned at him, knowing this was going to turn into another secret you’d have to hide if his trainer Pyry ever asked. Not that you knew the guy much, behind the occasional chats and the fact that he was following you on Instagram. But because you were no stranger to nostalgia, you handed your phone to Pierre and asked him if he could snap a picture of you two.

“First date memorabilia?” He smirked.

“Stop laughing at me, I like keeping memories!”

“I’ll grab a card from the restaurant when we’ll leave,” He promised, dragging your chair closer to him so you’d be next to each other instead of face to face. 

“That would be nice, thanks.”

“I know you’ll store it in your memory box,” He whispered, his nose now gently sliding against yours. “I wonder how many things in that box are related to me.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You mocked him. 

“Tell me.. How much of me is in that box? How much did you grab fiercely and store in your memory box, refusing to let go of? How many pieces of me have you jealously kept for yourself, in the hope that one day you’d have enough to rebuild me entirely?”

“Maybe too much,” You blushed.

“How does it feel to know that you didn’t have to do that? That you already had me in the palm of your hand? That I always knew I belonged to you, just like you did to me?”

“Take me home, Pierre,” You whispered.

You weren’t sure when exactly Pierre pressed the shutter on your screen but the picture he had managed to capture was the most perfect representation of what your date had been. You were lost in each other’s eyes, a hunger visible on your lips while Pierre’s arm had sneaked around your back and yours had circled his shoulders. Merely inches apart, your faces glowed with adoration for the other and with the romantic lights strung above your heads.

You didn’t stay long after dessert. Pierre took care of the bill, adamant that he could pay for your meal since he had been crashing at your place for about a week now, using your water and eating your food. Like he promised, he came back with a business card of the restaurant that you’d slip into your memory box, among all the other Pierre memorabilia that you had collected over the years.

There was something magical in his eyes about you, walking in the streets he knew so well, both of you so grown up. You were laughing about something he had just said and your smile seemed to light up the whole street. The lampposts reflected on your cheeks and in your eyes; you shone like the first ray of sunshine piercing through the cloudy skies. He let you take the lead, for once not caring about the fact that he was slower than someone else. Being behind you meant he could look at you, look at that cute little dress you had chosen that he thought you would look even better without, look at your happy skipping, your handbag balancing at the end of your arm before he took it from you so you could be free of your movements. 

He might look the silliest, with your purse in hand, but he couldn’t care less if that meant hearing your giggles in the streets and watching you dance in the middle of the night buzz of the city, without caring too much about your range of movements. Last time had already proven to be harsh on his heart, but you were shocked by your encounter with your ex and he was too mad to actually realise it, but the light reflecting on the cobblestones created the perfect ambiance for you to really be highlighted as you deserved to be.

The minute you pushed the door of your flat open, Pierre’s hands went to your hips, crashing his body into yours, pushing you two together, as close as he could. His lips attached to the little patch of skin behind your ear that turned you into jelly in his hands but he had sneaked an arm around your stomach and was acting like your spine itself, managing to keep you upright when your knees threatened to slip on the floor. His smirk printed itself onto your skull, ready to devour you if you let him do so, which you would if he wanted to. The light wasn’t even on but the soft glow of the sunset peered through a window, casting a single shadow on the wall behind you, softly rocking from left to right, even though Pierre was the one doing all the work.

“Please tell me I didn’t misread your comment earlier, about taking you back home,” He groaned in your ear. “Please tell me this is what you had in mind.”

You hummed in response, your hand flying backward to grab at the back of his head, inviting him to taste your neck and throat and collarbone and whatever he wanted, as long as you got enough kisses that you’d still feel drunk on them in the morning. His hair wasn’t particularly soft, but you were adamant that you wouldn’t have had it any other way. You kinda missed blonde-highlights Pierre, but brunette Pierre was just as pretty in your eyes. His perfume was seriously intoxicating and as he dropped open kisses on your skin, you felt the little gap between his front teeth, one of your favourite things about Pierre, grazing your neck and sending you already way too far into this. You weren’t sure where his hands were going, but you were happy to report that one was still stuck to your stomach, rubbing soothing circles with a thumb, while the other had been busy pushing your hair back on the opposite shoulder from the one he was currently peppering with kisses. Your breath got caught in your throat, while your attention and focus were trapped in Pierre’s hands. You were at his mercy and you couldn’t be happier about it. 

