#can you believe i got interrupted multiple times answering this. AT FIVE IN THE MORNING.

[majorasnightmare]

1, 37, 45 for dirge?

every time someone else wants to watch me beat content out of dirge pinata style, an angel gets their wings 💜 thank u anon for helping me bruise his ribs uwu

1. What’s the lie your character says most often?

Stretching the definition of "says" here to mean "concept conveyed to another person", the lie Dirge peddles the most often is that he's a trustworthy compassionate individual. He isn't keen to act as such around his friends, because he loves them enough to be genuine, and in his Bhaalist days it was an effort unbecoming of his station. This usually means that in private, he comes off as a deeply weird murderous individual only barely constrained by social decorum because thats what he is. The failing is in assuming that this is the ONLY way he's capable of being.

Dirge is exceptionally proficient in putting on a performance of himself as charming, pleasant, down to earth, defanged and harmless. He'll keep some general eccentricities because they can be used to accent that performance, and an element of genuineness makes the deception go down smoother, and this is a skillset he honed in his years of being an utterly cracked nihilistic death priest who otherwise seemed incapable of basic normal pleasantries like smiling warmly. Its easier NOW than its ever been before, but his lethality hasn't lost even a whisper of its deadly edge. He plays this performance whenever he feels it benefits him, primarily when expecting to interact with someone and get something useful out of them multiple times, where he isn't invested enough in their personhood to go to the effort of being both friendly AND sincere. In this regard, seeing him shift to being openly more unhinged towards someone he otherwise does not care about should be perceived in the manner of a dangerous animal dropping its camoflauge to start flashing bright venemous colors: *I am capable of killing you and I no longer need to hide that from you*.

When it comes to strangers, his honesty is far more dangerous than the well crafted lies.

37. What’s a secret they haven’t told serious romantic partners and don’t plan to tell?

It ended up coming out anyways to Minthara, but Dirge was deeply, viscerally terrified of Bhaal and the influence the god held over his actions, his safety, and his personhood. His experiences with the Urge throughout Act 1 and the party's reactions to them resolidified a compulsion he struggled with for most of his life as a Bhaalist: these are his problems and his issues and to bring them to others awareness or to ask for help is a moral failing he needs to atone for through suffering, and if he struggles to conquer them on his own, that simply means he was just weak. When his relationship with Minthara properly starts in Act 2, Dirge had found a comfortable position where he felt in control of himself and capable of handling the Urge's semi regularly, and had begun making his peace with his new life as an amnesiac who most likely wasn't going to recollect the person he used to be. Its from that foundation that he romances Minthara, and it's that foundation thats rocked to its core when he tries to kill her in the night and then discovers hes a bhaalspawn, both of those occurrences happening shortly after hunting Ketheric to the depths of Moonrise Towers and discovering what had happened to him in the mindflayer colony below. Because Minthara joined after that habit had been established, but hadn't seen it be triggered, she wasn't in a position to address it and stop that mindset from fully taking root, so when Dirge is blasted by these multiple sources of trauma and stress, he clams up completely, with zero intention of informing anyone beyond information they need to stay safe from him

Dirge keeps secret every private fear, every personal act of violation inflicted on him by Bhaal (he gets the heart stop dialogue from the chapel), every nauseating Urge, until it draws someone else into the line of fire, and even then he emphasizes that he's going to be the one to work on it and he's going to be the one to fix it. With Minthara, the compulsion feels even sharper because Dirge is well aware that Minthara values independence and self sufficiency, so in addition to not wanting to risk her safety, there's the addition of not wanting to come off as weak willed or powerless, even if thats how he feels. If Dirge had it his way, he'd never confess those secret anxieties, he'd just try to handle it himself until it either got fixed, or stabilized into something he could suffer through regularly.

Its probably for the best he isn't allowed to do that, for him and for Minthara

45. What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

I answered this one already here! But i'll try for a second one 🤔

I think something completely stupid that drives Dirge up the wall is people presuming a lack of knowledge in him without any indication of it. Its one thing if Dirge professes not to know something and then for that to be assumed to continue to be true, because his sporadic recollection isn't particularly reliable or predictable, so even if he recalls knowledge *later* he still understands someone assuming otherwise since he's given them reason to think so.

Right out the gate though? Oh fuuuuuck you. Every time Gale opened his mouth about being the magic expert, presuming Dirge had nothing to contribute to the discussion, Dirge seethed hard enough im sure it had a visible aura. Gale only tried that twice, and then wisely stopped rocking THAT boat.

[gucciwins]

The First Kiss

Harry and Y/N go on their first date...will they finally become something more?

Word count: 4814

A/N: I know how much you all love breakout room and the follow up it's your birthday. I love writing them and it's been a while but do know they are doing well. this is nothing but sweet fluff. I do mention the vaccine and wearing masks which I hope you all are doing. it's important to stay safe and truly wish nothing but the best for you all. I love you xxx

please reblog and let me know your thoughts

_____

“Are you feeling good? I sent over a goodie basket.”

Harry giggled, loving how concerned you were. “I’m doing good, baby.” He sees you tuck your head into your sweater smiling, when he notices it’s the one he sent you in a goodie basket after you got your second shot of the vaccine.

It’s spring break, and Harry can finally say he is officially vaccinated after letting the mandated two weeks pass. It’s perfect timing, honestly, as he has been itching to finally see you in person again.

Your university let you know that they would begin to have vaccine dates open to students through an email that you quickly forwarded to Harry. You had to register to get a date for your first vaccine, and slots were filling up fast. You shot Harry multiple texts telling him what day you got and time, but you went without an answer for an hour which is weird, seeing as Harry never liked to leave you waiting more than five minutes.

By the time he got back to you, he had to wait two weeks, unlike you, who would be getting in only three days. You asked why he didn’t answer, and he said he was in class. You frowned because even then, he always answered. He then confessed he lost his phone in his apartment and didn’t have time to search for it.

You laughed about it, but he was disappointed because he wanted to see you. To give you a hug. To hold your hand.

After spending his birthday together, you both decided against meeting in person for safety even though you both wanted to, more than anything. You postponed your date to the future. Instead, you completed the group assignment through zoom meetings that led to facetime calls. After submitting the project and learning that you aced the assignment, well, you both caved in.

Harry gushed on how he always got B’s on the professor’s assignments, and to celebrate, he sent you a dozen cupcakes from the bakery that you never stop raving about located only three blocks from where you live. Then proceeded to call him over to celebrate and who was he to say no. Harry was shocked at how rich and full of flavor they were because he wasn’t aware it was vegan. Yet, it tasted better than anything he ever had. Harry realized why it was your favorite, promising to take you there in person to have your pick of favorites and not only red velvet and carrot cake because they were safe choices.

You couldn’t say you’ve been on a proper date with Harry, but you’d like to count all the zoom calls and facetime calls as dates not that you let Harry know it would only inflate his ego. You’d start a call to ask a question on assignments, and it would lead to sharing stories back and forth of what their favorite book was to where they would visit if they could go that very second. You loved how insightful he was, also liked how he used pastel highlighters to mark his annotations. Harry was a fan of how you always had a pencil in your hair or behind your ear. How you always had a snack on hand because you didn’t want to listen to professors without something to eat or you’d lose focus.

You were glad you’d be able to get together safely but also taking all the needed precautions. Safety is hot, as Harry liked to say all the time when you sent him photos of you wearing your masks.

“Yeah, like the basket?”

Harry grins, but it’s not as bright due to the lacking pixels of your laptop. He holds it up, having placed it in his lap. “I did love the bath bombs.”

You smile back at him, “Going to change your life. Self-care is important, bub. Even in the smallest ways as a bath.”

Harry nods, “I know, baby. The reason I remember to take deep breaths each morning, no longer eager to reach for my phone.”

“Proud of you.”

“And I of you, baby.”

Harry shines his dimples at you when you turn your head away at the sweet name he started calling you a few weeks ago. You adored it, honestly, but it always left you feeling flustered.

“H, please.”

“Baby, I like seeing you flustered.”

“You’re a menace.”

He shrugs, still giggling.

“How are Mitch and Sarah?”

“Wonderful, sickly in love as always. Spend their time at Sarah’s like composing together.”

“That’s sweet.” You lean in, smiling at him, “you know we should all hang out together. I get to meet Mitch properly and see Sarah again, and you’ll get to meet Amy.” You grow excited at the thought.

“Not before I get to see you.”

“H, we got to coordinate a day that works for all of us. No need to get jealous.”

“Not jealous.”

“Sure,” you reply sarcastically.

“Got to learn to share me with Amy. I cook her lunch and dinner; otherwise, she’d be nothing but a walking cadaver.”

“I want you to make me lunch and dinner,” he pouts.

“I can now that you’ve vaxxed.”

“That I am, so you are.”

“Yes,” you’re waiting for him to go on.

“Will you go on a date with me? Think we waited long enough, and if my feelings weren’t obvious enough, I like you and really want to take you out.” he rambles on.

You interrupt him knowing fully well he could go on for days, “I’d love to, Harry.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Great. Friday then.”

“I’m free.”

“I know, know your schedule by heart.”

“Creep,” you gasp at the news.

“Shush, like you don’t have my classes added to your planner.” Your turn to pout.

“I like knowing your schedule, and they overlap.”

“I do too. Look forward to your messages every day between classes.”

“So Friday? What are you planning?”

“A picnic.”

You jump up in excitement, causing your laptop to fall back on your bed before you dive to save it. Harry yelling dramatically in the background as if you just dropped him.

“H, be quiet. You’re fine.”

“Dropped me, darling.”

“Dork.”

He mutters something in return, but you can’t hear him.

“So I’ll prepare lunch because you’ve told me once or twice that you’re hopeless in the kitchen.” Harry doesn’t even try to fight you because it’s true. “You’ll take care of drinks and desserts.”

“Seems like you’re planning the date,” he teases.

“I like picnics.”

“Well, I like you, so I’ll let you take over.”

Your smile turns soft, reaching your hand out as if you could reach in and caress him. “I like you, too. I can’t wait to give you a hug.”

“Counting down the hours.”

“Alright, you have class in ten, and you always struggle to log in.”

“Making me hang up. Not fair.” Harry frowns, debating skipping class for you.

“Don’t think about it, Styles.”

“Fine. Take care, baby.”

“Bye, H.”

A date.

You have a date with Harry.

Finally, it happened.

_____

You were nervous.

Why were you nervous? It was just Harry.

Harry, who wanted to date you from your first meeting, who emailed you asking you out, and who has not stopped talking to you since February. Constantly reminding you of his feelings for you. You hope he knew you felt the same, in texts and sending him little gifts even as small as writing him a letter.

You got up early today to prepare lunch. You decided on sandwiches, a non-messy meal, and Harry always said he wanted to try the bakery bread you use and not the basic store-bought. It was a bit pricey but not as much anymore because you had become a regular, meaning the sweet owner began giving you a discount, especially when finding out you're a student. Still, you always remember to leave a good tip. The turkey sandwiches were finished with cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. Looked so good that Amy had one as you were making them. You made three and packed them up in your glass reusable containers.

Staring at the sandwiches, it felt like too little food when Harry had told you many times how much he enjoys eating, so you cleaned up and got to make a second meal. You decided on vegetable rice paper rolls. A favorite and easy meal to make that you enjoyed eating. It was packed with lettuce, avocado, cabbage, bell peppers, cucumbers, noodles, and fresh herbs. This was a meal your dad made you all the time as a child with the special slightly spicy peanut sauce that you could drizzle on top.

Harry was going to enjoy this, so you hoped. He promised to make strawberry lemonade. Assured you that it would not be store-bought, and you believed him. During one of your late conversations, he shared how his sister would make him some when she returned from uni. Reminds him of home, he would say.

After packing everything away in the fridge to keep it cool it was time to get ready. You stood in front of your closet for a good five minutes before you began to swipe through the hangers. You knew you wanted to wear a dress; it was warm weather and would only get hotter as the day went on.

You searched your entire closet, there were three options once you had decided on, but you called Amy in to make the final decison for you. She decided on the one sitting in the middle of your bed, which was exactly what you were thinking.

The dress was a white button-front high slit that fit you nicely. You hadn't used it in quite some time, seeing as when you left your apartment, it would be in leggings, sweats, and the first sweater you could slip on.

You couldn't stop looking in the mirror, loving how it flowed around you when you twirled. For accessories, you slipped on a gold ring that had a little heart on it and another that was a gift shaped like a small snake as it was going to scale down your finger. A simple heart locket gifted to you by your grandparents hung right above your cleavage. You decided to leave your hair natural, liking how it air-dried after the shower you had that morning.

There was no makeup on your face, just your favorite rosebud salve lip balm that left your lips soft. Amy insisted you put some on, but you stood firm in your decision, knowing you'd be wearing a mask and didn't want anything smudging.

You looked down at the time on your phone and knew it was time to head down, Harry said twelve, and you didn't want to make him come up to your apartment only to walk down the three levels again. You grabbed the picnic basket that was sitting in the back of yours and Amy's shared doorway closet and made sure to place everything neatly, leaving room for Harry's drink and stashing a bunch of napkins in for any accidents. Basket prepared, you slipped your sunglasses in your hair, placing your lavender tote bag with tiny embroidered daisies on your shoulder that contained sunscreen, your wallet, extra face masks, and a book Harry had told he had wanted to read.

Before opening your door, you put on the white mask that you embroidered sunflowers on. It was one of your favorites, and glad it complimented your look well. You walked down the stairs slowly, not wanting to drop the basket.

You walk out the front door and find Harry getting out of the yellow mask on his face. As you get closer, you can see it's the one you made him. It has bees on it, and embroidered on the left side is 'my honey.' Harry had turned quite pink when he opened the gift he got in the mail over facetime with her. You happily screenshot his reaction, happy to have it to look back on.

As soon as you reach him, it's as if all the nerves you had disappeared. Calm washes over you as he comes to stand in front of you. You can't see the smile he has, but the crinkles by his eyes prove he's just as happy to see you.

"Hi, Harry," you say, your eyes taking him all in.

Harry doesn't hide, he's checking you out, and you're thankful for the mask at the moment, able to hide how bashful you're feeling. "Hello, baby. You look gorgeous. I'm a lucky man."

"Yeah," you swayed side to side, "gave me a reason to dress up."

"Always beautiful, but I'm so glad to see more than just your shoulders." He laughs, and you join him.

"Look pretty, H. I had not seen this cardigan." You reach out, running a finger down over the pastel yellow cardigan that looks to be well-loved. He paired it with a plain white shirt that fits him loosely with Gucci denim trousers that he told you he found a few years ago when he was thrift shopping in London with his mother.

"No, brought it out just for you. Wanted it to match my favorite mask." Although he couldn't see it, you hoped your eyes were doing their job expressing your joy. "Let's put this basket in the trunk. Got a blanket and a few pillows as well as the lemonade."

"And the dessert?"

He chuckles, "and the dessert."

You place everything in the trunk, taking a step back for Harry to close it. He walks you over to your door, opening it for you, you offer a soft thank you, but before you get in, you turn to look at him.

"What is it, baby?"

You stare down at your ribbon-tied wedges before looking up into his piercing green eyes. "Can I have a hug? I just--I'm really happy to see you."

Harry falters for a second before answering, "of course, come here." He's quick to bring you in for a hug, and it feels like home. It's comfortable, and you can't believe you haven't hugged him since February, a good two months ago, when it has honestly felt like a lifetime. "I would have earlier, but when you came out, you truly shocked me with how amazing you looked."

You just hug him tighter, enjoying feeling his strong arms around you. He looks at you smiling. "That was nice." You nod because it was, and if he'd let you, you'd stay in his arms all day.

"Well, shall we go?"

"We shall."

And with that, you were off to your first date with Harry, which would hopefully lead to more.

_____

The drive to the park was short; you unloaded everything from the car once you got there. Harry offers to carry the basket, letting you lead to picking the spot. You walked ahead, glad he brought you to a park you recognized; it's one you liked to walk around during finals week when you were drowning in essays and exams. This was a nice break. On the other side of the park is a lake where you can rent pedal boats, but you were sure they hadn't opened up for business just yet, wanting more of the population to be vaccinated.

You led him to a secluded area laughing when he joked if you were leading him to his murder. Once you reached the clearing, one large tree with lots of shade and a few rose bushes surrounded it.

"It's beautiful here." Harry awed in amazement.

"Yeah, I found it my first year when I was trying to destress; I don't think many people know about it because it's not on the maps."

"Lucky us."

Harry grabs one end of the blanket, helping you spread it on the grass. You set your tote bag on one corner as well as setting down the pillows. As you make your way to sit down, Harry gently grabs your elbow, causing you to turn and look at him; he's holding a bouquet of tulips.

You felt your eyes well up with tears, not used to such a kind gesture; it's been a long time since you've been on a date with someone you really care about, "You got me tulips, H."

You reach forward and cradle them in your arms. "Course I did; I think you deserve all the beautiful things life has to offer."

You set the flowers on top of the basket before straightening up and pulling Harry into a hug. Your arms around his neck, his resting tightly around your waist, "including you," you whisper in his ear, causing him to squeeze you a bit tighter. Harry pulls back, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Let's eat, baby. Know you made something delicious for us to enjoy."

Harry set the food out, and you are sure to hand him the wet wipes to clean your hand before you could begin wanting to be clean and not wanting to venture out to find a restroom. He eyed the sandwiches first, then the veggie rice paper rolls.

"Couldn't decide?"

"Wasn't sure what you'd like. So I gave you two options."

"Too sweet angel." Harry leans in to kiss her cheek.

"Think we ought to take off the mask now." You giggle, sad you didn't get to feel his lips on your cheek.

"Yeah, so comfortable it doesn't really bother me wearing them. I am hungry."

You place your mask in your bag, and Harry puts his mask in his pocket. He opens up both containers and digs into the veggie rolls first. He hums after the first bite, chewing happily. "Delicious," he mutters between chews.

"Can add this peanut sauce to give it more flavor, just a tad bit spicy." He watches you as you pick up and spoon drizzle a bit on top, taking a bite. Harry follows your steps taking another bite, and his eyes go wide at the added flavor.

"Shocked, I've lived all my life without this food."

You laugh, "well, now you don't have to."

He chews happily at your response.

_____

Lunch is filled with little conversation, both praising each other for a well-planned meal. The strawberry lemonade complimenting the food perfectly. He brought a raspberry lemon loaf cake for dessert, and you happily admit you ate two pieces. It tasted so heavily, making Harry promise you to buy more in the future for you. He agreed, stating he'd do anything to make you happy.

"It's nice going out with someone, enjoying the sweet fresh air." Harry comments.

You hum in agreement, "I adore my alone time, but with the right company, it can feel just as perfect."

Harry's cheek turns rosy pink quickly, not at all trying to hide from you. You love that he loves to show how much you affect him.

"It feels normal like we've done this hundred of times already.”

You chuckle, nudging his shoulder. "It's cause we have. Just never called any of them dates."

"So you agree, we've been dating since February," he teases.

"Yeah, I think we can say that."

"When was our first zoom call?"

"Hmm...after class a week after your birthday. Think we worked for an hour and talked about nothing for another."

You look over at Harry loving how the sun reflects off his skin; it makes him look like a gift from the Gods. Harry feels your gaze on him, flashing you a big grin, his dimples on display just for you, because of you.

"We will call February eighth our anniversary," he declares.

You laugh, not a silent one but a full-out belly gripping laugh; you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Harry sits there confused, not sure where the joke was.

"You alright, baby?" He asks, just a bit concerned.

"That is what you were thinking so hard about; you couldn't figure out a week from your birthday quickly. Took you a good few minutes." You shake your head, trying to catch your breath, tiny giggles still escaping you.

"Oi, no need to be rude."

"Sorry, honey."

"Never claimed to be smart."

"The pretty ones never are," you tease.

"Alright, that's it. I've had enough."

Before you can stop him, he's on top of you, his fingers tickling you from your sides to your thighs. He knows your body getting all your secret spots that make you squirm away from. You almost succeeded in getting one of his hands over your head, but he surprises you by straddling you. You've stopped laughing, but Harry keeps going.

His curls are falling over his head, his eyes shining bright, a new lightness to them. At that moment, you realize how lucky you are, and before you know it, you reach your free hand up and place it on the back of his neck, bringing him down to your lips catching him by surprise.

Harry stays frozen for a second before sinking into the kiss, responding softly, wanting to explore you as he'd been thinking about this moment for months. You love the feel of his lips against yours; you'd happily give up breathing, never wanting to part. Harry tries to pull away, but you chase his mouth, not ready to stop kissing. He smiles against your lips, humming when he places a hand on your cheek, adding more pressure; you're not sure who lets out a moan letting it out into the universe wishing for more, hoping for forever.

You don't get butterflies or fireworks. Instead, you feel the ease of calmness wash over you like when you arrive home after a long day. That's what kissing Harry is like coming home.

You pull back, laying your head on the pillow Harry was wise to bring; you don't try to contain your smile as Harry stares down at you in a look of awe. You run your thumb over his bottom lip-loving how swollen they look thanks to you. His eyes never leave yours; you gasp as he places a kiss on your thumb before taking it in his mouth, sucking it gently; a moan escapes you, surprised at how hot the teasing is getting you.

"You're filthy, honey."

Harry smirks, "just for you, baby."

"Only our first date, H. We aren't going to move fast."

"A makeout isn't too fast for you," he teases.

"Felt just right." You smile, loving the feeling of his weight on top of you as he has not moved from his position, still straddling you.

"I agree."

"Sorry, I didn't ask if I could kiss you. Consent is sexy."

Harry's smile is soft, his eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes, "You hereby have permission to kiss me whenever you please, my love."

"You know all the right things to say to make me puny for you."

"Good to know. Got to keep a mental list."

"What's on there so far?"

Harry smirks, leaning down his mouth right over your mouth; you remember the taste of lemon you felt when you kissed him, and well, you don't try to stop yourself when you attach your lips against his. There's no sweeter feeling, you've decided.

He pulls back, keeping the kiss short, "Know you can't be close to me without giving me a kiss. Know your heart is racing like it might beat out of your chest, and I know you're dying to ask me to be your boyfriend."

"Guess you are smart," you whisper.

He chuckles, nudging his nose against yours, humming as he places a kiss on the top of your nose.

"You know, I was right."

"Yeah, about what, H?" You reach your hand up to run your hand through his curls, brushing them back, giggling as they fall forward again.

"That your laugh sounds better in person. Know it's cheesy but truly music to my ears."

"You nutter!"

"Oi, picking up my slang, are you?"

"Got to, especially when you called that Evan kid a wanker for dismissing my response." You snicker, remembering the moment a few classes ago when you spoke up to give your opinion only for Evan trying to mansplain how women in politics were growing already especially having a female-run as a candidate a few years back. You would have cussed him out, but Harry did it for you. He packed up all your points with his own references. Safe to say, Evan has not spoken up since then.

"Cause he is one. You're the smartest person in the class, and that tosser should not even be in this class. Clearly, hasn't learned one bit since January."

"Settle down, honey. All in the past." You pat his chest a few times, getting his focus back on you. "Got that book you've wanted to read, want to give it a read now?"

"Course, baby. Happy you had it in your collection." He's gotten back into reading now that he seemed to have more time on his hands, and they had been bouncing recommendations off of each other. You had told him to stay off Book Tok because it was the same ten books being promoted by every page. His sister told him to read The Silent Patient, but he couldn't rationalize spending fifteen dollars, and he couldn't find the free pdf. He asked you and told him Amy bought it for you as a gift for feeding her.

"Let me get it out of my bag; you can lay in my lap easier to listen to."

Harry's eyes go wide; you're going to read him. He did not expect that, but he had to make sure. "Going to read to me, darling?"

"If you don't mind." you tuck your hand into your tote bag again, "brought my kindle in case you didn't want to. Won't be sad if you don't want to."

"No, I want you to. Yeah, more than anything. Got the prettiest voice." Harry pecks your lips, pulling back giddy because that's the first time he's kissed you, and well, he has to do it again. Your lips move in sync, the kisses feeling smoother but just as passionate. You break the kiss, playfully push him away, hands-off, letting you adjust yourself before he sets one of the smaller pillows in your lap and lays his head. Your hand is quick to find a place in his hair, thankful you've mastered the one hand reading and page-flipping due to always having a book in your hand growing up.

_____

After reading for a bit, Harry lifts his head from your lap, taking the time to admire you. You kept reading, letting him take you in from this new angle. You stopped brushing his hair instead, allowing yourself to get immersed in the book once again. You giggled, thinking back at Harry's reaction to the opening line of chapter one.

You had just flipped to a new page, ready to start chapter seven, when you saw how fidgety Harry had gotten. He clearly had something on his mind, so you wanted to give him his space; you had only read five words when he spoke, interrupting you.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" Harry blurts, shifting to sit in front of you.

You don't smile, but you know he can see the gleam in your eyes at his words, "Hmmm...will you give me a cute nickname?"

Harry doesn't know what you're doing but goes along with it. "Already do, so yes."

"Will you let me make you more masks?"

"Yes."

"Will you knit me a sweater?"

"I'll knit you hundreds."

You nod, "then yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

"Yeah, you want me to be your boyfriend," Harry teases.

"Dork," you shove his shoulder, causing him to fall back. He gasps in shock.

You laugh, and it's music to his ears; his dramatic response is swallowed as he takes you in. Harry isn't sure where he'd be without you. He takes in the happiness displayed on your face and knows if you could look in a mirror, he'd look just as happy if not more. You are a light in his life.

These last few months have changed everything about him. Harry hadn't really understood what it meant when people said that your partner should also be your best friend. He thought it was cheesy and something to give false hope to others, but with you, he knew it was true.

Starting off as friends built a strong foundation for you both to grow together, and he is forever thankful you took a chance on him.

Harry called it fate, but you well, you think it was all thanks to the zoom gods who set you up in a random break out room not once but twice.

_____

thank you for reading :) I adore you xx

[ravennm84]

The Inspector

I read a short story on AO3 a while back about a teacher or adult sending a letter to the Board of Governors about the teachers of the school and how terrible they were, and decided to write a story about the person who was assigned to look into the accusations. Got some salt and justice coming along. And I must say, this was very therapeutic to write. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

Inspector Walters had a bad feeling about the Francois-Dupont College since the moment he’d received the assignment. The Board of Governors had been debating conducting an investigation on the school since one of the classes had been nicknamed “The Akuma Class” by social media and a few news sources. It became a necessity when a complaint had been filed by the Dupain-Cheng family about their daughter’s expulsion. 

That complaint had surprised him. Only the Board of Governors had the power to expel a student after an investigation, and they hadn’t expelled the girl. The parents claimed that it was done on the same day as the accusations against the student, and was then retracted the following day. Again, something that only the Board of Governors had the power to do.

Looking over the incident report, the details were slim at best. Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was accused of cheating on a mock exam and the answer sheet was found in her backpack. When looking at the schedule, he saw that the mock exam had been taken the day before and the teacher only noticed that the answer sheet was missing after receiving the exams. A fact which bothered him a bit, but he’d seen a few scatterbrained teachers, as well as students make the mistake of not getting rid of the evidence. However, he also saw from her student records that she was one of the top students and always got high grades, so there was some doubt that she would have cheated.

The next thing was the accusation that she had pushed another student, Mlle. Lila Rossi down the stairs, injuring her right knee. However, there was no mention of an ambulance being called or even a trip to the nurse’s station. It was also suspect that there was no mention of other injuries that someone would have received after falling down stairs; no recorded cuts, bruises, or anything. So either Rossi had the most well placed fall that kept her from major injury, or she was lying.

The last part of the report was that Mlle. Dupain-Cheng had stolen a necklace from Mlle. Rossi and put it in her locker. Again, he was a bit skeptical considering that the same two girls had been involved with a separate incident on the same day. There was a picture of the locker, but Walters quickly noticed that there was no actual lock on the locker, something that he should be seeing since the Board had funded upgrades for lockers months ago. There was also no CCTV record attached to the incident report, meaning that the system was down and not reported, or the principal never checked them and only went by the word Mlle. Rossi.

Looking over the rest of the file, it was even more suspect when he saw that only Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s parents had been called in. Mlle. Rossi’s contact, her mother, had been listed as “unavailable”. This was yet another thing that didn’t sit well with him. Following his gut, M. Walters set aside the Dupain-Cheng student file to look more closely at the Rossi student file. 

Not five minutes in, he knew that things were not right. The disabilities she had listed in the current file were not consistent with the files from her previous schools, and there were no doctors notes to support them as being recently discovered ailments. He attempted to call the number listed on the current file, but it kept going straight to voicemail. Comparing the number to the previous files, he noticed that the number did not match.

Finding himself very unhappy with the incomplete file provided by Principal Damocles, he decided that he would have to go to the school in person the following morning and see for himself what was really going on.

~oOo~

First stop he made was to the principal’s office. M. Walters had not alerted him of the inspection so that the man would not have a chance to change or hide specific documents, he’d seen that happen more than once. What he had not expected was to see a grown man playing with dolls/action figures behind his desk. Damocles quickly straightened up, hiding the dolls in a drawer before scowling at him. “What is the meaning of this? You can’t simply barge into my office without-”

“Actually, M. Damocles, I can,” he interrupted, pulling out his identification. “Inspector Walters, I’m with the Board of Governors, looking into a recent complaint filed against the school.”

“Complaint? What complaint?” He asked, sputtering a bit in surprise.

“The expulsion of Mlle. Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he glared at the man.

“Oh, that incident has already been handled.”

“Is that so? Then please, explain to me how the incident was handled.” Pulling out a chair, Walters flipped open his notepad and clicked open his pen. Some of his colleagues considered the whole pen and paper thing to be a little old-school at times, but it had its purpose. He waved a hand at Damocles to begin.

“Well, Mlle. Lila Rossi suffers from a rare disease that makes her lie uncontrollably when she is stressed-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, M. Damocles. We will get to the reason why you reinstated Mlle. Dupain-Cheng in a moment. First, I want you to go through everything on the day of the incident.”

“Oh, of-of course,” he was beginning to fidget. “I was sitting in my office when I heard screaming outside of my door. When I came outside, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was standing at the top of the stairs and Mlle. Lila Rossi was at the bottom of the stairs, crying that she had been pushed.” Walters wrote this down and waved a hand for him to continue. “M. Harpele and I brought her upstairs and wrapped the knee that was injured, and then contacted Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s parents to talk about the incident, seeing as Mlle. Rossi had been badly injured.”

Walters finished writing that down before looking back up at Damocles. “And is that when you called an ambulance to look over Mlle. Rossi’s injury and check to make sure there were no other injuries?”

It was no surprise to him when Damocles mouth did an impersonation of a fish for a moment. “Well, um, no. I did not call an ambulance-”

“Then I can only imagine that you called the school nurse to your office to look her over and deem whether or not a trip to the hospital was necessary?”

Again, he began impersonating a fish. “I-I didn’t think it was- Mlle. Rossi claimed that she was fine and that only her knee was injured.”

“You just told me that you believed Mlle. Rossi was, and I quote ‘badly injured’, and yet she received no medical attention?” Walters hummed in a disbelieving manner as he looked down at his notepad and wrote down his thoughts. “That was quite irresponsible of you. I’ve read your personnel file and nowhere does it list that you have a medical background. Yet, you thought yourself qualified to treat and diagnose a girl that claimed to have been pushed down the stairs and could have underlying injuries, such as a concussion, broken bones, or internal bleeding?” 

