#ch: ruse

[gloomforrestrunes]

Chapter 2, Page 75

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hi. this scene is very short but its a lot. sorry ♥

[pockethep]

Of courrrrssssseeee Asa is ending up fighting literal embodiment of the fear of falling when almost all of her traumatic experiences so far have been related to her tripping and falling including falling into despair (Ch.122), falling for Denji, and falling for Yoshida’s ruse…

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and The Raven Ch 4: The Duel

Chapter Summary: Daemon couldn't believe that his daughter was betrothed. As he stared at the Lord of House Blackwood, Daemon decided if Lord Benjicot Blackwood was truly serious about his daughter, he needed to prove it to the Prince.

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Daemon stared at the young lord, watching his facial features, but the boy seemed to know how to mask his emotions. After another beat, Daemon turns to his daughter, smirking tauntly. 

“I think I misunderstood you, my sea dragon -” 

“There is no misunderstanding, Kepa ; I have chosen Lord Benjicot Blackwood as my betrothed.” Aemma clarified schooling her features to be indifferent, knowing that her father would try to get a ruse out of her. 

Daemon’s frown deepened as he looked at his daughter's face. She was serious. “Has your mother given her approval on this boy?” 

Aemma cursed internally, knowing that her betrothal was not officially valid since her mother had not sealed her approval. 

Aemma cleared her throat. “I have sent a letter to let her know of my intentions. She will trust my judgment of Ben—Lord Blackwood. 

Daemon deadpanned at his daughter for using the blackwood boy’s name with such familiarity. Knowing he wasn’t going anywhere with his daughter, he focused on the boy.  

“And you, boy, do you think you are worthy of my daughter? A princess with the blood of Old Vayria?” Questioned Daemon as he stalked towards Benji, who straightened his back, never breaking eye contact with the Rouge Prince. 

“Well…. I think you are just some boy who will piss his pants at the first sight of battle. Do you even know how to fight? Hmmm, boy… where were you when your brother foug-” 

“DAEMON!” shouted Aemma angrily, as she saw Benji grow angrier with each sentence her father said. 

Daemon smirked at seeing the boy break from his poker face, but his smirk fell once he noticed Aemma's anger. She looked just like her mother, returning memories of how he left Dragonstone. Sighing through his nose, Daemon refocused himself. 

“Fine, if you think you are so worthy, I challenge you to show your skills in a duel,” stated Daemon. He noticed his daughter widen her eyes, and the Blackwood boy gave him a crooked smirk. He was either brave or stupid, that boy. 

“I accept your challenge, Prince Daemon,” agreed Benji as he noticed his aunt arriving with his men. “If you excuse me, I need to settle my men, Prince Daemon, Princess Aemma,” said Benji as he bowed and walked away. 

Aemma watched as Benji left her and her father, upset that he once returned to propriety by using her title; she was getting used to being just Aemma to him. Aemma turned to her father giving him the stink eye. 

“What?” Asked Daemon, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he noticed her expression. 

“You could have been nicer or at least given more respect to him, and you trying to ruse him by using his brother, Kepa -” Aemma explained her disappointment but was cut off by her father. 

“I needed to see his worth, and I stopped, didn’t I? Besides, I will know if he is worthy of you from the duel.” Daemon defended himself as he and Aemma started walking towards camp. 

“Are you really going to duel him?” Asked Aemma as she stopped to look at her father in disbelief. 

Daemon paused, looking at her reaction; he chuckled while taking a strand of her hair between his fingers. 

“I will not be the one dueling him… you are.”

Aemma’s eyes widden in shock, “But-” 

“I never told the boy it was me; you and him assumed it would be me. I trained you, and you have bested me a few times. Who else can prove if that boy is worthy of your hand if not yourself?” explained truthfully to his daughter. 

Aemma, understanding her father’s words, agreed and continued walking to the camp. She saw Aly and Benjicot greeting the Wolf of Winterfell. As Aemma joined the group, they bowed to the princess. Lord Cregan Stark gave Aemma a wolfish grin as he took her hand and kissed it. 

“Princess, it's good to see you again. How is Prince Jacaerys? Asked the Winter wolf. 

Unbeknownst to him, Benjicot’s smile turned to a sneer once he saw the Lord of Winterfell kiss her hand. Again, the ugly monster of jealously clawing up his chest. 

“My brother is doing fine at Dragonstone, although I have a feeling he will be joining us soon,” replied Aemma sweetly. Cregan had become a good friend and ally to the siblings. She turned to Benji, and her smile loosened, noticing his sneer. Seeing the princess staring, Benji bowed and turned to walk to his tent. 

“Um, if you excuse me, Cregan, I need to speak with Lord Blackwood. Have you met his aunt, Lady Alysanne Blackwood?” Aemma hurried an excuse as she walked away, leaving them behind. 

Cregan, with his eyes, followed the princess going towards the Blackwood tents before he awkwardly smiled at Alysanne. 

Aemma entered the tent and saw Benji sharpening his sword with hard eyes and a clenched jaw. She walked in to stand beside him, but the young man did not notice as he continued sharpening his sword. Aemma sighed and reached to touch his cheek, which made Benji flinch as he glared up, only to widen his eyes once he realized who it was. Aemma smiled as she lowered herself in front of her betrothed. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Aemma as she held her hand to his cheek, lightly caressing it. 

Benji shook his head and went to turn away from her, “Nothing…” 

Aemma quickly turned his head towards her again, with a frown mirroring her face. “Don’t lie to me, Ben. Let us not start our courtship with lies. What bothers you? Was it my father?” asked Aemma quietly. 

Benjicot sighed deeply before looking at her entirely. She raised her eyebrows and waited for his response.

“I don’t like how familiar he was to you…” Benji finally explained. 

Aemma was confused about who he was talking about when it clicked: he was talking about Cregan. Aemma giggled, which only made Benji’s frown deepen.

“Cregan…Lord Stark is a friend and only a friend, Ben. He and my brother grew close to each other. There is nothing between him and I, and there never will be.”  Aemma explained as she leaned closer to Benji. 

Benjicot wanted to believe his princess, but he just couldn’t; how could Lord Stark not want to court her? She was gorgeous. Aemma sighed, seeing how he didn’t fully believe her words. Feeling daring, she stood up and sat on his knees, her legs on either side, cradling his face. 

“There will never be anything between me and Lord Stark because he does not make me feel the same feelings as when I am with you,” she whispered.  

Instead of replying, Benji reached up, grabbed her face with his hands, and kissed her. His kiss was desperate as if she were telling him she would leave him. Aemma gasped at the sudden kiss, but she leaned more toward him instead of pulling away. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands left her face and onto her waist, bringing her body closer to him. The world seemed to melt away as they deepened their kiss, and as much as Aemma was enjoying it, she knew they had to stop before risking it going too far. She slowly pulled away before giving one last peck at the corner of his mouth. 

“We should stop; we can’t risk anything… not until our wedding.” 

Benji smirked before he nuzzled her neck in contentment. Aemma giggled at the sensation, his hair tickling her as she held him in content. Feeling that she could spend hours like that when they heard a slight cough. Both heads turned quickly to see Aly smirking at them at the tent's entrance. Aemma blushed furiously and jumped off Benji’s lap, which made Benji quickly glare at his aunt before standing. 

“ You both are lucky it was just me who found you. Ben, you know better,” Alysanne lightly scolded as she entered the tent. 

“Are you here just to scold me, dear aunt, or did you need something?” asked Benji as he grabbed Aemma’s hand, caressing her knuckles.

Alysanne’s smirk widened, “Prince Daemon is looking for you both; something about our dear Ben proving his worth? What does he mean by that?”  

Aemma stiffened before she released Benji’s hand, “I should go and help him prepare…I will see you there, yes?” 

Benji stared at her but slowly nodded as he watched her leave the tent. He then turned to his aunt, who gave him a questioning stare while waiting for her answer. 

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

In Dragonstone, Queen Rhaenyra was eating her lunch with Jacaerys, Rhaenys, and Baela when Maester Gerardys came in holding two letters. 

“My queen, two ravens came by, one from Princess Aemma and the other from Prince Daemon.” Gerardys held the letters to Rhaenyra before bowing and leaving the room. 

Rhaenrya held both letters before handing Prince Daemon’s letter to Jace, asking him to read it. She was still upset with him and his actions. Then she hurriedly opened her daughter's letter, wanting to know how her time in Raventree Hall was spent. As she read, she was pleased to see that Aemma was accepted, and the people of House Blackwood were grateful. Stopping at the words “I have done my duty…” she was interrupted by Jace asking a question. 

“What does Daemon mean? ‘Our sea dragon has gotten a pet raven.” Jace asked, looking at his mother and grandmother in confusion.

All three women were equally confused regarding the statement.  Rhaenys reached for the letter and re-read the statement, noting that it held no more explanation, just those simple words. Baela, seeing her grandmother’s puzzled look, turned to her stepmother. 

“ Muna, maybe in Aemma’s letter, there will be an explanation of what Kepa wrote. 

Rhaenyra smiled at her and decided to read Aemma’s letter out loud so they could hear it. She started to read from where she left off.

“ Muna , I have done my duty to strengthen our house with allies. If your approval is given, my queen, I have decided to give my hand of marriage to Lord Benjicot Blackwood.” 

Gasps were heard as Jace quickly stood up and took the letter from her, re-reading the letter. Rhaenyra was shocked. She and her daughter haven’t even discussed marriage, yet she stated that she was betrothed in her letter. Baela and Rhaenys were equally shocked but decided to wait before expressing their thoughts. 

“This was not a decision made at the spur of the moment; both houses, Blackwood and Targaryen, can benefit much from our union…I eagerly await your answer at Harrenhall. With Love, Crown Princess Aemma Velayron.” Finished Jace with a sour look on his face. He didn’t know this, Lord Blackwood. Had he forced his sister to make this match? But Daemon would never allow that. 

“ Muna , we must send a letter rejecting the match and telling Aemma to come back home we-” Jace ranted as he reached for a parchment only to have his mother stop him. 

“Jace, we must trust both your sister’s and father’s judgment; if Daemon has not expressed rejection of the betrothal, then we should allow both your sister and her intended the chance.” Soothed Rhaenyra, as she knew her son would not want to agree.

“But..” 

“Jace,” whispered Baela while staring at her betrothed. “We should listen to your mother, sister, and my father. If Kepa likes him, then he must be worthy of Aemma.” 

“How about we allow Jacaerys to meet the lad and get a feel for him? If he approves, we will start making quick preparations for the wedding. We should be quick with the wedding as war is so close. If not, he will return with Aemma to Dragonstone?” proposed Rhaenys, trying to be diplomatic, even though she wanted her granddaughter back in her arms. 

Rhaenyra considered it for a moment before she, too, nodded. 

“Yes, we will do that, Jace; go quickly and swiftly to Harrenhall. Get to know Lord Blackwood and see if he is the best for our sweet Aemma. Baela, go with him in case Aemma becomes difficult for Jace.” 

Both Jace and Baela nodded and left to get ready for the trip. Jace is determined not to give Benjicot Blackwood a chance, as he felt that Cregan would be the perfect husband for his sister. 

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

Aemma was finishing her laces when her father came into the tent holding something behind his back. 

“Is everything ready?” asked Aemma as she walked to her father. 

“Yes, the boy is eagerly waiting at the training field, poor fool,” chuckled Daemon. His laugh only grew once he saw his daughter send a glare toward him. 

Daemon grinned widely, “I have a gift for you… rather than using an old sword, you, as a Targaryen princess, should hold a Valyrian steel.” Daemon brought out a shortsword, which took Aemma’s breath away as she took hold of it. 

The sword was light enough for her to swing easily. The handle was a beautiful black, and two dragons were carved on each side, their eyes made from rubies.  

Aemma grinned as she hugged her father, grateful for the gift. Daemon returned the hug and nuzzled her head, whispering, “Do not go easy on him; let all see the true power of the dragon.”

Daemon let go of her, and the two walked to the training grounds, where a huge crowd gathered, waiting for the duel. Benjicot was speaking with two lads, who happened to be heir Kermit and his brother Oscar Tully. Once the Prince and Princess reached the grounds, the crowd turned to them. 

Daemon smirked condescendingly at the Lord of Raventree Hall, “Well, boy, are you ready to prove yourself?” 

Benji returned a rabid grin, his tongue running through his teeth, “More than ready, my Prince; I am eager to duel with you.” 

Daemon laughed, which stopped Benji and brought a frown to his face. 

“Oh, you think you will be fighting me, my mistake, but you won’t be dueling with me.” 

Puzzled, Benjicot looked at the Prince like he grew an extra head, “If not you, then who…” Benji never finished his sentence as he made eye contact with Princess Aemma, who grinned at him, spinning her new sword in her hands. 