“Use your words, Princess,” He groaned again against your skin. “Tell me what I’m allowed to do.”

“Anything. Everything. Pierre, please,” You sighed, closing your eyes, basking in his embrace for as long as you could. 

“Your dress would look cuter on the floor.”

“I agree.”

Pierre took his time to unzip the back of your dress, appreciating the view of your back and dragging the pulp of his index finger along the rim of it, from your neck to the middle of your spine. The shivers that followed the tip of his fingers felt like a fire spreading from your head to your stomach, but Pierre’s hands slipped on your shoulders, underneath your dress, pushing each side down and freeing your arms in the process. Barely grazing the skin on the inside of your arms, he traced his way back to your chest, pushing his nose in the little space between your two collarbones and dropping a kiss there. Your dress pooled at your feet in a ruffle of fabric, creating a little halo on the floor that you stepped out of, pushed by Pierre’s chest on your back. His hands had found a kneading spot on your hips that he was yet to leave, making you purr underneath his touch. 

“Bedroom, Pierre,” You sighed.

“That was the plan, Princess.”

“Stop calling me ‘princess’, I don’t like it,” You explained, in a very short moment of lucidity.

“Understood, my queen.”

You nodded, not quite sure how the promotion in your royalty status could create such a mess in your body, but it did. There was no hurry to find the door of your bedroom, but a certain hunger was palpable and you couldn’t wait to find the comforting touch of your bed sheets, knowing full well what was about to happen. Sensing your train of thoughts, Pierre took a second to stop and drop the words that could have ended everything but just convinced you even more that it was exactly what you wanted and needed.

“Say the word at any point and I’ll stop, okay?”

Bracing for the impact, Pierre waited for you to pull the plug. He would stop if you weren’t comfortable, if you needed more time, if you just weren’t in the mood. But to his surprise, you turned between his arms, sneaking yours around his neck and raising on your tiptoes to reach his lips. 

“Thank you,” You whispered, against his mouth. 

Pierre nodded, reassured. There was any more second to lose, so he pushed you backward gently while you landed on your bed in a thump but giggling like a teenager. Your navy blue lingerie set was enough to make him stop dead in his tracks, now that you were spread on your bed in front of his eyes, waiting for him, wanting him, needing him. 

“Damn,” He let out. 

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget how stunning you look, right now.”

The blush creeping on your cheek migrated to your chest, which kind of made him even weaker. But he reverently kneeled on the bed, hovering you with an arm on each side of your head, lowering only to steal a kiss or two before his mouth glided on your chest like a stream of water. 

Being with Pierre made every sense. It felt right and a perfect match, which was more than you could say about your past relationships. You trusted him with your life and you actually knew he was full of good intentions only. For the first time in forever, you felt like you were taken care of, especially while in bed. And you sure hoped to God he would deliver, because you were sick and tired of having to nod and say it was great, when you hadn’t finished, because your needs apparently didn’t matter as much as theirs. 

“Where?” He breathed out, between two kisses. 

You instantly knew what he meant and propped a drawer open, blinding trusting your abilities to find the little know to slide it open. He rummaged through it without too much care, not that you had any apprehension about him going through your stuff but you suddenly remembered what was inside that drawer and maybe you could have waited a bit before he found out about that. 

Which he did, of course, because Pierre was like that, anyway. You hadn’t been able to keep a lot of secrets with Pierre. He had to know everything, all the time. So when his hand has met a particular baby purple item in the bottom of your drawer, his eyebrows had come together in the most intrigued way. 

“What..?”

“Not now, Pierre, it can wait. I can’t,” You whined.

“Demanding,” He laughed. “Alright, then.”

And maybe it was the years of pining, maybe it was because it was Pierre, maybe it was because you had an actual connection to the person above you or maybe it was just a combination of everything, but for the first time in forever, you saw stars and fell asleep feeling numb, spent, broken in a lot of tiny pieces but glued back with care and love, with pure light pouring through the cracks.

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