To his satisfaction, the principal began to sweat, but he was nowhere close to finished yet. “I can imagine that Mme. Rossi was upset when you called her to the school for the meeting with M. and Mme. Dupain-Cheng.” Just as he suspected, Damocles wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You have contacted Mme. Rossi about the incident, have you not?”

“Well, Mme. Rossi is an ambassador and is very busy-”

“Are you meaning to tell me that you failed to alert a parent that their child was injured while in your care?” When the principal looked away again, Walters glared before double clicking his pen and writing down more notes.Taking his time as he wrote to allow the man to sweat and worry about what was being written.

“We will return to your failure at contacting parents and guardians later. Now, tell me what you observed when you reviewed the CCTV footage of the stairs at the time of the incident.” Just as he suspected, the man became flustered and refused to meet his eyes. “Are you telling me that you did not, at any time, look over the footage to corroborate whether Mlle. Rossi was pushed or accidentally fell?” 

Hesitating again. “I, um, thought it unnecessary. It was clear that she was pushed-”

“And you know that for fact, how, exactly?” He glared as he kept writing.

“As I said, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng was standing at the top of the stairs while Mlle. Rossi was at the bottom of the stairs, crying that she’d been pushed-”

“You also said, and I quote ‘I was sitting in my office when I heard screaming outside of my door’. Meaning that you did not actually see whether Mlle. Rossi was pushed or simply fell. Am I to understand that you believed one child over another without gathering evidence to prove or disprove the claim?”

Walters watched as the man’s parlor turned a pale green while muttering multiple failed excuses, which only served to anger him further. So far, Damocles had failed to show him, in any way, that he was qualified to run this school and had let an innocent girl suffer for his mistakes. “You are going to pull up that footage right now, and have it prepared for a meeting I will be setting up with Mme. Rossi later today. And not just the stairs, but the footage of the classroom to see exactly who stole the test answer sheet and the lockerroom to see if the accusations of Mlle. Dupain-Cheng stealing Mlle. Rossi’s property is at all valid. And allow me to make something very clear, you are already looking at being brought up on negligence and abuse of power, seeing as you expelled and reinstated a student, something that only the Board of Governors has the power to do. If I find out that the footage is somehow ‘missing’, I will have no choice but to assume that you have purposefully erased it to protect yourself and will have you brought before the Board by tomorrow morning. Am I clear?”

The man gave a shaky nod, as he immediately got on his computer and began pulling up the footage from that day.

Getting on his phone, Walters called the number that Mme. Rossi had listed in the previous files and it went straight through. He easily scheduled a meeting for later that day and hung up.“I will be sitting in on Mme. Bustier’s class for the rest of the day, until Mme. Rossi arrives at 1pm for our appointment. Have all the footage ready by then.” Without another word, Inspector Walters left the office and made his way down to the Akuma Classroom.

~oOo~

Lunch had finally come and Walters was anything but impressed by what he had seen. To her credit, Mme. Bustier had been polite and understanding towards his presence in the classroom and seemed to go about teaching as usual. She was also a very upbeat type of personality, something needed in a city plagued by akumas. But that was the extent of his compliments towards the teacher. 

During the first half of the day, he witnessed the woman allow her students to become disorderly multiple times. Three of which stood out to him beyond the normal rowdy teenage energy that is normal for a classroom. 

The first was how a boy in the front of the room kept flinching and curling into himself whenever another student, who just happened to be Mlle. Lila Rossi, touched him. She was sharing his desk in the front, sitting inappropriately close, clutching his arm in a possessive manor, and ignored him when he asked her to let him go or give him space. All this was done in full view of Mme. Bustier, and she did nothing.

During the literature lesson, they were studying Bram Stoker's Dracula, Mlle. Rossi interrupted and began telling a story about being a descendant of Vlad the Impaler. A complete falsehood since Vlad’s only child had been killed as an infant. This was a fact that the teacher should have corrected or told the girl to pay attention to the lesson, but she did nothing. Allowing the girl to prattle on for close to 15 minutes before returning to the lesson.

The worst though, was when Mlle. Rossi, made another scene when she began complaining about how her left knee was still hurting from when Marinette pushed her down the stairs. The other students proceeded to glare and speak harsh words about the girl. It was at this time that Mlle. Dupain-Cheng stood from her seat in the back and attempted to defend herself. Mme. Bustier did intervene this time, but she did not reprimanded the other students that were ganging up on the one girl. Instead, she reprimanded Marinette and told her that she was not setting a good example for the class. Then forced her to apologize to Lila for upsetting her. Blatant victim blaming, right in front of him, and the teacher had the nerve to smile at him as if to say that she had handled the situation.

Walters had written everything down, already deciding that he would need to call the Board at the first possible moment to alert them to the incompitent administrative practices of Damocles, as well as the toxic teaching methods of Bustier. It was now little wonder why this class had produced so many akumas. It was a miracle that there were any students left in the class that hadn’t been akumatized. But seeing as one student was clearly being bullied and the other was being sexually harassed, it likely wouldn’t be long.

He was just barely able to fit in the call and look over the CCTV footage before his meeting with Mme. Rossi in M. Damocles office. That had been interesting, to say the least. Before the meeting had even started, Mme. Rossi was voicing her worry about the amount of time that the school had been closed due to akuma attacks…

Once that had been cleared up, M. Damocles got to the matter at hand. Beginning with requesting information and doctors notes at her earliest convenience pertaining to her daughter’s injuries, disabilities, as well as requesting more information about her lying disease. Again, that had been a very interesting conversation that resulted in the woman yelling at Damocles in French and Italian about how incompetant he was and why hadn’t he gotten ahold of her sooner?

But the worst reaction came when Damocles told her about the day of the incident. They showed her the footage found of Lila, and yes it was Lila, stealing the answer sheet off of Mme. Bustier’s desk and then slip it into Marinette’s bag on her way back to her seat. Then the footage of Lila breaking into Marinette’s locker and planting the necklace. And finally, Lila smiling at Marinette before walking down the stairs and sitting on the ground before she started screaming. 

By then, another inspector from the Board of Governors had arrived to assist in the situation that he had reported during his earlier phone call and the students had returned from lunch. Walters requested Mme. Bustier to join them and to bring Lila along. When the girl entered the office and saw her furious mother and principal, she paled immediately and started lying.

Even when Walters, Damocles, and her mother tore apart every one of her lies, she kept trying to turn things around and make herself a victim. And to Walters’ horror, Damocles was actually buying her lies! It was at that moment that he decided that the man had no right being a school administrator and would be put on leave, pending the end of his investigation and the Board of Governors decision. 

Bustier attempted to side with Lila as well, claiming that the girl suffered from a disease and shouldn’t be punished. Completely ignoring that Mme. Rossi told her that her daughter suffered no such ‘disease’. The other inspector, Marchand, looked on in disgust before pulling out his phone and calling the Board of Governors right there, relaying his support of Walters’ recommendation against Damocles and Bustier. 

Walters took charge of the situation, forcing Damocles out of his chair to take his seat. “Mme. Rossi, as an inspector of the Board of Governors, I must ask if you fully understand the situations that your daughter has caused?”

The woman took a deep breath before slowly letting it out, all the while retaining a firm grip on her daughter’s arm after she had attempted to flee the room earlier. “If you would, please go over everything from the top.” The woman requested, her voice a bit hoarse after yelling at the principal, the teacher, and her daughter.

Giving the woman a sympathetic nod, he flipped open the notebook and went over his notes while Marchand kept Damocles and Bustier quiet and standing in a corner. “I have personally observed your daughter disrupting class, bullying a student named Marinette Dupain-Cheng, lying to her peers, leading them to also bully Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, and sexually harassing another student who verbally asked her to stop. We have video evidence of her committing theft, harassing the same student I witnessed her bullying, framing that student for assault, as well as framing that student of theft and cheating. All that, as well as your testimony of her lying to the school administration about different injuries and illnesses, fraud in regards to changing your contact information, and four months of truancy. 

“At this point, the school has no choice but to suspend Lila, pending an investigation to be completed by the Board of Governors,” he said, handing her the paperwork to sign, which she did right away. “At the time the investigation is complete, she will have the opportunity to plead her case to the Board. However, I want to make it clear that, from what I have seen, it is very likely that your daughter will be expelled.”

To her credit, Mme. Rossi held her head high as she nodded and handed back their copies of the suspension papers. “I suspected as much. However, I do request that a meeting be scheduled with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s parents so that Lila may apologize in person. I also want her to apologize to the class and admit her lies to them so that there won’t be any backlash on that poor girl.”

Lila turned to her mother in a panic. “No, Mom! Please don’t make me-”

“YOUNG LADY, you are going to tell the class everything you lied about, apologize to that girl, and admit that you have been bullying her. Am I clear?” Walters was impressed that the girl simply nodded as she curled into herself before Mme. Rossi looked back to him. “I will not allow Lila to escape her punishment, that includes telling the truth to the people she has wronged.”

He nodded in understanding. “I’ll see about arranging a meeting. However, the suspension will be taking effect immediately, if you wish to have her confess to the class, I suggest doing so right now before school lets out.” Walters then turned to give the teacher a hard look that had her wilting under his gaze. “I’m sure Mme. Bustier would have no problem with that, I will also accompany you. M. Marchand, would you mind keeping an eye on M. Damocles?”

“Of course, I would like to word with him in private, myself.” He said, sending the man his own scathing look.

Mme. Bustier quietly escorted the Rossis and himself back to the classroom. The gym teacher, M. D’Argencourt had been watching over the class while Bustier had been in the meeting. Walters asked him to stay, and that they would only be there for a moment before turning to nod at the other teacher.

“Students, may I have your attention, please?” She waited a few seconds as the students put away what they were doing, likely hearing the tremor in the woman’s voice. “As you know, M. Walters, from the Board of Governors, has been sitting in with us today. It has been brought to my attention that one of our students has not been honest with us and has been causing a fair amount of trouble.” 

Looking back at the girl and her mother, Mme. Rossi forced her daughter to step forward while keeping a hand on her shoulder. At first, she didn’t say anything. Then her mother leaned forward to whisper something in her ear, causing her to slump and tears to fall down her cheeks. “I-I lied, about everything. *sniffle* I don’t know any celebrities. I’ve never helped charities or been to Achu. *sniffle* I don’t have tinnitus, arthritis, or anything like that. I’m not Ladybug’s best friend and I’m not related to Vlad the Impaler. And-and…”

“And…” Mme Rossi said in a forceful tone, ignoring the stunned looks they were receiving from the class. Lila tucked her chin to her chest, muttering the rest of her confession under her breath. But her mother wasn’t going to allow that. “Speak up so everyone can hear you, unless you want to be grounded for twice as long with no allowance at all.”

The girl’s hands fisted at her side as she spoke loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Marinette never bullied me. I-I bullied her. I told her that I would take her friends from her. I pl-planted the answer sheet in her bag. *sob* I put my necklace in-in her locker. She never pushed me down the stairs either, I faked it to get her expelled.”

“And why did you do all of this to that girl, Lila?” Her mother asked, making it clear that she had to answer. 

“Be-because sh-she knew that I was lying *sob hiccup sob* and I wanted her gone.”

“And what do you have to say to Marinette?”

Lila lifted her chin, glaring dangerously at the girl sitting in the back. “Sorry,” she snapped.

Mme. Bustier looked up at the girl, giving her a kind smile. “And do you accept her apology, Marinette?”

That really pissed him off, that woman had no right to put that girl on the spot after Rossi had done everything in her power to ruin that girl’s life. Before she could say anything, Walters stepped in front of Bustier. “Marinette, you are under no obligation to accept her apology, that is completely up to you.” Waiting a moment he saw the absolute relief on the girl’s face before quietly shaking her head and settling back in her chair. 

Walters then instructed M. D’Argencourt to continue with the class while he escorted Bustier back to the office while Mme. Rossi took her daughter home. 

There was still a lot to do in this school, it was clear to him that the two educators, and he used that term loosely, needed to go. There was paperwork to fill out, more CCTV footage to go over, interviews with the students of Bustier’s class, and calls needed to be made to the Dupain-Chengs and the Agrestes about Lila Rossi and what she’d done to their children. The investigation literally had weeks of work to do, but it had to be done. But Walters knew, by the time they were done cleaning house, the students and school would be better off for it.

~oOo~ Four Weeks Later ~oOo~

Walters was working on the last of the paperwork having to do with the Francois-Dupont College debacle, greatly relieved that it was over.

Lila Rossi had been officially expelled after the investigation for bullying, harassment, theft, sexual harassment, cheating, destruction of property, fraud, and truancy. During her trial before the Board, the Dupain-Cheng family had been present and she had been forced to apologize to them for what she had done to her daughter. From her file, he saw that the Dupain-Chengs, as well as the Agreste family, had placed restraining orders on the girl. The Agreste family were also pressing charges for sexual harassment. Mme. Rossi had mentioned a reformatory school for delinquent children in Italy, stating that she had already enrolled her daughter, despite the outcome of the Board’s decision. He was glad that the woman was taking everything in stride and seemed to be doing the right thing.

The investigation into M. Damocles had uncovered even more skeletons than Walters had expected. Negligence and abuse of power, those were easily confirmed. They also uncovered proof of favoritism, taking bribes to ensure that certain students were not punished for offenses or that they passed their classes, despite failing grades. But the nail in the coffin was when Walters tracked down the money that was supposed to go to upgrading the lockers, Damocles had embezzled it to fund his vigilante superhero activities. He had officially been fired and blacklisted from ever working for the educational system or any branch of the government. The new principal was a vice principal from another school, well versed in bullying situations and had degrees in accounting as well as education. She would be going over all the books to see exactly how much money Damocles had embezzled over the years, so the Board of Governors would be able to sue for the proper amount of restitutions.

The issue of Mme. Bustier turned out to be an interesting matter. While looking into her qualifications, it had been revealed that her teaching license had been suspended before she had been hired by Damocles to teach at the school. Not trusting her file, Walters contacted her previous school and found out that they had fired her for much of the same reasons he had put her on leave. She had enabled bullies, blamed the victims, and pressured her “star pupil” to take on the work of a teaching assistant. When that same student complained and refused to help anymore, Bustier had told his parents that the boy was a troublemaker, refused to follow instruction, and was talking back. The boy had insisted on talking to the principal, who had cleared things up with the student and his parents. Bustier had been fired for her behavior and her license suspended until she completed anti-bullying classes, which she never attended. She simply applied to a new school, where the principal didn’t look too closely at her paperwork, and resumed her toxic teaching methods. Because of this; Bustier had been fired, blacklisted from ever teaching again, as well as arrested for teaching without a license.

The whole of Bustier’s class had been assigned counselling sessions for the foreseeable future until the toxic habits that the teacher had instilled in the class could be rectified. Though Walters was pleased to see that there seemed to be progress, as none of the students had been akumatized since the day he had gone to the school. A new record for time between akumatizations. The substitute that had been hired was stern, well versed in squashing bullying habits, but was sympathetic to the victims. That was what that class needed for the time until the Board could find a suitable, permanent replacement. 

All in all, Walters felt that he had done his job with investigating the Dupain-Cheng expulsion, and was happy to hear that the girl was doing much better. Her record had been cleared, her grades were still at the top of the class, and she had given the Board a basket of baked goods on the day of Lila’s trial, which had been like eating little bites of heaven. She had even given him a custom notebook cover, that he was pretty sure she made herself, and a matching pen. It was a very kind gift, and might have thought it was a bribe if anyone else had given it to him, but he could tell that she was just grateful to him for listening to her and making her school life better. 

That was the reason he enjoyed his job.

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[toomanyrobins2]

drunk on indigo skies pt. 11

Summary: Y/N “Indigo” Phillips had dealt in secrets her whole life. Hired by Tony Stark at 16, falling in love with his son was never the plan. She also never expected that five years later, she’d be leaving Peter in the middle of the night with just a note on the dining room table. Now a year later, she has to return to the Three Families as their whole world continues to be threatened by a rival mob.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Content warning: Mentions of alcohol abuse, sex, violence, murder

Notes: Sorry this has taken so long! I'm going to try to be more consistent from here on out. Enjoy 💛

series masterlist // next part

Y/N had gone home to Ellie after her fight with Peter. She’d moved like a zombie until she sat in the nursery, staring down at the sleeping baby in her arms. She groaned and dropped her head back against the rocking chair. Once again, her impatience and temper had ruined her and Peter…dammit.

It had been three days of avoiding everyone. The texts and calls had finally gotten so bad that she’d just shut it off completely. The fight kept rolling through her mind. Why hadn’t she just told him the truth. Peter had said he loved her...maybe the truth wouldn’t ruin that? Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone buzzing and she quickly answered, not wanting to wake up Ellie. She pulled it out of her pocket, whispering into it, “Hello.”

“Is this Indigo?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“It’s Ant at the bar.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“I don’t know if this is my place or not, but Peter is here…and he’s…well he’s ordered a drink.”

Her stomach dropped, “I’ll be right there.” Y/N quickly brought Ellie down to the car, having to ignore how grumpy the baby was. She rushed to the hotel, her heart beating out of her chest.

Standing in the doorway, she stared at the brunet at the bar. It was clear Peter hadn’t shaved since their fight. His face was scruffy and hair stood up on end like he’d run his hands through it multiple times. He was sitting in the center of the bar, a glass of whiskey in front of him. Her mind went back to every time she’d try to take a glass just like that away from him. She made her way over and put a hand on his shoulder, jarring Peter from his destructive thoughts. Sliding the drink away from him, he didn’t even try to stop her. He looked up at her and sighed, tears in his eyes, “I didn’t drink it. I swear.”

Indy threaded her fingers into his hair, “I believe you, baby.”

“I thought about it. Every time I picked it up, you and Ellie ran through my mind.”

Her heart broke at how distraught he looked, “Come home. You can deal with this tomorrow, but tonight just come home. Cuddle with me and Ellie.” Peter nodded and let Y/N throw some cash on the counter and lead him out, mouthing the words thank you to Scott behind the bar.

They drove in silence until they parked. She had stared out the window the whole drive home, her hand gripping his tightly. When they parked, she turned to him, “I know that HYDRA has issued some threats and I know everything is messy right now. I’m going to try to be more honest and open. Tomorrow, you can ask me anything.” Peter leaned over the console and pulled Y/N into a heart-shattering kiss. He let his forehead rest against hers and she smiled softly. For all the anger and danger that existed in the world, these soft moments with him made it all worth it. Peter Parker was a lot of things to a lot of people. To her, he was the man who would sleep on the floor of Ellie's nursery and who had brought her coffee in bed every morning. They had had their lows, but they had grown and now Y/N picture of their future starting to form. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered.

The sun broke through the window, waking Peter up. He rolled over and it took him a second to remember the night before. Rolling over, he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Y/N was still there. He climbed out of bed and went into the nursery to check on Ellie. When he got into the room, the baby was wide awake and kicked happily when she saw him. Peter picked her up and brought her back into the bedroom. He kissed Y/N’s forehead, gently shaking her awake, “You need to get up, baby. We have to go.”

“Nooooooooo,” she rolled over.

“Yesssssss,” Peter mocked her, “I have a surprise.”

She cracked open an eye, “A good surprise?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” She grumbled in annoyance but got out of bed.

Peter drove them out to where the compound was. Y/N was confused when he drove past the usual turn and continued down the road. “Are you planning to murder me?”

He laughed, “No, I’m showing you something. Now be patient.” Peter turned off the road and headed towards a small house. It looked like the cottage out of a storybook. There was a wrap-around porch and a tire swing hanging on a nearby tree. All-in-all, it was an idyllic home. He parked and got out, leaving Y/N and Ellie in the car. When they didn’t join him, he turned around and waved at them.

Once she walked up beside Peter, he explained, “Every time I wanted to drink, I started going for long drives. I found this plot of land for sale and bought it. Started to build a house. The house we talked about that night. An escape from all the craziness.”

“Peter—“

He held his hand up to stop her from speaking, “You told me starting today that you were going to be honest. I think I should do the same. I just want you to understand that when I say I haven't had a drink since you left, I meant it. Every moment I could, I worked on this.” He pulled a key out of his pocket and they walked into the house.

Y/N looked around, the decor was sparse but the bones of the house were exactly what they had talked about. A big room with a fireplace took up the front of the house. Bookcases ran along one wall, half-filled. Her hand ran along the back of the couch, the same one that used to be in their apartment, “I can’t believe this.

“I asked you what you want, but first, I’m going to tell you what I want. I want you and I love you.”

The idea o telling Peter the truth was getting worse by the second, Y/N swallowed, “Don’t say that.”

“I have to. Because if I don’t I think I’ll explode. I am heart-stoppingly, world-shatteringly in love with you.”

“Peter—“

“Stop running. You loved me once and all I’m asking for is a second chance.”

“I’m not running.”

“Yes, you are. Every day you’ve got one foot out the door, ready to bolt. I love you.”

Her arms were wrapped tightly around her torso, as if that would stop his words from hitting her, “Stop saying that.”

“Why? It’s what you wanted from me once.”

“Because the day you stop saying it again is the day that my heart shatters. I can’t stay and let you fall out of love with me. You may feel that way now, but I’m not willing to see you change.”

Peter threw his hands up in frustration, “Who’s saying I’m going to change?”

“Because I haven’t told you everything and when I do it’ll all change.”

“I love you and I think you love me too, Indy. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped.”

“Dammit, Peter,” she turned away from him and looked around the room, “You did all of this?”

“I love you and Ellie and I want the three of us to live together. Here or anywhere else you want.”

She watched as Ellie toddled amongst the things they used to own. She hated how much it fits. How simple it all looked. “Dammit,” Y/N grabbed Peter and pulled him into a kiss, “Before you make that offer, I need to tell you the truth. The whole truth…”

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

@marvel-is-a-mood

@marvelofwitch

@mycosmicparadise

@majo240820

@capsiclesdoll

@slut-for-steve-rogers

@dottirose

@runawayolives

@zaraomarrogers

@jemimah-b99

@redhairedfeistynerd

[ddarker-dreams]

Aspiration Part 2. Yan Chrollo x Reader [COMM]

click here for part one! 

“You’ll hurt your neck if you keep craning your head down like that.” 

What good it does to chastise you on an insignificant action like this is beyond you. There isn’t much else to do until you land in this “unknown” destination that he’s spoken of earlier, yet the thought of entertaining conversation with him doesn’t feel appealing either. Being kidnapped will have that effect on you, he shouldn’t expect otherwise but seems to. 

“Nothing a few painkillers won’t solve.” you respond with forced disinterest, flipping to the next page of the magazine Chrollo gave you earlier. It feels like a minor loss to entertain him with a response, your cold shoulder treatment temporarily lifting. 

You’ve read this magazine at least three times by now, hoping that giving your mind something to focus on will steady you in reality. The lackluster stories about summer sales, latest keto recipes, and what celebrities have been up to lately offer none to little substance. Yet your eyes continue scanning them dutifully as if it’s a sacred text recovered by a forgotten civilization.

Letting out a small yawn, you continue to read until you get to the familiar final page once again. Fully intending on completing the cycle of rereading it, Chrollo interrupts this by plucking it from your grasp before you get the chance. All you can offer in return is a halfhearted glare and grimace. 

“Hey! I was reading that.” you protest with a frown, feeling vulnerable without anything to hold onto. 

He ignores your agitated exclamation, placing the magazine out of your reach by his side. “I don’t believe you’re missing out on anything of importance, seeing as you’ve read it multiple times already.” 

Huffing but not humoring him with a response, you cross your arms and stare out the window. The clouds below you are an enticing sight, still not enough to maintain your attention for the remaining thirty or so minutes of this flight. When traveling, it’s always the last amount of time before reaching your destination that feels like the longest.

Chrollo lets out a disapproving sigh at your actions, then pulls back his sleeve to check the time. “It won’t be much longer. I’ll attribute your current behavior to being hungry.”

“Well, yeah, there’s that,” you finally look over at him, lips pursing indignantly. “And there’s the fact that I’ve been kidnapped by an A bounty criminal and am currently heading to god knows where at four in the morning.” 

“You’re by all means welcome to rest.” 

How he can calmly rebuke all your thinly veiled sarcasm is a special talent, like water off a duck’s back. You don’t want to admit it, however, you’re grateful he isn’t hotheaded and offended by your boorish remarks. Watching your tongue would be how any sane person would deal with a threat like this… then there’s you. Making poor decisions and winging it. A life motto, really. 

An invitation to rest your weary eyes isn’t easily declined, an alluring proposal. His presence makes it a challenge to feel comfortable enough to fall asleep, that state leaving you entirely vulnerable. When you’re awake you have some tandem of control, even if it isn’t much. 

“Where exactly would I do that? I don’t see any beds in here.” You emphasize your rebuttal by glancing around the room you two occupy, as if one would materialize at your words. Now that would be a useful nen ability, if he happened to have it. 

Chrollo smiles, in a way that doesn’t sit well with you. “Why not rest on my shoulder?” 

“W-whatever happened to your previous care over the well being of my neck? That’ll just hurt it after five or so minutes.” you stutter back, face flushing as his lips quirk further upwards. Amusement is dancing within his dark eyes, drawing out further discomfort from you. He seems to like exchanges like this, flustering you with the same ease as breathing.

“Painkillers. You said it yourself,” Chrollo throws your previous statement before you, challenging you with a raised eyebrow. “I’d be happy to get them, if that’s the only reservation you have about sleeping on me.” 

Inhaling sharply at his teasing assault, you close your eyes to prevent yourself from doing anything foolish. Gritting your teeth and balling your fists by your side, you remember why you were giving him the cold shoulder earlier. Talking to Chrollo is exasperating, all of his composed words like needles in your skin. Not wanting to swat at the wasp nest any further, your mind starts drifting, in a last ditch effort to distract yourself. 

It’s been an eventful night. The most memorable night of your life, if you’re being honest. You had always acknowledged and accepted the risks of looking into the Phantom Troupe. The stories of their unabashed cruelty served as an appropriate warning. Playing it close to the chest usually entailed fear of death, so never in your wildest dreams were you expecting… whatever this is. 

At least it beats dying? So you’ve got that going for you.

There isn’t anything you can do now, is what you’ve been telling yourself. Playing along with his whims is all you can think to do. It isn’t the ideal situation, but your only option now is to wait for an opening for escape. Even though Chrollo has more strength than you, he is still human. The thought offers a glimmer of encouragement, knowing that people aren’t infallible. You’ll take advantage of any weaknesses you can find. 

Getting more information out of him is a path worth pursuing for the time being. 

“I hope we’re not camping,” you murmur, shuddering at the horrific thought. “Bugs eat me like I’m the last supper.” 

“We won’t be camping. And despite the name, the last supper isn’t actually the last time the disciples ate.” There’s something extremely ironic about a murderer correcting you on this. 

“Please forgive me for not being up to date on biblical theology. I’ll be sure to correct that before the next test,” you deadpan before a realization hits you. “Wait, so what exactly are we doing? How am I even allowed to be on this blimp without my passport? God, none of this makes any sense…” 

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever ask. To answer your questions, we’ll be staying at a hotel for a few weeks. I know some people in the area who are interested in purchasing what was stolen earlier.” Chrollo explains with a casual air, smoothing out a wrinkle in his shirt. 

It all hits you again. This is really happening to you. An inescapable reality where you’re at the complete mercy of this man, who despite showing no interest in harming you, is fully capable of doing so. Your contempt style of speaking until now has been a pitiful defense mechanism to help you cope with the extremity of this situation, not doing anything aside from momentarily distracting you. Running a hand through your hair, you feel your heart pounding within once more.

Chrollo takes note of how you shift in your seat, and tilts his head. “I understand this has been quite a lot to process. I meant what I said earlier -- about having no intention to harm you -- unless you do something that forces my hand.” 

He smiles, the warm action not matching up to the dark implications of his words. It makes your blood run cold, how a monster can wear the skin of a human. There isn’t any benefit of getting yourself further worked up, so you continue rambling on. Life is all about testing the boundaries of what you can and can’t get away with. 

“I still… don’t really get it. I know I was looking into information about you guys, but in that case, why not just,” you gulp, fearful that saying it will solidify the possibility. “Kill me? Even more so now that I know more.” 

For the first time all night, Chrollo doesn’t offer an immediate quip in response. He carefully considers your words, in a way that leads you to believe he doesn’t entirely know the answer himself. It’s not that you have a death wish, yet your curiosity is overwhelming. Whenever he does decide to grace you with an answer, maybe you’ll find out something that’ll prove useful to escaping in the future.

“There’s no simple reason that’ll satisfy you. You piqued my interest, and that’s a dangerous thing to do with a thief,” he leans over, clearly assessing you as you back away in response. “I confirmed my suspicions when we spoke earlier in the car. So for the time being… I want to observe you.” 

He was right when he said the answer won’t be satisfactory. His response leaves more questions than answers, some of which you don’t want to delve into. Backing down from this befuddling conversation, you focus on something else.

The soothing night sky outside elicits butterflies in your stomach. Darkness allows for the city lights beneath to stand out, little twinkling dots of light growing closer as the blimp descends. You can’t help but feel a sense of relief knowing that you’ll be on the ground soon, a sense of claustrophobia constricting you in this room with no escape. His suffocating presence doesn’t help on that front. 

Chrollo is finally considerate enough to leave you to your thoughts. Within a few more minutes you’ve made your landing, leaving through a private terminal with what has to be forged ID. A black car rental car is waiting for you outside the airport, Chrollo opening the door to the passenger seat for you. The gentleman-like act almost causes you to roll your eyes, but you’re far too exhausted to do anything other than sitting down obediently. You’ll save the cheek for a later time. 

He shuts some luggage into the trunk, then starts the car with a low hum, driving off to where you presume the hotel he mentioned earlier is. Looking out the window, you squint as the sun begins to rise into the sky. Your eyelids grow heavier by the second, in spite of how desperately you cling to consciousness. Eventually, the world around you grows distant, and you’re lulled into a deep slumber.

Dreamless rest is stolen from you, Chrollo gingerly shaking your shoulders and bringing you back to cruel reality. Letting out a low groan at the unwelcome interruption, you feel like swatting his hands away. “What… oh, it’s you.” 

“Good morning to you too,” If he’s bothered by your unenthusiastic greeting, he doesn’t show it. Taking out the keys from the car, the vehicle ceases making noise. “We’re here now. You did mention wanting to sleep on a bed earlier, didn’t you?”

Craning your neck to look out the window, you see only about half an hour has passed since you first fell asleep. Outside is a grandiose looking building that must be your hotel. As much as you hate to admit it, you find yourself staring at what has to be the very expensive venue. Much more than anything you could ever hope to afford. While you’re appreciating the sight before you, Chrollo gets out to get his luggage. 

That’s right. What are you supposed to do for clothes anyways? All of it’s stuck back at your apartment, and you don’t think Chrollo was generous enough to pack for you. At least a hotel will have toiletries, so that won’t be a concern. 

‘Oh well. I guess we’ll cross that bridge once we get to it.’

“Do you need me to carry you?” Chrollo calls over from the curb, two large suitcases in hand. You realize only one of them has a lock on it.

Not even humoring him with a response, you get out of the car, keeping your distance from him. To your understanding, attempting to flee or signal down anyone will earn “unwanted consequences”, or at least that’s how he put it. It’s one thing to endanger yourself in a daring escape, but you can’t justify putting other’s lives on the line. 