“You will be dueling Princess Aemma, one of the best sword fighters in Dragonstone. Beat or catch her in a draw, and you will have my blessing.” explained The Rouge Prince as he sat.

Benjicot’s eyes widened as he stared at his Princess, seeing her getting into position. 

“I wish you luck, Lord Blackwood,” spoke Princess Aemma as she saw him become more confident, giving her a smirk. 

“And to you, my princess,” Benjicot stated before he lunged at her. 

Aemma waited until he nearly reached her to pivot and turn to him while swinging her sword, almost grazing the young Lord, who dropped and tried to kick the legs from under her. Thankful for her quick reflexes from flying, she jumped back, grinning. Benjicot quickly stood, his eyes becoming wilder as he and the princess continued striking and dodging. The crowd stared in awe; it looked like the young lord and princess were dancing instead of dueling, unable to take their eyes off each other. 

Aemma was getting frustrated and bored, thinking the duel should have ended a while ago. Of course, it went to show the skill level Benjicot had with his sword if neither of them could get to the other. In the last strike, Aemma saw Benjicot widen his stance a little too much as he turned to her. Grinning, she pivoted away from him and kicked him on his shin. Causing the young man to buckle, as she pushed him to the floor while kicking his sword away as she swung hers. Benji quickly rolled away and kicked her feet from under her, causing her to lose her grip and drop her sword.  Using this time, Benji promptly reached for his sword, swinging it as he turned to her. Then, everyone inhaled sharply. Aemma and Benji each held their swords to each other's necks, breathing heavily. A pause happened between them as they struggled to catch their breath. 

Cregan smiled, “I believe we have a draw, everyone.” 

This prompted everyone to cheer as they surrounded the lord and princess, who grinned at each other and moved away from each other, allowing them to stand side by side. The cheering then quieted once Prince Daemon walked up to the pair. 

“Not bad, boy. You truly have some skill…  but I have one last question.” 

Benjicot stared at the Prince, making sure never to break eye contact.  

Prince Daemon approached Benji and asked, “Would you give up your life for her if given the chance?” 

Both Aly and Aemma gasped in shock at the question, “ Kepa , what-” 

Daemon raised his hand, pausing her, and continually stared at the Lord of House Blackwood. 

“We are at war and have many enemies who will do everything to hurt her or, worse, kill her, so boy, if you needed to, would you give your life for her to ensure she had the best chance to survive.” 

Benjicot stared at the Rouge Prince as the rest of the crowd stared in tense silence. Finally, Benjicot kneed in front of the prince, who proudly stated. 

“I swear upon the Old Gods of the North and the Fourteen Flames of Valyria that I, Benjicot Blackwood, Lord of Raventree Hall, will love and cherish Crown Princess Aemma Valeyron with everything in my body and soul. To protect and keep her happy and, if need be, lay down my life for her from now until the day I die.” 

During his pledge, Princess Aemma started smiling, her eyes welling with tears, and she looked at her father with hopeful eyes. Daemon stared at his daughter before he sighed; he could never say no to her. Daemon reached out and held out his hand for Benji to take. As he helped raise the young from the ground, Daemon shook his hand. 

“Very well, you have my blessing to continue courting her until the queen sets the day for your wedding.” 

The crowd again cheered as Prince Daemon walked away, allowing Aly Blackwood to hug the princess and the Tully brothers clapping Benjicot on the back with Cregan smiling in the background. Aemma, feeling giddy from the leftover adrenaline, ran to Benji, jumping into his arms and kissing him. Which made the Blackwood and Northern men start whistling.  After a while, she separated herself from him, blushing, as he ducked his head, suddenly feeling shy with all the attention on him and his princess. 

In the distance, two dragon roars were heard, making everyone turn to the sky widely while Aemma and Daemon looked up. 

“DRAGONS!” yelled a few knights as people ran from the clearing. Moondancer and Vermax came into view. Aemma grinned at seeing her brother and step-sister landing as she quickly walked to greet them, with Daemon, Benjicot, and Cregan following her. Once Jace helped Baela off Moondancer, he barely had enough time to compose himself as his sister jumped him. Laughing, he picks her up and spins her around. He had missed her terribly. After putting her down, he smiled at Cregan and nodded at Daemon before he noticed Benjicot. Jacaerys sobered up, looking at the young lord up and down, analyzing him. 

“Lord Blackwood…”

[slayfics]

Unknown Pleasures Ch. 3

You’ve had a crush on Katsuki Bakugo since joining UA, but will another student change your mind?

1.3k words

Chapter links

The following day after your argument, Katsuki was sitting in the common room of the dorms, eating breakfast before classes. He saw you make your way down from the dorms and walk into the kitchen to grab some food.

Once you had grabbed your food you quickly scanned the room and made your way over to take a seat next to Hitoshi. Katsuki blinked, expecting the sight to disappear. Sure, you two had argued last night, but that wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Usually, these fights were forgotten the next day and you'd go back to prancing by Katsuki's side.

Katsuki heard your stunt last night, the way you raised your voice so he could clearly hear you talking to Hitoshi. He knew it was a stunt to try and make him jealous. Why were you still keeping this act up though, he wondered. It's not like he could believe you actually cared for that purple haired freak. The dude looked like a zombie, and he was far behind the rest of your class with hero work. There was nothing admirable about him at all.

Yet, there you sat having breakfast with him. Smiling about something. Katsuki grunted, and decided you'd get over your tantrum eventually and realize your act wasn't working. Katsuki almost felt bad for Hitoshi, who plainly had a crush on you. Didn't you realize it was cruel for you to use him that way?

Katsuki watched as you and Hitoshi finished up eating and made your way out of the dorms together. A sinking feeling hit his stomach when you didn't turn to glance at him even once. Didn't you want to see if your ruse was working? Wouldn't you want to check if Katsuki looked upset by you giving your attention to someone else?

"Hey man you alright?" Eijiro asked, snapping Katsuki out of his thoughts.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, "What the fuck was that about?" he asked, head bobbing in the direction of you and Hitoshi leaving the building.

"Oh, those two? I don't know but they were up late last night hanging out," Eijiro answered.

"Are you serious?" Katsuki snapped. He had heard your comment complimenting Hitoshi's room, but he hadn't heard you stayed to talk to him for any longer than that.

"Yeah, I was going downstairs to get some water when I saw her leave Shinso's room. I know you guys had a fight last night, everything ok?" Eijiro questioned.

"Everything is fine," he grunted.

Eijiro hummed unconvinced, "Ok if you say so, but if you're worried maybe you should talk to her. Apologize," he suggested.

"HAH? For what!?" Katsuki exclaimed.

"I don't know- whatever you two fought about. I’m just saying don’t you want to be on good terms with the person you like?” Eijiro asked.

“I didn’t say I like her!” Katsuki yelled.

“Oh... so you don’t like her?” Eijiro questioned, tilting his head confused. He knew Katsuki well by now and it was obvious to him Katsuki had some type of feelings for you.

“I didn’t say that either!” Katsuki barked, becoming even more frustrated.

“Relax man, but you should probably figure that out though… from what I heard she seemed to be getting along really well with Shinso…” Eijiro stated.

“Tch- whatever,” Katsuki mumbled, then quickly grabbed his bag to head off to class.

The rest of the day didn't go any better. Once he walked into class, he saw you sitting on Hitoshi's desk, idly playing with his lavender locks while you two chatted. Give it up already, Katsuki grunted to himself. Paying no attention to you or Hitoshi, Katsuki took his seat near the front of the class. The problem was, you didn't pay any mind to Katsuki either. Continuing your conversation with Hitoshi without a second thought to Katsuki entering the room.

Katsuki found himself letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when Aizawa walked in causing you and Hitoshi to finally separate.

What the hell could eye bags even be talking to you about that was so interesting anyway. The useless shit he learned in general studies?

Throughout Aizawa's lecture, Katsuki found his thoughts wandering off.

Did you not care at all about your fight with him? Why hadn’t you said anything to him all day? Are you actually interested in Hitoshi?

Katsuki expected that by lunch time things would have gone back to normal. However, he couldn’t have been more wrong. When Aizawa dismissed the class for lunch, you bounced right over to Hitoshi. A wide grin adorned your face as you two walked to the cafeteria.

What the fuck?

Katsuki's grip on his bag tightened, and his knuckles whitened. Couldn’t you stop playing around and drop the act already?

Completely focused on watching you and Hitoshi disappear into the crowd, he didn’t hear the perky redhead sneak up behind him.

“You look pretty upset man,” Eijiro observed.

“I’M FINE!” Katsuki yelled, alerting some passing students to jump.

But he wasn’t fine. The pit in his stomach only grew as he watched you scoot closer to Hitoshi at lunch. The two of you laughed at something you showed him on your phone.

The way Hitoshi leaned into you to get a better view of your screen made Katsuki want to scream. Did you intend to keep this up until Katsuki gave in and said something? Or worse… was this real? Were you actually enjoying Hitoshi’s company?

As more time passed, Katsuki found it harder and harder to deny that this act was just a show. His ego argued with him that you couldn't actually be interested in another boy. Yet, there you sat laughing and smiling with someone else.

Then it all came to a head during the afternoon training session.

The training was simple sparing matches. A random drawing decided which two students would spar together. Comically so, Katsuki and Hitoshi were paired to spar.

You felt your breath catch in your throat when the match was announced. Why did it have to be Katsuki? Your nerves stood on end, as the two boys made their way to the designated sparring ground.

It's fine, you attempted to soothe yourself. Katsuki obviously didn't care about you or Hitoshi, right? If he did, he would have attempted to reconcile today after the nasty fight you two had last night.

The whole class was on edge as they waited for the spar to begin. As if everyone was wondering the same thing, Katsuki wouldn't go too hard on him right?

But just as Katsuki had underestimated your feelings for Hitoshi, everyone underestimated Katsuki's jealousy.

Within a few minutes of the spar, Katsuki had Hitoshi on the floor. The recent transfer to the hero course was no match for the experienced Katsuki. Attempting to hold his own, Hitoshi wrapped the capture scarf around Katsuki's wrists to no avail. A strong blast still came his way effectively knocking him out cold.

Katsuki's jealousy and rage getting the best of him, he let out another explosion directed at his classmate despite him being already knocked out on the floor. Aizawa quickly stepped in to stop the now one-sided beating.

Once the smoke and rubble had cleared the gruesome scene came into view. Hitoshi was on the floor, unconscious, fresh wounds across his face, dirtied from the soot of Katsuki's explosions.

The sight elicited a frenzy response from you. Your fists clenched, face hot, and ears ringing you trampled over to the sparing ground. Interrupting the lecture Katsuki was receiving from Aizawa, you broke in between and slapped Katsuki across the face.

Everyone froze, even Aizawa was caught off guard by your behavior.

Katsuki looked at you astonished, speechless for one of the first times in his life.

"YOU DIDN'T NEED TO GO THAT HARD!" You yelled.

The stinging on his cheek, the distraught look in your eyes, and the venom laced in your words made the realization finally hit. It wasn't an act.

"You really like him?" Katsuki mused almost to himself.

sinners: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @peachsukii @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams

[jakescaravel]

A Lovey Promise

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 4,718

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, being tipsy, friends to lovers, kissing, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dares, teasing, dom Jake, hickeys, praise, very very slight allusions to pain (only briefly), orgasm denial, 18+ MDNI!!!

Summary: Your best friend, dripping with a level of confidence that slightly annoys you, delivers an offer, a bet that you simply can't refuse...

6 empty shot glasses sit on the coffee table in front of you thanks to you and Jake’s ongoing tradition. That being shots and a movie, always picked at random (that part being very important), at least once a month although it usually ends up being more.

You lay on the couch curled into Jake’s side underneath a warm comforter. Your hand softly rests on his chest, feeling the gentle beat of his heart along with the subtle ruse and fall of his chest. His arm wraps around you, cocooning you in your shared world of peace, calming you in a way only capable by Jake. It’s so easy to feel safe with him like this. Sometimes when the two of you hang out, you forget that anyone else exists at all. Just the two of you in his small, old apartment.

The cuddling is entirely platonic of course. Not many people understand you and Jake’s friendship, but to the two of you, it makes perfect sense. Sure you guys cuddle and hang out constantly, and maybe you’ve shared a few makeout sessions after having one too many, but those were just “mistakes”. He’s your best friend. And nothing more.

You’re definitely feeling the alcohol and Jake must be as well due to his slightly slurred speech and uncensored Jake commentary.

“Whaddyou think ‘bout the movie Lovey?”