Morning chill prompts you to wrap your arms around yourself, warding off the cold. Following Chrollo’s lead, you head through revolving doors into a breathtaking lobby. Warm, yellow light from a glass chandelier basks the room in an ethereal glow, accenting the white marble flooring. He walks up to one of the employees behind a desk, checking in and getting a key to the room. 

In the liberating few minutes away from Chrollo, your eyes sweep the surroundings for any openings. Is it possible to make a run for it for one of the cars outside? He’s fast -- you’ve seen it for yourself -- undoubtedly more than you. Such an obvious attempt at escape will only be met with failure. The lobby is wide open, no possibilities for hiding evident. 

‘There goes that idea.’

Your insistent glancing around the area must’ve given you away, Chrollo placing a warning hand on your shoulder, and giving a firm squeeze. “Let’s head to our room. You must be exhausted by now.” 

Once again offering no signs of protest, you head to an elevator together. Chrollo hits the button with the highest number on it. Ascending upwards, you watch the lights around the rims of the buttons with interest until it reaches level thirty. The elevator adds to your dizziness, a fuzzy feeling budding in your head. 

With a ding, the door opens to reveal a long hallway. Chrollo checks the number on his key once more, before navigating to a room.

Finally, after what feels like forever, he opens the door to your shared suite. The lobby clued you in earlier that this is no cheap hotel, the suite confirming that. Since it’s at the top of the building, the entire city is visible to you. It’s a breathtaking sight, one that keeps you entranced as Chrollo shuts the door behind you. Looking out the window, you see more signs of life as the morning progresses.

The glass opens up to a balcony, the handle locked and cold to the touch. It’s probably not a good idea to walk out without permission, not sure of the act could be interpreted in a negative way. 

Chrollo takes a place by your side, a little too close for your liking. Amidst the beauty before him, he’s more interested in looking at you. “I take it you like the view?” 

“I’ve never been in a place like this,” you tell him, eyes wide and mouth agape at the breathtaking scenery. “If I had known we’d be staying here, I would’ve let you kidnap me sooner.”

“That’s a joke, by the way.” 

He chuckles lowly at your rushed cover up, thinking little of it. “Are you hungry?” 

Now that gets your attention. You can only imagine how wonderful the food here is, and you haven’t had anything to eat since your dinner last night. Having gone so long without food you’re surprised you aren’t ravenous, the kidnapping likely stunting your appetite. Still, you won’t be turning down the offer. 

You nod your head to confirm his words. Chrollo walks over to a phone in the room to place an order for room service, quietly listing off a variety of breakfast foods. While he’s occupied doing this, you look around what will be your residence for the next few weeks. He must not take any issue in your wondering about, seeing as he’s covering the only possible exit. How considerate of him. 

While he’s busy placing an order, you wonder off to take in your surroundings. From the door that leads to the hallway is a small closet on the left, and an expansive kitchen in the middle of the room. To the right of which is a living room, all surrounded by glass windows. That leaves your sleeping arrangement. 

Saving the bedroom for last, your fears are confirmed. You realize that even in such an expansive suite, there’s only a single bedroom, with a king sized bed. Luck doesn’t seem to be on your side. Well, it’s not like you can’t sleep on the floor or couch if the opportunity presents itself. A nagging voice in the back of your mind tells you Chrollo won’t allow for that, unfortunately. 

Plopping yourself down on the right side of the bed, you could almost melt into the comfortable mattress. Tempting as it is to fall asleep, you don’t trust Chrollo enough to give that a shot. Frowning at your fancy evening wear from the previous night, your previous concern about not having any clothes to change into returns. The bathroom did have a fluffy, white robe in it. 

‘That feels too vulnerable... I’ll take my chances with the dress.’

Getting up before you fall asleep, you look around for anything that might be useful. The phone in the living room might be an idea, if you could somehow call and alert the staff of your predicament. Something tells you Chrollo has already taken that into account, and you write off the idea as soon as it appears.

Speaking of Chrollo, he enters the bedroom with an inviting cart of food in front of him. Everything from hashed browns, scrambled eggs, pastries, pancakes, bacon and waffles sit atop silver plates. 

“I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got everything. Help yourself.” 

Not needing to be told twice, you grab a plate and go to town. Chrollo grabs a steaming cup of tea, taking a sip and sitting down next to you. The bed creaks underneath his added weight, you too occupied with eating to care about the implications of his action.

He raises the glass to his lips. “Is there anything else you want to ask me, [First]?” 

Swallowing your previous bite, you give his question some thought. There is plenty on your mind that you’d love to know. A better, more conclusive answer for why he kidnapped you at the top of that list. You recall how he looked detached from reality when you asked him about it on the blimp, leading you to believe that asking again will earn a similar result.

‘It’d be best to play it safe for now.’

“Yes, actually,” you take a bite of a blueberry muffin, wiping your mouth before continuing. “Am I supposed to wear this damned dress for the remainder of this... arrangement?” 

"As lovely as you look in it, no. One of the suitcases has clothes for you, among other things.” 

Blinking at this new information, you wonder if he ever intended on telling you this. In your short time of being acquainted with Chrollo, you’ve picked up on how he rewards you for conversation. Humiliating as it is to play along with his tune, you’ll have to do just that. 

“Other things...?” you repeat back in a faint murmur, showcasing your confusion by tilting your head. Chrollo nods his head in affirmation to this, setting his now empty tea cup on a nightstand with a faint click. 

“You strike me as the type to want something to do, so I went through the trouble of procuring a few of your belongings. A few books, and the like.” 

‘Ah. How terribly considerate of him.’ 

It’s not much, but knowing you have some of your personal possessions is comforting. Anything is better than being stuck alone with him, or your thoughts. The worst possible case scenarios. 

Your meal now finished, you get up and place your dirty plates back onto the tray. Chrollo continues relaxing, eyes still following your every moment. How is he not exhausted? The only thing keeping you awake is your fear of what could happen when you’re asleep, and even that is beginning to wane. Maybe some caffeine will help with that. 

“I’m gonna get my stuff.” you call over, holding your breath in anticipation of a response. 

At his lack of protest, you assume this action is approved of. Helping yourself to the suitcase without a lock on it, you unzip it to find it’s just as he said. Some of your clothes from home, your switch, books, a few offline games, your favorite perfume, shampoo and body wash. 

It’s creepy to know someone went into your residence and took your stuff, but that’s the least of your problems right now. While grabbing a change of clothes, a thought hits you. Looking up towards the phone Chrollo used to call room service earlier, your hand twitches by your side. It’s a temptation, taunting you over the possibility of freedom. 

‘He’s in the other room relaxing. Maybe, just maybe I have enough time...’

Cautiously, as not to alert him of your scheme, you begin to silently tiptoe over to the phone. Time feels like it goes slower, not even trusting yourself to breathe in fear of him hearing it. Hand hovering over your possible saving grace, your fingers grow closer to pressing 9. 

That’s when he appears in the corner of your eye, leading you to hurriedly bring back your hand and straighten your back. 

“I already cut the wires. It was a good idea though.” he calls over from the doorway, leaning against it and smiling in a way that makes your stomach curl. Not a single detail has gone overlooked, but what were you expecting from a mastermind criminal who has managed to go this long without being caught? 

Checking to see if his words hold any merit, you find it’s just as he said. Wires cut in a single clean motion, biting your lip as your hopes evaporate in front of you. 

It reminds you of Tantalus. Who was cursed to be hungry and thirsty forever, in the taunting reach of food and water that’d recede whenever he went to partake in it. An eternal punishment you’re now being subjected to. 

‘I should’ve known it wouldn’t have been so easy. Still, how could he have not made a single sound? I didn’t even hear the bed creak.’ 

Laughing nervously at being caught, you step back as to avoid further consequence, cheeks flushing at being caught in your measly attempt. “Just... checking to make sure all is in order, aha...” 

Walking away from it, you look to change the subject. Chrollo doesn’t seem bothered by your defiant actions, having clearly already anticipated your idea. He rolls out the cart from before, leading you to stiffen when he walks past you. Heart pounding away in your chest, you silently observe him opening the door to place it outside. 

He looks back at your anxious form after shutting the door. “I’d rather not have to constantly monitor you. Whether or not I do will be determined by how you act.” 

There’s a thick pressure in the room from his words, one that pushes down on you like a heavy weight. Unable to maintain eye contact with him any longer, you look to the side, clutching your clothes to your person. Chrollo doesn’t have to resort to infuriated threats or physical violence, his presence commanding enough on its own.

To ease the tension in the air, Chrollo speaks up. “If I happened to leave out anything you need, let me know.” 

Grateful for the change in subject, you nod your head in a daze. From now on you’ll have to be more discreet. Mentally slapping yourself for not giving your earlier actions more consideration, you move on at Chrollo’s lack of reprimanding. 

“Is it alright if I get changed?” you speak up, voice meek enough to remind you of a mouse. Chrollo considers you before nodding his head. You jump at the opportunity to be alone, borderline running to the master bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

Looking in the mirror, you see your frowning reflection staring back. Placing a hand to your face, you inspect the bags forming underneath your eyes. Peeling off the dress feels heavenly, using a wet rag on the sink to quickly clean your body. Showering with a murderer in the other room isn’t a tempting proposition.

Putting on your clothes, you feel like a new person. Straightening up your hair and splashing your face with cold water, you place your hands onto the cool marble counter top. 

‘I’m going to get out of this. It’ll be okay, [First]. Stay calm.’

Finishing your mini pep talk, you fold your previous outfit and place it on the floor. Will Chrollo even allow someone into your room to clean it? Not that it matters, seeing as you spotted a washer and dryer earlier. 

He’s sitting up in bed when you open the door, a book now in hand. At your presence, he looks up to acknowledge you. Chrollo’s dark hair frames his face, and you flush at his admittedly handsome appearance. How are you supposed to remain composed in his company? 

“I can close the blinds if you intend to sleep.” he offers before turning to the next page of his book. 

Oh, that’s right. Now that you’re wearing pajamas he must assume you want to sleep. The next hurdle of this headache inducing dilemma, Chrollo having the expectation of you resting next to him. Eyelids feeling heavier by the second, you wonder how much coffee would be necessary to keep you awake.

That’d still be delaying the inevitable. Coffee or not you won’t be able to stay conscious forever. Earlier, when you fell asleep in the car, he didn’t do anything weird... right? Nothing that you can account for. 

He looks up at you, noting your lack of response. Unfreezing from your prior stiff position, you make the decision to sit down next to the bed. Chrollo most likely wants you where he can see you after your previous stunt, and sleeping on the floor isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Aside from the back pains. 

Making yourself comfortable, you fully intend to fall asleep on the floor. Chrollo closes his book at your antics, coming over to your side of the bed and frowning. “What are you doing?”

“I’m about to sleep.” 

“... On the floor?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” 

Unreadable grey eyes pierce through your being, sending chills down your spine. From your previous interactions with him, you thought a measly sign of resistance such as this one wouldn’t matter. Your initial assessment must be incorrect, as he sends you a disapproving look.

“There’s no reed for that.” he reasons with you, leaving little room for argument. Not wanting to give in, you remain planted in your spot. Without wasting anymore time, he gets up and crouches next to you. You wonder if he’s going to chastise you further for your childish actions. 

He instead lifts you up in a single, fluid motion. A small noise of shock leaves your lips at the sensation of being hoisted up, scrambling to clutch onto him in fear of falling. It doesn’t last long, as he places you down onto the bed with gentleness that you didn’t expect him to have.

Arms receding back to his side, Chrollo returns to his previous position as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. You feel your face burning, a bright red glow coupled with it. The scent of his cologne lingers, memory of his touch flustering you further. 

Clearing your throat to play off the events, you still can’t manage to look at him. “I was planning on sleeping here, actually. Was just testing the floor out.” 

He opens his book back up to its previous page, lips quirking into an amused smile. “I’m sure you were.” 

Having no other options, you lay on your side facing the wall. Muscles taut and incapable of relaxing in his presence, you squeeze your eyes shut to no avail. All you hear is the gentle hum of the air conditioner on the wall, and the occasional page flip from him. 

More time passes, at a snails pace. An hour ago you would’ve entered slumber easily, now it taunts and eludes you. Huffing at your inability to rest, you adjust yourself against the soft mattress. 

Sighing quietly in defeat, you attempt to make conversation to pass the time. “Do you not ever need to sleep?” 

“I’ll be fine for a while longer. Are you concerned for my well being?” You can imagine the smug visage on his face, clear as day. It’s tempting to want to bite back with no, you’re not very worried about his health. You bite your tongue and instead ignore the teasing.

Sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest, you look over at him. His guard is still on high alert even while he’s reading. There’s an immeasurably gap in strength between you two, accented by his casual demeanor. 

“That makes two of us. I don’t feel tired now,” you narrow your eyes in his direction, wanting desperately to know what it is he’s thinking. “Something tells me we’re not going to be sitting here all day.” 

“For a majority of it. I’ll consider taking you out for dinner if you continue acting agreeable.” 

Tempting you with food, huh? It’s a most valiant effort, one that almost threatens to win you over. Especially since cities always have a variety of nice restaurants to choose from. Giving his proposition some thought, you realize there might be a catch. There always is with these kinds of ordeals. 

“What is your definition of... agreeable?” 

Disliking the way the word feels on your tongue, you purse your lips. Dehumanizing is how you’d describe it, knowing that your actions are being analyzed and studied. If Chrollo notices the bitterness in your voice, he doesn’t feel a need to mention it.

“I don’t care much for labels, but I’d equate it to wanting to date you. I told you earlier that I had taken an interest in you, that’s what I meant.” Chrollo explains to you with ease that tells you how much thought he’s given it.

When he had told you he was interested in you earlier, you thought he meant it in an entirely different way. Like how you find a certain movie interesting or entertaining. Now you’re unsure what to think. Mind swarming with thoughts ranging from maybe it’s a good thing, to what do you do now? 

Finally, you deliver your eloquent and delicately woven response, having put every level of care into it. 

“Oh.” 

Glancing over at your dumbfounded expression, he can’t help but laugh airily at your mortified look. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

[peakywitch]

Little Hands - Michael Gray

PART ONE

MASTERLIST

WORD COUNT: 2K

warnings: none (i think this one has angst?)

gif: @oberelias

A knock on the bar door caught Harry's attention. He immediately knew who it was. He opened the door, seeing the young woman from a half hour ago.

"Y/N?" he asked, not understanding anything. A girl of about 17 years, crying at the door of the Garrison. Harry thought he would never see such a thing.

"Sorry Harry, I had nowhere to go..." she sobbed; Harry invited her in and poured her a glass of water as she sat down at the bar.

“Are you better?" he asked her, after a few minutes.

The girl had been staring at the glass of water since Harry had offered it to her. The silent tears kept falling from her eyes. What will I do now? She would go home alone. She would forget about being a teacher and would have to dedicate herself to whatever she could, so her son would have something to eat.

Her son.

Y/N still didn't get it. She was seventeen, a minor, and her ex-boyfriend had just left her. She could not abort, she had found out too late.

"What the fuck am I going to do..." she whispered, asking Harry.

"You in trouble?" he asked, worried that she was hurt.

"Yes, in a giant problem." She replied, drinking more water.

“I think whatever it is, you can work it out. If you have people who want you by your side, you'll be fine." He said, as he rearranged the liquor bottles.

“The person I love doesn't want to be with me, Harry. He said horrible things to me and I…”The poor girl bursted into tears, Harry felt so out of place.

The man, not knowing what to do, approached the small kitchen that was at the back of the bar and took out some pieces of brownie that were carefully protected. When he returned to her side, he opened the noisy bag, filling the Garrison with a strong chocolate smell.

"You know?" he asked “My mother was a baker, and she made the best cakes in town. She made these brownies when I was sad or had a broken heart." He smiled wistfully; Y/N's red eyes focused on him “Last night, I felt a heavy sadness. And all I could think of was brownies." He placed the two brown squares on a gray plate. "I firmly believe, these brownies will heal you a bit." He held out the plate to the crying girl, she tried to grab one "Wait, not yet."

He reached under the bar, pulling out a glass bottle of milk: “There is a kitten that had a baby, and in the morning when I am leaving, I serve her some on a plate outside. But a broken heart deserves a sip to accompany brownies. "

She poured the milk into a pint, and told her she could eat now.

Between brownies, laughter, and some milk, she was able to stop crying and laughed at some stories Harry was telling her.

When night fell, Y/N stayed in one of the rooms upstairs. Harry had offered it to her for free, as Y/N had been very good company while he set up the pub for that Friday night. However, she insisted that she would return the favor by cleaning up on Saturday morning with him. Also, she wanted to see the kitten and her baby.

Ten o'clock at night showed up on the clock, telling Y/N that in two hours this hellish day would end. She was lying with her dress still on. The poor deluded woman had thought she would return home with… Michael. The more she thought about the subject, the more her heart ached.

“I won’t be with you, get rid of him. It would be easier. "

It was final: she would be a single mother.

Michael entered the pub at ten o'clock, tired, nervous, angry, sad, helpless, and heartbroken. He was disappointed in who he was. He had been infuriated by the fact that this new person that he was, had hurt Y/N. Michael could be called Henry, Benjamin, Patrick, or Mirtha. It didn't matter his name, he loved Y/N. So when he walked into the private booth at the Garrison alone, Tommy knew why. How was he going to find her, if she was as far as she was near?

"I thought I told you not to come back if it wasn't with her, Michael." said his cousin.

Gray sat down dejectedly in one of the chairs. He snorted and poured himself a whiskey.

“Looked everywhere. Shit, I even walked into that disgusting station with idiot Campbell. I looked in every square, on the outskirts, I asked in each hostel: nothing. I know her, she got on the train hours ago and she must be in her bed crying." His gaze was so lost on the beer bucket on the table, that he did not notice the knowing looks of his cousins.

“Tom,” said Arthur “go on. Tell ‘im. Look at ‘im.”

John slipped a chuckle.

"Tell me what?" Michael asked, looking at Thomas. "Tommy, if you know something, please tell me ..."

"Michael," tommy cleared his throat, "you well know that nothing happens here without me knowing."

"Here? Small Heath? As I said, I don't think…” the Shelby interrupted his cousin.

“No, here like the Garrison. And I think you forgot that if you go upstairs, you will find a lodging that I mount..."

Michael didn't let him finish, cutting him off as he stood up abruptly.

"You knew all this damn time where she was!?" he roared.

"I have known for a few hours." he answered calmly, after drinking more Scotch.

Before Michael could say anything, Tommy spoke again: "Third door to your right."

And just like that, Michael came out of the booth like a bullet. He crossed the bar quickly, no matter who he shoved in his way. The stairs were climbed even faster, leaving him in a matter of seconds in front of Y/N's door.

He breathed. He realized how nervous Y/N must have been. He knocked on the door with a simple double knock.

Both knocks woke her up, bringing her back into the world. She stopped and approached the door carefully. Meanwhile, Michael was dying of nerves.

"Who is it?" Y/N asked.

"Me." Michael said.

"Who is Me?" she ask.

Y/N recognized that voice, of course she did. But she didn't know who the person with the voice was. She felt totally alien to this Michael Gray. Henry would never, ever have yelled at her.

"Y/N... lovey, please..." he begged.

"Do not call me that way. You don't feel that about me. Neither do I, I don't know you. "

Y/N was being too harsh for her liking, but Michael knew perfectly well that he deserved never to see her again.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you. Please…”he asked, he was about to cry.

"No. Goodbye." She sentenced.

Michael sighed in frustration. He sat in the doorway; he would sleep on the floor if necessary.

Now what can I do? If he opened the door, it would bother her even more. But if he left her alone, he would lose her forever.

"Y/N..." began the boy, and waited for an answer, nothing.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked again.

Silence.

"Well, here goes nothing." He sighed.

“Hello Y/N, my name is Michael Gray. I was born in 1903, and when I was four years old my father passed away. I was taken away from my mother, Polly, when I was five. I had a sister, they also separated us. The government changed my name to Henry. I was in an orphanage for about three years, until the Johnson, a very nice couple, adopted me. I grew up in the suburbs in a beautiful house with an apple tree in the garden. I met my first friend, she had your name, you know? "

Y/N was sitting on the other side of the door, listening to her favorite person speak. When she hear herself in the story, she smiled through tears.

“When she asked me to play family, I always pretended to propose to her. I never knew why. After a while I realized: the girls did not have germs. Then she started to seem like the prettiest girl, then the most beautiful young woman. I was in love with her for several years, I realized late. But one day..." Michael smiled wistfully" One day I plucked up the courage... a year ago and something, maybe. And I told her everything that happened to me with her. She kissed me and we started dating. She would come to my house after school. We would eat apples from the tree and study a little. And then we’d kiss a lot in the neighbor's barn at night. "

Y / N gave a little laugh, and that triggered Michael's pulse.

“Then I reconnected with my family, with the Shelbys. And I was so mad at the Johnsons for keeping my true story from me… they had told me, they’d abandoned me. When Tommy told me the truth, I was blinded by the pain of the lie and the thrill of finding my family. I did not realize that by meeting my old family, I would be abandoning one that was beginning to grow, you know?" They both wiped away tears.

“So, my girlfriend, she came to my homwtown angry, alone and pregnant. She was super, super angry and sad. And she told me everything, and I never felt worse. For having abandoned her, for seeing her cry about it and for abandoning her again when she told me she was pregnant. So..." he sighed "I am this, a simple stranger, who tells the story of his life, to the love of his life. Hoping that she forgives him. Because, you know, I know she knows I'm a bloody idiot. I mean, when we kissed for the first time, I accidentally bit her lip and left a small scar. "

They both laughed, listening to each other and wiping their tears.

“So…yeah. If you ever see her, tell her that for me, I know she doesn’t want to see me.” Michael said, with remarkable sadness.

Y/N wiped away her tears and gently pulled her hair. She stand up and knocked on the door three times. She then heard Michael stand up quickly.

"Who is this?" Michael asked.

"My name is Y/N, can I come into your life... again?" she asked, crying.

Michael's heart began to skip multiple beats and his smile spread across his face. He opened the door and saw his girlfriend standing, tired and crying. When their eyes connected, both bodies exploded into a loving embrace. They were both crying, they missed each other.

"I’m so sorry Y / N, so, so, so, sorry..." he stroked her hair.

"I love you, Michael Gray. But the next time you leave without saying goodbye, I will kill you with my bare hands. "

"Your hands are little, lovey, you can’t." She laughed, while Michael was filling her face with kisses.

"So, wait to see what a woman with little hands does to you at three in the morning when you don't want to take care of your baby."

Michael stopped the kisses and looked into her eyes.

"For a moment I had forgotten." Laughed Michael.

"Oh my God." Y/N joined in on her boyfriend's laughter.

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 6

Chapter 1 || Previous || NEXT

Elevator took her all the way to the highest floor. When she exited, the floor was back to perfect condition and several more plants were awaiting her. She promised them silently to check on them soon and went to the main office. She knocked several times on the doors, but nobody answered. Hesitantly, she pushed the doors open, but no one was in the office. After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

“Didn’t you cause enough drama…” Lila never got a chance to end that sentence, because Mari delivered a straight one strong enough to send her flying several feet back before she came crashing down. Blood pouring from her nose.

The girl was about to launch herself at the liar and pound her into the ground when two strong arms grabbed her. She noticed the characteristic spikes on the sides of black gloves and stated to trash around. “Let me go you overgrown furry!” She screamed. “I will mix her face with the concrete until it’s nice and even!”

She tried to wiggle herself out of his grip. Most of the class surrounded Lila and were trying to help her. It only served to irate Mari more. She kicked her leg back, hitting Batman’s shin. It was finally enough to let her go. The girl fell down... right into the embrace of Chloe and Adrien who managed to get to her on time. The two blondes hugged her tightly. 

“There. It’s alright Goldie. You got her good. Rest.” The girl cooed and pressed her best friend to her chest, muffling the sobbing. Adrien was just silently there and hugged them both. When Batman tried to approach again, the boy sent him an angry glare. The warning was clear and the vigilante didn’t really need anything from the girl right now. 

After a bit, Mari fell asleep in their embrace. The stress finally caught up to her and she couldn’t hold exhaustion at bay any longer. Chloe easily picked her up and started to walk toward a taxi that was conveniently parked nearby, waiting for them. 

“What!?” Angry Alya looked from Lila who was now being cared for by a pair of paramedics. She turned to Commissioner Gordon who was discussing something with Batman. “You!” 

The policeman looked at her curiously. Alya continued her shouting. “You’re letting her go just like that? She just assaulted Lila! She might’ve ruined her modeling career! Arrest her!”

“Miss.” Gordon shook his head. “These are some of the braves men and women in Gotham, but I doubt any of them would dare to try and arrest her right now. They don’t get paid enough.”

“What?!” Several kids started to protest, but Gordon just ignored them and directed Harvey to start taking statements. He wasn’t paid enough to deal with these brats. 

--------

Bruce sighed as he exited the Batmobile. Almost immediately, he was swarmed by the rest of his family. Jason and Dick practically carried him, still in the suit, to the movie room. 

“Now, Ladies and Gents, we have some of the greatest shows for you. We call it… The Demon Trashing!”

What followed was a clip taken from monitoring in the anteroom of the CEO office in Wayne Tower. He watched as Damian, dressed in civilian clothing, and carrying a simple ninjato on his back entered the room. He walked around for a moment before knocking on the main office doors, but whatever answer he got seemed to have irritated him given the scowl that formed on his face. He walked over to the PA’s desk that stood there, but no one was here. After a short moment, one could see the elevator doors open again and a small girl in a smart outfit walked in. Damian dashed to the shadows before she had a chance to notice him. 

Bruce resisted the urge to facepalm. He could already see where this was going. 

When the girl started to walk to the desk, his son suddenly reappeared with the sword drawn. He pressed the blade to her neck. From the angle, it was impossible to see either of them expressions. The man did not expect his son to kill a civilian for trespassing, but the amount of glee on Jason’s and Dick’s faces was suggesting that his headache hadn’t really started.

The girl suddenly grabbed the blade and pushed it away. Damian, probably acting on instinct, tried to cut her, but she just walked out of the way and disarmed his son before knocking him out. There was a short skip to when Jason and Dick entered the room. The small girl was clearly very much irritated with them from the start and when she reached her limits, she used a pencil as a projectile to open the elevator doors. 

A small smirk made its way to Bruce’s face when he saw her storm past his three sons, carrying the ninjato through a tissue. The video ended with Damian waking up.

“And that’s how Drake’s new PA trashed a certain Demon Spawn. I swear, she could probably give Luthor’s bodyguard a run for her money when it comes to being a badass” Jason commented on the silent video in his typical fashion. 

“Tt. She stole my sword.” Damian huffed.

“You mean the sword she later used to stab Riddler’s man before disarming him?”

“I still consider the best part of today when she called B. an overgrown furry,” Dick said trying to hold back on laugher.

“Wait. I have a new personal assistant?” Tim asked half-awake. 

“Yeah. She was supposed to be an intern, but apparently, Sarah hired her on the spot and quit.”

“Oh… Cool.” Tim said and took a swing from his gargantuan cup. 

“Did you manage to pull the video of her taking down Riddler?” Bruce asked.

“The cameras malfunctioned before she even entered.”

“It was me,” Tim confessed. “I was still in my office when the alarm sounded. I keep a separate copy of my suit in a hidden compartment. To save time I dressed there, but I had to disable the CCTV…”

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.” Jason shut him up. “I also got the part when Damian’s eyes roll back as my new screensaver.”

“Tt. You’re lucky I don’t have my sword.”

“Don’t think you’re getting it back any time soon,” Bruce said in a stern tone and sighed. “What exactly do we know about her?”

“She is from Gotham, but she lives in Paris for some years. She said she was practicing martial arts since she was five.” Dick started

“She is also one bada…”

Jason was interrupted by Alfred, who entered the room with a plate full of cookies and tea. “A young woman just called. She asked me to forward a message to young master Damian.”

“Tt. What is it?”

“I quote. ‘Good luck getting your sword back now. Police took it as evidence. Suck it, Wayne.’ I believe the woman was young miss Chloe Bourgeoise.”

Dick, Jason, and Tim were literally rolling on the floor laughing. Bruce just facepalmed.

“No, you can’t break into the evidence room. You might jeopardize the whole investigation if you taint the evidence.” Bruce said in an exasperated tone. 

----------

It was late after midnight (or even early morning, depends on your definition) when the vigilantes returned from the patrol, only to meet Tim and Barbara working on something on Batcomputer in tandem. Whatever it was, they were completely devoted to it since neither realized they had company until Bruce made a coughing sound.

“Not now.” 

“What exactly are you doing?” The father inside Bruce resisted the urge to force-feed Tim some sleeping meds. 

“We’re doing the background check,” Barbara said while typing frantically.

“On my new personal assistant.” The boy supplied.

“oh?” Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“Like… from what we found she is either the worst bitch on the block or strongest badass around.”

“Langauge master Tim.” Alfred scolded him. 

“Sorry. But like seriously! There are so many contradictions.”

“Check this out.” She pulled out a scan of a letter. It was largely creased, but still perfectly readable. “Her adopted parents one day disappeared, leaving her everything they owed sans some of their clothes. It was like they packed and left.”

“You suspect a foul play?”

“I’m not sure. The investigation was a joke and so was the follow-up proceeding. The interesting part is the custody battle that followed.” 

“Jagged freaking Stone and Parisian Mayor.” Tim interrupted Babs. “It ended with a compromise that Jagged was lawfully named her uncle and Mayor became her guardian. She was the one who suggested it.”

“How can one be lawfully named someone’s uncle?”

“Apparently one can in France. Or they just made some concessions to a celebrity. Seen weirder things.” He shrugged. “She was also his designer for years now. You remember that mysterious MDC?”

“The one you used to fawn over?” Bruce asked.

“She is brilliant so sue me.” The boy huffed. “Also, it stands for Marigold Désign et Création. She runs an internet boutique where she takes commissions from both commoners and celebrities.”

“What does it have to do with anything?” 

“I’m getting to that. Gee.” 

“Maybe I will get there?” Babs tried to take over. “She’s been working part-time as a babysitter to get funds to buy materials for new clothes and received nothing but praise. She also became a class representative. A successful one at that. She also holds the national championship in U-17 Mechastrike.”

“How is that important exactly?” 

“You wanted to know everything about her B., so we are giving you everything.” Tim sassed

“Just… get to the important parts.” He shook his head. What did he do to deserve this?

“Fine. Her school records are a mess. Skipping that they wouldn’t hold to any official inspection, they straight-up contradict each other.” Tim waved his hand in some undefined gesture. “On one hand, she receives nothing but praise from the teachers, but at the same time, there are multiple bullying reports and even several assaults in here. Most of them were met with harsh punishments.” Tim opened a separate file. “Too harsh according to the school charter.”

“It didn’t help that the letter from her parents also mentioned these kinds of things.” Babs chimed in, trying to regain control of the tale. Bruce just gave an exasperated sigh. He just gave up and allowed them to solve it, mentally already cataloging the information. 

“Except! There were statements from several people that contradicted this. Especially Chloe Bourgeois. She said, ‘Puh-lease! Mari is the kindest doormat in the world. I was mean to her for years and she still welcomed me back with open arms.’ Given her track record, I’m inclined to believe it.” 

“There was also this Drama, capital ‘D’, with MDC stealing designs. Several tabloids caught the wind of it and it even led to the police investigation. Only after Jagged Stone intervened, the thing quickly shut up.”

“Now onto the juicy parts!” Babs smiled. 

“And that was what? An introduction?”

“Yup. She has a certified black belt in two different martial arts, is a master gymnast, has an IQ of over 130 and owns two separate businesses in Paris.” She quickly read. “As we mentioned, she is the honorary lawful niece of Jagged Stone, but also designed for Clara Nightingale, Nadia Chamack, worked with Gabriel Agreste, was offered an internship from Audrey Bourgeois before she became her ward. She was seen hanging out with Kagami Tsurugi, world-renowned fencer, and Luka Couffaine, the rising star under Jagged Stone’s tutelage.”

“That was fast.” Tim summarised. 

“Yeah. Also, she was adopted some nine years ago. She originally comes from Gotham.”

“Do we know her biological parents?” Bruce asked, getting serious.

“That’s where it gets juicy. When I tried to pull out her adoption files, the computer shut down to avoid detection. There is some serious encryption on it. Probably due to who her father is. We got some of it. She described her mother as ‘wearing an outfit that showed more skin than her beachwear’, so we suspect she was a prostitute.”

“Hm… It’s not unheard of. You say she was with her mother until she was eight?”

“Between seven and nine the file said.”

“Hm… Do you think she is a threat?”

“No. But I have a different question. Why didn’t the league investigate Paris’ supervillain?”

“We were made aware of him only recently, after what our satellites mistook for Poison Ivy attack,” Batman said in an irritated tone. The fact that there was a supervillain running around for close to four years completely undetected grated on his nerves. “Diana Prince has been investigating for some time now. She has it under control.”

“The only problem I see is that she is only sixteen,” Barbara pointed.

“I mean I’m barely seventeen and I ran this company for two years now. And don’t act high and mighty. You started playing Batgirl at fifteen.”

“Played?!” She screamed. 

“You wore a hoodie and carnival mask at first.”

This quickly developed into an insults contest until Bruce finally had enough. He just shook his head and left. Alfred silently followed him, carrying a plate of sandwiches. 

-----

The next morning, Mari woke up in her bed, with Chloe and her curled together in a mess of limbs and clothes. Of course, she panicked and jumped up, waking the blonde.

“Honestly, Goldie, five more minutes. I need my beauty sleep!” She murmured.

“Um… Why are we in one bed?”

“Because you fell asleep hugging me yesterday and refused to let go at any point. I swear I wanted to get a crowbar. Ridiculous!”

“Sorry…” Mari gave her a sheepish smile.

“None of that! You ruined Lila’s face in one punch. Adrien texted me that in the end she lost seven teeth and will require plastic surgery for her nose not to look like a mashed potato.”

“No…!” Her eyes widened. 

“Yup.” Chloe grinned, popping the ‘p’. 

“That’s awful! I can already imagine how much the class will hate me now! And the employees that saw this! There were cameras there!”

“Some people actually applauded you. It could be also because you called Batman an overgrown Furry though…” Chloe’s voice wandered off. Mari collapsed onto the bed, head buried in the pillows.

“Kill me…”

“Can I kill you with hugs?”

“Fine…”

When the panicking bluenette finally calmed down, Chloe got her to sit down and showed her the headlines.

Brave WE employee saves dozens of lives!

A hero without a suit!

Civilian stopped Riddler!

Personal Assistant takes down a dangerous criminal!

They were all overly positive and showed much support. Only one tried to vilify her based on Lila’s comment and her being punched, but it quoted Ladyblog as a reliable source, so it was dismissed. The majority of the comments were also positive. The ‘overgrown Furry’ was already trending too. 

Only one of the articles contained the list of names of people killed in the attack.

Ted Black - a security guard, put himself between the bullet and another employee Sigfried Osborne - a security guard, died when he tried to stop them from entering Molly Bishop - a PR specialist, called the police when she thought the guards were busy Heidi Dickson - a security guard, killed in crossfire Craig Lloyd - an HR employee, wrestled the gun from one of the henchmen before he was shot in the back. Ethel Arson - A lawyer, killed in crossfire Christian Thorn - a security guard, shot two of the riddler’s henchmen in defense of a group of hostages.

Their room had several live plants on the rail. Mari walked to them and allowed her powers to flow. Slowly, the flowers bloomed. She picked seven beautiful flowers and put them on the table.

“Mari… I’m sure they will understand if you don’t come to work today…” Chloe placed a hand on her best friend’s shoulder.

“No… No. I won’t be scared into hiding by Riddler of all people.” She said with determination and some coldness in her voice. She stood up and walked to her suitcase. From there, she gathered a different outfit. Now she would wear a red shirt, a black blazer with the Ladybug logo on her right breast, a black pencil skirt, and black leather ballet shoes (she still hated heels). But the greatest change was her hair and eyes. She let go of her twin pigtails and allowed her wavy hair to run free. It was no longer black, instead turning dark blue with purple highlights. Her eyes also changed. Her bluebell eyes also changed. The iridescent green she used to suppress was now mixed with the normal eye color, giving an entrancing effect that was hard to stop looking at.

“It’s time to rock this place.” She smiled at her best friend.

------- (Play ‘Confident’ by Demi Lovato) --------

Marigold and Chloe entered the Wayne Enterprises in full stride. Flashing her pass, she got them through control without the queue or checking, much to the shock of the class (who still had no idea Mari was now technically their boss). Adrien showed the girls thumbs up. Lila was seething, but neither Chloe nor Marigold paid her any mind and guards didn’t let her follow them and straight-up kicked her to the back of the queue. 

Mari gave a nod to the receptionist, but they didn’t slow down. Elevator was about to close, but one of the employees held it for her. Once they entered, she quickly checked her tablet and the to-do list she had for that day. First stop: PR. Chloe was going to HR to receive a new mentor after… the previous day.

When she entered the Public Relations department, Mari didn’t stop to chat with the employee that looked at her in awe. Her goal was the department’s head office and that’s where she would go. Gently knocking on the doors before entering, she pushed the doors. While she was smiling kindly, her whole posture screamed professional. 

“Hello. Mr. Drake will need the Friday press conference plan adjusted in response to what happened yesterday. There needs to be a mention of the event, as we won’t want to sound too detached. The press would tear us apart. Some gesture to show the public that we care…”

“Maybe a memory board in the lobby? And perhaps schedule Mr. Drake to visit each of the families somewhere next week?”

“I think it will be okay…” For a short moment, Mari allowed her confidence to drop, but she quickly gathered herself and made a note in her calendar. 

“If that’s all…”

“I will also need a press statement no later than by lunch.” She said quickly. “Make it a priority and forward it to me to read before you post it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The man smiled. Mari was about to leave when he spoke again. “And thank you for yesterday. Many people owe you their lives.”

She stopped in her tracks, unable to say a word. Finally, she regained her composure. “Thank you. I… I’m coping.” 

As she left the office toward the elevator, Lila and Alya, who were interning in that department, tried to speak with her, but she didn’t even spare them a glance. Alya tried to grab her, but she was stopped by one of the older employees. As the elevator doors closed, Mari could see the girls receive a serious scolding. A grin made its way onto her face. Lila and Alya would have a really hard life for the next two months. Especially if she had anything to say about it. 

Her next stop was the security office. She entered it with a neutral expression, but it lasted only maybe five steps from the elevator. She didn’t tear up. She was a Gothamite inside. Right as one walked out of the elevator, there was a small bar, behind which a board was filled with pictures. Some looked really old, black and white or even sepia, while some others were high-quality and new. Roughly half of them were the clean pictures one would attach to a resume. The other half were profile pictures from social media. Or a photo that was taken in the forest. One was even a detailed drawing of a person. There were maybe fifty of them in total.

“It’s a reminder. Guards who lost their lives since the founding of WE” An older man said. “Silas Wayne started the tradition after he served in the Great War. You’re here for something miss?”

“Oh… Yes. The security on Friday press conference. We must increase it by about fifty percent. And make sure that only those with invites can enter.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted her.

“Um…” Mari suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable. 

“Don’t worry. It wasn’t your fault.” He said in a comforting voice.

“Thank you, sir.” She allowed a weak smile to enter her face before she left. Only two more stops. 

The elevator next took her to the Legal Department. She had many things that needed to be done here. Chloe met her as soon as she exited the elevator. Mari managed to regain her professional posture and once more emanated the aura of confidence. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep it up, but she was determined to show that she was okay. 

“I already forwarded your requests. At first, Madame McKinsley was reluctant, but apparently, our entrance is already the top corporate gossip. Good job Mari-bear.”

“Good. Thanks, Chlo. Now get back to work before someone sees me get friendly with an intern. I have a plan.” Before they separated, Marigold let a smile ghost her face. “One more thing. You’re free to unleash the foxes of war.”

Chloe lit up at that. Her whole demeanor changed to almost beaming light. She immediately started planning. Mari left her to the devious scheming and instead went to McKinsley office. The head of the Legal Department was a middle-aged woman with short, slightly graying brown hair and no-nonsense composure.

“Miss Bourgeoise informed me of your visit. I already had several documents prepared, but I will need clarification on several things.” She offered the young PA a chair, but Mari refused with a shake of her head. She opened her tablet and started to go through the list.

“First of all, the video that caused the attack was leaked by an intern. What actions exactly can be undertaken in response?”

“There are several options. We could terminate their contract entirely, but as it’s their first offense, it could’ve been seen as too harsh. It would also require to terminate all internships.” The woman was clearly unamused by the situation. Mari just raised her eyebrow and gave her a quizzing look.

“I’m not sure who in their right mind wrote their contracts, but when I track them down they are gonna get their ass demoted to toilet cleaner. It’s one big mess.”

“Don’t I know it…” Mari deadpanned. “So, other options?”

“We can move them between departments, so having them demoted to Toilet cleaners could also work, but it’s not exactly a legal punishment. The fact that it was Riddler really threw a wrench in any legal proceeding as he is clinically insane and the video was not directly calling him out and only speaking about him. I could give you the legal mumbo-jumbo, but the gist is that they are somewhat protected.”

“What about revoking their privileges?”

“Take that to HR.” 

“Will do. Now, about the next matter.”

“It was much easier. She can’t do anything to you, not even forward the bill. You were in shock and there are several recordings showing her taunting you. If she pushes it, she will lose. You’re a public hero right now. Good job by the way.”

“I was only doing what had to be done.” Mari brushed it, doing her best to keep a professional face. 

“Sure…” It was clear that McKinsley did not believe her.

“Now about the last thing?”

“Ah. The slander. I already directed it to our French and Italian departments, but it’s slow-going. That witch made it an international case. It will definitely bite her, but we have to be patient.”

“Brilliant. Thank you for your time.” Mari left the room with a grin on her face. Now onto the HR.

As she strode through the floor, people turned their heads to look at her. In the killing outfit, she looked older than she was and the aura of confidence and professionalism made her seem like a powerful woman. They had no idea just how powerful she was, but the way she carried herself was enough to make them shake in their shoes. 

----

When the doors of the elevator opened, Juleka and Rose were waiting for her. Both looked furious. Before either got a chance to say anything though, Marigold silenced them with a murderous glare that took away their voice. She strode past them looking fabulous. Any other employee removed themselves from her path to avoid her ire. The rumors were already circulating and the fact that she took down Riddler before Batman even arrived did wonder to her image. 

“Hello. I had an appointment.” She said when she entered the head of the department office. 

“Yes. Miss Dupain-Cheng. I was told you forwarded a list of topics, but an intern lost it.”

“Was this intern from my class?” She asked in a cold voice.

“Um… Yes actually.” The woman said after checking a small post-it.

“Then it was probably sabotage.” Mari spat the words. “I asked to have a list of possible punishments in regards to the newest intern group prepared. Two of them were responsible for the leak. Sadly, as one of them is the class representative, she is quite popular.”

“Ah. Well…”

“First of all, both Alya Cesaire and Lila Rossi are to have all possible privileges revoked for breaking the rules. They leaked or were involved in the leak of video. Neither of them is to be handed anything more important than refilling a stapler or bringing someone coffee, to ensure they are no further threat to this company. They will also receive an official warning and an entry to their acts. They are also restricted to the lower floors. If possible, I want their access to electronic devices restricted. Maybe assign them a pager each so it doesn’t negatively impact their work.”

“Hm… I will see what can be done, Ma’am.” The woman replied, already going through her notes.

“Good. Onto the next business, while it pains me to do it so fast, we need to hire more security as soon as possible. But make sure to triple check their backgrounds.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And the last thing. Why was Damian Wayne allowed to bring a ninjato into the building?”

“There is actually no restriction on bringing swords ma’am. We’re trying to fix it, but we’ve been blocked at every turn even when Mr. Wayne was the CEO.”

“And whose permission is needed?” Mari allowed a small grin.

“Yours would do. Sarah was always too stuck up to even leave her desk unless forced so she didn’t care that much.”

“Consider my permission granted. Forward the paperwork to me.”

“And if Mr. Drake disagrees?”

“He can try.” She said coldly, remembering how close she came to being cut in half.

“Oh…”

“Last thing. When is the top floor scheduled for repairs?”

“It should be done already. It was made to withstand an assault from a much larger force, so we only had to replace the furniture. Following the instructions that were left, we repotted the plants into bigger and more decorative pots. As per your request, we added some more plants.”

“Thank you. Plants always calm me down.”

“I prefer cat pictures.” She pointed at the wall where a cheesy calendar with a cat giving her thumbs-up was hanged. It took all of Marigold’s willpower not to burst into laugher at the image of Chat Noir posing for such a calendar.

“Good. Thank you.” With that, she left. This time, Rose and Juleka did not try anything. They were too terrified of her. 

Elevator took her all the way to the highest floor. When she exited, the floor was back to perfect condition and several more plants were awaiting her. She promised them silently to check on them soon and went to the main office. She knocked several times on the doors, but nobody answered. Hesitantly, she pushed the doors open, but no one was in the office. After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

----

NEXT

[orithereticent]

The Song and Tail Left Behind

Crossposted from ao3 chapter 5

Drake didn’t want to lie to Gosalyn, but he also hadn’t wanted to tell her why he was going and that far outweighed the moral implications of lying to his 8 year old daughter. 

He had told her that Duckburg was having problems with the Beagle boys the first time he had gone with Gizmoduck. 

In reality it was more that someone had broken into a chemistry lab and stolen about 40,000 dollars worth of equipment. 

“But that’s not the strange bit,” Scrooge had said, “the robbery happened in broad daylight, and there were no witnesses, even though there were nearly forty people at the scene,” Scrooge paused, “Gizmoduck was one of them, his armour has been put out of commission temporarily, he could do with yer help lad.” 

Darkwing dropped Gosalyn off at the McDuck manor. He was still a little worried about the fall she had taken the day before (next time he saw Megavolt he was going to kill him. Just the look in Darkwings eyes after Gosalyn had been thrown had been enough to send the supervillian running). After looking her over, she had some bruises and cuts she had gotten from playing outside, but was completely unharmed otherwise.

Everyone figured that Darkwing and Gizmoduck would solve the case by the end of the day, even with Gizmoduck’s arm and headpiece being the only part of his armour working.

Darkwing woke up groggy, with a mouth that was so dry it was like he had drank salt, and with a headache that pulsed behind his eyes. The way one wakes up after tossing and turning for hours and only getting an hour of sleep, or like he had a hangover. He didn’t remember falling asleep. That might lend credit to the hangover theory. Biggest problem with that idea was that Darkwing rarely drank, and even rarer than drinking was drinking to the point of blacking out. He had Gosalyn at home after all. 

Darkwing blinked once, his vision blurred. He blinked again, pain slowly starting to flare up. He reached a hand to his chest and brought it up to examine it. Darkwings fingers were stained red. His suit was torn in the sleeves which were stuck to his arms, sticky with semi-dried blood. He forced himself to sit up. He quickly took in his surroundings. Darkwing was in an alleyway next to a garbage bin. The shadows were long, like it was just getting dark. It didn’t appear to offer any immediate danger. A soft cry made Darkwing jump, he turned around, head spinning at the sudden movement. Gizmoduckー no, Fenton, he wasn’t wearing his suit, dirty and bruised, lay right next to Darkwing. He was curled into a ball, arms covering his face. The suit pieces lay a couple of feet away. Darkwing shook Fenton’s shoulder with his less bloodstained hand. It wouldn’t have mattered as Fenton had some bloodstains of his own, but still.

“Fenton?” Fenton didn’t even move. Darkwing shook his shoulder harder, “get up Fenton.”

“M’ma?” muttered Fenton under his breath. He opened a single eye, then closed it.

“Do I look like your Mom?”

“Sorry…” Fenton started, then he started to trail off, like he wasn’t sure who he was talking to. Finally his eyes fixed on Darkwing, “Drake.” 

“Darkwing,” Darkwing grumbled. He was in costume. He couldn’t have his identity getting out.

“Sorry,” Fenton grunted, struggling to sit up, “where are we?”

“Well, right now it looks like we’re behind a dumpster.”

“Oh,” Fenton rubbed his neck, “umm, how did we get here?”

“No idea, last I remember…” Darkwing trailed off, the last thing he remembered was dropping Gosalyn off at McDuck manor… in the morning, it was evening now. 

“You’re bleeding,” stated Fenton, snapping Darkwing out of his thoughts.

“So are you,” pointed out Darkwing. They were battered, bruised, and bleeding, but nothing too serious as far as Darkwing could tell. 

Fenton reached over for the armour pieces, “It’s dead!” he exclaimed upon further examination, “and where’s the other pieces?”

“Fenton, they’re out of commission, remember?”

“No?”

This was bad.

“What do ye mean ye don’t remember?” questioned Scrooge once Gizmoduck and Darkwing had gotten to the underwater lab, (far away from prying ears, Drake had insisted), “how can ye not remember it was nary even an hour ago!” 

Drake opened his mouth to snap back, but instead he pressed a wet cloth to a wound on his chest he didn’t remember receiving. The bright purple cloth had a dusty look to it with some red blood stains for variety. He pulled his cape over his chest.

“I remember getting to the lab today?” offered Fenton unsurely, he rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t quite sure he remembered that much.

“That’s not true,” Gyro said without looking up from where he was examining the Gizmoduck suit, “you haven’t been in the lab today.”

“Oh?” asked Fenton, looking over at Gyro who had coffee in his shaking hand, He seemed surprised by the Gizmoduck suit on the table, “Doctor Gearloose, what happened to my armour?”

Scrooge turned to look at Fenton, surprised but cautiously frowning, “er, lad, do ye not remember what happened yesterday?”

“What day is it?” asked Drake before Fenton could answer.

“Tuesday?”

“No, it’s Saturday,” Drake stated, suddenly sure he was right.

“It’s Thursday,” interrupted Gyro.

Manny turned around and tapped something on the ground. 

“Nay, it’s Saturday, Gyro, ye just haven’t left the lab since Thursday morning, speaking of which Della is driving Fenton and ye home after this.”

“I’m perfectly capable of working on this, Scrooge,” Gyro snapped as he tightened a bolt on the suit.

“Hmmm, ‘perfectly capable’ after being awake for the better part of 72 hours? Lad I watched ye drink caffeine like shots,”. Scrooge answered dryly then in a voice that left no room for discussion he went on, “ye are going home to get some rest and that is final,” Scrooge turned his attention away from Gyro’s death glare and looked directly at Drake, “lad, what’s the last thing ye remember?”

“Dropping Gosalyn off at the front door.”

“So ye remember everything up til a few hours ago?”

“I guess so.”

“Intern, what exactly is the last thing you remember?” asked Gyro, now a bit more interested, but he still didn’t look up from the gizmoduck suit, “you said you remember coming to the lab Tuesday. Is that your last memory?”

“I think so, Doctor Gearloose,” Fenton replied nervously. 

“Odd.”

“This entire thing is weird.”

“Ah meant that ye lost five hours and Mr. Crackshell-Cabera lost 5 days,” replied Scrooge, “let’s make sure ah have this right, ye don’t remember what ye two were doing when the mechanics was robbed.”

“No sir.”

“Ye woke up a couple of kilometers away, behind a grocers, covered in injuries.”

Fenton nodded. 

“Like yesterday,” Darkwing interrupted. 

“Exactly like yesterday lad, multiple people who should have been witnesses, and ye two wake like ye have been fighting, with no memory.”

“Are we really supposed to believe that no cameras picked up on what happened at the mechanics?” asked Gyro with an annoyed look, “I find it incredibly hard to believe that no there were no cameras anywhere.”

“Data was wiped, Dr. Gearloose,” explained Fenton, “phones too.”

That had been Fenton’s first question.

“I’ve got nothing,” admitted Darkwing, crossing his arms. There was silence as Scrooge and Fenton said nothing.

“I do,” Gyro said, setting down his wrench.

Manny, who had been quiet, spelled something out with his hooves. 

“No, not that!” Gyro pointed dramatically at Manny, “I’ve been looking for an opportunity to test some spyware for a while, this just might provide the perfect scenario!”

“Gearloose, whatever happened, whoever robbed the mechanics, destroyed all evidence. It covered it’s tracks completely. How is your spyware supposed to help?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Darkwing Duck, I know what I’m doing.”

It was decided that Darkwing would come back the following weekend, and test Gyro’s mysterious ‘spyware’. 

Darkwing left, driving Gosalyn and himself home quickly. She had a book with her, but honestly it was probably a witch's spell book or something. Just something Webby had given Gosalyn that Scrooge wouldn’t like. There was absolutely no way she was reading a joke book. Darkwing decided he would address the book after next weekend, and promptly forgot about it.

He dropped her off at school the following week and drove back to Duckburg.

It took all day, but just before sunset Gizmoduck was back to fully functioning, and a small tracker had been added to his suit. Gyro had explained that it would also record audio. 

With that, Gizmoduck and Darkwing set off.

“Where to?”

“Good question.”

“We could listen to police scanners until something suspicious happens?”

“Sounds good,” Darkwing flipped on the police scanner he had installed in his motorcycle. 

A disturbance at a local diner. 

A noise complaint in an apartment complex.

Quackerjack was spotted at an electronics store.

“So we’re going to the apartment,” Gizmoduck joked as Darkwing drove in the direction of the electronics store. 

“That’s weird.”

“What part exactly is weird?” asked Gizmoduck, who quite frankly thought the whole thing was a bit weird.

“Quackerjack never comes to Duckburg, he barely leaves St. Canard,” Darkwing answered without looking away from the road.

“So you think Quackerjack has something to do with the robberies and widespread memory loss,” stated Gizmoduck, to which Darkwing nodded.

“I have absolutely no doubt about that.”

Darkwing swerve passed a slow car then swerved back in. Then he braked rapidly. Cars had slowed to a standstill. Darkwing pulled the ratcatcher onto the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?” asked Gizmoduck in alarm. His grip on the sidecar tightened to the point that Darkwing was slightly worried he was going to bend the metal. 

“This is faster!”

“Buー look out!” 

Darkwing slammed the brakes, quickly spotting the problem.  There was a person with dark hair laying unmoving on the ground. They were laying on their back with their limbs sprawled like they had fallen quite suddenly. Laying next to them was a woman in a bright sundress. She was laying face first on the concrete with a single arm covering her face. A bit farther away was a man in a multi-colored tank top and neon green pants. Upon further examination there were about half a dozen people slumped on the concrete. Two of them were police officers. Darkwing killed the engine and dismounted. 

He walked over to the first person. They were alive, he could see their chest rising and falling. He grasped their wrist to feel their pulse. Their heart was beating slowly, but not dangerously so. Like they were peacefully sleeping. He checked the woman's pulse, same deal. Gizmoduck had gotten to a few other pedestrians and some unconscious people sitting in their cars. 

He shook the person’s shoulder, hoping to elicit a response, but they remained unconscious. 

He moved them away so that they were leaning against a wall, then he moved to do the same to the woman. Darkwing shook her shoulder as well, and she rapidly sat up.

“Where? What?” she muttered, confused.

“You were unconscious. Do you know where you are?” asked Darkwing in a hurry. He needed to get to the electronics before Quackerjack left, but it would also be uncouth to leave civilians collapsed on the sidewalk.

“No? Is this not Chickago?” she said, pushing herself to her feet and stumbling towards the person Darkwing had already moved.

“No, you’re in Duckburg,” replied Darkwing, glancing over at Gizmoduck. 

“I’m not supposed to be in Duckburg until next week!” she said, crawling to sit next to the unconscious person.

“I don’t know, but don’t go that way okay? It’s unsafe,” Darkwing told her, pointing towards the direction of the store. 

Then a wall exploded. 

“Case in point,” muttered Darkwing pointing his still extended finger at the sky. He turned away from the now screaming civilian. 

Darkwing ducked down to avoid the shower of stone projectiles. They struck the ground, parking meters and cars like bullets. Gizmoduck, despite moving quickly, was still hit. Maybe it was just more obvious because every stone made a loud clicking sound as it bounced off the armour. 

Darkwing peered over the car he had taken cover under. Out of the debris emerged Quackerjack, something was off about him though, he was wearing a mask that completely covered his face except his eyes, it had a filter on the mouth. He was driving a clown car with no windows and a ridiculous amount of electronics stuffed inside. He also had a gun of some kind. His eyes darted around, settling on Gizmoduck who still hadn’t bothered to take cover.

“Gizzy! I was hoping you’d come! Third times the charm right?” he screeched, laughing as he finished speaking. Darkwing, never one to be outdone, tossed a purple smoke bomb.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night, I am the leaking sink that always drips, I am Darkwing Duー”

“Blah blah blah, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” interrupted Quackerjack, “having some insomnia ducky? Well, I think I can help with that!” He whipped out the unidentified gun and pointed it directly at Darkwing’s head.

 Darkwing Duck ducked behind a wall for cover while wondering to himself why he had agreed to any of this. Quackerjack threw something, a yet to be identified something. Darkwing fired his grappling gun at it. That seemed to do the trick and it exploded into shards and blue mist above Darkwings head. Darkwing suddenly hit the ground. Feeling his arms and legs covered in rope. Which had come from his grappling gun. 

Gizmoduck was just as lucky or maybe he thought his armour would protect him, either way, the other projectile struck him directly in the head. Gizmoduck fell to the ground in a metallic heap.

Quackerjack stared at them for a second, unmoving, then a slow grin made its way onto his face. Quackerjack jumped back, laughing as he drove away with the stolen goods. 

He was gone before Darkwing even got to his feet.

Darkwing swore, searching wildly for… something. Nothing. Quackerjack was long gone. 

Gizmoduck hadn’t moved. 

“Gizmoduck,” he said, kicking the arm closest to him, which achieved nothing, “fantastic,” Darkwing hurried back to the ratcatcher. He tore open the glove compartment and dug through items such as an old junior woodchuck guidebook, some expired aspirin, some purple hair ties, until he found what he was looking for. 

He pushed the airhorn right next to Gizmoduck’s ear, covered his own, and pressed the button.

The loud noise sent Gizmoduck soaring into the air.

“Darkwing! Why?!” 

“Huh, I guess Gosalyn was right, this thing did come in handy,” he said, staring at the airhorn in his hand, he threw it back in the glove compartment, “so, I need to test a theory, Gizmoduck, what day is it?”

“Uhhh,” Gizmoduck said, his eyes closed tightly. Darkwing wasn’t sure if he was thinking or the air horn had damaged his ear, “it’s Tuesday? Oh no, did we lose our memories again?”

“You lost your memory, Giz, come on, let's get back before anything else goes wrong.”

[dc41896]

One Wish

I think this is the first time ever or in a while that I’m posting something on the day that I meant for it to come out lol😂. Hope you guys like it and that everyone has a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays💕!

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: Mentions of pregnancy, brief concerns about problems conceiving, fluff other than that though💕!

“Mommy!”

“Hey- what’s wrong?” Picking up your sniffling little one running towards you, he rests his head in the crook of your neck as a fresh set of tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

“River and Kyle were talking about Santa and the North Pole when their classmate interrupted saying how Santa wasn’t real,” Chris explains leaning against the counter still holding onto his son’s Spongebob backpack. “And apparently he called them babies if they still believed in him.”

“He is real...right?,” his tiny voice quivers breaking your heart.

“Do you believe he is?”

“Yes,” he nods lifting his head.

“Then he’s real,” you smile kissing his forehead.

“I knew it! I said so, but he won’t listen.”

“Well don’t worry about him. He’s just jealous because he’s probably on the naughty list,” you state causing a little gasp to leave his lips.

“That’s not good.”

“I know. But hey, why don’t you go wash your hands and then you can help me with cookies? Think that’ll make you feel better?”

“Mhmm! And watch Nightmare Christmas with Jack!”

“Yea bubs we can watch Nightmare before Christmas too,” Chris chuckles watching River excitedly climb down to get his bag and hurry to his room.

“Let me guess, Devin?,” you ask moving throughout the kitchen getting everything you’d need.

“Yep.”

“I know I shouldn’t say this, but that kid really gets on my nerves.”

“Babe,” he laughs with head slightly bowing forward.

“He thinks he knows everything and then his parents just think it’s sooo precious, ugh.” Stopping you from walking past again, you feel both of his strong arms hugging you to his chest rubbing up and down your back.

“Aww did Devin make you upset too?”

“Yes he did and I don’t wike it,” you answer poking out your bottom lip as you look up at your giggling husband. Leaning down, his lips sweetly peck yours twice before staying attached for a few seconds longer making you smile as his nose brushes against yours.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm,” you nod making him laugh once again.

“I’m ready!,” River beams running into the kitchen with Dodger on his heels. Stepping his bare feet atop Chris’, still in his sneakers, holding his arms up he lifts the excited child to sit on the counter beside him with legs dangling over the edge.

“Alright what kind of cookies do you want?,” you ask turning to the desert section of your cookbook.

“Chocolate chip! With extra chocolate.”

“Really? You sure you don’t want worm cookies? With extra slime?,” Chris jokes making River shake his head in disgust.

“Eww! No daddy, chocolate chip.”

“You hear that babe? He wants coated frog lip cookies. I’ve never heard of that but if you insist..”

“Noo chocolate chip!,” he giggles as his cheeks become covered in kisses from his father. Mixing all the dry ingredients in the large glass bowl, River carefully cracks the eggs, with the help of Chris, and adds the rest of the wet ingredients before moving to scoop in the chocolate chips. Multiple times throughout the process you have to stop them from trying to eat the entire bag only making them get more creative on how to sneak more when you weren’t looking.

Or thought you weren’t at least.

Once everything was cleaned following the cookies and dinner, and River got to watch his favorite movie while happily tapping his feet to every song, Chris took the yawning child to get ready for bed leaving you to do the same for yourself. As if on cue, by the time you were sliding into bed trying to get comfortable having showered and finished your full nightly routine, there was your husband softly closing the door behind him with a piece of paper in his hand laughing to himself as he approached the bed.

“What?,” you ask, amused as he lies across the foot of the bed propping his head up with his hand and bent elbow.

“River gave me his list for Santa that he made in class.”

“I’m sure it’s filled with toys,” you and Chris both chuckle.

“See for yourself.”

You sit up taking the red and green bordered paper from his outstretched hand preparing yourself for quite possibly the most outlandish requests from the current look on his face.

“Dear Santa, I’ve been really good this year,” you begin smiling at your son’s slightly shaky handwriting and occasional misspelled words. Continuing down the paper, Chris’ eyes stay fixed on you waiting for your reaction when you get to that special part.