You can feel his head turn towards yours when he speaks, chin resting atop your head, although you can’t see his face. His use of your nickname warms your heart. Especially because of the way it floats off his adorably inebriated tongue. You had earned that nickname after buying a boyfriend of yours flowers years ago- an act Jake thought to be silly and just plain backwards. (“You’re such a hopeless romantic, you’re so lovey dovey, it's honestly sickening. What, does this guy not buy you flowers? Do I need to have a talk with him? Bet he doesn’t fuck you right either…)

The name stuck ever since, but of course you love it. 

“I don’t really know what's going on to be honest.”

“Yeah… itsnot very good.” He states matter of factly before a yawn passes his lips. “Oh look, they're kissing, finally some action!”

Huffing a laugh at his almost childlike revelation, you sit up a little taller and turn your head back toward the screen. The two characters, nameless due to your lack of attention, sit on a couch, hands chasing after each other. She moans into the kiss, parting her lips for him as he lays her down on the couch. Your thighs clench together on their own accord and you could have sworn it’s subtle, but Jake lets out a giggle.

You decide to ignore him completely with your eyes still glued to the screen. Jake’s remarks have stopped, telling you he’s watching just as intently as you, and all of a sudden you’re very aware of how close you are to him. His breathing, his hair ticking your face, his smell. He always smells so good, fresh and clean, but buried below a layer of sweat and musk. So Jake, so perfect. 

You wonder what he's thinking about. Maybe if he too notices the proximity of your bodies, or the way your breathing has slowly picked up.

The man’s hand drifts down as the girl let’s out another overly dramatic moan. Of course the screen doesn’t really show anything, but it sure leaves a lot to the imagination, letting your mind wander without hopes of stopping. 

Jake shifts on the couch, his hand falling from around your shoulder to land around your hip. He pulls you closer to him and speaks again, but this time the playful quality to his voice is gone, and all that’s left is a low grumble.

“Do you think she’s enjoying it?” His other hand comes to your chin, pulling your face to look at him.

“What?” You try to look away from his eyes, the heated stare overwhelming you in your current flustered state, but his grip tightens forcing you to stare straight into his piercing brown eyes.

“Do you think that girl is having fun?” His lips curl into an alluring smile when he sees your slightly panicked state, releasing his hand from your chin, but not before quickly letting his thumb dart over your cheek.

You force yourself to maintain the contact, his dark gaze pulling you deeper into your thoughts and he offers you a smile that too closely resembles a smirk. You curse the heat growing between your legs at just the sight of that stupid smug look you want so badly to wipe from his face. Taking a grounding breath, you answer as if he hasn’t affected you at all. 

“Yeah I mean she’s moaning like a pornstar so it can’t be that bad.” 

He turns back to the screen nodding slowly, his lips pursed. “Well this guy is clearly not experienced.” 

You look back to the screen, questioning it for yourself. You guess you haven't really been paying attention to the details. It’s funny how anything slightly erotic just shuts off the brain, causing it to act like a horny sex zombie.

“Yeah this guy has no idea what he’s doing.” He states again, an air of confidence in his tone that amuses you. 

“Oh really? And you’ve got it all figured out right?”

“Well yeah.” He quips back.

You can’t help the laugh that trills out. All guys think the same; they all think they’re the best in bed, and they all think they make their girl cum when really… they never have.

“What, you don’t believe me?” A stupid grin paints his face and he pokes your cheek, making them instantly flame.

“No Jake, I don’t think you could please a woman any better than this guy.” You point to the small screen again, rolling your eyes.

“Oh reallyyy.” He drags out the last syllable as he sits up to face you.

You turn to him, cutting your eyes at his sneering face. He reaches for the bottle of vodka on the coffee table, taking a swig straight from the bottle. You force your eyes away from his bobbing adam's apple as the liquid goes down. He doesn’t even wince.

“I could make a girl cum with just my fingers.”

You roll your eyes again, trying to ignore the warmness that has made its way to your cheeks. When you look back to Jake, you can tell that he’s made no joke, no silly remark. He’s being serious.

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“No.”

“I could prove it to you.”

You let out a slow shaky breath after realizing you had been holding it in. You extend your hand to reach for the bottle. Taking a generous swing of the burning liquid, you return your attention to the man in front of you.

“You could prove it to me?”

“I bet I could make you cum with just these.” He holds up his hand, wiggling his fingers in the air.

“Bullshit.”

“You really don’t believe me huh Lovey? You’ve never heard what they say about guitarists?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

His voice is low, dripping with sex and his tongue comes out licking a slow line along his bottom lip. He smirks when he notices you staring. And god, that little nickname, what used to seem so innocent now having a playful bite.

“I bet I could make you cum three times with just my fingers.” He holds them up again, reaching out to touch your face. You jump back and he laughs at you.

He stares at you, waiting for a response. Your mind is racing along with your heart. There’s no way he’s being serious… but the look on his face tells you otherwise. He raises his eyebrows again in question.

“Is that a bet?”

“Maybe it is… and you know I never lose.”

He’s referring to his competitiveness by nature. It’s true that as long as you've known him, he won’t stand losing. It’s a part of being a Kiszka you’ve figured out by now. They always bend the rules in their favor, making sure they’re on the winning side of whatever bet, whatever contest. 

“I don’t think you’re winning this one Jakey.” You mean for it to come off as condescending but the second you hear the words come out of your mouth you wish to pull them back in. You can tell he’s taken them as an even further challenge as his eyebrows raise in question.

He leans forward on the couch, planting his hands on his knees until you can feel his breath.

“Well I wouldn’t lose, but just to humor you, I’ll bet you whatever you want.”

A low tingle has formed inside your stomach. A familiar feeling - the anxious excitement. The thrill of the flirt, although you still can’t tell just how playful it is, and that thought alone makes you want to hurl or pounce on him, you still haven’t decided. 

“I get whatever I want?” For some reason, confidence is building inside you. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you - so sure of himself that you have no choice but to match the energy. Or maybe it’s because deep down, you know you want whatever he’s thinking of giving to you.

He gives you a slow nod, smiling again at your new slightly eager tone.

“I want you to admit that you’re not some guitar god, you’re just another guy. You need to stop acting so full of yourself, you need to be humbled.”

He laughs again, a genuine laugh that reminds you of your best friend, although it doesn’t seem that’s the person sitting in front of you right now.

“Sure y/n, and if I win, you have to call me ‘The Sex God.’ ”

The nervous laughter bubbles out of you as you cast your eyes to your feet. The worst part of this is that he’s acting like such a douchebag, but you don’t hate it. In fact you find yourself wanting to know what it’s like to sleep with the sex god, as stupid as it sounds.

“Why do you want to so bad Jakey?”

“Well first of all, don’t act like you don’t want to, I can see it written all over your face. You forget I know you better than anyone. And second, don’t act so naive.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, simultaneously nervous and excited for the answer.

“I love you and care about you, so much, you’re my best friend, but don’t act like we’re above all that. We’ve kissed before y/n, you really think we’d never go farther?”

“Well… I’m not really sure. I guess the thought crossed my mind… maybe I thought it would happen eventually.”

Your own confession slightly shocks you, but as soon as you say the words aloud, nothing has ever made more sense. You look back to him and he looks almost proud of you, and it makes you want to jump into his arms and suck the praise right out of him.

“That’s my girl.” He smiles again, flashing you all his teeth, making your heart melt all over again.

“Come on, don’t overthink it.” 

He starts to stand up, making the whole situation seem very, very real. You close your eyes for a moment, just in case this is some sort of dream, but when you open them, you’re even more sure that this is what you want. You want him. You want your best friend, and as wrong as it might be, it's the truth.

He extends his hand, a simple gesture, an invitation, and you take it, letting him lead you into unknown waters.

He pulls you in front of him, letting you lead the way to the room you’ve slept in a million times. His hands meet your hips as you walk, the touch feeling searing hot and trickling down until you can feel the wetness between your legs.

Your mind is simultaneously racing and completely empty. How is it that an act so forbidden could feel so right? So simple?

The curtains are pulled back on the window allowing a sliver of moonlight to poke into the room. Aside from that, the lights are off and you almost ask him to turn them on but then decide it’s probably for the best.

Once he reaches the bed, he turns to face you and his features start to come into view as your eyes adjust to the darkness. He wears a smug grin as he extends his hand for you to grab once more. He sits on the bed, shuffling backwards as you grab his hand, letting him pull you to meet him. 

He rests his body along the headboard and you crawl closer, stilling in front of him on your knees, unsure of your next move. Thankfully he does the thinking for you.

“Turn around.”

Without second guessing it, you turn around so that your back is to him, and impatiently, he pulls your hips back, reminding you of his strength so that you rest, slotted in between his extended legs, back flush against his chest.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself to melt into his touch, after all, it is familiar. Your head lays back in the crook of his neck and his lips ghost over your ear.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

His voice is barely above a whisper and sends a shiver down your spine. Without saying a word you lift up your arms and allow him to slide off the thin fabric. Having chosen to skip the bra this morning, your chest springs free to which he hums in approval. 

“Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Carefully, his fingers slide against your skin, trailing along the top of your breast before kneading into the soft skin. He emits a low growl in your ear as your back arches, chasing his touch.

Before he has the chance to ask, you lift your hips off the bed to slide your pants down, along with the lacey panties you had chosen this morning - such a shame he isn’t able to see them. Upon your eager initiative, Jake grants you a kiss to the exposed flesh of your neck, traveling up to whisper in your ear.

“Good girl.”

The proximity of his voice, the words he speaks, the rush of it all makes you utter a small moan that doesn’t go unnoticed. He seems to suck it in along with the small mark he makes just below your ear. You savor the feeling of his wet mouth on you, hoping it never leaves as his hand starts to slide down your stomach.

Your legs part for him as his hand reaches your mound, stilling there, garnering anticipation that makes you hold your breath, releasing it when he slides an inch further.

Finally, like the first gasp you take upon emerging from water, his fingers slide over your clit to your entrance to gather up the evidence of your arousal. A small moan is muffled through your gritted teeth as his fingers slide through you, he laughs against your ear. 

“All this for me?”

His breath tickles you and in an act that makes your head spin, he sucks gingerly on your earlobe while plunging his middle and ring finger deep inside you. The sudden pressure causes your head to push back even further as you arch away from him. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest as his fingers push in even deeper, testing the limits of your tight walls.

Whines and moans surpass your lips as his fingers start to curl inside you, pulling in and out as they tuck in. Have his fingers always been this thick? This heavy? Watching him play guitar they always seemed so nimble but now, now you aren’t so sure. 

The mere stretch of only two of them makes you wonder what it would feel like to have a third, a fourth or perhaps to have his cock instead. How it would feel stretching you out even further.

With his hand picking up a steady rhyme, his lips are back on you, biting and licking their way up to your ear to whisper sweet praises. He moves back to the skin of your shoulder, marking you in a way that may make you feel ashamed tomorrow, but today, all you feel is the pure ecstasy he’s supplying you with.

“How does it feel, baby?”

“Good.” You manage to choke out, hardley comprehending what he’s saying as his fingers jolt inside of you.

“Just keep on feeling, I'll get you there.”

He licks a stripe up to the skin behind your ear, circling it there as you push your head deeper into his touch. Your legs start to tremble, feeling as if the pleasure is too much while being not nearly enough. The slow build starts in your stomach and travels to your chest, tightening while your muscles contract, flowing to your toes as they gently curl and flex. 

“That’s it, just give it up baby.”

Your moans become sporadic and in mere seconds you feel almost there, except he slows his fingers down to which you whine in protest. His low gravely laughter hits the shell of your ear going straight to your core as he picks the pace back up, reminding you of how close you were.

Your hips arch away from him again but this time his hand travels to the flesh of your breast, squeezing and pulling you back to him. It almost hurts as his fingers pinch around your nipple, but at the same time, pain feels like a foreign concept entirely. You scoot back too, feeling his rock solid cock threatening to burst from his pants. You want to see it, want to touch it, taste it. However your thoughts are cut off when it finally explodes inside of you.

You can’t hear the sounds you’re making as your legs thrash against the sheets, head turning and arching as his fingers work away inside of you. It washes you over, seeming like it has no end, making you feel like this was the best decision you’ve ever made. 

However as soon as it starts, it slows, letting you still feel the pleasant buzz as your legs calm down, still twitching and jolting with every slowed movement of his strong fingers.

“Number 1.”

He hums in your ear. He sounds amused, like you're only a toy he gets the pleasure of playing with, however you have no problem with that if it means you get to feel like this.

“Can you give me another?” He poses it as a question, but you know it's really a demand.

His fingers don’t stop inside you, threatening to pull you into overstimulation as they continue to deliciously curl inside. You turn your face to his, whining against his lips which he presses into yours, for just a split second before pulling back - like he regrets the action, however you don’t have enough time to process it.