From your extended pause and furrowed brows as you bring the letter a bit closer to your eyes, a chuckle leaves his lips as he crawls up the bed lying cheek down on the pillow beside you and his large hand slides under your, well his, oversized graphic tee gripping your hip.

“But what I really really want is a baby brother or sister this Christmas so we can play at home with mommy and daddy and all of us have fun,” you read aloud looking down at your husband.

“Yeaaa...”

“What are we gonna do?”

“Well,” he smirks gently draping your leg over his jeaned hip as his thumb grazes back and forth over your recently moisturized skin. “What kind of monsters would we be to not grant our child’s Christmas wish?”

“Chris you know it doesn’t happen that fast.”

“We could get the ball moving at least?” Leaning up to kiss your neck, you feel his teeth and lips taking turns nipping at your ticklish skin making you giggle as you try to nudge him off.

“Christopher..”

“Okay, okay. I honestly don’t know. We either tell him ahead of time, hurting his feelings when he’s already sensitive about Santa from earlier, or we wait that morning and he still gets his feelings hurt. Either way I feel like it’s a lose lose.”

“Pretty much.” There’s a comfortable silence as you both try to ponder the best option. His fingertips drifting up and down the back of your thigh still across him while you rake through his hair.

“Maybe he’ll get distracted with all his other gifts and forget about it?”

“You really think our son is gonna forget?,” he chuckles shifting to look at you with a raised brow. Moving to give you more room, you lie down with a sigh slightly concerning Chris with the conflicted look on your face.

It had always been the tale-tell sign that you were overthinking and your anxiety might soon take over. “Hey, you know this isn’t some way to force you to have another baby right?”

With a simple nod, your head moves to his chest and hand drops from his hair to the medallion crooked on his chest.

It’s not that you didn’t want to have another one, you were anxiously waiting for the day you’d hold that stick that read positive in your hand again, or the doctor to tell you congratulations as you sat on the obnoxiously loud paper covering the leather seat in the exam room. After your false positive last month though, doubt and worry began to overshadow that excitement.

“Talk to me,” he softly states bringing you out of your thoughts, his other arm wrapping around your body to rub your shoulder.

“It’s just...I can’t get what happened last month out of my head. What if it happens again and we find out I can’t get pregnant anymore? Or what if we do and get excited...and-,” Before you could stop them, tears trailed down your cheeks onto his shirt as he held you closer trying to soothe you.

“Shh, hey it’s okay.”

“What if it’s not? Whenever we’ve talked about kids you’ve always said how you wanted a big family with a house full of kids running around.”

“It’s not all about what I want though Y/N. This marriage isn’t just me.”

“I know but I still want you to be happy,” you mumble, sniffling as he sits up looking at you as if you were crazy.

“You think I’m not happy? Babe you and River both have made me happier than I’ve ever been and will always make me happy.”

“I didn’t mean that you weren’t happy now...,”

“What, you think if you couldn’t have anymore kids I wouldn’t be happy?”

Avoiding his eyes as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, you hear him sigh as he leans closer holding your chin in his warm hand for you to look into his blue pools full of sympathy. “Sweetheart I didn’t marry you for your ability to have kids, and if you can or can’t doesn’t dictate your worth. I was just as happy when it was just us as I am now that we’re three, which won’t change if we become four, five, or so on.”

“I hope that so on doesn’t go on forever. I thought our absolute limit was four?,” you softly speak making him laugh.

“As I was saying,” he continues, the back of his finger wiping away your tears. “Would I mind having another? No, but only if and when you’re ready. And if you tell me now, tomorrow, or next year you’re done then that’s it, and I will still be the happiest man with my stunning, intelligent, hilarious even though she doesn’t think so wife, and perfect son who never fails to make me smile.”

Your hand finds the nape of his neck as you close the remaining space between you and your lips collide in a slow, yet passionate exchange as if both of you were trying to embed the feel and taste of each other’s lips on your own.

“Thank you,” you whisper, smiling against his now red lips.

“I love you Y/N. Remember that nothing will ever change that.”

“I love you too.”

———

The house is peacefully quiet as your eyes open to see the ground and trees outside covered in a light blanket of snow that still steadily fell from the grey sky above. Careful not to wake your husband who, from the sound of his snores, sounded like he was in a blissful sleep, you turn your body to face his planting your face in the crook of his neck arched perfectly for you to fit. A long, quiet breath leaving your nostrils as your lips curl into a smile, your arm falls across his tattoo littered abdomen and hand dangles along his side.

Your fingertios lazily dragging along his ribs eventually makes a small shudder spread through his body as he pulls you closer. “Hand’s cold,” he mutters with eyes still closed.

“Sorry,” you whisper slowly retracting your arm until his larger hand grabs yours bringing it to the side of his head as he trails kisses from your palm to the middle of your forearm. Long lashes fluttering against his cheeks, he reveals those heart stopping eyes as a drowsy smile appears on his lips.

“Merry Christmas beautiful,” he groggily speaks making you giddy from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Merry Christmas.” Your hands rest on either side of his head as you lower yourself meeting the corner of his mouth before moving to his pouted lips.

“Shh Dodgey let’s go look,” you both hear causing you to separate with knowing smiles on your faces.

“Let’s go before he opens everything.”

Natural light breaks through the thin curtains as you and Chris quietly make your way to the living room, him in his sweats and solid red shirt, and you in one of his hoodies on top of your own grey sweats. You both stop at the doorframe watching him walk all along the twinkling tree admiring his presents and even peaking behind to see what all was hidden along the back wall.

“Did you two start opening presents without us?,” Chris asks startling River before he smiles, running up to the both of you and hugging your legs that respectively stood right next to the other.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!,” you and Chris speak at the same time as he lifts the excited child to sit on his hip. Both of you sandwiching him in as you each blow raspberries on one of his cheeks, an eruption of giggles soon follows after.

“Look daddy! The cookies and carrots!,” he shouts pointing to the table with two empty plates and half empty glass.

“I know! Santa wanted me to tell you thank you, and that the reindeer loved the carrots.” You have to stifle your laugh seeing your son’s eyes go wide in shock as he stares at his father with this new revelation.

“You know Santa?!”

“Of course! He calls parents throughout the year to help make his final decision on the naughty and nice list,” Chris answers, smiling when River turns to look at you with the same amount of shock.

“You too mommy?!”

“Yep! We had a long chat last night before he left.”

“Did he see my list? Is a baby coming?!,” he asks with big brown eyes looking back and forth between you and Chris. You knew this moment was coming, but you’d never be prepared for the hurt you’d feel seeing your baby boy disappointed.

“Um..as of right now there isn’t gonna be one bubs,” Chris answers leaving him confused as his little eyebrows furrowed together.

“Why?”

Meeting each other’s eyes, neither of you expected to be having “the talk” this early with River. But settling on the couch where he sat in Chris’ lap ready to intently listen to your every word, you’d just have to try your best.

“Well sweetie, it’s not really Santa who’s in charge of that. It’s the...um...baby fairy!”

“Baby fairy?”

“Yea, she’s the one that makes sure the baby is perfect. And once it’s ready, she’ll deliver it to the mommy’s stomach where it’ll grow until it’s time to be born.”

“How-how does she know when to make it mommy?,” he asks tilting his head.

“That’s a very good question. Um...well uh...Chris why don’t you answer this one?,” you suggest completely catching him off guard. His pleading eyes meeting yours that read “Too bad, I’m not doing this all by myself”. Clearing his throat, he nervously smiles down at River now giving him his full attention.

“Uh...she knows because...there’s a signal that rings a uh bell and that tells her to start working.”

“What signal?”

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide your laughs seeing Chris redden by the second. You could swear you even saw a bead of sweat forming on his forehead as he nervously chuckled raking his brain for his next answer. Hearing your muffled snort, he shoots you a playful glare as you mouth a quick sorry before petting Dodger to distract yourself.

“The signal is a...um handshake. But it’s a very special one that is filled with lots and lots of love.”

“Oh...okay,” River replies, disappointment evident on his face that he wouldn’t be getting the gift he was most looking forward too.

“There’s one last important thing about the baby fairy though,” you state tilting his small chin to look at you. “She works all year round. So, just because there’s no baby now doesn’t mean there won’t be one later.”

At that, his cheeks perk to a smile and eyes become bright again as he crawls over to hug his arms around your neck.

“It’s not the signal, but I write her too just in case.”

“Sounds good,” you smile kissing his cheek. “Now go ahead and open your presents so we can go to grandma Lisa’s.”

He quickly scrambles to his feet motioning Dodger to follow and help unwrap the gifts making both you and Chris softly laugh as you scoot closer together.

“Very special handshake?,” you repeat in a whisper as he drapes an arm over your shoulders.

“Hey it’s the best I could come up with on the spot okay. And baby fairy? Why not stick with the stork?”

“Because a bird carrying a baby from who knows would’ve been more difficult to explain, and it’s the best I could come up with on the spot okay?” Mocking his voice, you feel a pinch on your side replacing the smirk on your face with shock from the small gape of your mouth. “Did you just pinch me?”

“I don’t know, maybe it was the pinch fairy,” he shrugs standing up to help River with his presents before you could do or say anything back.

Within an hour, the living room had turned into what you’d describe as the end of the workday at Santa’s workshop from the ripped wrapping paper that was scattered along the floor, along with discarded plastic and cardboard once containing toys that now lied out in the open waiting to be played with again. It made both of your hearts swell seeing how happy River was with each of his presents. Every few minutes he’d walk up to either one of you tugging you down to place a kiss on your cheeks adorably thanking you for everything. He wanted to bring all his new toys to Lisa’s so his cousins could see and play too, but was convinced to bring his top two after being told, and shown, that all of them wouldn’t fit in his bag.

Walking through your bedroom door that evening once returning home, the clock on the bedside table reads 10:13 pm as you both fall back on the bed. As usual, Christmas Day at his mother’s was filled with lots of laughs, exchanging of more gifts, food, playful sibling rivalry between Chris and Scott that ended in both of them being fussed at by Lisa and told to settle down once they got too loud, and of course the kids playing all day with their new toys.

Needless to say, you both were tired.

However, the house was uncomfortably more silent now with River spending the night and remaining weekend at his grandma’s along with his other cousins. It was something new Lisa wanted to start to give you guys a short break for yourselves.

“Babe? You sleep?,” Chris cautiously asks in a hushed tone.

“No, and honestly I don’t know if I’ll be able to. It’s different not having River here.”

It was his first time spending the weekend at someone else’s place, and while you knew it would be a good experience for him and he’d be fine, the protective momma bear in you couldn’t help but worry. Grabbing your hand, he lifts it to his lips kissing your knuckles.

“Yea it sounds even quieter that we’re alone.”

“Mhmm.”

“...And it’s gonna be like that the whole weekend,” Chris smirks, peeking over at you to see if you came to the same realization as him.

“Yep,” you sigh, eyes still towards the ceiling.

Clearly you hadn’t yet.

“First time we’ve been alone for that long since he was born. House completely to ourselves. Not worrying if he’s doing something when it gets too quiet because it’s only us.”

Giggling to yourself, you turn to lie on your stomach lightly trailing your nails from the hairs of his beard down the middle of his chest and abdomen.

“So what you’re saying is that we’re absolutely, utterly all alone? In this big, cozy house?,” you ask tracing the tattoo right below his bellybutton feigning confusion as a hearty chuckle escapes his chest. Sitting up on his elbows, his hand caresses your cheek as he leans forward teasingly brushing his lips against yours. His hand shifts to the back of your neck pulling you closer to connect your lips in a breath taking kiss that leaves you wanting more once he pulls away.

“Exactly,” he lowly whispers. “Thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yea,” you breathe out, biting your lip. “We have all the ice cream to ourselves!” A giddy smile forms on your lips hopping over your husband looking dumbfounded.

“Um y-yea...not really what I was thinking but..”

“And then after,” you start pulling him up to stand with you. “We can really start being alone. Like in the bed, and the shower, and the kitchen counter-.”

“And? You’re preparing for a busy weekend huh?”

“Plenty of chances to perfect that special handshake for the baby fairy,” you smirk. A squeal leaves your lips as you’re lifted over his shoulder with both hands inadvertently tickling your inner thighs from his grip.

“I like the way you think.”

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[aspenflower17]

Finding You (Part Five of ??)

Good morning/afternoon/even/night (which ever one applies to you)! I have another update for you guys! If you’re just joining us, the link to Part One will be down below. You can find the links to the next part at the end of each part (if something is wonky with the links, please just let me know!)

Part 1 

F!Mc / Satan

Tags :D :  @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed 

Word Count: 2,083 (story under cut)

Triggers or warnings: angst

Satan growled as he redid his bowtie once again, Lucifer’s words still echoing in his head.

“Are you sure you need to go tonight?” Lucifer was standing on the ground floor of his room, while Satan got ready on the landing at the top of the stairs.

“Yes. How many times are you going to ask me that?”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to go opening night.”

Satan hoped Lucifer could hear his eye roll, “I can’t imagine why, unless the fact the artist is an angel has your panties in a twist,” the indignant noise Lucifer couldn’t contain made Satan snicker quietly.

“That isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is? You have never had issues with me going to an art show before. I heard Lord Diavolo will be there, so I can’t begin to imagine why I shouldn’t go.”

“Why do you want to go?”

Satan walked all the way over to the railing to give his brother an incredulous look, “Did you seriously just ask me that?” Lucifer took a stance that meant he wanted an answer, making Satan sigh, “Well, why wouldn’t I? I’ve heard about her art in the human realm. I haven’t been able to see any of her works unfortunately, but I’ve read the reviews. If nothing else, I want to say I was at the opening night of the first art show for one of the Celestial Realm’s up and coming artists, which you know doesn’t happen very often. The last angel I can think of who received any mark of recognition for their work outside of the Celestial Realm is Simeon.

“I also think it’s important at least one of us brothers attends the show, which I figured you’d agree with. You’re constantly going on and on about how important our image is and how we need to make sure to ‘understand the gravity of our positions down here as demon lords and as the Avatar’s of Sin’. You’ve already stated you won’t be going, and I have been planning on attending since I heard about it. I really don’t see what the problem is.”

Satan saw a flicker of worry cross Lucifer’s face multiple times while he was talking. He must really not want me to go. But why?

“And you’ve made sure none of our brothers can go with you?”

“Yes. In fact, I’ve asked Levi twice and had a soda bottle thrown at my head the second time for “making him lose the level he was on. I asked both Beel and Belphie three times, which they both declined, Beel stating he would rather stay home because they never had enough food at show openings and Belphie saying he didn’t want to get thrown out of one again for curling up in a statue to sleep. Asmo would come, but he got invited to some party the same night.”

“... What about Mammon?”

Satan blinked a couple times before his brain even began to process what Lucifer had asked, “Huh?”

Lucifer seemed to blink himself, though it could’ve been a trick of the light, “You didn’t mention Mammon.”

Satan opened and closed his mouth a couple times before being able to respond, “You want me. To ask Mammon. The Avatar of Greed. Who steals. And is loud. And uncouth. To go to the opening night of an art exhibition. For an up and coming artist. Who has never shown in the Devildom before. And is an angel… Do I have that correct?”

Lucifer’s resolve looked to be in tatters, and Satan thought he’d drop the whole thing before his resolve returned, “Yes.”

Damn pride.

“You must be joking.”

“If you don’t ask him, I will personally assign him to go with you.”

Satan really couldn’t believe his ears, “Assign him to go with me? Do I look like I’m nine? I do not need a chaperone. I-” the look in Lucifer’s eyes made him stop mid-argument. Is he really that worried?

“Fine, I’ll text him if you’re going to be so insistent. I will only ask once however, and if he does come, I am NOT responsible for his behavior.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ve never been ta a art… Whas it called again?”

“And art exhibition.”

“Right, right. Thanks for invitin’ me Satan.”

“Mammon, we need to go over some ground rules here.”

“Course. Whadda ya wanna talk about?”

“First thing, art exhibitions are places of class and refinement. Please, stay quiet and respectful of the atmosphere.”

“Course I’ll do tha’. I’m great at blendin’ into the backgroun’.”

Satan cringed, but continued, “Second, if you steal anything from anyone, I will personally see to it that you are ejected from the show, and thrown into the labyrinth below Diavolo’s castle.”

“OI! Show ya big brother some respect!”

“We are not getting out of this vehicle until you promise me you’re not going to steal or otherwise take things that don’t belong to you.”

“Fine, fine! I promise. Geeze.”

“Third, just please don’t embarrass me. I sent you that page on gallery etiquette for a reason.”

“I read it, don’ worry… Uhhh, Satan. Not to change the subject, but why da ya have a long tie on, an’ not ya bowtie?”

“I… felt like it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan was extremely suspicious. They had been at the show for over twenty minutes, and Mammon had been better behaved than he’d ever seen him before. He’d even made fairly intelligent remarks about the art. He hadn’t left Satan’s side, but had been quiet enough Satan had forgotten he was there multiple times. Lucifer would’ve been more conspicuous. Satan kept expecting to have to reprimand him, but the time never came.

The gallery space was very large, one that was reserved for shows the demon prince hand picked. The space was set up like a labyrinth, and each bend had something new to display. The center of the show held a large, site specific installation. The art itself was very good, better than what Satan had assumed he’d see, but what really struck him was the breadth of the work. He marveled at how one person could produce so much art and in such varying mediums.

“Enjoying the work?” a random demon drawled, sidling up next to him.

“Yes,” he replied, taking a step back.

“You know, there’s a dead end just around the corner. The art in there is extremely… Exciting. I can show you, if you’d like,” the demon closed the space he had created, and reached out, their hand lightly grazing his arm.

“I’m fine where I’m at, thanks.” Satan started to walk away, and an exasperated sigh followed.

“I’m not sure you understand. The art is extremely stimulating. I really think you’ll enjoy it,” a hand was now grasping his arm.

“I said no,” Satan stated, extracting his arm from their grasp.

“Oi! Satan! You gotta come see this photograph,” Mammon interrupted the exchange, his loud behavior back, but eyes keenly trained on the unwelcome newcomer.

A strangled gasp came from the demon, eyes growing large, “Ah, hello Mammon,” another gasp and an audible step back, “Lead the way. Excuse me.”

The second born started rambling, but got quieter the further from the demon they got, until they both fell into silence. “Thank you,” Satan acquiesced finally.

“No need for my brother ta have ta deal with that,” Mammon said softly. Satan didn’t push any further, them both saying what they needed to.

The continued walking for another while, when the soft music that had been playing overhead was replaced with a voice, “I would like to thank you all for coming out to Jane Doe’s exhibition. As all of you know this is her first show in the Devildom, and I am so pleased at the turnout. As much as we’d love to have you all here at the center with us, but we hope that putting the artist talk over the loud speakers will be enough for all of you still in the labyrinth.”

“Jane Doe? Ain’t that wha’ they call dead humans?” Mammon asked, talking over Diavolo.

“Well, often it’s used for unidentified female human bodies to be specific, usually a murder victim. The use is mostly as a placeholder for unidentified, anonymous or hypothetical parties to a court case in some human countries. An obvious pseudonym, and one I find rather amusing and clever. I’m rather put out we’re still in the maze. I was hoping to be at the center by now. I guess this will have to do. It’s really smart to-” Satan stopped, his eyes growing huge and intense.

“Ya okay?” Mammon asked uncomfortably.

“Shhhhhh!…” Satan demanded, his ears now only trained on the voice above him. He could’ve sworn he heard…

“... And of course, I had to see if she would hold a show here in the Devildom. I’m just so excited to finally have her art down here. Anyways, I’ve taken up enough of her time. Everyone, please welcome, Jane Doe.”

“Thank you Lord Diavolo. That was such a kind introduction. I for one am so excited to have been invited to show my work…”

Satan was moving before he knew what he was doing.

“Oi, Satan, wait fer me!”

“Then move faster!” Satan called behind him, starting to run. He had no idea where he was going though. He wasn’t good with directions at the best of times, and this was meant to confuse him. Mammon caught up with him quickly, seeming very conflicted.

“Mammon, you’re better at directions than I am aren't you? Get us to the center of the maze, now!”

“Bro, I don’ think I can-”

“Are you deaf?! Did you not hear her? That’s Mc! I need to get to her, now!” Mammon didn’t seem surprised at the revelation, instead looking a little sad. Satan felt his anger flare as the realization hit him, “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Only cuz Lucifer told me, an’ that was earlier this evenin’. He wanted to make sure someone was aroun’ ta keep ya from goin’ crazy.”

Satan quickened his pace, his anger lending him more speed, “Of course he knew about this and didn’t tell me.”

“He was watchin’ out fer ya.”

“I don’t care what he thought I was doing. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

Mammon looked extremely conflicted, but eventually burst into demon form and flew up to see over the walls. Many demons were aghast at seeing someone flying in the gallery, it being against etiquette, but Satan didn’t care at the moment.

Mammon started flying forward, and Satan followed, only looking down enough to make sure he wasn’t going to crash into an art piece. That did not account for other demons however, and many indignant cries and shouts followed him.

“We’re pretty close ta the center Satan,” Mammon called down.

“I’ve always thought…” Mc continued, but Satan couldn’t focus on the words. He could only marvel at her voice once again in his ears and focus on going as fast as he could. Her laugh rang out, and Satan’s heart jumped. It’d been so long... 

“Hmmm… What was that? Oh, okay. I didn’t realize I’d been talking for so long. Apparently my time is up, but I’ll finish this up on Devilgram. You can find me at...”

“Quicker!” Satan shouted to Mammon after hearing Mc.

“We’re not gunna make it,” Mammon yelled back down.

“We need to go faster then!”

“I’m followin’ ya pace! If ya wanna go faster, you gotta go faster.”

Satan finally relented, and switched into his demon form. With his new power, Satan moved faster and Mammon matched his pace.

“It’s the next bend!”

Satan threw everything he had into covering the final distance of the hallway. He rounded the bend to find…

People milling about, discussing the talk, some extremely confused as to why it had been cut short. Satan looked on the stage, carefully crafted into the installation piece. Nothing. They were even removing the podium.

He sank to the floor, breathing heavily. Mammon touched down beside him, not wanting to bring attention to himself.

“Is she in the Devildom for long?”

“I dunno.”

“Where is she staying?”

“I dunno.”

“How close were we?”

“Real close.”

“Did you see a way out? I’m going to start breaking things if we stay here.”

“There’s a underground passage in the room,” Mammon held out his hand to Satan, who took it, not looking at him.

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As always, thank for reading! If you would like to be put on the tags list, just ask below!  I love me some likes and comments, and I love discussing Obey Me with people, so feel free to comment or even message me if you want! If you enjoyed, I also REALLY appreciate reblogs. I promise, you reblogging makes a huge difference to content creators, and each new reblog helps someone else find this fic, so thank you to everyone who does.

Part Six

[asian-hero]

Taking the Space Out of “Girl Friend”

A/N: Okay, since no one is requesting Momo, aka the woman who stole my heart, I’m taking this into my own hands (also, kinda wanna write a poly relationship with Momo, Shouto, and (Y/N) so let me know if that sounds interesting)

Summary: Momo Yaoyorozu is the perfect girl. She’s smart, pretty, kind, and she can even make any non living thing with her quirk. What else could you ask for? Although, she could stand to gain the ability to read the room better.

In other words, you attempt to tell Momo how you feel about her, only for her to assume you mean platonically. You know, as a “gal pal”

Words: 2,668

“Momo, I like you,”

She looked up from her homework, starring at you quizzically, “Oh, well I like you too!”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, I mean I really like you. More than a friend,”

Pausing, she furrowed her eyebrows together, something that, while normally you found endearing, now you found outright annoying. How could someone look so cute and be so smart, yet be so dense when it came to confessions? Before you could even take it back, she smiled at you, and you could’ve sworn that you felt a beam of light shining from her.

“I think of you as my best friend as well! I’m so glad you told me!”

Feeling your eye twitch, it took almost every inch of self restraint to not just kiss her right then and there, to show her that you wanted her more than as just a “best friend.” Unfortunately for you, you both had no nerve to do so, and you also didn’t want to risk it. So, you feigned a smile, reaching out and patting her hand.

“Yeah, best friends.”

That was three weeks ago. Three weeks ago that you tried to tell Momo, your “best friend” and resident goddess of class 1-A that you liked her. No, not as a friend, though you didn’t mind being that. You wanted to tell her that you liked her romantically, but every time you try to, it either ends up with you losing your nerve, or her taking it the wrong way. No matter what you did, it seemed like she thought you were just being a good friend, all the compliments and cuddling and hand holding, all because you were a good friend. At first, you thought she was just trying to be nice and reject you kindly, not wanting to jeopardize your friendship, but after multiple attempts and questioning the rest of the girls, but now you’re wondering if she’s really just that oblivious to your advances. Either way, you were so close to pulling your hair out.

This is what led you to your current situation: laying out on your best friend Todoroki’s floor while you complained about the woman who seemed to live in your head rent free. 

After your daily attempt to get Momo to realize that you had a crush on her had tired you out, you sought out the one person who would let you rant to your hearts content without judgement. Since this was a regular occurrence for you to just waltz into Todoroki’s room, it was no surprise to  him when you slammed open his door, kicked it shut, and slumped down onto the floor.

After a few beats of silence, he cleared his throat. “So, Yaoyorozu?”

Your obnoxious groan was all the answer that he needed. Setting down his pen, he turned around in his chair to face you, or, your corpse-like state that you’d taken to. 

“Are we going to sit here in silence or are you going to complain?”

Lifting your head up, you sent the boy a particularly nasty glare. You could see the ghost of a smile appear on his face, amused that he’d gotten a reaction out of you. Lifting yourself up, you flopped back down, this time on your back. As you stared up at the ceiling, you let out a lengthy sigh.

“This has got to be the tenth time I’ve told her that I like her,” Rubbing your face, you let out a frustrated sound, “No dancing around the bush, no being coy about it. I straight up told her that I like her, and she always tells me that I’m being such a ‘good friend.’ ”

“Ah, that’s rough.”

You snorted. “Thanks, Zuko.”

His response was throwing a crumpled piece of paper at your face. Sputtering, you sat up, sticking out your tongue in a childish manner. Once the two of you settled down, you frowned.

“Seriously, though, how many times do I need to tell her ‘I like you’ for her to get it? I mean, it’s not like I know if she even likes girls, so maybe I’m just being pushy. Oh my god, Todoroki, what if she doesn’t like girls? I could be making her uncomfortable and—“

“(Y/L/N), stop,” Seeing your panicked state, he moved closer, making sure that he gained your attention, “You’re being ridiculous. If Yaoyorozu didn’t like you she’d tell you. She isn’t that cruel.”

Tilting your head back, you took in a deep breath. “I know that, but I can’t help but feel like that.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, neither of you sure of what to say next. In all honesty, you were just glad that he was there with you, because you’d probably end up spiraling if it wasn’t for him. As much as you loved Momo, you were starting to get a little tired of pursuing her. You didn’t know just how much more you could take of her obliviousness. As you sat there, getting sadder by the minute, Todoroki finally spoke:

“We don’t have school tomorrow, right? Why don’t you just invite her on a date, and you can tell her how you feel,” He flicked your forehead, “With a bit more emphasis on the romantic part of your feelings.”

Rubbing the back of your neck, you looked towards the floor, feeling yourself grow hot. “I don’t know, what if she doesn’t even want to go?”

You could tell that he was starting to grow annoyed, with the way his breathing changed and his posture stiffened. Before you could even comment on it, he grabbed your phone, typing a quick message to the girl of your dreams. Gasping, you tackled him, trying to wrench your phone away from him.

“What the hell are you doing? Give it back!”

Your attempts were for naught, as he wasn’t even breaking a sweat trying to keep you away. A few seconds later a message was sent, asking Momo if she wanted to meet you at a local cafe, just the two of you. Looking as your message went from delivered to read, you let out a cry of embarrassment. Slamming your phone down, you pointed a finger at the boy.

“I can’t believe you! What makes you think I’m ready for this?”

He looked at you as if you were the stupidest person on the planet, “You’ve been trying to tell her for weeks! How is this my fault?”

“Yeah, but now I have to tell her without the crutch of ignoring her at school! If it were with a bunch of people, then I’d have no problem, but since it’s just the two of us—“

You were interrupted by a quiet ping coming from your phone. Hesitantly, you reached to pick up the offending object, carefully reading Momo’s message. After a few more seconds of silence, you felt yourself sink back onto the floor, sounding similar to a balloon losing its air. Your hands went to cover your face, not wanting anyone, specifically Todoroki, to see your embarrassed state.

“So,” He cleared his throat, unsure of how to proceed, “I’m assuming she agreed?”

“I’m meeting her at ten,”

He raised an eyebrow at your behavior. “Isn’t that a good thing? Why are you acting like she just rejected you?”

“Hey, Todoroki, I’m gonna need you to do me a huge favor,” You completely ignored his previous comment, too busy in your own thoughts instead.

“What is it?”

Looking at him directly, you spoke: “Turn me into an ice cube and chuck me into the ocean,”

You didn’t get the response you were hoping for, and instead you were chased out of his room and left with your own self-deprecating thoughts. To be honest, you were excited to hang out with Momo, but that didn’t mean you weren’t terrified of what was to come. When you told her how you felt about her, how would she react? Would she feel the same way, or would she just completely drop you as a friend entirely? You found yourself spiraling as you kept thinking of all of the negatives that you didn’t realize when you had passed out. 

The only reason that you weren’t late for your “date” with Momo was because she had texted you, like the lovely person she is, saying that she was excited to see you. That was what shocked you awake at nine in the morning, and caused you to take five minutes out of your day to let out all of your panicked energy. You were able to manage, though, as you pulled through and got ready, albeit a little slower than usual, and by the time you were out the door it was a quarter till ten. 

By the time you reached the cafe, you noticed Momo anxiously fiddling with her skirt. Walking towards her, you put on your bravest face and steeled yourself.

“Hey! Did I make you wait long?”

She seemed a bit startled by your boisterous entrance, as she jumped ever so slightly from her seat. Once she realized it was you, she let out an adorable smile, one that could melt even the coldest of hearts. “You’re fine, I just got here a little early,”

Taking your seat, you looked at the coffee in front of you. Tilting your head, you looked towards Momo, who seemed to be watching your every move. Once your eyes had met, she ducked her head, her face turning a nice shade of pink.

“You like iced coffee, right? With two pumps of vanilla syrup?”

You were surprised that she remembered your order, after all, the two of you had only gone out for coffee a handful of times before this, and you were usually with the rest of the girls. When you took a sip of the beverage, you let out a content hum, smiling back at the girl. “This is perfect, thanks.”

She seemed to grow even pinker at your words. “Ah, I’m glad you like it! I was worried that I’d gotten the wrong drink, or that it wasn’t the same as you usually get it, or—“

“Momo,” You started, giggling a bit when her attention snapped back to you, “It’s good, really. Don’t worry about it,”

She nodded her head, taking a few deep breaths before drinking her own beverage. As the two of you sat in silence, you couldn’t help that your eyes began to wander. You couldn’t help that your eyes travelled from her own, her beautiful gray eyes that felt almost like staring into a galaxy, to her cute little nose, all the way to her lips, which you guiltily admit that you’ve thought about on more than one occasion. You refused to let your eyes wander any further down, because firstly, you didn’t want to seem like some pervert, you knew your boundaries, and secondly, you knew that you’d end up flustered, and then she’d ask why you were flustered, and then the whole date would be ruined. 