The fizzling orgasm picks back up, this time coming from deeper within, almost sizzling white hot, making your legs shake even harder. It hasn’t started yet, but it’s coming. Bubbling up slower so that you hope it can be over with, to save you from the burning anticipation. 

“Jake I- I can’t… it’s too much.”

“No it isn’t, just relax, feel it. You’re so close, let me have it, I want it.”

Fuck. The greed he so shamelessly emits. The greed for you, for your cum. It’s enough to make your mind go blank as you force yourself to just feel the feelings he’s giving you. 

He pushes his hand back so that the crook of his thumb rubs against your clit with every drag of his fingers. One of two swipes and you’re rocking your hips into his them, chasing the feeling as it washes you over again.

His name falls from your lips until it’s the only word you know, and in the far distance you can hear his own struggling moans of pleasure, his own ragged breathing as you tremble against him.

When it becomes too much, your legs shut around his hand, but his feet lock over your ankles, pulling your legs apart and overpowering them with his weight until you’re spread even wider while his hand finishes the job. 

Finally, before you would have fallen into the waters of bliss, drowned forever, his hand slows and fingers gently slide out of you. You watch them, glistening with the moonlight as they rest on your heaving stomach. 

Your legs are still open as they jolt and shudder. A single nip is given to your neck before a kiss is placed in its spot. “You did so good for me, so so good.”

A small smile makes its way across your face, although he can’t see it. You want to find the right words to let him know how good he can make you feel, better than anyone else, but your lack of words must do for now. You can’t help yourself as you turn your face to tuck into his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

His other hand pets your hair as you take a few deep breaths, grounding yourself. Before you’ve barely regained your footing, his hand is drifting lower, you can feel the wetness it leaves in its path before a single digit circles your swollen clit. You yelp in surprise as it presses in further. You bite the skin of his neck, listening and reveling in the hiss he makes that flows out of him like a soft whine. It’s delectable and reignites that flame inside you.

“Can you give me number 3?” He whispers to you, like he’s scared to wake you even though you’re far from asleep. You give a slow nod and pick your face up to watch his soaked fingers drag further down your slit until three of them tease at your entrance. 

You bite your bottom lip as they start to slide in, stretching you with every inch, stinging in the perfect way when he pushes them deeper in, relying on a little force to press them all the way in. A chokes out moan struggles out of you, filling the room in a way that should make you feel ashamed, but in this moment, you feel nothing of the sort. 

Once his fingers reach in as far as they'll go, he wastes no time in picking up a merciless pace. It's hard to even register the speed as they pump in and out, filling you up in the most satisfying way you’ve ever experienced.

His mouth is on you again. Hot. Wet. And strong as he licks and sucks with no real purpose, only to satisfy his needs through watching you like this.

“Cum for me Lovey, make me win, I wanna watch it come out of you, soak my hand even more. Come on, let me have it… fuck Lovey…”

It’s something about that stupid nickname falling from his lips so desperately as his dominant demeanor falters, showing you his true need for you. It’s not hard to give it up as it builds faster than before. It feels like it springs out of nowhere until you're screaming into the otherwise quiet room. You’ll surely get strange looks walking from his apartment in the morning, but it doesn't matter, nothing matters. You feel on fire, perfect, fulfilled.

His teeth drag along your skin as your head thrashes in the crook of his neck, legs threatening to break free from his grasp as he struggles to hold you there. His hand works relentlessly as you moan and whine while your hands twist into the sheets, toes curling, eyes rolling back as you lose sense of the world around you.

His other hand snakes down to tease over your sensitive clit as his teeth bite into the flesh of your neck. Your whole body is numb the second he touches you there. The white hot pleasure is enough to make you cease to exist. You’re just a body floating in a colorless void with sounds in the distance you aren’t sure you're making. 

His voice raises in volume until it breaks through your void, allowing you to hear him. He’s choking on his words through a cloud of lust, “Come on Lovey, you can give me one more, give me number 4.” It sounds like he’s never wanted something more in his life. Sounds like he needs it more than you do. His voice is quivering through painted breaths as his hands move even faster, working you with perfect opposition. 

His tongue darts out, licking into your ear before teeth come to bite around your earlobe, enough to make it sting, enough to make you want more. And then it burst out of you. The only sense - touch, the warmness seeping in from under you. Your legs threaten to break the bed as they break free from Jake’s grasp, clenching around his hands that show no sign of stopping. 

You feel it around your legs too, the warmness, the flow, the wetness. His breath is on your neck again, you can hear him moaning into your ear. 

“That’s it Lovey, good girl, good girl baby. Just give it up, come on, that’s it, soak me, yeah just like that…”

A few more seconds and he slows his movements down until your legs fall from around his hands. They lay defeated on the bed as he removes his fingers from you. Your chest is heaving up and down as you come back to earth to find a dark spot sitting on the bed beneath you.

When you realize what it is you cast your eyes away, hiding once more in the crook of his neck, but he sits you up taller to pull your face away.

“What's wrong y/n?”

You don’t answer, don't speak. There's nothing you could possibly say to him, that is until you meet his eyes, once dark with lust now turned sweet, and you can almost see them shine in the moonlight.

For some reason, in this moment, the air of seriousness breaks and your face erupts in laughter. It doesn’t take much for him to join in and soon you’re laughing together, just like old times, but it doesn't feel wrong. Not in the slightest.

“I’ve never done that before.” You finally speak up, looking back to the ruined sheets.

“Well that. Was easily the hottest fucking thing i’ve ever seen.” “Really?”

“Yes. Without a doubt.”

You stare at him for a moment, letting yourself blush and smile as he repeats the action. The sweet moment is short lived however when he turns it back to the bet.

“So if making you cum 3 times makes me the Sex God… then what does 4 times make me?”

“Oh shut the fuck up Jake.”

“Well I won the bet. You better uphold your side of the deal.”

You stare at him angrily before muttering under your breath, but of course that isn’t enough for him. His smile, despite being covered by shadows, lights up the room with his pride, flowing off of him like sex.

“You’re The Sex God.”

“What was that? Couldn’t really hear you.”

“You’re The fucking Sex God Jake, I swear to god if you make me say it one more time.”

“Okay thank you. I’m satisfied. By the way, do you want to put some clothes on?”

You look down, blushing once more at your exposed skin. Before you even have time to have any shred of decency to cover yourself up, he's lifting his shirt up and handing it to you. You thank him and slide it over your body before stealing a quick glance to his smooth chest. You quickly look back up to his smirking face, and roll your eyes once more.

“Oh uh by the way.. I know this isn’t the best timing but uhh I don’t have any extra sheets so we’re gonna have to sleep on the couch…”

.

.

.

.

Part 2

[henriettarhippo-hrh]

Ch.7 Forbidden Fruit 🍎

Title: Forbidden Fruit Rating: Explicit

Chapter 7

Excerpt:

“I take it you don’t actually need my help getting a book down,” Aziraphale said.

Muriel spun around, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "No! It was a ruse to get you alone," they declared triumphantly.

Aziraphale smiled with affection. “And a very good one it was.”

“Thanks!” Muriel chimed, practically vibrating with energy. They took a few quick steps towards Aziraphale, then paused to double-check the door again before closing the distance between them and leaning in conspiratorially. “So, Aziraphale. Guess what?”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, playing along. “What?”

Muriel beamed. “I think Anthony likes you!”

Aziraphale struggled to maintain his composure. “I’m sorry?” he squeaked.

Or read from the start

Shout out to the amazing @riverstyx125 for the beta!

@goodomensafterdark

[luvly-writer]

XOXO

Ch. 19 Every corner of this house is hunted

-•-

Author's note: There is just something so satisfying about writing angst while listening to sad music. I'll try to not break your hearts too much. Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphanthom @1lellykins @cangosleepnow @dreamspectrum @its-maemain @tamimemo @nightw-izhu @trasshy-artist @gabriiiiiiii @cassini-among-the-stars Masterlist:

-•-

"What?" Tim was taken a back by what I said, "What do you mean over, Y/n?"

I take a deep breath and exhale, it is a little shuddery. "This entire thing, Tim. Our ruse of being a couple, it is over. We can end it. We aren't tied to each other anymore. We won, right?" you say

Why does it feel like I'm losing then?

"I don't understand," Tim said, "We-"

"We were never a couple, I know, I know, it was just acting jaja! I know that, silly! I..Ok let me clear thing's up. We are done acting of course, you don't owe me anything anymore, you know. You are free too! I mean um, I um, ok give me a break" I panicked. Of course. Y/n don't be dumb. He knows you weren't a couple. He was just acting. He didn't see it the same way I did..

"Do you want to come inside so that we can talk about this better?" He asks concerned.

"No! It's okay, I...uh... have to go, so I..let's.. make this quick. I um, Tim...Thank you, for helping me. You didn't have to, now knowing you better, you could have gotten out of it and found a loophole easily but you still chose to go through with this..with me. Thank you, I have never had so much fun with someone in my entire life the way I did with you and that will always always mean something to me, you will always mean something to me...always, Timmy, and we won, Tim. We won. I am free and OH! So are you! I made sure to delete all the files on you know what and it is all clear, I can bring you my laptop and you can check I have nothing on it. You can finally say it, I am no longer holding something over your head, and we won, Timy, we did a great job, frankly we made a great team and-"

"Wait, wait wait wait, Wait! Y/n Vanderbilt is this you saying goodbye" he said incredulously, "Cause if it is, you are being a real shitty person right now and I know that's not who you are. I know you."

"I don't know," you say dejectedly, "I don't want it to be, Timmy. I appreciate your friendship way too much for me to say goodbye. I lo...I...I care so much about you and want you to be in my life, any way I can have you"

"Anyway?" Tim said, hope in his heart. The last few weeks have been fucking hell if he were to be honest. He missed her. He missed her scent on his clothes, on his sheets, on his apartment. He missed her touch, her caresses. her lips, her hands on his. He missed her so much that he thought he was dying. Dick and Jason like to call him lovesick because of how much he was moping. It's funny how two months can make someone become such a strong part of your routine. He missed talking with her before going to sleep. Whether it was by phone when she was in her apartment, or in person when she stayed at his, the point is he missed her voice. He had come to terms with how much he loved her after Christmas and was so happy to tell her because he thought it was reciprocated. The way she looked at him, their connection, their conversations, their inside jokes, their trips, the movie nights, it was real. He was a little grateful they hadn't had sex yet...he wasn't sure he would be able to recover if he ever felt her body on his and got to explore and adore every single part of her and then have it taken away. He felt it was real. It was real it had to be. All of that for her to be finally here, frankly he thought she was part of his imagination at first. He had been having so many dreams of her that he couldn't believe it was her at first until she started talking and shattering his heart...but she said she'd have him any way she could right. Ask away, Y/n, I am yours, utterly, completely, from head to toe, from heart to soul, mind and body...please ask.

"OH!" Fuck..He is thinking of a relationship and the way he opened his eyes is telling me he does NOT want it... "You know what I meant, Timmy, as friends! I mean if we can't fake date, why not stay friends. I haven't been able to connect with anyone else like this ever and I...well...you are my first friend who has been such you know a friend! Of course" She said nervously. Dig a hole and bury me in it. I don't want to deal with this..

"Of course, yeah, no no, I definitely got you. Cause you know, you are right, of course" He said sending her a tight smile. "It's alright, we are alright. You know we will always be alright." He says as he feels his chest tightened. Of course. Of fucking Course. She wants to be friends. "This won't ruin us, Angel, I'm still here for you"

Y/n smiled, "And I'm still here for you, you know"

Do you hear that? It is the sound of two hearts shattering. Y/n nods, holding her tears back and whatever is left of her dignity. Tim looks up, holding himself together enough to not show her. They both know the other person is not okay. But would they cross the line? She takes a step back and whispers one soft see you later and gets on the elevator. Tim watches the doors close and closes the door. He places his back on it and slides down, breaking down because fuck his heart hurts and he feels like he is suffocating. For once, he is not drowning himself in work, for once he won't turn to cases to numb the pain. For once, he just wants to let the pain out and feel it because God damn it, she is not his, and every fiber of himself is hers.

Y/n walks back to her car and once the door is closed, she just lets it out. All of the pain, all of the yearning. Her heart is entirely his and she will have to settle for just friends. What a time to be alive. The great Y/n Vanderbilt was brought down all because she liked a boy. Her driver had the decency to give her the privacy to mourn the feelings that do nothing but grow. She gets to her apartment, tears still rolling down the apple of her cheeks. Once inside, she drops all of her stuff and preps a hot bath. She soaked in it, crying until she felt numb. Tomorrow she was going to call the girls, she needed their company.

—•—

Week one:

It had been a week since Tim and her broke their agreement. Everyone close to them knew the truth of it already. They had both made a public statement that they had "broken up" but remained best friends. The public had shared their sentiments, after all, the most beloved couple in Gotham was done. There was no bad blood they assured from both parties. Clara and Satine stayed for a few days and let her mope for a little. Classes were starting soon and she needed to get it out of her system. Dick had assigned everyone to do a routine check-up on Tim. They were taking care of the cases, Wayne Enterprises, and patrol. They too were letting him get it out of his system.

Week two:

Classes had begun. Y/n, having something to distract herself began her routing as usual. Wake up early, eat breakfast, go to class, exercise, do homework, meet with contractors for her new gallery, call Mom, call Aurora, call Charlisse, call Grandma, call Dad, play tennis with Clara, have lunch with Satine, dinner with whoever invited that day. Everyone seemed to be on high alert on trying to take care of her, but she insisted she was fine.

Tim had gotten back to Wayne Business, still not cleared for patrol yet. His secretary, and elderly woman who used to work for Bruce, looked at him with sympathy, it was as if almost everyone did these days. He had been back on taking pills to get his sleep schedule checked again. He had moved to the manor for some time per Alfred's and Bruce's request so that they could make sure he was eating and getting better. He insisted he wasn't a child.

Week Three:

The first time, Tim and Y/n saw each other. She was exiting the same coffee place where they had met. They smiled at each other and made small talk. They never did small talk. They knew the most vulnerable points of each other, they never did small talk. Tim swore she gets more radiant every day. Y/n claims she never noticed how intoxicating his perfume was.

Week four:

They crashed into each other whilst Tim was going on a run through Gotham Central City Park. Satine had taken Y/n to do a yoga session in the park. This time the conversation was less small talk, a few jokes were exchanged even. Has her laughter always been such a melody? Have his eyes always been this blue?

Later in the week, he called her by mistake. They went 3 hours talking on the phone about everything and anything.

Week five:

They spent 4 days in a row talking on the phone at least once a day. He knew her schedule by heart and she knew his patrol route as if it was the back of her hand. Why does talking to you feel like a breathing air after being underwater for too long?

Is it because my lungs are filled by my love for you?

Week six:

They finally made plans to have lunch. The paparazzi caught them and everyone is speculating and hoping for them to get back together. Someone pointed out that the two of them haven't erased their pictures together. Neither have the guts to delete them, neither want to.

They have been seen together more often. Y/n's mother is convinced it is because they are meant to be. They call each other on the phone more often. Tim called her when she was having dinner with Satine and Clara. They both wiggled their eyebrows at her and teased her. She insists they are just friends and is just happy to have him back as her friend. "Friends, my ass" "SATINE!" "She's not wrong."

Why is is that when something happens, you are the first person I want to tell?

Week seven:

He crashed at her place after one rough patrol. They spent half of the night laughing. He was helping her with some of her homework. The way the light hit her eyes and illuminated her face stole his breath away. Have your lips always looked so soft?

She was so close to kissing him quite a few times. His smirk when was able to help her with something successfully made her dizzy.

I'm yours and I'm fine with that.

She finally visited the manor, everyone was elated to have her back. The entire day, everyone was witnessing how obvious and oblivious they were. When are you both coming to your senses and seeing that the love of your life is right in front of you?

That night, as he was walking her to her car, he mentioned that the Wayne's were having another charity ball. He invited her family. It would be their first official appearance as "exes who are now friends". That night, she said yes and kissed his cheek goodbye.

—•—

extras:

One thing Y/n always wanted for Tim was to take care of himself emotionally and that meant feeling his actual emotions instead of analyzing them and shutting them out. He honors her by doing exactly that

He literally worships the ground she walks on, don’t know if you guys have noticed.

Everyone is trying to get them to realize that they are meant to be but they don’t see it. Bruce and William even started to do business together so that Tim and Y/n would realize that they belong together. They are dumbasses cause they didn’t think it through (Tim is not focused on that and Y/n doesn’t want anything to do with the family business). They are dumb your honor, but they mean well.

Aurora, Charlisse, Grandma Margaret and her mom have been throwing hint after hint on how Tim is the perfect fit for her and there is no one else. Charlie and Aurora even got their husbands on board.

The batfam is trying to make a plan for them to get back together. Damian actually came up with the idea because as much as he denies it, he is a child who cares for his older brother and Tim has not been as witty as he normally is so it bothers Damian because they don’t have their normal banter:

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hello, lovely! Thank you so much for all that you do for fandom. You are amazing!

I thought for sure you already had a list for this request, but if you do, I'm overlooking it... Do you have any recommendations for fics where Sherlock is in a temper, and turns his angry, hurtful deductions on John. Maybe he means to, maybe he doesn't, but John ends up hurt all the same.

Thank you so much for any response, I really do appreciate all that you do! ❤️

Hey Nonny! *HUGS*

Naw, it's all good!! Ah, I think I have been asked in the past a similar question but I'm not finding the ask... Your best bet is to check out my Angry Sherlock lists:

Cranky Sherlock

Cranky Sherlock Pt. 2 | [MOBILE POST]

And this post here has a couple fics of raging Sherlock. OH! And this fic HAS the "nasty deductions" but it's all part of a ruse to trick Moriarty:

Sherlock Holmes Live by emilycare (E, 488,496 w., 73 Ch. || Theatre AU || Immersive Theatre, Romance, Slow Burn, Fake / Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Bisexual John, Demisexual Gay Sherlock, Alternating POV, Falling in Love, Eventual Case Fic, Soft Sherlock, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending, Pining John) –  Down on his luck John Watson answers an advert for a paid role in an experimental play. Enter William Scott with a most unusual proposition: help him test run a two person immersive experience, oh and by the way there is sex and romance involved.

Does anyone have any fics that they want to suggest for Nonny????

Hope you enjoy those lists, and I hope y'all have a great day!!

[milkypompon]

The Ruse Ch. 1

pairing: Nathan Bateman x CompanyRival!Reader

summary: Nathan wants to buy out your father's business, but the latter is skeptical of closing the deal with the BlueBook owner. The solution? He's going to seduce you.

content: 18+ mdni, thoughts about sex and kinks, enemies to luvrs

wc: 2.4k

a/n: As requested by a wonderful anon!! THANK YOU, I've been on a bald, billionare kick

beta read by the amazing and adorable... @lovable-liar

|| Next >

Ex Machina || Main Masterlist

“Look, you provided tech parts to BlueBook for almost a decade. Then, you up and left to start making phones, tablets, etcetera with my ideas. And I get that it’s a family-run business. It’s adorable, really.” Nathan sighs and clicks his pen, “But I have to say, in a lack of better terms, you’re running an absolute shitshow.”

Your father leans back on the swivel chair, only one of the twelve occupied because Nathan was pacing around the room, and the other board members weren’t privy to the conversation. 

He was fuming, but he knew that Nathan was right. 

The said shitshow was a repeated cycle — inevitable karma, if you will — that Nathan Bateman, a genius and billionaire, and your father, a now sorry excuse of an entrepreneur, experienced it to the highest degree.

But truthfully, the latter was hit the hardest.

In the past year, your father’s employees designed and crafted the high-end electronics at NovaTech. Over time, they used it as a stepping stone to build their own companies from the ground up, evolving into something worthy of praise. 

He couldn’t keep up with the competition, especially now with the brightest minds walking out.

“I’m doing you a favor by buying you out instead of watching you sink into bankruptcy.” Nathan continues, “Call it an act of a good Samaritan. Or, if you’re not into the hippie bullshit, just see it as me taking back what’s mine.”

Your father frowns. “I bet you’ve been bribing my employees to start working for you, eh?” He throws his hands up in frustration, struggling to find the right words. “It’s all part of a stupid, elaborate plan to drive me out of business!”

Nathan drops the pen, it clatters onto the glass table. He says in a low, steady voice, “Do you seriously think I have time to fuck around?”

He grumbles a “no” and swipes the buy-sell agreement from the manila folder.

“Look at you! Finally coming to your senses.” Nathan opens his arms, an agreeable and friendly stance, though it was anything but that.

“I’m just reading over it again, Bateman. Just making sure you’re not ripping me off.”

“God, it feels like I’m trying to get divorce papers signed.” He tucks the document back into the folder. “Think about it, man. You could throw a retirement party with the greens and have more than enough to tan your ass in Bora Bora.”

—

The next night was the BlueBook Ball, Nathan has a way with words, but it’s a glorified event for rubbing elbows, sickening niceties, and serving tooth-achingly sweet mixed drinks for the wives of big names in the tech field.

Nathan could play the nice guy for only so long. 

He’d been breathing down his own neck to get the documents signed. It was a one-way ticket to the clientele who turned him down because of their loyalty to your father.

In hindsight, he should’ve dealt with the meeting the morning after the gathering while your father was hungover and loose-lipped, ready to nod along with his plan for the buyout.

A perfect yesman. 

Nathan was a scientist first and foremost. 

Hypothetically, he knew it could’ve worked.

And he was a businessman second. 

Technically, he knew others played just as dirty.

Nathan ran a hand down his beard and reminded himself, Just one more night of persuading him and I’ll back down from NovaTech.

Can’t keep on wasting my time.

–

You’re accompanying your father tonight. He stated that it was a gateway to understanding the social aspect of running a business. 

Deep down, you knew it was a sloppy attempt to get you out of your studio and away from tinkering at the new prototypes. 

You begrudgingly agreed because at least it was a chance to abuse the open bar and cling to the side as a wallflower after snagging a few drinks.

But there was the issue of the black-tie attire. In other words, slipping on a tight dress paired with red-bottom stilettos could cause a twisted ankle if you took the wrong step. 

Or danced too hard.

Surely, Nathan Bateman wasn’t the type to throw it back and party like that, right? 

You shake your head, not in a professional setting. 

A faint buzz from the intercom beside your bed draws you out of the bathroom. 

“Hey, sweetie! The helicopter’s here to pick us up.” Your father reminds you.

You check the time on your phone and frown slightly, then press the button on the intercom to reply. “Dad, you said we weren’t leaving for another hour.” 

Another buzz.

“I’m sure they can send another one for you when you’re ready.” 

“Alright, fine. I’ll see you there.”

–

The helicopter ride wasn’t your first, given your father’s affinity for buying new and shiny things for you in hopes of proving that his late hours at the office during your childhood were all worth it—a weak compensation for being raised by maids and butlers.  

The green land and the snow-capped mountains stretching on for miles was a distraction from the thought of showing up without the person who was supposed to be your guide for the night. 

Everyone would be nameless for the time being or blurry faces you’d soon forget. 

You pull the aviation headset over your ears, a thought dawning over you. 

You don’t even know what the host looks like. 

He was surely an enigma, sitting on a fat pile of money and keeping his head down to work on god-knows-what in a facility you were headed to located in the middle of buttfuck Alaska.

Photographers rarely shot photos of him due to his constant refusal to participate in panels, and overall, there were few published sightings of him on the mainland. 

Even then, it was like he took down the photos.

Perks of being one of the wealthiest men alive, you suppose—a false sense of privacy.

The landing, as gentle as it could be from a helicopter, didn’t help to settle the churning at the pit of your stomach. 

A voice from the earpiece cracked to life, “Follow the path. You’ll know when you’re there.”

Before you could ask about the lack of people in sight or even the distant sound of music, the pilot answered your question.

You carefully step out, noticing the stupidly rolled-out red carpet on top of plants and fallen branches. The least he could've done for someone with more money than he could spend was pave a sidewalk.

This must be a sick metaphor. Struggling to walk in nature to find a haven built by a human.

Your ears perk up after about fifteen minutes of walking at the muffled sounds of talking. There were finally signs of life apart from trees and birds. 

No way could you keep walking the last stretch without a break, especially with your calves on fire. All you needed was a hard drink, a bench to sit on, and maybe even a bed for a quick nap. 

The tree stump nearby was the best you could do for now. You veer off the velvet path before your right heel sinks into a mud puddle.

“When I see that man…” you mumble under your breath. Then you were quickly reminded that you wouldn’t recognize him even if he were in front of you.  

There was no point in stopping now; you were late, and now, your right shoe was dirty. 

You trudge on for a few minutes. Standing before you was a wooden facility with glass panels reflecting the foliage. If you looked the right way, it almost blended in, but there were far too many edges and faces. 

A little too perfect. 

Squinting your eyes at the windows inside, you find the guests milling about, politely throwing their heads back to unfunny jokes. A few men were clean-shaven, while others had a trimmed beard. They all had their shoulders rolled back with a champagne flute in hand.

Any of them could be Nathan Bateman. 

Maybe he was close to being six feet under, white-haired with a few loose screws in his head. 

How else was it possible to survive in a place like this?

You surely wouldn’t. 

You unclasp your clutch to find your phone and shoot a text.

Dad, where are you?? 