While you found yourself lost in thought, you didn’t notice that Momo was staring at you in a similar fashion, though she was a bit more subtle. Through quick glances she wondered just how unfair it was that you could look so beautiful while doing the most mundane things. She wondered how one person could make her feel a million butterflies all at once, and how one person could be at the center of her attention at all times. 

At first, she thought her feelings were ones of jealousy. After all, you seemed to excel at anything you put your mind to, and it didn’t hurt that you were pretty. But, after getting to know you better, and hanging around you, she realized that the feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn’t an ugly one, no, rather, it was one of the most amazing feelings a person can experience.

She never did allow herself to tell you about them, though. It was too scary for her, she thought that you’d reject her immediately, and then she’d be left alone. No, she’d rather just keep to herself, where her feelings would be safe, and she could keep you by her side. It was certainly hard for her though, with all of the compliments you’d drown her in, and all of the times you’d remind her that you liked her. It’d get her hopes up, but she’d immediately crush those thoughts. She wouldn’t let herself feel those emotions.

But, in this one instance, with the both of you not so subtly checking the other out, the two of you had reached the same conclusion: you were both tired of hiding.

“Momo, I—“

“(Y/N)—“

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before letting out awkward laughs. She gestured towards you, smiling comfortingly.

“You go first,”

Looking at her, you calmed your nerves and nodded.

“I like you, Momo,”

Her face grew puzzled, as if she wasn’t quite sure what you were getting at. “I like you too?”

You groaned, shaking your head. Grabbing her hands you tried again. “No Momo, I like you, romantically.”

It took a few minutes for her to process your words, before erupting into the brightest shade of red imaginable. 

“You mean—“

“Yes,”

“So, all this time you were—“

“Yes,”

Looking down at your entwined hands, she found herself even more puzzled than before. This entire time, you actually liked her? As in, the same way that she liked you? Was she dreaming? This had to be a dream, things like this wouldn’t happen to her.

As she was dealing with her own inner monologue, you felt yourself grow insecure. The devil on your shoulder was telling you that you made a huge mistake, that you made her uncomfortable. Puling your hands away, you rubbed the back of your neck.

“We can just, forget that this happened. Sorry,”

Momo’s head shot up, and for the first time, you noticed a look of desperation on her face.

“No!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but you understood nonetheless. “Yeah, I figured as much. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—“

She shook her head, taking your hand back in her own to silence you. “That’s not what I meant. I like you too,” Even though she felt so vulnerable and exposed, she kept eye contact with you, “In  a romantic way.”

It was your turn for your face to heat up. You were either sleeping or dead and in heaven, there was no other way that this could be happening. Using your open hand, you went to pinch yourself. After feeling the sharp sting, you looked back to your intertwined hands, then back at her.

“This is,” You paused, trying to process everything, “Real?”

She giggled at your response. Once you saw her nodding her head, you couldn’t help but break into a huge grin. Squeezing her hand, you leaned closer, so that the two of you were inches apart. You could feel her breathing stop, and it took everything in you to not laugh. As you got even closer, you saw her eyes flutter shut, and although you very much wanted to kiss her, you didn’t want to rush into things. So, you opted to kissing her cheek, your lips pressing against her soft skin. 

As you pulled away, you noticed the pout she gave you, though the blush staining her skin lessened the “menacing” effect. Laughing, you pinched her cheek, taking a sip of your drink.

“Maybe on the next date,”

When she hurriedly proposed that the two of you go out again tomorrow, you couldn’t help the warm feeling blossom in your stomach. Smiling, you agreed, wanting to get as much alone time with her as possible. 

Though the two of you were inexperienced when it came to relationships, neither of you really cared. After all, you got the girl, and that’s what mattered the most.

[harryspet]

Guarding Genevieve - h.s.

[Warnings] harry styles x named oc, girl!sub x dominant!possessive!jealous!boy, bodyguard, spanking, handcuffs, angst, mild violence

In which genevieve sneaks away for the evening and her loyal bodyguard finds her and decides to punish her for it.

word count: 1.8k

Gen should've been happy that she was on some beach in a beautiful foreign country and away from the dangerous men who had intentions of hurting and even killing her. Still, she missed her friends and her family back in the states, who she wasn't allowed to contact anymore. For the past month, the only "friend" she's had was Harry.

Harry was a sad excuse for a friend.

He was an attentive man. Ten years working for the special forces of the government will do that to you but how did that teenage girl manage to slip from his hands. He was getting his usual four hours of sleep and, usually, he heard everything that went on in their house but, when he woke up at two in the morning, he felt something was wrong.

He picked up the gun that always sat on his nightstand and focused his hearing. He checked her room and found the form of her body laying between the sheets. He almost brushed off his feeling of worry until he realized that her chest wasn't slowly rising and falling. He walked over and pulled back the comforter, finding an array of pillows instead of a human body.

Fuck, he cursed mentally. Her father wasn't paying him six figures to lose her.

It only took five minutes to search the rest of the house, put on some clothes, tuck his gun in the waistband of his pants and file out of the door. As he expected, the car was still there which meant she had made it out on foot. The little rich girl never learned to drive because she had always had a chauffeur. Thank God she couldn't be far away.

Knowing her, the young lush, she was probably at the nearest bar or club.

"Where are you from?" The blonde-haired boy with sun-kissed skin, a local, asked her. They had been flirting for at least ten minutes and he had bought her a drink, thankfully, because she had no money on her. Harry was in charge of the financials. However, she did have a little black dress that helped convince him.

"Chicago," She lied. She ran away from the man keeping her safe but she wasn't stupid enough to tell a stranger any personal info.

"Never been," He said, "I can imagine why you'd want to get away. The scenery here must be much better."

She nodded, "Yeah," She sipped her bloody mary, "I like the views here very much," She did this thing, gave men this sparkly-eyed look, that would bring men to their knees. Every man except Harry of course. 

The bar was right on the ocean and she was definitely right about the views, "So how long are you going to be in town?"

"Just for the night," She lied again, "I really just wanted to do something fun before I get back to reality, you know?"

"Fun, huh," He bit down on his bottom lip as he thought for a moment, "Let's see, my buddies and I have a place on the water just a few miles from here. We could hang out, have some more privacy if you want."

"I would love some privacy," Her words had a double meaning, of course, because Harry had been invading hers for the past month. They had a few more drinks and laughs before he paid the bar tab and they headed out to his car. 

He was about to take her hand when Gen realized she left her jacket inside, "Hey, stay right here, give me one second," She said before turning around. The jacket was where she left it but, when she returned, her hot date was not where she had left him.

"Dude, who the fuck are you?" Surfer guy cursed, angry that the devil himself was blocking him from getting in the car.

"Harry?" Gen spoke, eyes wide.

Surfer guy turned to face her, "No, it's Hayden, remember?"

She shook her head, "Not you," Harry stepped forward and grabbed onto the surfer guy's shoulder, pushing him roughly into his own car. "Harry, stop!"

"She's not interested, Hayden," He said his name with such distaste, "You can kill yourself drunk driving but she will be staying with me."

He was obviously too disoriented to fight back. Even when he tried to push Harry away, he stumbled. "Fine, keep her, cause I don't fucking want her," Now surfer guy was looking at me with distaste.

She opened her mouth to say something to the surfer guy. She was so close to defending him and screaming at Harry but the words that left his mouth took her back. Maybe she was more trouble than she was worth.

Harry stepped back and she could feel the anger radiating off of him, "Fucking bitch," she was looking down so, at first, she thought those words came from Harry expressing his anger towards her. Turns out that it was Hayden and there were exactly three seconds between him uttering the last syllables to when Harry's fist collided with the surfer guy's face.

"Harry!" She shouted after it all happened so fast. She had never seen him like that. He looked crazed. Surfer guy doubled over and then was kicked in the stomach several times.

When he was done, he grabbed Gen and pulled her away from the scene. I had no doubt that someone from the bar had witnessed the brutal scene and was in the process of calling the authorities.

The car he drove here was still running and the way it was parked suggested that he was in a hurry. Now, she was the one being pushed up against the car. His whole body was pressed into hers and his hand was around her neck. Not enough to cut off her air but enough to scare her. "I don't like killing people, love. It's not my favorite part of my job so, when you put me in situations like that, I get extremely frustrated."

He wasn't yelling but his voice was so loud in her ears and the outside world had gone silent. She gritted her teeth as she tried to push him away. "I hate you!" It only resulted in him grabbing her arm, turning her body around, so now her front was pressed against the metal. "Let go, Harry!"

"Does it seem like I'm trying to be your friend? I'm not the one with ten million on my head. I'm the one trying to keep you safe and keep my job in the process."

She felt him reaching into his pocket for something and she heard the jangling sound of metal before something clicked around her wrist. She was in the tropics but all the heat she was feeling was coming from him. There was a mix of anger and something else that she couldn't recognize.

"Harry," She whines, the metal digging into her wrist, as he forces her into the passenger seat.

"Just be grateful I'm not putting you in the trunk."

"Ugh!" She let out a frustrated breath of air, kicking the door, before finally slouching and accepting her fate. 

She watched from the window as a man exited the bar, he looked like the manager, and she heard Harry as he coolly informed the man that he was a bounty hunter and I was the criminal he was charged with capturing. Apparently, she was a crazed meth head who’d gone on a crime spree. 

The drive back to the house started quietly, the tension thick between them, mainly caused by how hard that Harry was gripping the steering wheel. "I don't understand it," He finally broke the silence, "You were going to sleep with him of all guys? Some random one you just met?"

His question took her back. They had spent the last month together yet this was the first personal question that he had ever asked him, "I wasn't going to sleep with him . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"No? Then what were you going to do? Have a romantic dinner?" He scoffed, the sarcasm dripping from his tone. 

"Why does it matter?" She blurted out, "So what I was going to spend my night with someone else that wasn't you? Are you jealous or something?"

He fucked up. He got quiet and gave Gen the answer that she wasn't expecting. He knew Gen believed he had a cold heart but even he grew attached to the people around them. Especially the ones with beautiful smiles and unbelievable confidence.

"You're jealous!" She displayed a shocked look on her face. If she could cover her mouth right now, she would have. "Oh my God, Harry-" The car skidded to a halt and Harry pulled off to the side of the road.

"You're infuriating, Genevieve!"

"You like me," She was teasing him now and, although she was cute, Harry couldn't stand it.

"It's not that I like you," He corrected her, "It's that I rather you not die."

"You like me, Harry," Now she was grinning wildly.

"Genevieve-"

She interrupted him with her sing-songy words, "Harry likes me-"

It was a risk. Bolder than any risk that he had taken and the man had chosen to pull a trigger multiple times. If it was one thing that he had over her, he could change the situation quickly and he did because, seconds later, he had her bent over the middle console.

"Fine, I like you," He admitted but he had the upper hand, literally, set on her bottom. He lifted her dress and there were no more songs from her. He had taken the words from her and instead of fighting him, she found herself anticipating what was next, "But there are still rules you have to follow. Just because I like you doesn't mean that I will let you disobey me."

She jumped, squealing, as he brought his hand down on her bottom, "You're sensitive. I haven't even hit your bare bottom."

"You – are – not – to – leave – my – sight – little – girl," He punctuated each word with a spank to her bottom, causing the girl to squeal and struggle in her restraints.

She wanted to speak but her voice had disappeared as she grew more embarrassed. "If you act like a spoiled child then I will discipline you like one."

"O-Okay," She stuttered out, scared that he'd deliver one of his exciting smacks again. And with her face so close to his crotch, she didn’t want to risk anything else. "I-I get it–"

She was interrupted by the hardest spank, "And you'll address me as sir, always, and you will speak when you are spoken to. Understand?" She could practically feel the smirk growing on his face.

When she hesitated, he spanked her red bottom until she finally got the words out, "Y-Yes, Sir!"

His hands rubbed over her bottom, which stung at first until it didn't anymore. He seemed to have gotten out all of his frustration because he began to run his hands through her hair, "Things are going to be different from now on, Genevieve, but I think you'll get used to it. You might even enjoy it."

Then he did the worst thing she could've possibly imagined. He felt the crotch of her panties which were completely soaked, even to her surprise. She didn't know how she could be turned on by someone literally hitting her, "No, you'll definitely enjoy it, Genevieve." 

+

This is one-shot but if someone request another part (and gives me an idea of what they want to see) I could make a part two! If you want to read more of my work just check out my #masterlist !

[aiorevelations]

A Number, Not a Name: Part 18

Enjoy everyone!

4 months earlier:

Regis scanned the fragment of paper spread out across the table before him. Not even a month ago he was a desperate man chasing the shadows of his lifelong mentor. What he’d found in the jungles of South America had been nothing short of a profound revelation. The ancient words inscribed held the key to changing humanity. From the very beginning, he had believed deep within his soul that what Professor M spoke of was true. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew it. Though he’d never have suspected that the place which possessed what he sought was merely some speck on a map. A hamlet of small-town America. In the end, though the where didn’t matter. What mattered was that he attained his goal. Failure was his greatest fear. After what he’d sacrificed to get this far he wasn’t about to fall short an inch away from the finish line. Like Professor M had. When he stumbled upon he’d found a broken sickly old man barely clinging onto life. Filled with regret and sorrow that though he literally held in his hand the culmination of his life’s work, he would never live to see it. Regis had vowed that would not be his fate.

Fate, however, was a funny thing. Previously Dr. Blackgaard had possessed adequate resources yet lacked the knowledge he required. Now just when he had attained the necessary knowledge his funds were depleted. Alas Professor M had died, weighed down in debt, and without any assets to further fund Regis’ research. Dr. Blackgaard was one to keep his research away from prying eyes. The last thing he wanted was to inform anyone of his discovery. Who knows what might happen. Word could spread to the general public if that happened it was game over. Blackgaard was well aware however that the little venture he was starting in Chicago wouldn’t provide him with the funds he needed. The choice was before him. Either choose not to share his work and lose any chance of funding or take the chance and inform potential investors of his findings. When put that way there was only one option - the latter. “Blast” he muttered under his breath.

He rolled up the parchment and stood up from his chair, grasping his walking stick as he sat up. Pacing back and forth on the wooden floor he tried thinking of someone who would work as a potential investor. Blackgaard’s mind raced. Too many people had their motives and agendas they were trying to serve. The last thing he wanted to be was someone’s puppet. He’d rather give up his work altogether than be a pawn in someone else’s game. It has to be someone who has enough resources yet can be easily fooled. Someone obsessed with power and ambition that they’d do anything to obtain it - even trust a complete stranger. A person who is so full of themselves they’d never think anyone could bring them down. Sasha meowed, interrupting Blackgaard’s thoughts. He stooped down and picked up his faithful feline companion. Softly, he stroked her neck and behind her ears, prompting a deep purr from Sasha. “Oh, Sasha…Now, who do we know who’d be aware of someone like that.” 

Blackgaard had a long list of reliable contacts. Men and women spread across the globe. People who were aware of plots and schemes of power and the people behind them. Blackgaard’s polished shoes thudded on the packed earth as he circled the jungle cabin, left exactly as it had been when Professor M died. Professor M’s research notes and documents were packed carefully in boxes that were neatly stacked. His personal effects and clothes were strewn throughout the room. 

Regis placed Sasha down on the floor and walked to where Professor M’s trunk was located in the corner of the small hut. He opened the lid and searched through it until he found a notebook. He scanned over the pages looking for a particular name. An old contact of theirs who Professor M had known even before he met his esteemed mentor. They had come to value her greatly. Every secret or scheme going on she always found a way to find out. Finally, Regis' eyes landed on the name he was searching for. Blackgaard knew she was the answer. 

…..

4 months earlier:

Liana stared blankly ahead. She was busy pouring coffee yet her mind was somewhere else. Today would have been Erik’s birthday. She tried to push it to the side and carry on waitressing, but the memories would come flooding back. Picnics in the park. Splashing each other in the lake. The way he’d shower her with flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day. 

Liana had known she’d never be able to have peace until her father and all those responsible answered for their actions, but she at least thought with time she’d be able to have a sense of healing. Instead, the more time passed the more angry she became. She should be spending these years with Erik. If he was here she was certain they’d have been married by now probably with children. Living a happy and beautiful life. She’d been robbed of that life and forced to live a cold and lonely one. 

“Liana!”  Hearing her name, she snapped out of her thoughts.

“Uh sorry. Millie. What is it?”

“You’re pouring coffee all over the counter.” Liana glanced down and saw she’d overfilled the coffee cup, causing the liquid to flow all over the countertop. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She set the decanter down and grabbed some napkins from the dispenser.

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed distracted all morning.” 

She wiped up the spilled coffee. “I’m fine.” Liana picked up the coffee cup and walked to a table by the shop window. 

She set the piping hot coffee on the table. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thanks so much” the man graciously responded.

“Would you like anything else?”

“No, this is good for me. Thanks.”

“Of course. If you need anything please let me know.” She forced a smile and began to walk to another table where two women were waiting to order. Halfway to the table, she stopped. Her eyes were drawn to the television mounted in the corner of the room. An image of a man’s face caught her eye. His familiar features, grey hair, wrinkled skin, piercing black eyes, matched the image she’d seen in person on multiple occasions. One of the faces seared into her head for the last nearly five years. There was no mistake, the man was none other than Davit Dalmar. Below his image was the headline “Breaking News: Davit Dalmar, CEO and founder of Dalmar Petroleum, announces run for Krudian parliament.”

Liana found herself chilled to the core seeing his face. It took her back, back to that night. The worst night of life. She holding her dying boyfriend in her arms, knowing there was nothing she or anyone else could do. She bit back her lip and took a deep breath. No, she wouldn’t break down, especially in a Budapest cafe. 

What was that expression? The past has a way of catching up to you. She’d always planned to go back. To go home. Deep down she knew what she had to do. That pain. That anger. That overwhelming feeling of loss. It was still there. Burning in her soul stronger than ever.  She knew she’d never be able to move forward unless she went backward. Nevertheless, when it came to confronting her past she’d find herself paralyzed. Unable to go back. Memories of Krudia, her father, Eric haunted her. Every street or shop in Bulin came with some painful reminder. The very thought of stepping off the airplane filled with her dread and terror.

But now seeing Dalmar had served to remind her of the men she’d left behind. And of what she’d lost. He was a monster. Him and her father both. She felt another wave of anger surge through her. In what world was it fair that Erik was dead and Norvan and Dalmar were still breathing? How could someone be so heartless as to take him from her without a second thought? How could people, like her father and Dalmar, find pleasure in killing others? She may have thought the removal of some malevolent individuals necessary but never took pleasure in their demise only in the justice being served. One thing couldn’t be denied: her father and Dalmar were insane. They had to be brought down. Any reservations or fears she had, Liana knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She was done running from her past. 

…..

Present-day:

Jason woke, tied to a chair. Ropes dug into his wrists. Beads of sweat trickled down his face, or perhaps blood, though he wasn’t sure which one. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. He appeared to be in some type of warehouse. Above him, warehouse pendant lights flickered the only source of light in the room. 

It all came flooding back to him—what he'd prayed had been only a nightmare—The car chase, men shooting at them, Tasha slumping forward on the steering wheel ….

Tasha. His heart began to race and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Where was she? He prayed she was still alive. He frantically glanced around him but saw no one. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if his earlier actions had caused this. 

He struggled to loosen the ropes that bound him. Straining he turned every which way trying to free himself. It was no use. He let out a scream of frustration and lowered his head. A feeling of helplessness and utter loneliness consumed him, His head throbbed but the physical pain he was experiencing didn’t compare to his overwhelming guilt.

It’s my fault. The words stabbed through his mind. I got us into this. I shouldn't have acted recklessly—Why didn’t I just stick to the plan? Why did I have to be so stubborn? He shook his head. I wanted so desperately to prove myself that I ended up screwing everything up. If I get out of this I’ll probably have to resign. The last thing the NSA wants is someone who can’t complete a routine mission, let alone their first assignment. Who knows, maybe that’s probably for the best anyway. Donovan saw right through me. My flaws and weaknesses…how careless I could be…and I proved him right. Now not only is the mission ruined but Tasha’s life is in danger because of me. If she dies I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

He glanced up at the ceiling. Right now he didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. His whole body felt numb.

There was nothing he wanted to do, nowhere he wanted to go. Nothing mattered anymore, except doing everything he possibly could to right his mistake. To make sure Tasha was safe and if possible successfully complete their assignment.

Whoever was behind this would probably hurt him. The thought barely registered in his mind. He knew he should feel something. Dread. Fear. Anxiety. But he didn’t. All his thoughts were turned to Tasha. They could do whatever they wanted to him. It didn’t matter. He would willingly sacrifice his life without hesitation if it meant they didn’t touch her. At that moment he knew he was powerless. There was only one thing he could do. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

…..

Tasha’s eyes darted around the room, her eyes landing on the metal door to the side of her. She felt something digging into her skin and realized she was tied up. Tasha lay against the wall struggling to recall previous events, how she’d ended up here. Her mind was blank. The last thing she remembered was leaving with Jason for the gala. She looked down at her clothes. Instead of the dark blue dress, she remembered she was wearing light pink pajamas. She looked around the room. The floor was layered with dirt. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the room. Jason was nowhere in sight. Who knew where he could be. For all Tasha knew he could be lying dead somewhere or being mercilessly tortured. 

The door creaked open causing Tasha to look up. An older muscular man entered the room followed by a tall brown-haired woman. 

It didn’t take a genius to guess what they were probably after. Information. Luckily, Tasha thought, she’d been briefed and trained how to resist such efforts. She sat up in her seat and braced herself for whatever was coming, though she couldn’t help the shivers that traveled down her spine. 

Milena’s eyes met Tasha’s. Tasha tried to read them yet they seemed nearly expressionless. The man’s on the other hand were easy to read. They were deathly cold.

Milena spoke. “I have to say that was quite a showing back there. Very impressive. My hired men are known for their efficiency. You and your associate were their hardest targets ever by far.” She crossed her arms. “So congrats.”

Tasha kept a blank expression on her face. "You might as well just skip to the end. I’m not saying anything.” 

“Who said anything about getting information? I’m not so stupid as to waste my time trying to get intel out of an NSA agent.”

Elias walked over to Tasha “Never saw that coming did you?”

Tasha looked him directly in the eyes. “Can’t say I didn’t. If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t waste my time either.” Fear trembled through her, but at the same time, there was a defiance in her eyes. Even in face of danger, she wasn’t one to submit or hold back on fiery comebacks. 

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. He glanced at Milena. “I like this one. Too bad we can’t keep her around.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be the best company anyway.” Tasha glanced at the metal door beyond Milena and Elias. There was one question she had to ask. Though a possible answer filled her with dread. Life had a funny, even almost cruel way of unfolding. Not even a few hours ago Jason and she had been going at it and now here she was worrying over his safety. Though she was still deeply angry and upset at Jason for what he had done, all that mattered to her right now was that he was alright. “Is…he okay?”

“He’s alive if that’s what you’re asking,” Elias replied.

 A wave of relief washed over Tasha. At least she and Jason were both alive. When it came down to it that alone only mattered. A dark thought crept into her mind. But then again who knew what their captors had in mind for them. Perhaps it would have been better for him not to survive, that might have been a merciful fate.

Elias stepped closer to Tasha. Then, from under his black shirt, he unslung a small black pistol from his belt.

Tasha’s mouth began to run dry and her heart began to race. Elias twirled the gun on his finger, only increasing Tasha’s uneasiness.

She ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed on Milena. “You know, you seem like a straight shooter so I’ll cut to the chase. Why exactly do you need us? If you’re not after information I fail to see the point.” 

Milena gave a small laugh. “Aren’t you a fast talker? Trying to hide your fear?”

“No, my boredom.”

Milena clasped her hands. “Let’s just say I need you both for a plan of mine.”

Tasha eyed her confusingly. “What kind of plan.”

“That would be giving things away now would it?”

“What things? Are you working for Dalmar?”

Pain flashed across Milena’s eyes at the mention of his name. It was only there for a second and was gone as soon as it came. Not before being noticed by Tasha. “Dalmar, that monster. Heck no! Your whole plan of bringing him down is still happening. You and Edward are just playing a different role than you originally planned.”

Tasha found herself shocked by Milena’s revelation. However, she made certain not to show her surprise to those in the room. Basic training - never show your opponent what you’re thinking. 

Milena turned to Elias. “Would you give us a moment?”

 He glanced from Milena to Tasha and back to Milena again. He placed his gun back in its holster. “Sure.” The door clanked shut behind him.

“I know what you may think of me and I can’t say I blame you. I’d probably feel the same way too…but I just want to say that I admire your tenacity. I respect what you’re doing.”

Tasha leaned forward. “Really. I would never have guessed. If you respected my mission, why interfere with it?”

“Trust me. I had my reasons. The justice I’d get from your NSA wouldn’t be enough.” She spoke, a hint of sadness showing in her eyes for a brief moment. 

From the first time she laid eyes on her Tasha could tell that the woman standing in front of her wasn’t a hardened criminal. That there was something beneath the surface. It was obvious now she’d suffered some tragic painful event in her life. Dalmar’s doing most likely. Tasha thought for a moment about how to respond. She knew the words she’d say would probably not change her mind or course of action, but she had to try.

Tasha spoke softly. “I know what horrific things Dalmar is capable of…Sometimes it seems that men like him just end up walking away but that’s no ex—”

“Excuse for me to take the law into my hands. Yeah, I figured that speech was coming. Guess what, I don’t have time for it.” Milena said strongly before turning around and walked across the room. Well, that went well but pretty much how I expected. Tasha thought as Milena shut the door behind her as she exited the room, leaving Tasha alone once again. 

[onceuponaloonatic]

Okay some of us are now dying to know. What does the morning after look like for SaHyo. I assume with the morning light comes new revelations, and I'm ready. 🦄

tw for mentions of rape

Jihyo woke up before Sana. Her head was pounding and a bit fuzzy, but she generally remembered what happened yesterday. They had gotten drunk, and then they slept together. Jihyo thought she would have more regrets, she had cheated on her husband last night. But honestly, she didn’t feel regret. She felt relieved.

Sana’s body looked like it was glowing with the way the sun shined on it. The sunlight trickled in from the slats in the blinds, illuminating Sana’s naked form. Jihyo wasn’t sure she had ever seen someone that beautiful while they were sleeping. Sana had a few red marks on her neck, and Jihyo would probably feel bad about them later. But for now, she liked them. She had always been territorial. Everything was quiet, and perfect. Jihyo wanted to freeze time and just exist in this moment with Sana. She didn’t want to leave this bed. She didn’t want reality to hit her. She wasn’t ready for it. 

“Jihyo?” Sana muttered as she woke up. “Are you awake?” “Hello.” Jihyo put one hand on Sana’s cheek. Sana was still opening her eyes, clearly still sleepy as Jihyo and her held eye contact. “Good morning sleepy head.” “You should have woken me up when you woke up.” Sana whined, causing Jihyo to giggle at her. SHe hadn’t even noticed how much time she had spent staring at Sana. It was an embarrassing amount, and Jihyo had never been like this before. So soft. So in love. It was scary. 

Sure she had loved Daniel. It took a long time to stop loving him. He was sweet, and their parting was not easy. Especially because he never knew the truth about Dahyun. Jihyo checked in on him sometimes. He had moved to Australia recently, and Jihyo was honestly happy for him. He looked happy there, and Jihyo suspected he may even have a girlfriend. He posted a lot of pictures with her, so she assumed they were probably dating. She didn’t mind like she thought she would have. She still thought he maybe deserved to know about Dahyun. And she would tell him. One day. Whenever she was able to get Minjoon out of her life. 

Her and Minjoon’s relationship had always been complicated. They had never loved each other, but they had been married against both their wills. Jihyo had tried to fight it, but she lost the fight to her family. Minjoon had never treated her well. He was a charming man to most people, but Jihyo saw the real side of him. The ugly side. The night Chaeyoung was conceived had not been something Jihyo wanted to remember. She had tried to fight, but he fought back. She had cried the next day, showering and washing her body repeatedly after he touched it. When he found out Jihyo was still with Daniel, he went mad. He took her phone, deleted her social media accounts, blocked any phone number he did not recognize, and then he forced himself on her. He threatened her, and she knew she was stuck. Everyone trusted him, no one trusted her. 

She had so much fear about Sana. Sure Minjoon was around less now than he was when she was with Daniel, but it still terrified her. He didn’t know Jihyo was bi, so that would likely throw him off their trail for a while. But she wasn’t sure how long they could keep it a secret from him. She had tried to stop herself from falling in love with Sana because of it. She didn’t want Sana to get hurt. But Jihyo had already crossed the line, without even realizing it. She was in love with Sana, and Sana loved her. They had kissed multiple times, and now they had slept together. There wasn’t any going back now.

“-Jihyo?” Sana interrupted Jihyo’s train of thought. “What’s wrong? Oh no do you regret this-”

“The only thing I regret-” Jihyo cut Sana off, leaning forward and kissing her. “Is not doing this sooner.” A blush spread across Sana’s cheeks. 

“W-What about Minjoon-”

“Don’t worry about him.” Jihyo could deal with him. He was her husband after all. Sana didn’t have to worry herself with that. “Why don’t you go shower? I’ll meet you in the dining room for breakfast.” “Where are you going?” Sana asked as she watched Jihyo get dressed. “I’m just going to make a call. It’s for work. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” Jihyo gave Sana a fake smile. She didn’t want her to know what she was really doing. Sana was so perfect, so pure. Jihyo wasn’t going to drag her into the shitshow that was her marriage. “Okay.” Sana nodded, leaning forward to give Jihyo another kiss. “See you in a bit.” “Yup. See you.” XX Jihyo stared at her phone for the better part of five minutes. She had worked up all this nerve to call Minjoon earlier but all her resolve was lost when she pulled up her husband’s contact on her phone. It was scary. But she had to do this. She couldn’t live with him anymore. If she wanted to be with Sana, she had to get rid of him. 

The phone rang twice before Minjoon picked up. Jihyo had the phone pressed to her ear as she twirled her pen with the other, a nervous habit of hers. “Hello?” He sounded tired. He was on a business trip. Jihyo had no clue where, anytime she tried to ask him and his employees would just say business trip and not answer anymore. 

“Minjoon…” Jihyo took a deep breath. She had rehearsed what she was going to say to him earlier, but it all left her when she heard his voice. 

“Mm… Minjoonie hang up.” Jihyo paused when she heard a woman’s voice. A woman? Why was Minjoor with a woman? Reality hit her like a truck. She wasn’t the only one who wasn’t faithful in this relationship. “Come back to bed.” “One second baby.” Minjoon giggled. “Who is this?” It was then that Jihyo realized she wasn’t using her cell phone. She was using her work phone. Minjoon didn’t have her work phone number saved in his called id. 

“I can’t believe you.” Was the first thing that came out of Jihyo’s mouth. He had been so mad when he found out she was with Daniel. He had hurt her, physically and mentally. And now she comes to find out he’s been cheating too. Suddenly everything makes sense. Why he was constantly away on business trips. Why he never told her where he was going. “Jihyo… Did you hear that?” Jihyo could hear the panic in his voice.

“Yes.” Jihyo nodded. “I can’t fucking believe you.” “You can’ believe me? You fucking cheated on me first!” He argued. 