The message flickered green…

No cell service

He was supposed to dumb down the guests for you tonight, teaching you the whosits and whatsits. But that was the least of your problems.

You’re sure that you’re going to be murdered without a witness as the sunset dips below the horizon. The branches cast shadows against the neighboring trees, a disturbing illusion of a dismembered figure.

You could already imagine the headlines. 

Daughter of NovaTech Gone Missing in Buttfuck Nowhere Alaska!

There was a light chuckle behind you, making you flinch. “Are you lost? There should be a map for a place like this, huh?”

You flick your head back quickly, and a stocky man with a piercing gaze set behind a pair of glasses stares back at you. But his eyes weren’t any less pointed, even with the obstruction. It was as if he knew things you didn’t, keeping the cards close to his chest. Or more like he knew something about yourself that you were only beginning to grasp.

For an audience like this one, he was dressed plainly. A crisp white shirt, taut across his chest, paired with black slacks. You had to give it to him for having the guts to throw the required attire out the window.

Maybe you could get along with this guy.

A non-conformist. 

It’s refreshing.

You offer him a smile. “Yeah, this asshole had us walk what felt like a mile to get here.”

Oh my fucking god… She doesn’t know who I am. The corner of Nathan’s lip twitches up by a degree.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I stripped halfway through the walk.” He plays along with a smirk.

“Explains the whole lax look?”

Nathan pauses for a moment. 

“... Sure. And you?” He cocks his head toward your muddy high heel tucked behind your other one in an attempt to hide it, a cute curtsy, almost. “Is that horse shit?”

“God, I hope not.” You grimace and look down.

Nathan could count on one hand the amount of people that didn’t see him as a potential business partner or an escape during nightly escapades. 

He mentally shakes his head. Maybe having contact with an actual human being was getting to him. Besides, he has to set things straight…

He takes a few careful steps near you as if placating you. When your eyes meet his again, and you don’t pull away, he places his hand on the small of your back.

You could feel the heat through your thin, silk dress. 

“C’mon, I’ve been here a handful of times. Let’s find you a bathroom.”

“And a map while you’re at it.”

He grins. “Like little fold-up ones you find at amusement parks?”

“It’s the only thing that would work around here. God forbid there’s cell service here or something.”

“Dude who owns this place must be an asshole to cut it off like that.”

“Right?!” You bob your head alongside him, grateful to have someone who didn’t feed into the billionaire's bullshittery. 

–

You hate to admit it, but the estate was straight out of Architectural Digest. 

Nathan steers you toward another building. It was a simple square, detached from the main facility, but still held the similar reflective panels, this time on all sides. 

“What’s this?” you prod, dodging a patch of dirt, “A fancy portapotty?”

He fishes out a slim silver card from his back pocket. 

“Is that what I think it is?”

How this man you just met knew the way around the place was beyond you, but you’d do anything at this point to remove the cakey, stickiness of the mud clinging to you.

“Yeah, a keycard. Every main guest gets one, and you haven’t?”

“No, I’m just my father’s plus one tonight, so I’m technically not listed.”

You don’t have to tell him.

Nathan knows exactly who you are.

In his defense, he greenlit the guests tonight by running a background check. He even went the extra mile by requiring them to walk through a metal detector. Especially after the experimental happenings of the Turing test, he wasn’t going to cast a blind eye to an android coming in to hack at him again. 

Or worse, a jealous competitor. 

And that’s exactly what you are. 

Well, not you, necessarily. 

But your father, so by extension, you were a part of whatever plan your father was stirring up. Or at least that’s what Nathan garnered. 

Nathan swore to himself that he wouldn’t act like a petty teenager. But he needs a safeguard to protect his company and decrease the chances of his clients or sponsors from pulling out after they found out about one of his androids going rogue. 

His ego was a liability. Sure enough, to be the cause of his death.

But it also brought him this far, along with his craftiness.

He’ll agree with a quip or two about your annoyance with the BlueBook owner, so you’ll lower your guard. Then boom, bam, thank you, ma’am — dial-up his sweet talk and ease in, persuading you that Nathan fucking Bateman is a trustworthy guy. 

You’ll put in a good word for him to your father. 

“You rarely go to these things, huh?” He tilts his head. 

“Is it that obvious? I usually stay in my studio, drafting up concepts.”

“You’re a designer,” he observes. 

“Something like that.” You shake your head. “But if my dad had a hand deeper into my life, I’d call the shots in NovaTech later down the line instead of playing with paint and wires, or at least that’s what he says.”

And there it was.

“A tortured artist and daddy’s girl,” he takes note.

“Well, how about you? I’m sure you got a sob story of the century to give yourself a buzzcut,” you tease back.

“Smartass.” Nathan presses the keycard against a wall. There was no indication of a slot to insert itself in or tap on—a sleek design hidden from plain view. 

The soft click of the door unlocking brings his attention back to you. “Go ahead, I’ll wait out here. Gotta have you looking your best when we get in there.”

A simple ruse from yours truly.

pt. 2 coming soon (lmk if you'd like to be tagged!)

I'd love to hear your thoughts and my inbox is always open for requests or if you want to chat!

[gloomforrestrunes]

if i remember correct ruse had eye scars in old design but doesnt now. is there a reason why you removed them? just curious

they're still partially/mostly blind if thats what you're wondering. the ritual was able to remove the scarring around their eyes, but cant make any difference to their eyesight itself.

[autumnmobile12]

So I gotta ask...

The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation Ch. 2, did anybody notice?

“Hey, I don’t do that anymore and I was never convicted.  A person of interest multiple times, arrested twice but the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence, was almost caught but managed to pin it on a rival thief.  Take that, Takami, and thank you, Endeavor, for falling for that ruse——”

“What now?”

“——and if you, Todoroki Touya, can possibly keep that foul mouth of yours shut, it’ll stay that way.”  Sako leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.  “And don’t diminish my previous transgressions by simply calling them petty theft.  I did pull off some pretty significant performances in my heyday.”

...

Hawks won't make an appearance in this fic, so it's a just a little easter egg showcasing that Compress was petty enough to pin a crime on a rival thief and was not sorry about it.

Honor among thieves is dead.

[koffeesfancy]

Sorrel Ch. 1 | Letitia Wright x Reader

Summary: An American in London, you have recently graduated university with no job prospects so you take up a gig at a Guyanese bakery and become enthralled in the world of a regular customer. (shy!reader) (nerdy!reader)

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 618

A/N: I'm going back and cleaning things up. The formatting has changed and of course, chapters progressively increase in length and quality as I get a feel for the story. I don't particulary like this first chapter, but too many people have already read it for me to completely overhaul it or triple its length lol.

It's not everyday one meets a celebrity, much less an Emmy nominee such as Letitia Wright. When Kerry offered to hook you up at her aunt's roti shop, she briefly mentioned a few of the people who happened to come through on the occasion- mainly Guyanese British influencers and entertainers seeking a taste of home. Letitia's name came up and was quickly forgotten. Your mind was stuck elsewhere in a land of bills and visa issues.

Yet now it seemed unreal. She stood by the entrance, picking up a few caramels and bottles of channa from the shelf. At about 5'5, she was a lot shorter than you'd have thought she was, but she looked effortlessly chic nonetheless.

Kerry's aunt Sharmin bustled out of the back. "Eh eh! Mi nuh see yuh in long long time!" she shouted, making her way from behind the counter to hug Letitia. You watched them embrace behind the lowered frames of your glasses, pretending to tie bags of pine tart. Letitia was beguiling. She wore a black linen button down that teased a glimpse of her clavicle with a matching pair of shorts and white sneakers. A pair of expensive looking shades sat atop her shaved head. The gold jewelry on her neck and hands glimmered in the light.

At some point you must have have given up the ruse of subtlety, because when they hugged again, Letitia looked up from Sharmin's back, across the shop, and straight into your eyes, a cheeky grin across her face.

You gathered your senses in enough time to feel some shame and play it off. As you busied yourself counting napkins, a figure stood in front of the register. "Hmmm, what shall we have today," you heard. Letitia leaned against the counter, her hands and chest inches away from you and her gaze turned upwards to the overhead menu.

You glanced around for help. Sharmin was already headed out the door for her errands and you knew you'd be alone for the next hour until Kerry's cousin clocked in.

"What do you like?" Letitia asked, her voice syrupy with a slight rasp. Her eyes were on you again. There was something so disarming about her presence and it made you a clammy, nervous mess. You stuttered through some vague, everything is good, sort of answer while your hands refused to find a normal resting position.

"Oh, are you American?" she exclaimed at the sound of your accent, her brown eyes lighting up in intrigue. "What're you doing in London?"

"Sch-school," you mutter. You silently prayed to die on the spot or for the ceiling concave to make this embarrassing moment end. Unfortunately for you, no one died and the roof remained intact. What's worse is that Letitia kept asking questions. "What are you studying?"

"Is that program at King's College?"

"Are you doing like a study abroad semester?"

"Where are you from in the U.S?"

"Wow, I was just there for a work thing! Have you seen the art museum downtown?"

The questions didn't stop and by the time she remembered what she came for, you'd already stopped breathing for a long time and filled your shoes with sweat.

"Hmmm, I'll take some tennis rolls and sorrel," she hummed. As you turned around to gather her order, you caught yourself thinking you saw her eyes slide down your body. You shook the thought out of your head and continued working. As if an Emmy-nominated actress would be interested in whatever pudge was hiding underneath your indie band tee.

Before leaving, Letitia stood at the door and asked another question across the room. "Oh, and what's your name, love?" If only the floor could swallow you whole.

Table of contents

Next chapter

[dance-in-the-morning-glow]

I started working on a new thing.

a sailor and a nightingale - ch. 1

“Governor Swann seems preoccupied tonight, wouldn’t you say?” Beckett’s tone was light, almost conversational. “No doubt his thoughts wander to matters of family. A father’s concern can be such a burden... when one’s only child is missing.”

Why did it feel like the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees all of a sudden? James could feel the calculating gaze upon him, watching him like a hawk, ready to pounce at any sign of weakness. His skin itched under the weight of his uniform. He resisted the urge to down the remainder of his wine in one gulp. Instead, he kept perfectly still and raised his chin just a bit.

Beckett continued, “It must be troubling, not knowing where she is... or what trouble she might be finding herself in. Perhaps you could ease his fatherly concerns?”

There it was again, that feeling like ice crawling up his spine. It was almost as if Beckett had read his thoughts. So it hadn’t been a coincidence that James had never found the chance to speak to Swann in private so far. Beckett wanted to witness how he would act in this situation – what he would say, what he would do. If he slipped up in front of his old friend.

***

James Norrington x OFC, fake dating (-courting lol), crack treated seriously, drama, angst

Summary: When James Norrington returns to Port Royal and gets promoted by Lord Beckett, he faces a stark ultimatum – any sign of misplaced loyalties, and he’s out. The natural thing to do in this position is pretending to court someone to keep Beckett convinced he’s in Port Royal to stay. At least, that’s what Beatrice Nightingale, an aspiring composer stifled by the rigid social norms, suggests. And who would be a more suitable candidate than Beatrice herself? Their ruse might not only benefit James in maintaining his post, but also help Beatrice with her own reasons for playing the game. Problem is, James and Bee aren’t the only ones with secrets – and sometimes, things aren’t as they seem.

Or: The author thought it a great idea to combine the fake dating trope and her very own PotC-version of a Hellfire Club. It’s a lot, I know.

[theemptyislost]

Another Ch 15 sneak while I edit and add more bs.

Her current state of disarray did not allow her to work past the creeping claustrophobia. Tav was sure there were other marks tattooed into her flesh: fingerprints, scratches and fang imprints. Physical stains of ownership, of which she was too drained to even attempt to register in full. All the places Raphael touched, or she scuffed in a row that further seemed to denote her as his – theirs. She muffled another shaky inhale. Determined to maintain this ruse of a trance. Her mind and emotions were wrecked. Her eyes closed while her imagination ran wild. The sudden shift against her almost made her flinch. Raphael turned to his side. Hand and blunt nails dragged along her arm until they tangled loosely in the waves at the back of her head.  A suspicious grumble that did not sound quite as demonic in his human form filled the space between them. Tav froze. Halting the stirring internal chaos before it could take root. Forcing her mind to accept her plea of silence. Tav waited until his breath evened out, heart rate steadied. She needed to distract herself. Her nerves demanded she move. With newfound determination, Tav gathered the strength needed to part from her cambion.

This one also has some semi angry RaphaelxHaarlep smut but there are a lot of moving plot points so no spoilers or sneaks for that yet. Need to see how long it goes, how long the chapter ends up and where I can splice and cut.

[fireolin]

The Wishing Hunt 𝕏𝕏 Ch 28 𝕏𝕏

I Need A Hero

This chapter: Gon is forced to spend time with Marigold, when he'd rather chase Killua. It appears that Marigold considers Gon a hero and wishes to impress Killua by proving themself one too.

Gon hadn’t the faintest interest in whatever ‘fae-style gathering’ Marigold had in mind. It was a rotten idea, insensitive to the dark mood that would surely prevail after disposing of the enchanter’s body, and if carried out, would exhaust anyone who attended when they needed to save their wits and strength to embark on a life-threatening journey. As for the ‘other pleasures’ to which Marigold alluded—put bluntly, no doubt they meant sex. Probably, they hoped to seduce Killua. In fact, this entire feast was a probable ruse for their attempt. Read on

Rating: E (mostly M) Hunter x Hunter fic, Fae Au Killugon, where your votes help direct the story.

About: Prince Gon Freecss and his reluctant bodyguard, Killua Zoldyck, embark on a fake relationship to save them from predatory fae advances as they travel into the realm of Aiai. Gon has no idea Killua is only pretending to be human and is actually on the run from his fae family. Neither of them understand why Gon, who, despite being gifted, is definitely human, develops a mysterious knack for fae magic along the way. A group of magically talented murderers are travelling in the same direction and will kill them on sight. Even if Killua and Gon survive, they must eventually part, so falling in love is out of the question. Or so they both say, at the start.

Slow burn. Unconfessed love. Jealousy and possessiveness. Deepening friendship and desire. Chapter 1 on Ao3

[fablesrose]

Ch 18 - The Maltese Falcon Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: The season finale! The team has to back track a little bit, but continue to take down the mayor and his partner to get justice for Bonanno.

Words: 6194

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

No one spoke as Eliot sped away from the waterfront. I couldn’t even allow myself to ponder on how my leg was pressed against his and I tried not to slide into his seat when he made a sharp turn. He finally pulled over under a bridge in the middle of the city, far enough away for us to get our bearings. 

“The mayor’s a federal witness? Federal?” Eliot demanded in disbelief.

“Every badge in a hundred miles is looking for us,” Tara said.

“Guys,” Hardison said as he looked through his phone, “They are ripping through Nate and Tara’s cover stories. All their financials are blown. So look, until I know what they know? No credit cards, no debit cards, no ATMs, nothing that can be traced back to us, okay? Cash in hand, only.”

“It just gets better and better,” Parker said sarcastically.

“So what can we do?” I asked. 

“Okay, the mayor’s not innocent,” Nate pointed out. “He cut a deal with the feds because he’s guilty and he’s got somebody working on the outside.”

“At the warehouse he admitted he has an accomplice,” Tara added. 

“Alright, do we scatter or stay?” Eliot asked Nate. 

“No, if we scatter we give the mayor and his partner time to cover their tracks to get away with murder, literally,” he replied.

“Well we can’t get anything done out here in the street, we need a hiding place,” Parker said. 

“Guys look, when I contacted the FBI team lead I put a worm in the operating system from the SIM card on her phone-”

“Hardison,” Eliot interrupted, “geek spiral.”

“We can listen to what they say,” Hardison summarized. 

He played a clip from his phone, the team lead saying that they weren’t taking the mayor to a safe house. Interpol wanted him somewhere off the FBI system, so they were taking him to the Governor Hotel.

“Okay, that’s it. That’s where we’re gonna hole up,” Nate said. 

“The Governor Hotel?” I asked, a bit skeptical, but I thought I could see his logic. 

“Yeah,” Nate said. 

“The hotel crawling with FBI?” Tara clarified incredulously.

“FBI and Interpol,” Eliot added. 

“It’s the one place in Boston they won’t be looking for us,” Nate said. “Come on, we just gotta get there first.”

We did manage to arrive at the hotel before all of the feds showed up. We sent Tara, Eliot, and Parker into the hotel to sneak into a room. When we finally followed, Tara opened the door wrapped in a towel, clothes in hand. 

“Did I, uh, miss something?” Nate asked, voicing my own thoughts. 

“She was naked,” Parker said matter of factly.

Hardison didn’t acknowledge that, simply getting on his computer to address the room situation. “In-room check out. This means that I have access to the hotel’s billing computers. It’s a big old backdoor into every hotel room in America.” He then went on and made it so we had an additional week and a half on the reservation for the room. It was all under the name of the previous guest who apparently, watched a lot of adult content while in the room. 

“Hardison, I need background on all the mayor’s business partners and all his little shell companies,” Nate said, taking a sip of some alcohol that was left in the room.

“You want background checks on this? A TV?” Hardison asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’ll have Super Mario and Dig Dug get right on that.”

“Guns – anything to do with guns,” Nate then walked out of the room. 

Eliot started to follow, “Alright, I’m gonna go get some keys made. I’m going to the gym. Make sure I can charge stuff on the room.”

Parker headed down to the lobby to snag someone else’s keycard for Eliot’s ruse of going to the gym and the key to his room not working anymore. It seemed to work and he got the keycard reformatted for our room when Nate told Hardison, Tara, and I to stay in the hotel room and for Eliot and Parker to meet him outside. 

“Why?” Hardison asked. 

“Sterling,” Nate answered gravely.

“Uh oh,” I said. 

Once the others met outside, Nate asked Hardison to go over what he had found on the mayor’s business partners. 

“Alright guys, this is Tony Kadjic,” Hardison began. “He started out as a smuggler in Albania. He left a lot of competitors in shallow graves. He’s been indicted for murder eight times in four different countries with zero convictions.”

“His shipping company looks semi legit,” Tara said. “It has ties to countries in the ‘stans’ and Central America. He’s got a big batch of government contracts including for US security forces.”

“Why do we care about him?” Nate asked. 

“Cuz he’s big on the surplus weapons market,” I answered. 

Eliot puffed an amused scoff, “That’s just a polite way of saying arms dealer.”

“His specialty is buying cheap guns from third world countries and reselling them,” Tara said. 

“Okay, well, uh, this tracks,” Nate said. “So the mayor grifts the 9/11 money that’s meant to improve security at the ports. That along with crooked cops makes the Bellbridge ports a perfect place for Tony Kadjic to run his guns in and out of the country.”

“Interpol must be chasing down the gun running,” Parker concluded. 

“Don’t worry about Sterling,” Nate assured. 

“Did you just say don’t worry about Sterling?” Eliot asked. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about Sterling,” Nate repeated. “What? You don’t think I can beat Sterling?”

“I think in the last six months I’ve heard you talk about beating the Triads, beating the Russians, alright?” Eliot reminded him. “Maggie’s boyfriend? Huh, how’d that work out? We all said that meet was a bad idea. But now you’ve got a taste of taking down this mayor, and you can’t resist.”

“You wanna walk away? Walk away,” Nate said. 

“I’m not walking away, that’s not my job. My job is to get your back, and Nate?” Eliot said seriously, “I’m gonna do it, all the way down. But I need you to do your job.”

“And what’s that?”

“Be Nathan Ford!” Parker cut in. “Be the person we came back for.”

There were two beats of silence where Nate took in what they were saying before he spoke again, “Listen, guys, I’m trying to figure out why a group of very rich, very powerful men are trying to take out a good, decent, cop. Now are you going to stick with me on this? Is that enough?”

Eliot gave a quiet, “yeah.”

Hardison looked at Tara and then me. 

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” I pointed out. 

“Us too,” Hardison said for himself and Tara. 

“Good,” Nate said. “Tony Kadjic is the one who pulled the trigger, I wanna know exactly what he’s up to and who he is.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Hardison asked with a smile. 

“Let’s go steal a mayor.”

The plan was pretty simple, by some standards. I dressed up as a hotel maid, the costume a little too on the nose in my opinion. With the mayor consistently ordering as many mini bottles of alcohol he could get his hands on, it was easy to give him one that was drugged, knocking him out quickly. The guards at the door wouldn’t let me in the room, but I handed them off to the mayor himself when he opened the door. I used a master key from the maid cart I had grabbed to enter the room next to the mayor’s. One that happened to have a conjoining door. 

Unfortunately Sterling was coming back sooner than anticipated, so it was Nate’s job to stall him, without being seen. With the sound of Nate’s heavy breathing and the routine sound of the elevator dinging, it didn’t take long to figure out what he decided to do. I don’t think it was pleasant for either of them. 

Parker, Hardison, and Tara dropped down to the room I stepped into from the roof using Parker’s equipment. Parker quickly moved to pick the door into the mayor’s room. Once we walked in to find the Mayor passed out on his bed, we took pictures of the room in all of its mess to replicate it. We were able to situate him into the lower compartment of my maid cart so that I smuggled him out the door, right under the nose of the agents at the door. The cart was significantly heavier and harder to push, but the guards didn’t seem suspicious of it. 

Eliot played the red herring by rolling the largest trunk we could find, one that could possibly hold a whole person in it, by Sterling, placing it in a taxi to make him believe we had moved the mayor off the premises. 

And that’s how we kidnapped the mayor. Now to get information out of him. 

The first step was to convince him we meant business and that there was no one there to protect him. When the mayor was panicking about the FBI agents that were supposed to be at the door, Eliot and I’s small role came in. 

“You ready for this?” Eliot asked me.

I rolled my head side to side to loosen my neck and adjusted the maid outfit I was still wearing, “yup, just play dead. And you try not to drop me.”

“I’d never drop you sweetheart,” Eliot said with a smile and a wink. He then squatted down, allowing me to lean over his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around my legs and the other grabbed my wrist, pulling it to his other side to keep me on his shoulder. 

I went limp as he stood and slightly kicked the hotel room door open, effectively shutting up the mayor. 

“Did you have to?” Nate asked. “She saw our faces,” Eliot said. 

“Okay,” Nate relented easily. “Put her in the tub with the others.”

Eliot put me down gently in the bathroom to which I gave him a thumbs up to refrain from speaking and alerting the mayor I was, in fact, alive. 

Nate was now playing a more serious and powerful role for the mayor. He was the boss, and not too happy with being turned over to the feds. What might make up for it and not get the mayor killed would be a cut in and meeting with Tony Kadjic. Every answer that Nate didn’t like, Hardison played a goon that would go to strangle the mayor with a coarse rope. 

When we got all the information we needed from him, Eliot went out and knocked him out again, this time with his fist. 

Tara and Parker then came in announcing that the FBI had cleared the building and I exited the bathroom to join the others. 

“So we kidnapped a mayor,” Tara said, “I hope you realize that even if we pull this off, we’re gonna leave the city with nothing but the clothes on our backs.”

I thought it over and determined that I was okay with that. I could buy almost everything I needed and anything I thought I couldn’t live without for sentimental reasons I was sure I could get Cora to hold onto for me. Anything else I could figure out. 

“Yeah, okay, uh, Kadjic has a shipment at the docks,” Nate moved on quickly, “Hardison, stash the mayor somewhere else and uh, see what you can dig up.”

“If I can access the security cameras at the port, maybe with facial recognition I can find Kadjic,” Hardison said. 

Nate sighed, “Yeah. Eliot, Parker, Tara, y/n, do a physical sweep of the docks.” He then nodded and walked straight out of the hotel room. 

“Where you going?” Eliot asked him before he shut the door. Eliot looked at Tara and I, “Where’s he going?”

I looked at where he exited, I couldn’t help but shake my head. I didn’t know, but I hoped it wasn’t where I thought. Or somewhere stupid in general. 

Tara stepped out for a moment before we went to the docks as directed. Once we got there we split up into pairs, Eliot and Parker, and Tara and I. We each had a list of ships that were anchored there and went to work to try and find the ship with Tony Kadjic’s weapons. We looked at each other for a moment before heading in opposite directions. This was gonna be a job, that’s for sure. 

Tara and I took the strategy of checking two ships at a time, one for each of us, not straying very far from each other so we could check in after each one. We had gotten through about ten when Tara suggested we check each one together and just move through each ship quicker. It didn’t take much longer before she stopped me completely.

She obviously took out her ear bud and placed it in her pocket. 

I hesitantly followed her lead and removed my own, “yes?”

“So, we need to talk,” Tara said.

“About?”

“About you and Eliot.”

I was brushing my thumb over the edge of the stack of pages I was holding onto, but at her words, everything stopped, “What? What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

I could feel the heat rushing to my head, surely causing my face to turn red. I immediately broke my eye contact with her and looked down at the list of ships. I found the next one on the list and tried to walk past her, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

She caught my arm and placed me in front of her again, “Nope, not doing that. I need you to be honest or else this is probably gonna blow up in the future.”

I sighed, “Isn’t lying like your whole thing?”

“Not relevant right now, and plus I’m always honest about my feelings and what I think when I’m not grifting,” she replied. 