“Yeah and you- you raped me in response!” Jihyo had never been able to put what happened that night into words. She had hated everything about that night. The only good thing to come out of it was Chaeyoung. “Your a fucking monster.” “I don’t want to hear that from you!” Minjoon argued back. “You dirty cheater!” Jihyo had felt guilty every time she met Daniel after she had married Minjoon. But she had been with Daniel before she had been with Minjoon, and Minjoon knew that. Something else occurred to Jihyo as she formulated her response. Minjoon had been going on these business trips longer than the twins had been alive. He had been doing them since before he even knew about Daniel. “You did it first…” Jihyo sat back in realization. 

“N-No I didn’t!” Minjoon argued. 

“You did… And I’m an idiot.” Jihyo crushed herself. “Minjoon this clearly isn’t working. Can we please just get divorced already dammit?”

“Do you know what our families will say-”

“Fuck them!” Jihyo interrupted. “Please… I’ll do all the work. Just sign the form. You can go be with whoever that girl is and I can be happy.” “Fuck you Park Jihyo.” She heard him growl. “Do whatever you fucking want.” He hung up the phone and Jihyo set the phone down. She should be happy, she got what she wanted. But the conversation had left her tense. 

“Jihyo?” Sana knocked on her office door, startling Jihyo. 

“Come in.” Jihyo put the phone away. 

“What’s wrong? I heard you yelling?” Sana asked as she came into the office. Jihyo patted her lap and Sana climbed into it. 

“Nothing’s wrong Sana.” Jihyo felt all of her anger and bad emotions melt away looking into Sana’s confused doe like brown eyes. “But-” Jihyo interrupted her with a kiss. “Nothing is ever wrong when I’m with you.” And Jihyo meant it.

XX Thedivorce was strangely anticlimactic. Jihyo had expected Minjoon to cause a huge fuss, but he had stayed quiet, signing all of the required legal forms and attending all the legal hearings. Jihyo came to find out why a few weeks later. His new girlfriend, who Jihyo suspected was the girl who’s voice she heard, was pregnant. He announced it to the media about a month after their divorce. They hadn’t made it public how far along she was, but Jihyo found out from her family she was already pregnant before Jihyo had even asked him for the divorce. Sana asks Jihyo if the divorce had anything to do with her, but Jihyo reassures her it had nothing to do with her. The only people who really suffer in the divorce are Dahyun and Chaeyoung. The two girls go through a big change. Their parents got divorced, their dad had a new girlfriend, and they were getting a new half sibling. It was a lot to take at once. But they come to adapt to the changes. Minjoon only takes care of them once a month, for a weekend. Jihyo can’t help but feel nervous anytime they go over to his house, but the court had ordered he spend at least some time with them. 

Dahyun had started asking more and more about her real dad after the divorce. Jihyo tells her a little bit about Daniel, and tells her that he loves her even if he can’t see her. It’s a little white lie, because Daniel doesn’t actually know about Dahyun. But Jihyo knew if he did, he would absolutely love the girl to death. Jihyo decided she would tell him soon, with Minjoon gone Jihyo realized it was finally time. Jihyo had made Dahyun promise to never tell Minjoon about her real father, afraid of how he would react. Dahyun promised, and Jihyo noticed she was actually able to keep the promise. Eventually, Jihyo stops worrying as the girls going over to their dads becomes less frequent. After the birth of their half sister, Minjoon had started seeing the twins even less because he was too busy. They both seemed okay with it, and Jihyo suspected it was because they rarely saw their dad before. Once a month turns into once every six months and once every six months becomes once a year. Jihyo really didn’t hate it, she knew he was their dad but she hated him.

Sana fit perfectly into their lives. The girls had already adored Sana, so finding out their mom and Sana were dating, they were elated. They even started calling her mama. Sana was so happy to be with them, nearly crying when they called her mama. Jihyo finds it adorable how much Sana loves them. 

“Dahyun stop squirming.” Jihyo sighed as she tried to keep Dahyun still. She was holding both of the twins hands, the two seven year olds dressed in nice clothing. “Chaeyoung you too.” “Chaeyoung do you see her?” Jihyo was ignored by the two, who were scouring the crowd for Sana. 

“No.” Chaeyoung nodded, looking all around. “Wait I see her!” Dahyun and Chaeyoung both let go of Jihyo’s hands when they saw Sana. She was still in her graduation robes, walking around looking for Jihyo and the twins like they were looking for her. “Mama!” The twins giggled as they ran to Sana. 

“Dahyun! Chaeyoung!” Sana smiled and opened her arms for them, hugging them both tightly. “Mama you looked so pretty on stage!” Chaeyoung commented as she hugged Sana tightly. “Yeah yeah! You looked so cool! You're a teacher now mama!” Dahyun giggled.

“Thank you girls.” Jihyo locked eye contact with Sana, seeing how her girlfriend was on the verge of tears. Jihyo couldn’t help but get emotional at Sana’s emotional state. They had come so far. They had started as strangers. Sana was her kids nanny, she wasn’t supposed to mean anything to Jihyo. But then they fell in love. And now, here they were. The day Sana was finally graduating and becoming a teacher, like she had wanted to since Jihyo had first met her. Once Dahyun and Chaeyoung had gotten their fix of hugs they stood off to the side and examined Sana’s degree. Jihyo came up to her while the twins were distracted.

“I’m so proud of you.” Jihyo pulled Sana into a kiss. 

“Thank you.” Jihyo loved the teary smile and giggle Sana gave her. “I love you.” Jihyo pulled Sana into another kiss. 

“I love you too.”

[today-in-abeltownship]

An actual thorough report on the Musical

(Spoiler warning - the ZR:TM follows the events of S1 and S2 of ZR, and so I will be talking about those here)

Disclaimer: I know nothing about music, or musicals, and am in no way qualified to have a valid opinion

(also this is going to be v long so rip)

First of all, Act One is just a whole beautiful emotional rollercoaster. Just amazingly done.

1.1 - Overture: The feels. The beginning! JUST RUN! the piece of accompanying music is absolutely beautiful, big fat stunning and I will be listening to this next time I replay the first mission. The orchestral part honestly made my heart flutter. Such a beautiful opening song. 

1.2 - Welcome to Abel: The hope. The cacophony (thx Caity for using this word yesterday I’ve now used it a dozen times and it’s your fault) of characters is just so so in character! The multiple singing really encapsulating the overwhelming time of Runner Five. 

1.3 - Run For You Life: Sara. I love this character. Yet somehow, this song makes me love her more. The lyrics really really really encapsulate her. The voice of Sara is so on point i can’t even put into words. I know this one is going to be stuck in my head and I’m living for it. I know nothing about music or musicals so i don’t know the technical word for this but the whole atmosphere(???) ambiance (???) of this song is so so Sara. 

1.4 - Raise The Gates: A Bop. This one was so upbeat i honestly forgot how the mission actually ended for a minute there, and then was surprised. The back and fourth between Sam and Janine was so funny and so perfect. DON’T SHOUT Then the twist had my heart like -OH no!!! The instruments really snapped like damn, atmosphere change. I felt that urgency.

1.5 - A Voice In The Dark: More feels. Two lines in and I’ve got tears in my eyes. SO SOFT. I cannot put into words how this one affects my heart but it’s something along the lines of mushy and pain and love and all that good stuff. Hearing the line “for just one friend, would you run?” honestly made me want to start going for a jog. Really tugging at my heart strings here. Just when you think the heartbreak is over Sam gets more and more emotional until it ends with both him (and me) being heartbroken. 10/10 would recommend.

1.6 - Cain and Abel: Villain. The vibes are so unreal. This song made me hate Van Ark more and i mean that as the most sincere compliment to the writers and singers. Top tier villain vibes. Also it’s so Van Ark to blatantly not answer Paula’s question and just end up rambling dramatically. 

1.7 - Archie To The Rescue: My Gal. The pep! MY GAL! The accent! Blue! Wait, are we a cult?! The atmosphere, ambiance, general vibe is so accurate! The voice is so so good and I really hear the spirit of Archie coming through (not a pun but also a pun)

1.8 - Morning Run: King of the Apocalypse. Oh goodness the beginning had me cackling. SIMON! How is a song about the apocalypse so cheery? The answer is beautiful craftmanship and a wonderful voice. And a ukulele. With a smidge of Abba. I’m currently looking to make this song my alarm. (also the foreshadowing had me 👀)

1.9 - Reunion: Tears. Just in case you had any liquid left in your body from the first 8 songs of laughter and crying, this song is guaranteed to make you dehydrated. These gals (the characters and the singers) are magical. The feels. The backstory. SO SO SOFT. when they both start singing at the same time I started shrieking bc it was so so emotional. And then when they get to the last bit and just ????? I just???? *combusts into tears*

1.10 - You Haven’t Met My Friends: Ouch. My GAL *crying*. Her birthday *crying*. Her gusto *crying*. I! CAN! HEAR! THE! FEELING! Evening knowing what happens to Archie, this one caught by offguard and I love it. The reverse use of the piano and the lower notes (idk if that’s the right musical term) compared to 1.7 just soo soo good. Genuinely think my heart stopped at the last bit. 

1.11 - Oh, Look At That: Ahhhhhh. One of the great things about this musical series is not knowing which plot points are going to be covered in which stage. The title of this one had me clueless, and even the art was a bit mystifying. So when the tone changed????? AHHHH. The piano had me amped up in this one. Oh, look at that - OH SNAPP!!!!!!! BETRAYAL! I wasn’t expecting it and yet I was! AHHH

1.12 - There’s Still Time: Drama. Van Ark’s theme is just so supervillainy. Big Love That. Love Sara interrupting him about to solo again. And then the twist! The Music! The Beat! The do doo doo do do! All Fast! All Drama! ITS ALL GO! Then the drama in the comms shack, the back and fourth again, Janine’s desperate denial... AAAHHH

1.13 - I’ll Be Waiting: Sobbing. The artwork for this one had me crying. The notes. The Slow pacing. Hearing the singer’s voice break made me break. The turmoil. The whole Sara attitude in trying to be strong and also... THAT. Sara and Paula being SO SOFT. I honestly had to take a pause after this one ended because THE EMOTION

1.14 - Close Your Eyes: AcTiOn. The fallen king of the apocalypse. This song really, really, really, does such a good look into Simon’s character and motivations! I don’t know what you call the bit when they all start singing and Simon sings in response but SO GOOD! SO EMOTIONALL! and then the softening and regret.... and then the return of Van Ark! THE COUNTDOWN! The music in this one was so paced and changing and atmospheric and good and just so good and so very really good. FIRE! (the S3 foreshadowing omgosh) 

1.15 - To the Fallen, And To Freedom: Grief. THE GRIEF. Janine’s solo had me crying (not that I had stopped crying throughout). AND THEN WHEN THE ENSEMBLE HIT????? ARGHHH!!! Listen that bit definitely changed my BPM and idk how. We’re Not Alone <3 AND THEN MOONY COMES IN. THE TONE SHIFT. this part was haunting and ethereal and so so so fitting. AND THEN THE PANIC. ARGGHHH

This whole act was just a wild ride of heartbreak and healing and heartbreak and action. I am literally in awe of how much talent has gone into this. The Music. The Lyrics. The Voices. I have been put into a blender, with all these songs thrown in, blitzed up and now i am just a pile of emotional crumbs. To everyone that put work in to this I cannot put into words how amazing this musical you’ve created is. tbh i can’t believe i still have words to describe it at all because i think i’ve been emotionally beaten up. 

TL;DR - AHHHHH GO AND LISTEN TO THE MUSICAL

[aureumjeon]

while you’re at it (m) || pjm

pairing; poolboy!jimin x noona!reader.

genre; smut, fluff, tiny angst.

summary; After finalizing your divorce papers, there was still one thing that had to be taken care of. That stupid swimming pool. Over there course of a few days, you ended up harboring feelings for one of your pool boys. Will things go as planned? Or will everything be flushed down the drain? 

warnings; brief mentions of divorce, infidelity and toxic relationship, sub!jimin, dom!reader, barely there bondage, exhibitionism, female masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex (both receiving), body worship, tit fucking, noona kink, praise kink(its jimin ofc), mild degradation, impreg kink, its basically jimin being a whiny soft baby for noona, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, creampies, cum eating

word count;  11K+ (this was supposed to be around 7-8K only, iduno what happened really)

a/n; ahhhhhh! three minutes late but who careeees. im done, i want to sleep. the smut feels so rushed butill fix it... eventually... lmao, unedited as hell, dont mind the errors... will fix someday.  bye

@m0chilattae @ruinedbyjin <33 

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Breaking away and cutting ties from your previous and definitely toxic marriage was the best decision you've made bar none. You could no longer stomach the abuse that your now ex-husband had put you through. It was a complete and utter living hell being bound to a man who wasn't who you initially thought he was. Having him crossed out of your life (legally, too) made it a million times easier. It has been exactly seven weeks since you chucked out all of his belongings through the front door. No regrets. And you still didn't want to take notice of the huge elephant in the room — or in the backyard per se. There it sat in the middle of the unkempt grassy area surrounded by leaves and trash, in all of its filthy, disgusting, bacteria and algae infested glory. Your dreaded swimming pool.

You had put-off cleaning it the first week after your separation, saying you're too busy doing this or too preoccupied taking care of that. When in all honesty, you just didn't want to deal with it. You had no goddamn idea how to maintain it. Heck, you didn't even know how to swim. Wonwoo was the main reason why the two of you bought a house that came with it after your wedding. He said he wanted to keep his hobby of swimming alive, understandable since that's where it all began. The two of you met at a university swim meet. You were the designated journalist for that event, assigned to interview all the winners after the competition for the school's paper. Wonwoo bagged the gold medal for the two hundred-meter freestyle, and you interviewed interviewed him and that's where it took off. Everything was running smoothly. One by one every item on your life's checklist got checked-off. After five years of dating, he proposed. A year later you got married and purchased a house together and planned on having children. You even put-off your job as a columnist writer for a high-end magazine company to play out the role of a perfect wife who'd soon take care of her children. You had the ideal life with the ideal husband in an ideal house that any married woman could wish for. You had everything, and in your own little world it was perfect. Until two years into your marriage, everything went into turmoil. Wonwoo suddenly grew cold and insensitive. He didn't answer your calls and text messages whenever he was away. He didn't make love to you the way he used to during your honeymoon phase. And sometimes he would just downright refuse, saying he's too tired and that he wants to sleep instead. You endured and tolerated his behavior for another year, giving him a chance to change his ways. But we all know what happens to second chances, they're wasted. One day, Jihyo sent you a picture of Wonwoo sucking faces with a female swim trainer at the city's public pool. You could not believe it at first, you refused to. Until she sent another image, this one clear as day. It was Wonwoo, positively Wonwoo. You called your older brother Yoongi and told him everything that had happened starting from the day your relationship spiraled into disaster. Like any brother would be; he was furious. He didn't kill the guy though, only gave him a black eye and a broken nose before you threw his belongings out on the pavement. To cut the story short, you found love beside a swimming pool and ultimately gotten your heart broken because of it. When people fall out of love, heart breaks are inevitable. All the more reason as to why you just shoved the idea of cleaning the pool under the rug like small particles of dust and dirt. You just wanted to forget about it, pretend like it didn't exist. If you could only haul that thing out of the ground and throw it out like you did to him, it'd be more painless for you. You took your phone out of your handbag and texted Namjoon. You asked if he still had the number to that all around cleaning service, to which he did, thank god. After saving the number, you called it immediately. Wanting no time to be wasted. "Hello, Good morning! This is Mr. Park of Mr. Park's Cleaning Service, how can we help you?" The bubbly old man chanted his spiel. "Ah, yes, um. This is Y/n Y/l/n, I was wondering if I can avail your services?" "Of course, ma'am!" He chimed, the sound of rustling papers can be heard in the background "What will we have the pleasure of cleaning for you, Ms. Y/l/n?" His tone never changed, still enthusiastic. "Well I have this pool..." You replied quite hesitantly, "And It's been sitting here uncleaned for almost two months." You let out a breathy laugh, fairly embarrassed at your confession. "No problem, Ms. Y/l/n! We've handled worse cases. Two months is nothing! Is it just the pool or would you like us to give your whole yard a fixer-upper?" You sighed in relief. "Y-yes, that would be great! My backyard could use the help, too." "Alrighty then! You don't need to worry about anything! Can I get your contact number and full address Ms. Y/l/n?" Mr. Park sounded like a charming old man, he never judged or asked unnecessary questions, only the ones that needed to be answered. "My number's xxx-xxx-xx and my full address is xxx street, corner xxx at xxx village. When can I expect you to visit, Mr. Park?" "I'll get the boys ready and will be there in about an hour or two to check on the conditions and come up with the most effective strategy. The duration of the process usually takes about three days to a week depending on the situation. It's always better to asses the area first. We'll do the best we can do, Ms. Y/l/n!" You can hear the smile in his voice, never have you encountered someone who's this passionate about his job as much as Mr. Park. "Great! That sounds excellent! Thank you so much Mr. Park! I'll see you later!" "Thank you, too, Ms. Y/l/n! Good bye!" The call ended and you checked the clock. It was a quarter to nine, still a lot of time left before they arrive. You decided to tidy up the place, picking up dirty laundry, washing the dishes, and anything that demanded to be put in its proper place. You accomplished everything in under an hour and decided to lounge around on your couch, still in your black silk nightwear dress that rested a good five inches above your knee. To be fair, you did wake up too early for your liking, and it made you thrice as sluggish than usual. 'Only ten minutes' you reminded yourself because you still needed to shower. Your eyelids felt heavy and the softness of the pillow you were resting your head on didn't help either. 'five more minutes, then it's time to shower, I swear.' Things didn't always go according to plan, of course. You fell asleep.

++

Your little nap was interrupted by the sound of your doorbell ringing multiple times, "Ms. Y/l/n?! Is anybody home? This is Mr.Park's Cleaning Service." The man on the other side of the door yelled. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. You scramble about you couch only to fall on the floor with a loud thud, "W-wait! Just a minute!" You squealed, heading out to the nearest bathroom to grab your bathrobe and wrap it around your frame. You chugged down and gargled a cup full of mouthwash before spitting it out. "Shit..." You hissed, taming out the fly-aways of your hair and tying it up in a loose bun. Your bangs rested messily on your forehead but you didn't have the pleasure of curling it. So you opted for just sweeping it to the side, making yourself more presentable. "I'm coming!" You yelped, treading to your front door and opening it. The three boys who stood at your doorstep gave you a courteous ninety degree bow. They were wearing those baggy grey work jumpsuits but the sleeveless kind. The boys looked fairly young, with glowing skin and youthful dispositions. They moved back to their upright position and the one in the center greeted, "Good day Ms.---" his eyes widened like saucers, he looked like he had encountered a ghost, and suddenly you were extremely conscious about your disheveled appearance, tucking in stray hairs that dangled around the frame of your face behind your ears. "Ms--" he knew what he wanted to say, it was waiting for its turn to spill out from his suddenly parched mouth. But he couldn't because he was too awe struck at the image of this lovely woman standing before him. They'd done this job a couple hundred times and it was all professional, but this was the first time his heart was completely enamored by a female client. His tongue was undoubtedly caught at the back of his throat and an elbow to his rib by his friend snapped him out of it and transferred him back to reality. "Y/l/n.." He continued, shades of pink trickling his face. "My name is Park Jimin..." "You're Mr. Park?" You giggled, the way your cheeks rounded when you smile matched with your cute dimple almost sent him into the ER due to a cardiac arrest, "You sounded older on the phone." "Uh.. That was my father. I'm just Jimin." He smiled, flustered like a little boy confessing his love for his crush. You beamed at him once more after discovering his name, eyes twinkling more that ever and he caught that. He freaking caught the way your eyes glimmered at him. "If you're just Jimin, then I'm just Y/n." What the hell was that?! You internally screamed at your choice of words, pulling out the non-existent life plug in your head because you wanted to shrivel up like a dehydrated grape desiring to be a raisin and just die. "O-okay, Ms. Y/n.." the way your name rolled so sweetly out of his lips made you shudder, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long, long time spark a flame in the deepest pit of your stomach. You shouldn't be experiencing this urgent sense of infatuation towards a person you only just met, not to mention to someone this young. You reckoned that he was likely five or six years your junior, probably even more. It was a weird sensation. You had no idea where it came from but you were kinda skeptical about the concept of it and where it might lead. Did you hate it? I mean, no, not at all. Were you confused? Most definitely. "This is Jungkook," he gestured to the lad on his left. Jet-black hair, doe eyes, piercings and tattoos, okaaay he's attractive "and this is Taehyung." Your gaze moved to the left, honey brown hair, sultry stare, sharp nose and a chiseled jaw, woah he's attractive too. No wonder Mr. Park's acquiring all the deals in town! His cleaning team is total eye candy. "My dad-- I mean Mr. Park's rheumatoid started acting up a little while ago, that's why he wasn't able to come with us. I hope that's alright with you, Ms. Y/n." There it is again, he said your name again but his voice a little softer this time. He was hoping his father's absence wouldn’t upset you too much. And didn't leave a bad first impression on you. Your name slipping past his lips sent another shock wave throughout your body, faintly stirring up your insides. It took you a good second to reply because you were too busy staring at the way his tongue prodded out of mouth to wet his pink and plump lips. Shit “I-it’s fine..” You gulped, drifting your gaze to your backyard assuming he didn’t see what you just did. “I hope your father feels well soon.” You stepped back a few feet letting the boys with their big tool kits in hand enter. “May we look at the pool, Ms. Y/l/n?” The black haired boy spoke, opening his box of tools and pulling out a smaller black container. “Taehyung and I will do the water testing and everything else while Jimin-hyung here will walk you through the whole process.” “The sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish!” Taehyung beamed, boxy smile and all. They all did what they said they’d do. Jungkook and Taehyung were handling all sorts of gadgets and gizmo to test the pH balance, chlorine levels and whatever they need to test. Jimin explained everything in meticulous detail, from the tools that they were using to how they’d clean it. You tried listening intently. You really did! But the addictive saccharine tone of his voice had gotten you too worked up. “And that’s about it,” Jimin happily concluded. “We can start cleaning tomorrow if it’s okay with you,” “Y/n?” He asked reluctantly, watching you stare vacuously at him. “Ah-- Yes. You guys can start tomorrow.” You smiled, flustered and red on the face. He was worried for a moment, he thought you found everything he said was boring. Because all honestly, he knew it was. Jimin dropped out of college to support his father with their family business, being the sole son and successor. It was a gamble, most of his friends would say. "Why'd you give up having an education?" or "What if it goes bankrupt?". Those words were frequently thrown around, but he stuck to his gut. Jimin never wanted anything more than maintaining his father's legacy alive. The one that his father and late-mother created and grew from the ground up. "Great! Kook, Tae, how's everything going?" He hollered to his friends who were still tinkering with their devices at the edge of the pool. "Will be done soon! Give us a minute," Taehyung replied, signaling a thumbs-up to his hyung. "Ahhh! That reminds me," You teetered blithely straight to your equally neglected shed that Wonwoo kept all his tools in. "If you need any tools, feel free to--" You tried to pry the door handle open but it wouldn't budge. "Let me get that for you, Ms. Y/n." Jimin insisted, worrying you might hurt yourself. "I'm okay," You assured the boy, solidifying your grip on the handle, and giving one last firm pull that just might do the trick. Jimin was right. Because the moment you exerted more effort into opening the door, the slim strip of metal that was affixed on the wooden surface snapped off and sent you stumbling back a few steps. You shielded your eyes with your hand and just when you thought your sorry ass was about to hit the grass, you felt something or someone, cradle your fall. A small groan from behind startled you, "W-what?" You removed your hands from your face and saw Jimin lying beneath you, hold on to you by your waist."Oh shit!" You shrieked, promptly scooting away from his lap to check if he's hurt somewhere. "J-jimin! Are you okay?!" concern laced your voice. You scanned every inch of his body for any cuts or bruises. While your face unintentionally came too close to his, he felt your warm minty breath dancing on the tip of his cupid's bow, tickling his lips that were mere centimeters away from yours. And the way his left cheek was conveniently purchased in your hand made him feel the heat blossom under his skin, and presumably creep up to his ears too. Wide-eyed and totally red in the face, Jimin hurriedly stood up from where he was planted, not forgetting to help you as well stand up as well. “I’m fine, Ms. Y/n. You don’t have to worry about--” Before the boy could barely finish his sentence, you were already pulling him by the wrist and ushering him back inside the house. He was trying so hard to resist the blush that had been wanting to be set free. “Jungkook, Taehyung!” You waved, calling out their attention. “You can come inside if you’re finished. I’ll tend to Jimin and see if he has any injuries.” “Yes ma’am!” The two boys chuckled, giving Jimin a playful smirk. “Sit down. I’ll go get my first aid kit.” You spoke before scooting towards the direction of your bathroom. The moment you’ve found yourself looking in the mirror in what seems to be the safest place you could’ve been at this moment, you allow all the accumulated steam out. “F-fuck.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. Finally being able to inhale and exhale enough air with your lungs. Every single moment with Jimin feels like there’s something constricting your chest, blocking all possible airways and cutting off the oxygen in your body. “Get it together, Y/n” You scold yourself, looking at the reflection in the bathroom mirror “You are an adult. An adult who will not let a young man fracture the little sanity you have left.” 

On your tiptoes, you reached for the small plastic box on the shelf of your bathroom, taking one last determined look in the mirror and declaring, “You got this.”  With that, you step out of the enclosed space with your recovered confidence, not looking back. And there he is again, puppy dog eyes lighting up when he saw your figure reappear in his line of vision. “Ms. Y/n.” He smiled, and there you knew how truly fucked up you were. “God, give please give me the strength.”  You chanted in your head, “I got the first aid kit. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Was all that you could say. 

++

It has been exactly five days, eight hours and forty-five minutes since Jimin started working on your backyard. Why do you know that? Well, that boy with those galaxies induced eyes, impossible plump lips and unbelievable muscular body had been lurking and finding his way through the deep recesses of your mind, desperately searching for that imaginary finish line.

Every cell in your body was hyper-aware of your surroundings whenever he was near. You’d get chills when you feel his hot breath fanning against the skin of your nape when he’s behind you asking for some kind of permission. A jolt would run down your spine when he says your name like it’s the only name he’d known besides his. And the way an innocent stare from him would ignite a flame in your core, burning like coal inside a furnace during those cold winter nights. You know of his presence; you know how he makes you feel even when you don’t want it and that scares you.

And now you’re here with your overly eager friend who's  ready to lay down all her life savings and then some, just to see you finally get laid after that hideous tragedy.

“Gosh, what do I do?” You groaned, massaging your temples. The headache that you experienced the first time you encountered the boy only tripled in magnitude. It was like the soft tissues of your brain decided that it would be best to act like tectonic plates and tear each other apart. No matter how many pain killers you’ve ingested or how early you slept at night, it always comes back the next day, with a vengeance.

“Give in,” she shrugged, taking a sip from her warm cup of tea. “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

“The only thing I’m losing right now is my sanity.” You grovelled, wanting to pull out all of your hair from its follicles. “I–” You sighed, voice cracking and tear attempting to fall.“I honestly don’t know what to do.”

She offered you a sympathetic look, consoling you with a hand gently stroking your back. “I know, hun. Wonwoo was a douche bag and your divorce was the absolute worst. But… Look at the bright side,” She nudged you on the shoulder and points a finger westward.

“Now that he’s out of the picture, you’re a free woman now, y/n.” Your friend stated as-a-matter-of-fact, wriggling her perfectly done brows at you. She was right, though. There was nothing holding you back except yourself. The two of you looked beyond the glass sliding doors of your patio and watched the group of young men pull every bone and flex every inch of muscles in their bodies trying to make your backyard look like the way it was before.

“I don’t see anything wrong with flirting with your pool boy now that the ring on you finger is gone,” a small tug of her lips went unseen by you as your gaze was still attached to the blond haired boy whose dusting of sweat seemed to reflect and shimmer under the blazing sunlight like those vampire characters from that teen movie. God, how can someone look that ethereal while raking up the pile leaves in your backyard?

“While you’re at it, seeing that you’re too invested in watching him, play with piles of dead leaves,” your head snapped toward her direction as your cheeks turned pink from embarrassment, “might as well fuck him too.” she grins from ear to ear. 

++

Day eight came faster than you had imagined. The boiling of your insides has simmered down immensely since you've accepted all your feelings like the grown adult that you are. You didn't confess, though, there will be a time for that. Also, you can say you've gotten used to Jimin's presence in the short time you've spent with him. He was kind, sweet, caring and considerate to you 24/7 and you've considered every bit of it endearing. You friend was right. "Give in," she says, so you did and you hope everything will eventually fall into place at the right time. Like usual, jimin and his bunch were outside. They were eighty percent done with the pool and all that's left was the landscaping. One by one, bags of dirt, rocks, sand and all the likes were carried by unfamiliar faces to the back yard through your house. Trails of sand were left on the floor akin to a snail's. "We're really sorry for the mess, miss y/n. Don't worry, we'll clean it up." A new face stood beside Jimin. This one looked more mature than the three boys you're already acquainted with. This was your first time seeing him. Raven hair, brown eyes, a attractive face and shoulders broader than the horizon. Wow. Mr. Park's boys just keep getting hotter and hotter. But there's something oddly familiar about him. Maybe you've met him before? Casually crossed paths as strangers? You can't quite wrap a finger around it. "Y/n, this is Jin-hyung." The fair-haired boy stated. "He's Jungkook's older brother." You gasp, finally it connects "R-really?! No wonder you looked familiar!" You heard the boisterous laugh of the younger brother draw closer and then draped an arm around his brother's shoulder. You habitually thought Jungkook was the tallest in the bunch but now that you've seen his older brother and the way he stands a good two or three inches taller says otherwise. "Sooo, who's more good looking, Noona?" Jungkook asked cheerfully, arching his brows as if coaxing you to choose him. "Hmmm..." You hummed dramatically, crossing your arms with one hand cupping your chin. "I really can't say, Jungkook. Your hyung's pretty handsome." You teased. "Nooooona~!" The youngest whined, flailing his arms around like a child. If you hadn't known their ages, you'd assume that Jungkook's an eighteen year old boy with a baby's face attached to an adult man's body. +Flashback+ You learned that over the course of yesterday's dinner. That day marked the seventh day since the boys worked on you backyard. You decided to treat them to a special samgyupsal dinner since they had been working so hard all day and all afternoon. It was a quarter to five, and the boys were about to call it a day when you call them over enthusiastically. Gesturing them to come inside "Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook!" Their mouths hung wide open when their eyes met with the dining table. A dazzling array of meats, soups, vegetables and side dishes were gloriously scattered on the surface. "Wow, Ms. Y/n!" Taehyung beamed, his boxy smile seemed like it was engraved on his face. "What's the occasion?” "Well, since you boys have been working so hard I decided to arrange a little party for you guys. It's the least I can do." You smile. Taehyung and Jungkook looked like they were about to combust. The fragrance of the food delighted their every senses. You hear a faint growl in the background. "Sorry. That was me." Jungkook confessed, his stomach was now hungrier than before. You all laugh. "What are you waiting for? Dig in!" It was like a gun was shot and the race to eat the most food began. You watched them eat heartily, wishing that you had done this sooner to express your gratitude for all the effort the exert. "Aren't you gonna eat, y/n?" You were startled by Jimin voice. You turn to him and receive the look of concern on his face. "I've had my fair share while cooking, if I eat more I feel like I'll throw up." You softly giggled, a shade of pink dusting your cheeks. "And this is all for you." For every little thing he does whether it was deliberately or not, Jimin feels like he's simply digging his own grave. The sound of metal rutting against soil, just a few more digs and he's sure he'll be six feet under. "Ms. Y/n, Ms. Y/n!" Jungkook called, outstretching his hand like a student asking for his teacher's attention. "Yes, Jungkook? Oh, and you can call me y/n, by the way. No need for 'miss'." Jungkook scratched the back of his neck before answering, "Uhm, I dont think I'm in the position to call you that, ms. Y/n " "What about noona?" Taehyung who sits across Jungkook suggested. "Ms. Y/n really been nice to us, like a big sister. Always making sure we're okay." Sister. You practically forgot about your age gap with these kids. With the five-year difference for Jimin and Taehyung, seven for Jungkook, you really felt like an older sister. It wasn't bad, it was lovely actually. Knowing they see you more than just an ordinary client pinched at your heart. And you perceive them as little brother's you never had. One of them, you wished went beyond that. "Yeah!" The black haired boy exclaimed,"Can we call you noona, ms. y/n???" Jungkook looked like a dog, with his eyes all round and tail raised and wagging about. It must feel so great to be young. "Of-- Of course! You can call me noona!" The two boys cheered in unison. The only one quiet was jimin who sat parallel to you. 

"Are you okay jimin?" You asked meekly. "I'm fine." He didn't sound like he was fine. "Is there something wrong?" "Ahh, I--" he was stuttering, "Is it okay if I call you y/n instead?" Your eyes widened, you haven't even drank anything alcohol but your face already feels hotter. "S-sure, Jimin." You tried to change the topic by standing up walking over to the refrigerator. "Since all of you are of legal age." You gradually push open metal door and pull out bottles of soju. "You're the best, noona!" The youngest howled, eager to get his hands on the alcoholic drink. "Just promise me you guys won't drink too much. You still have work tomorrow" Like twins, Jungkook and Taehyung held their hands over their heart and recited, "We promise, noona!" With the magic liquid, conversation started flowing more naturally. You promised not to drink but they insisted, nothing worse than your friends peer-pressuring you. "So, noona, where do you work?" Taehyung questioned. He probably noticed you were always at home. "I'm a writer for Seoul Life Magazine, but I do all my work here at home. I rarely have to go to the office." "Really???!!!" His eyes blew up, Taehyung told you he was a fashion design graduate. You expected this reaction from him so you felt pride in telling him where you work. "Wow, noona!" Jungkook said, "My dad said only those who were absolutely good got to work there." "Stop flattering me," You shyly dismiss his praise. "I was an intern there during my concluding year of college. I worked for about three or four years before I got married." Taehyung did a spit take, spraying water all over poor Jungkook who almost choked on a lettuce leaf. Jimin just sat there, watching you laugh at the two comical boys. He didn't know how to react, his hands suddenly went clammy and he couldn't stop shaking his leg under the table. "M-married?" Jungkook said, still not believing what he's hearing "w-where the h-husband?" He felt out of breath due to that damn piece of leaf. "Are you really married, noona?" Taehyung poked, looking at your ringless finger. "I was," Your smile grew weaker, talking about something it always felt weighty. But they deserved to know, they're helping you heal by dealing with something you'd rather not face. "We got divorced." The room went silent. The sound of the crickets outside and leaves swaying with the wind that were previous white noise behind your chattering and laughter seemed like the were obscenely amplified by huge bass speakers. "Can I ask why, noo--" "Jungkook!" Jimin scolded his junior, and this was the first time you've heard/seen him raise his voice to anyone. "Apologize." He stated sternly, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook. "I'm sorry, noona." His head hung low, hair covering his eyes. "J-jimin, I'm sure Jungkook didn't meant to." You reached out to to hold his hand that was resting on the table. "I'm not mad or upset." You looked over Jungkook's direction and continued, "It's okay, I promise." Jimin squeezed your hand tighter, comforting you. "You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable, y/n." "Y-yeah, noona." Taehyung added, "You don't have to. It's none of our business." Jungkook sat still, eyes glassy and mouth pouty. He absolutely looked like a puppy that had been punished for chewing up its human's shoe. "It's alright," You giggle, extremely touched. "It's been months, I can talk about it." "We met during sophomore year. I was a journalist for the university paper and he was on the swim team." The three boys listened intently, like toddlers during story time. "After five years of dating, he proposed. We got married a year later and moved in here. That," you pointed to the pool outside "belongs to him." "It was his idea to get a house with one, I agreed of course. Only two years after getting married, I found out he was cheating on me." Jimin's features softened at your words. He knows it wasn't easy for anyone to talk about their past heartbreak and traumas. He made sure you weren't alone, he took his free hand and placed it over your hand that he was already holding with the other. He held it tight. "It broke my heart, I really thought he was the one, you know? Almost eight years together thrown in the garbage disposal and shredded to pieces." "He doesn't deserve you, noona." Jungkook finally spoke. "He was an asshole and he doesnt deserve you." "Yeah!" Taehyung agreed, "I kinda don't want to finish the work now." Out of nowhere, you burst out laughing. An invisible weight, sort of a thick blanket was lifted and the atmosphere brightened. "No, no, no!" You can't stop your laughter at this point, what Taehyung said tickled a funny bone. "I still plan on living here, Taehyung! Even if I dislike the pool, it's still part of this home. And the make over was sort of a therapy, you know. Out with the old, in with the new, right?" You ended it with a smile, lips curved beautifully. It was a smile Jimin has seen never seen before. It was light and airy, bright and transparent. There was no pain or distress, just carefreeness. He wished you would smile like this more often, and he also wished he'd someday be the reason for it.

++

"Just kidding, Jungkook! You're the most handsome." You assured the boy, patting his back. "Sorry, Jin. Your brother's grown on me." "Kook one, Jin zero." The youngest boast over to his brother. "Alright, alright!" Jin interrupted, "Unlike you, some of us need to work. How 'bout you and Taehyung get the transport van back to the office and let Jimin, Hoseok, Yugyeom and I get things done, yeah?" Jungkook clicked his tongue, "Whatever." Their sibling banter has got you missing your brother, mentally reminding yourself to call him later. "Hey, Yugs." You hear Jungkook faintly speak. Two more new faces stood beside Jin. "This is Hoseok and Yugyeom. We'll be responsible for landscaping." Another attractive guy with a million-dollar smile on his face and a tall man with the physique of a runway model. Curse, Mr. Park!! Where does he get all these boys?! "Thank you for having us!" The pair recited. "Oh, no! Thank you for helping out with the renovation." "Ms. Y/n, The boys and I will be outside. We'll be mapping out a plan for the design," Jin announced. "Oh, sure." You answer back, "Take all the time that you need." "Great! We'll report to you once we've finished the draft design. So you can the necessary make changes and adjustments." He beamed, walking towards the back yard. Jimin stood silently beside you, "You do landscaping?" You randomly asked, seeing that Jimin was the only one left from their bunch. Jungkook and Taehyung had long gone. "No," he chuckled, "I just need to watch over these guys. Make sure everything goes well." "That's nice, you're very involved with the work you do." His cheeks blossomed pink, he didn't expect a compliment since he was just doing his job. "I try." He shyly replied, bowing then heading for the glass door. "If you need me, I'll be outside." You waved him goodbye and went about your own business. There were still some articles in your workload that needed to be finished and those emails weren't gonna answer themselves. ++ By the time you were done, it was half past two in the afternoon. You noticed as the days progressed, so did the temperature. You check your phone, only to see that today is the hottest reading yet. Since everything has been taken care of, you decided to take a shower. Appreciating the cold refreshing water on you warm skin. After that, you put on your favorite robe and wrapped it around your damp body. As you were about to step out of the bathroom, you noticed Jimin leaning against one of the pillars of your patio, shirtless. Have your eyes been deceived? They say that seeing believes, but you didn't expect Jimin to be this fit. You offered yourself some slack, since the only part of Jimin body's you've oh so graciously seen are his muscular arms. It wasn't as big as those of a body builder, but the amount of muscle in them has already got you mouth watering. But being blessed with the site of his bare skin and taut abdominal muscles has got you feeling wetter than being in the shower. You couldn't keep your gaze off of him. It was an image that you want to engrave at the back of your head. Your eyes roamed his entire body. Face, neck, shoulders, chest and abs. You wanted to memorize every detail. Every mole, every freckle, every scar that adorned his ivory skin. Just as you were taking your time scanning his entire figure, you were startled when you saw him looking at you staring at him. Your heart began to race inside your chest and you almost forgot you were standing in the middle of your house with only a robe covering your very naked body. You scanned around the area of the yard and Jin and the others we're not in plain sight. You assumed they were working on the farthest side of the lot, where your small garden used to be before you abandoned it all together with the pool. You lock eyes with Jimin again, but this time there was something odd at the way he ogles at you. His gaze was lustful and burning with flames devouring your entirety. His were pupils blown out at the display of your skin. He looked pained, his teeth biting harshly at his bottom lip as if he wanted to draw blood. At that point it dawned on you. You know why he seemed so agitated, squirming in his seat. He wanted to see more, see more of you. A wave of unknown confidence washed over you. You didn't know where the hell it came from. Maybe it was from his deadly stare, maybe it was just you. Either way, you were so totally taking advantage of it. Without breaking eye contact, you found purchase at the same seat from which you watched the boys worked while having a chat with your friend. Sensually lifting the hem of your robe up your thighs and spreading your legs open for Jimin to see. "F-fuck," He groaned, hands balling into fists. He glimpsed over to the other men who were still occupied with what they were accomplishing. His attention was back on you, giving you a small nod. The fervor that coursed through your body was incomparable to anything you've experienced before. The Adrenaline was starting to kick in, and you felt hot-blooded. You temperature went up ten degrees higher and you felt delirious. You knew there was a possibility that you were gonna get caught, but screw it. You've never felt like this in your whole twenty-nine year of life. You're gonna enjoy it, basked in it. Jimin's eyes were plastered at your dripping core, lump in his throat and completely mesmerized at its beauty. Your juices sinfully coating you slit. He swore if there wasn't anybody else around, he would have ravished you pussy like an animal. Since you're out here giving him a show that he'll never forget, might as well savour it. He thought things couldn't get any better with you sex on display for him, you open up your legs even more in a whole new different angle. Putting all those gymnastics training to good use. He can virtually see your pink walls with the position your in. He couldn't stop imagining him burying his hard cock inside your tight cunt. Sucking him in when every thrust he made. You left hand slithered its way down to your soaked core, playfully stroking your folds. If Jimin was beside you, he could no doubt hear the way your cream coated skin squelched with every motion you made. Your idle hand managed to loosen the knot of your robe, allowing it fall from your shoulders exposing your round, supple breasts. Nipples instantly hardening at the sudden exposure to the air. Shit, he'd kill just to have his lips around those perky little nipples, sucking on then voraciously until you moan out his name. You could not take all this self-teasing anymore. Jimin's eyes gauges out of its socket as you dip a finger into your damp hole. Jimin thought the heat from the sun was bearable. He'd worked for long hours under it and never complain. But this, you fingering yourself with one hand while the other pulls and twists on your abused nipple was unbearable! The ache between his legs was excruciating he had to casually palm himself. Slightly shifting and bending this leg so that he wasn't noticeable. Another finger goes in, and he's cupping himself harder. He observed your face contort with pleasure at the way you're plunging and curling your two fingers inside of you. Your arousal spilling at the edge of you battered hole, streaming down and accumulating just above your puckered hole. That should be him, he mumbled to himself. Your slender fingers wouldn't be able to satisfy you, unlike his throbbing cock caged inside his boxers, wanting to be set free. Jimin's practically squeezing his dick at this point now, he just wants nothing but to release his ropes cum on you breast while you pleasure yourself. You felt your walls clench around your digits, signalling you that you were nearing climax. You gotta make this quick, Jin, Hoseok or Yugyeom can walk in on you anytime. Adding one last finger, hoping the stretch will help you jump over the edge, you pummeled your cunt with all the strength that you had left. A small moan left your lips and your release came squirting. Coating the marble floor beneath you. Jimim was just as wrecked as you were. His chest was heaving heavily up and down. The only difference was you reached climax, and he didn't, he couldn't. You were steadying you breathing just when you hear Jin yell, "Yo! Jimin! I need you to--" his voice was getting louder and closer. Wide-eyed, you look at Jimin. Mouthing him "Do something!" While you pull yourself together and grab a piece of tissue to wipe your juices off the floor. When you looked up, Jimim wasn't there anymore. He somehow managed to stop Jin from coming any closer to the house from how faintly you hear his voice outside. You sighed and went back to your room. “We’ve done everything we could do today, Ms. Y/n,” Jin happily announces, standing in front of you with his million dollar smile adorning his equally valued face. “We’ll continue everything tomorrow!” “G-great!’ You croaked, substantially tilting your head to see what’s going on behind the tall man’s back. Hoping to catch a glimpse of Jimin. “Ms. Y/n?” he waved his hand in your face, snapping you out of it. “Are you okay?” “Yeah.” You barely reply. Before he could turn his back on you, you managed to pull on his sleeve. “W-where’s Jimin by the way?” He looked surprised, pondering why you’re asking for the boy. “He went back first,” Jin witnessed your facial expression drop, “He said he wasn’t feeling too good.” “O-oh,” you frowned once more, your browns knitting together at the center of your forehead. “Please tell him to get well soon.” “Of course,” He bowed and bid farewell.

++

Tomorrow comes and Jimin was nowhere to be seen. Jin said Jimin was still feeling under the weather and took the whole day off from work. While that may seem plausible, it didn’t sit well in your gut. You felt like there was something off with Jimin. Never has he been absent since the first day he worked for you. What is that little stunt you pulled off yesterday, you thought to yourself. Were you really that repulsive to the point that it had gotten him sick? Did you ruin your chances of having something more than just a short time fling with the most charming boy you’ve ever met? What if he never wanted to see you anymore, what would you do then. Those kinds of thoughts were inevitable, of course. It was all you could think of the entire day. So that night, you decided to send him a text message, the first one too. From you: Hi Jimin. Jin told me that you fell ill. Try not to over work yourself next time. I hope you get well soon. -yn Jimin stared stupidly at the screen. Thinking of what to reply or if he should reply at all. Several words typed then deleted. He genuinely didn’t know what to say to you. He was ashamed of what he’s shown and with his lack of self-control. He felt appalled with himself.  How could he disrespect you like that? You were a client. A client and worker relationship weren’t prohibited, not at all. It was just his work ethics that wanted everything to be strictly professional, he knew how important your role is to their business. The last thing he wanted was to tarnish what his father built from the ground up with a scandal. So he decided to not let his personal life get involved with his work life. It just makes things complicated, like it is right now. The ‘can’t go to work, feeling sick’ wasn’t wholly a lie. The pain wasn’t physical, it was abstract. And no medicine can induce the pain go away, until he saw your following message. From you: Also, I wanted to talk to you about something. It doesn’t have to be right away, you should rest first and get your health back up. Just message me whenever. Goodnight, Jimin. 

There really was no way out, huh. The next day comes and still no Jimin. That was when you confirmed it. You’ve completely and utterly ruined everything. He did not reply to your messages and didn't even want to see your face. It felt like the ground underneath you cracked opened and devoured you whole. That was the very first time in your life that you’ve acted so venturesomely, look what is has cost you. You blame yourself because there was no one else you could point a finger at. Things wouldn't end up the way they are now if you just stayed in your fucking lane. All of this was your fault. You looked back at all the events that happened to you and realized, maybe it was inevitably your fault. Wonwoo wouldn’t have you left if he saw a reason not to. Jimin wouldn’t be ignoring you if he had a reason no to. The course of the entire day was spent with you cooped up inside your room, wallowing away in your own self-pity. You politely told Jin that you needed some time to be alone and he can decide whatever is best for the landscaping. It was around seven in the evening, Jin bid farewell and suggested that if you needed anything, you could call him up. That was extremely thoughtful of him, you think. Another hour passed and the doorbell rings. You weren't expecting anyone though, so you were quite puzzled as to who it might be. The front door open and you see Jimin. He was wearing a navy blue dress shirt that was folded up to his elbows, wow. Sleek black slacks for pants that cinched his slim waist and leather dress shoes to put everything together. What's the occasion, you thought. "Oh, Jimin" you hid the nervous of your voice by pulling him into a hug "I-its good to see you again, what brings you here? Are you feeling better?" "Ah, yes. I'm sorry for being absent these past few days." His head was hanging low and his eyes were looking elsewhere just to avoid yours. "I wanted to apologize." He finally looked at you with his brown orbs that were displaying sincerity. You ushered him to come inside and take a seat on your couch. "Apologize?" You asked, a little bit perplexed "For what exactly?" "For what I did," his voice grew feebler "I shouldn't have done what I did. I shouldn't have disrespected you like that. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you just because I felt the heat of that moment. I'm sorry, y/n. I swear I'm better than that." "Oh, Jimin." You smiled tenderly, cupping his plump cheeks with your hand. "I think it's the other way around. I should be the one apologizing. Back then, I couldn't control myself when I should have. After seeing you, all the emotions I've put aside unexpectedly erupted." With your unoccupied hand, you tightly held his. "The truth is, you really have grown on me in all the best way possible. Initially, I thought it was just the backlash of my divorce egging me. I thought maybe my mind was looking for a rebound to dull the ache. But..."  Your eyes started becoming glassy. You felt him clutch you hand tighten spurring you to continue "I think that's not it. I know it isn't. You've been nothing but a blessing to me, Jimin. An absolute angel. You're sweet, kind, caring, understanding, ugh--" You mocked frustratingly, letting out a small giggle. "You're perfect. I couldn't see anyone that wouldn't fall for you like I have." Jimin's face reflected what he felt at that moment, relief. This wasn't what he was expecting, hence why he averted the confrontation as best as he could. You were the one who was perfect and completely out of his league. You were a beautiful and capable independent woman that any man would kill for. Your ex-husband was beyond stupid to play with your feelings like he did, he knows. But if it wasn't for your ex's stupidity, he wouldn't be here facing the only woman he'd want to be with for the rest of his life. "I thought you wouldn't like me since I was older--." "Stop." He interrupted, stroking his fingers through your locks while gazing at your gorgeous features. The staring contest ended with the both of you smacking lips, eager to taste what has been endured for so long. Impatient longing was evident in every kiss, lick, bite and tug.  You kissed him so fervently that his back was digging against the backrest of the sofa. One of your legs seemed to have a mind of its own and positioned itself to straddle him. "Are you sure you want me?" You queried the boy beneath you, your tone much mischievous from before, it was like there was a flipped switch somewhere. The noticeable change in the atmosphere has got him simply nodding, excited to know there was this side of you that he has not witnessed before. He watched you as you steadily unravel your blouse's satin belt and started to gently caress his wrist. "Would you mind if I tie up these pretty hands of yours?" You hummed, pulling on his hand up to you face and sucking on his middle finger and ring finger. The sensation of your wet mouth around his digits caused his brain to send signals down there. He could already feel himself get rock hard inside his jeans, thinking about how tight your mouth would be if he shoved his dick down you throat. But he'll save that for another day because right now he just wants to let you do what you want to do with him. Right now, he is yours for the taking. You urged him to lean a little closer to you. His face now between the valley of your breast as you meticulously tie his hands behind his back. You pushed him back to his previous position and inquired, "Do you want me to cover your eyes as well?" He shook his head in protest and said, "N-no. I want to see you." There was a pause as he manages to catch his breath, "I-I wanna see you while you make me feel good." You nodded, brushing his hair out of his sweat slicked forehead. From his head, your hand slid lazily down to his neck, to his chest, to his stomach and finally to the growing bulge inside his pants. You palm him unhurriedly, taking your time. Tracing your fingertips over the curve of his caged penis. "Y-y/n.." Jimin griped, observing your hand press against his erection. Somehow enduring the excruciating pain, your teasing had sown. "Can I ask you one last favor?" You purred, peppering his neck with kisses and sucking purple bruises here and there. "W-what is it?" he managed to reply, reveling in the way your teeth nipped against his delicate skin. "Call me noona," Jimin was silent, somewhat waiting for an explanation. When you told him the first time, he met you that he can call you by your first made him feel special because only he could do that. The other workers call you 'Miss' and Jungkook and Taehyung declared you as 'our noona'. "N-noona-" Jimin whined, bucking his hips harder against you hand. He saw your pupils dilate as the word escaped your lips, inflaming something inside you. "Jimin," you growled, squeezing his around his girth ferociously. Buttons were unfastened one after the other, exposing his refined chest and taut muscles. Out of nowhere, you felt raunchy. The tips of your fingernail slowly dragged themselves across his torso, leaving streaks of red in its track. He flung his head back, enjoying the sting that danced on his skin. Jimin squirmed as he felt your weight suddenly leave his lap. His neck snapped back to your direction and damn, what a sight to see. You tucked between his legs and unzipping his pants exposing his angry red-tipped cock oozing out beads of pre-cum. He smirked as he saw you involuntary lick your lips. "You like what you see, noona?" "God, yes." You exhaled, wrapping both your hands around his shaft not because you wanted to, but because it was necessary. Your tiny, little hand could barely encompass his circumference. "Noona's gonna me you feel good, baby." You felt Jimin's dick twitch by the given pet name. "Noona," he groaned, thrusting his member in your grip just to feel any sort of friction. Sensually, you undid your bloused and hurled it somewhere on the floor followed by your bra, exposing your bare chest to the boy. Jimin jerked in his seat, wanting to grab and knead you breast with his own hands. It looked even better up close. The skin smooth and flawless, nipples pert and hard due to the frosty air. "Fuck" he hissed through his teeth, if he could get his mouth on those buds he'd suck them dry and pull it between his teeth making you cry out. "Behave." You scolded him, eyes staring daggers. He stayed in place once again, not wanting to vex you in any way. 

You ran the flat of you tongue on the underside of his length, feeling his skin pulse at contact. Salaciously making your way to its head, you began circling his narrow slit with the tip of your tongue. Feeble moans were the only things escaping his pretty mouth. You seized this moment to swallow him whole down to the hilt, fighting your gag reflex. Your mouth has never felt this stuffed as you moan in satisfaction. Jimin felt the vibration of your throat around his cock, tightening around it. You languidly started bobbing your head up and down, bottoming out with every stroke. With a lewd pop, you tried pulling your mouth off his cock. Strings of saliva dribbled from your lips connecting to his tip. You push yourself up slight and proceeded painting your nipples with the concoction of you saliva and his pre-cum that was coating the tip of his penis. "How does this feel?" You cooed, sandwiching his hard member between your two breasts, erotically pumping the tender flesh up and down his length. "So so gooood, noona" Jimin wheezed blissfully. The sensation of his cock wholly enveloped by your soft mounds is inclining him over the edge. "Noona," he wailed shutting his eyes, the urgency of wanting to release washing over him. By the look of things, you guess he's close. You quicken the pace, feeling the skin of you breast chafe due to friction but you don't care. You clamped your hand on your boobs harder to tighten its hold around his cock and pump faster and faster and faster until he's cumming on you tits. "Shit, noona," Jimin stressed, his breaths labored. You watched as his chest heaved up and down, supplying him with the oxygen he needs after such an intense climax. "Oh no. Look at the mess you made, Jimin." You shook your head, pointing to your breast painted with his milky liquid. "I don't like messes," You sing-song, pushing yourself back up to straddle him once more. You clasped your finger under his chin and commanded, "clean it." His heart stammered in his chest. This is it. This is what he desired. Your perky nipples snug between his lips while your back arches in euphoria. He aggressively lapped up his juices from the skin of your chest with his tongue, leaving no trace of the substance behind. Up and down, left and right, there was no area left untouched by his wet greedy muscles. If he could only see the contorted position he put himself in just to taste you. He doesn't give a shit anymore, he'll gladly eat his cum out of you asshole if you asked. He obscenely sucked you left nipple first, earning the tiniest moan from you. Alternating between light nips and starved slurps, abusing your bud. He then moves to your right nipple, the more sensitive one that has you immediately grinding your clothed core against his semi-hard on. "Let me make you feel good, noona." He desperately whined, concealing his face in the nook of your neck inhaling your fragrant scent. You quirked a brow and asked while weaving you digits through his sweat-damped hair. "What does my baby have in mind?" "Let me.." he croaked. "Louder. I can't hear you." "Let me eat you out, noona. Let me make you feel good." He begged with pleading eyes , fidgeting his hands that were behind his back, trying to untie the belt that was restraining him. "I can make you--" "If you take those off I am kicking you out." You threateningly glared at him, voice deadly like venom. Jimin was scared shitless. He could do nothing but sit silently and obey. "I-I'm sorry, noona. I didn't mean to make you mad." This boy. It may seem like you're the one in control but it is you who are actually wrapped around his little finger. Giving in to what he wants. "It's okay, baby." you massaged his tensed shoulders, soothing him down. "I'll still let you eat me out if you promise not to take off your restraint." You sounded so sweet, the exact opposite of what you were minutes ago. Not wanting to piss you off more, Jimin nodded. You helped him lay down the sofa, propping his head underneath a throw pillow. You stepped to the side and shimmied your pants off. His eyes trailed the article of clothing peeling off your body. When the pair of jeans were long gone, his gaze was attached to your still clothed core. A small wet patch sticking to your folds in the middle was visible. You prop a leg over him, climbing on top of his chest, finding purchase when his face is below your pussy. He could smell the scent of you arousal. Filling up his nostrils and intoxicating his entire nervous system like it's some kind of poison. This by far was the best angle he's seen you in. Seeing it up close, he wished he could at least touch you… You moved into a considerably better position, if you buck your hips the slightest bit, if will directly collide with his mouth. "This what you want baby boy?" You teased, lowering you center on the tip of his nose. Overpowering him even more. "Yes, yes, yes!" He cries out, "I want nothing but your pussy, noona!" You snickered at how desperate he has become, "Who knew you were such a little bitch, Jimin. Loving the way you hands are tied up and thirsting over my pussy." "Yes! I want to taste you, noona. I want to make you feel good until you're squirting all over my face like you did before on the floor. Then I'll eat you up so good, so clean." "Good boy." You thrummed, ultimately taking off your underwear. Letting him marvel at the sight of your woman hood. Clean Shaven, baby smooth, and tulip pink. Without warning, you hastily maneuver yourself, grinding your core against his face. "Put your filthy mouth to good use and make me cum." The sounds he was making were borderline pornographic as hell. His slurps and moans blessing your ears, making your insides rut. He'd occasionally prod his muscles inside your hole then flick on your clit relentlessly. The tensed coil finally snapped and you chase you high by grinding against his face. He's devouring you out like a man starved, sucking out and drinking all the juice your pussy was providing him. Wanting nothing but to be selfish, and have you for himself. He licked you clean, not wasting a single drop of your delicious cum. "I didn't know you were such a disgusting slut for pussy, Jimin." "I, I only want your pussy noona… no one else's." He confessed. "On your knees." You demand. "H-huh?" "I said on you knees. You slut." Jimin dropped down on the floor waiting for your next command like the slut he is. "Tell me how much you want to fuck me." "I-I.." He stuttered with his words, and it made you infuriated. "I said. Tell me how much you want to fuck this tight pussy of mine."  You bellowed, your words bouncing off the walls of your living you. "I want to fuck you so much, noona! I want to bury my cock so deep inside your pussy until I reach your cervix then I'll fuck you some more. I want nothing but to fill you up with my seed and put a baby in you, noona! I'll fuck you so good that you'll want to you pussy filled by me every day!" He cried, plunging his head on the floor in a begging for your life bow. "Please, please, please!" Jimin was hysterical at this point, screaming and begging you to let him fuck you. "Noona, please. I'll fuck you so good that you'll forget about all your problems." You shiver at his submission and once again, he's got you eating at the palm of his hands. You freed his wrist and he lunges at you, hustling you up against the wall. "Noona," he breathed in the smell of your shampoo, steadying his hands on your hips fingers digging into your skin. "You don't know how much I wanted to put my hands on you. I can't take it anymore, noona."  he pressed his erection against your slick folds "I need to be inside you." "Then show noona what that dirty cock can do." you smirked, challenging the boy. He gripped both of your thighs and carried you to the dinner table. Laying you down before spreading your legs open for him. He aligned his cock to your entrance, pushing gradually, inch by inch until he bottomed out. The stretch was incredible, you were already dripping wet but there was still the sting that lingered from his size. Your walls were trying resisting the force, convulsing around his length spontaneously. "You're tighter than I've imagined, noona." You did kegels around him, eliciting a sharp groan from the boy. "Fuck, Noona. You were made for my cock." You hummed in agreement, relishing the sensation of him pushing in and out of your tight hole. "Baby.." You moaned wantonly, elevating you butt so that he could have a better angle while penetrating you ruthlessly. "Your thick long cock is the best I've ever had. Better than my ex-husband's pathetic excuse for a dick." His ego doubled at your praise, pride blooming in his chest. "More, noona.. please tell me how great my cock is for you.." "Ahhh-- ahh. Jimin!" You bit your lip, clenching around him. "You're taking remarkably good care of noona. Fucking your noona so good. I love your cock so much. I want you to fill me up with you cum. Yeah? Hmmmm. Make your noona the happiest by cumming inside my pussy." There was the push he needed, he was plunging further into you. He felt the barrier of your cervix and broken through it before spilling all his seed into your womb. You quickly followed when you felt the warmth of his juices flowing into you. Your velvet walls convulsed around his cock, milking him for all his worth. Silence fell on the both of you, only the south of your panting and harsh breath resonated. You supported yourself up with you elbows as Jimin pull out his now flaccid penis. You felt the trickle of both of your releases slobber out of your sore hole. "Baby, do noona a favor and clean up the mess you've made with your mouth." Jimin without hesitation obeyed and dove right in. Making sure to get every last drop of yours and his cum with his tongue. He lifted his head, mouth glistening from your juices. You pulled him closer to pet his held. "You were such a good boy for noona. Bring me to bed." He obliged, carrying you bridal style to your room. His muscles rippling under your stripped body. "Noona?" He questioned while his face was still cuddling your tummy. "Hmm?" "Did I make you feel good?" You lifted up his face and said, "You made me feel so good, baby." You assured, loving the way his eyes turn into crescent moons endearing when he smiles. "Can we do that again? But this time I want the blindfolds." He flashed a cheeky grin. You smirked at his innocence, placing a kiss on his temple. "Of course, baby. We have all the time in the world." ++ The sound of knocking on your front door wakes you up, seems like this is will be a regular thing now. You managed to put on an oversized shirt and underwear on before heading to the source of the noise. You opened the doors at was bet by Jungkook and Taehyung. "Good morning, boys." You yawned, gesturing them to come in. "Uhm. Good morning, noona" Jungkook croaked, pushing his senior to speak on his behalf. "See, we haven't heard from Jimin since last night so uh-- it's just jungkook and I that'll be finishing up work today." Taehyung stated. "About that…." 

You heard the door of your room creak open and out comes Jimin with nothing but this boxers on and hickeys all over his neck and chest. The two boys looked at each other dumbfoundedly and once they've put two and two together, huge grins were plastered on their faces. End

tell me what u think pls