“Look, like I said, there isn’t anything to talk about. Nothing is going on, probably nothing will ever happen-”

“You like him though. You have feelings for him beyond ‘coworker and friend’ before you give me that crap.”

I simply stared over her shoulder into the distance, I couldn’t decide if I was trying or not to say something in response. 

“I can see the way you look at him and act around him. It’s different than the rest of the team.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, I’m just good at reading people. I doubt anyone else has noticed.”

I finally looked at her again, “Look, Tara, I have been trying not to acknowledge it or make it a reality for a while now. Eliot and I met on a con, when I wasn’t in on it. We flirted, I thought we hit it off, but it didn’t go anywhere. Probably because Nate told him off for it, even if I’m a big girl and can make my own decisions. Still, Eliot still has some respect or duty to Nate, so… whatever.” I sighed before continuing, “Despite that, you’ve seen Eliot. He flirts with any pretty girl that crosses his vision for more than ten seconds. I didn’t miss the look he had when it was mentioned that you were naked, Tara.”

Tara gave a little shrug, but allowed me to continue. 

“That first con didn’t mean anything, I said that in Ukraine to Maggie, it’s true for you too. So no matter my feelings, it needs to stay platonic, because I know that’s all it will end up being. I don’t really belong in this world, no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I may want to. I’m sure it will end eventually. All of it.” I took a deep breath to keep myself from falling over an emotional ledge, “So I’m not allowing or acknowledging my feelings to become anything more. I will enjoy the time I have with the team. With Eliot. Even if nothing comes of it. I have to keep telling myself that, so maybe I’ll believe it.”

I stopped talking, not wanting to say more. Not wanting to fall over the edge. Tara gave me a moment before speaking. 

“That’s a good start, but in order for this to not blow up eventually, you need to acknowledge it so you can do something about it. Whether that be to jump his bones or get over it,” she finally said with a look on her face that told me this was not negotiable. 

“Fine,” I said, clenching my hands to release some of the pressure building inside of me, “Yes, I like Eliot. I like him more than a friend. I wish something would happen between us. He’s handsome, and strong, and so protective. And he's talented in more ways than I anticipated.”  My rambling trailed off as I realized, “He’s… He’s everything…” A rush of feelings was churning inside of me at the admission. I wasn’t sure if I could handle much more. “I don’t know how I’m gonna face him anymore. His touch already lingers on my skin and I can’t get him out of my head when he sneaks in.”

“That was a little bit more than I was wanting,” Tara said, “But it was good.”

“You asked for it,” I batted back, “Now I feel like shit.”

She laughed, “Now that you’ve released those feelings, you’ll feel better, promise.”

“Why are you treating me like a high schooler who has their first real crush?”

“Because you are kind of acting like one.”

“Go to hell Tara,” I said with only moderate conviction. I jumped around and shook my limbs trying to release the emotional energy and tension that had built in my body. “Okay, this job isn’t over. My feelings don’t matter, let’s go.”

Tara stopped me before I started walking again.

“What?” I snapped, “I did what you wanted, can we leave it alone?”

“Your feelings do matter, y/n. Just so you know.” She then walked in the direction of the ships and started searching again, not waiting for a response for me. 

“I hate this,” I said to myself. I slipped my earbud back into my ear and looked at the list. “Next ship.”

After what seemed like forever, we met back up with Eliot and Parker. You would think that this meant we were close to the end, but no. We still had over a hundred ships at port that we hadn’t searched. 

“This is hopeless,” Tara said as we fell into step with Parker. 

“And it smells,” Parker added. 

“Yess,” Tara and I said in sync. 

“Like old clown shoes,” Tara described. 

“Briney despair,” Parker added. 

“Rusty defeat,” I countered.

“Maybe Hardison…” Eliot began but trailed off. Before stopping us with a ‘hey.��

“What?”

“He’s Italian,” Eliot said, digging into his jacket pocket and pulling out the page from Bonanno’s notebook. “Bonanno’s Italian.” Eliot after looking at the words ‘Maltese Falcon,’ he walked off towards a ship. 

“So now he’s walking off?” Tara asked in disbelief. 

“It rubs off on people,” I said before following Eliot. 

“Yup,” Parker agreed. 

“Sparky, slow down,” Tara called after him. 

When we finally caught up and looked at the ship’s name, there it was. ‘Il Falcone Maltese,’ the Maltese Falcon in what I assumed was Italian. 

“Well that was easy,” I joked. The others gave me a glare so I backtracked, “I’m kidding, you cracked the code Sherlock.” I leaned to nudge Eliot with my shoulder, trying not to overthink any interaction I had with him after my talk with Tara. Everything seemed to be becoming real after the talk, something I feared would happen. I tried to feel resentment or anger at her for forcing my hand, but I had to admit, I felt a bit more free. And the feelings I felt were fuller somehow.

“Hey guys,” Hardison said through comms, “Head over to Nate’s apartment. He says he has a plan.”

“Is it safe?” I asked, already heading back to the car. 

“He said it is,” Hardison replied.  

“Okay, let’s hear it,” I said once we got back to the apartment. The ride back was quiet and tense, but if Nate said he had a plan…

He outlined the plan for us that mostly consisted of Nate posing to strike a business deal with Kadjic and ultimately pinning him with the weapons and the shooting. 

“Is it possible?” Nate asked solemnly once he relayed what he wanted done to complete the plan. 

“I’ll need Eliot,” Hardison answered, “and to buy some new supplies, and maybe five hours. Plus I need to hack into the cargo ship and system at the docks.”

“What about the money?” Nate asked. 

“It’s on short notice, but…”

“Use my accounts.”

“That’ll clean you out,” Hardison pointed out. Something didn’t seem right here. 

“Use them,” Nate insisted. “And what about you guys, on your end?” He was referring to Tara and Parker breaking into the FBI Boston field office to deal with evidence.

“I don’t think we can make it in through the main entrance,” Parker answered. “So I think we need to go up and make it down from the roof.”

“But you can do it.”

“Sure, it’s not our part of the scam that’s impossible,” Tara said. 

“No, it’s everything else,” Parker added. 

“Yeah, definitely that, but our part, no,” Tara emphasized. 

“Alright, well, I’m gonna set up the meet with Kadjic,” Nate said, not addressing the ‘impossible’ parts of the scam. 

“No, no,” Eliot tried to stop him, “I said I know where the weapons are. I don’t know if Kadjic’s gonna be there.”

“Well, we’re gonna have to lure Kadjic to the weapons,” Nate said as a solution as if it were easy. “Our whole plan depends on our ability to confirm Kadjic and the weapons being in the same place at the same time.”

Before we knew it, it was go time. Hardison and I moved the mayor into a storage container on the docks, while he was knocked out of course so he wouldn’t know where he was. The container had plastic hanging around with electric lamps to give a very ominous look. To top it off, Hardison was in his mob suit, and I had dressed in an all black, long sleeve and pant ensemble myself to match. 

“Everybody ready?” Nate asked as we were finishing setting up Hardison’s laptop and Nate and Eliot approached the dock. 

“Yeah, but remember, once you’re on that ship, all that metal’s gonna mess with reception,” Hardison answered. “Won’t be able to reach you once you’re below decks.”

Tara and Parker indicated they were ready over comms as well. 

We listened in as Nate and Eliot boarded the ship and made their presence known when Eliot beat up some guards. Nate mediated with the armed guards by asking for a meeting with Kadjic, a bag of cash in hand. It seemed to work as nobody got shot or was injured, but I wasn’t hopeful about the situation when Eliot mentioned he was counting how many guys with guns there were. Apparently there were a lot. 

In the storage container, I sat away from Culpepper to have less chance of him recognizing me from my stint as a dead maid, and monitored the computer. Hardison adopted a thick Irish accent to threaten the mayor, asking him to act scared when calling Kadjic. Hardison had a drill with a scary looking bit on it for good measure. The mayor agreed quite readily to comply. 

He called and begged Kadjic to do whatever we wanted, citing what we supposedly did to his FBI handlers before Hardison revved the drill again and cut the line with Culpepper’s scream. It sounded very convincing to me, especially since the mayor was still screaming behind me. 

Nate used the call to his advantage, building up a more threatening reputation and the now open opportunity to be Kadjic’s business partner. Kadjic was at least interested in the proposition, enough that he led them around the ship it sounded like, and eventually below deck. 

Meanwhile, Parker and Tara were able to gain access to the field office, their database, and physical evidence. I watched as Hardison took his computer back to transfer the digital evidence in the FBI’s database, deleting the original files. Once that was completed and he relayed to Tara what case file to destroy the physical evidence in, he put his system back to work on facial recognition around the dock. After a while, the computer alerted us, saying that it had a match. 

Hardison and I looked to see what the match was and a security photo of the docks popped up on the screen. What we weren’t expecting was for Tara to be in the shot with Kadjic. The shot was taken early this morning. The two of us shared a look. 

“That can’t be good,” I said.

Hardison shook his head as he put his finger in his ear, trying to get a hold of Parker. When he couldn’t, he dashed out between the plastic and out of the unit to try and get a better signal. I followed, leaving the mayor tied up in the unit. Once we were outside Hardison was able to talk to Parker. Hardison relayed what we found to her and took a sigh of relief that it seemed she was okay. Once she had all the information, she could handle herself. 

What really startled me was the ship nearby starting its engine. The ship was Il Falcone Maltese, the ship where Nate, Eliot, and Kadjic were. The ship that wasn’t supposed to be going anywhere, especially with them on it. 

I immediately started running to the ship. 

“Where are you going?” Hardison yelled after me. 

“To do something that’s probably stupid!” I called back. There was a large pipe wrench on a bench that I picked up along the way. “But I’m pretty sure we should stop that ship!”

I heard Hardison follow me as we scampered up to the ship’s deck and dropped down to the lower levels, finally finding the engine room. I looked at Hardison who had grabbed a large tool of his own along the way. 

“Let’s get to work.”

We started pulling and twisting knobs left and right, hacking away at electronics and pipes with our heavy tools until everything was flashing red lights or leaking something. We heard the engine start to sputter and shut down. 

Hardison and I shared a smug smile and a fist bump, “Nice work.” That was until there were some noises coming from around the corner. We walked around to see Eliot start to climb some stairs to one of the upper levels. There was blood on his face and it looked like he was looking to spill someone else’s. 

“Hey,” Hardison called to stop him from running off, “took you long enough.”

“What?” Eliot asked, walking towards us instead. An armed guard jumped around a corner next to Eliot and it took less than two seconds and three hits to have him on the ground and out of commission. “One,” Eliot said to himself once the guard was down. 

“What?” Hardison asked. 

“Wha- where’s Nate?” Eliot changed the subject. 

“I don’t know, man. All this metal is messing with the signal,” Hardison replied. 

The sound of heeled shoes came from a neighboring corridor and caught our attention as a familiar looking woman walked by. I dashed around to get a better look with the boys following after me. We stopped when we were behind her. 

“Sophie?” We asked all at once. 

She looked over her shoulder at us and echoed Hardison, “took you long enough. Come on,” she then walked off in the direction she was previously heading, expecting us to follow. 

We shared a quick look of confusion before following. While we navigated the ship Sophie relayed how Tara told her everything and how she met with Kadjic to get Sophie a meeting in order to be here. That explained the security photo from this morning and why she was here.  Eventually we found a room that had a single armed guard. Eliot quickly knocked him out, busting open the door in the process and finding Nate sitting there handcuffed. 

“Zero,” Eliot said before grabbing the handcuff key and freeing Nate. 

Hardison, Eliot, and I left the area and waited for Sophie and Nate to have a short conversation. In all the previous commotion, I now had a good look at Eliot. He had his hair in a half updo, keeping it out of his face. Blood had begun to dry on his temple and from his nose. My heart skipped a beat in a way I couldn’t deny anymore that I cared for him. More than I should. I gently pulled a corner of my sleeve up and approached him to clean him up a bit. I raised my hand steadily, making my intentions obvious when Eliot grabbed my wrist gently. 

“Don’t get your shirt dirty for me, it’s fine,” he said softly. 

“It’s black, it’ll be fine. Please?” I whispered, my eyes tracing where a bead of sweat dropped to his brow. He finally released me and affirmed with a nod. 

I started at his temple, brushing away the newer blood to luckily see that it had stopped bleeding with the exception of a small bead, just enough to form a scab. The rest had dried to his skin despite the sweat, but I was able to get it off with a few gentle scratches of my nail. I moved on to the area under his nose where a single track of blood had trailed to his lip. This brushed away a bit more easily. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment of time with my thumb brushing over his top lip to remove his own blood how much I wanted to kiss him. The skin of my fingers brushing his face so intimately became too much and I stepped away when I was sure the blood was gone. 

He whispered, “Thank you, sweetheart.”

I didn’t have time to reply before Sophie and Nate finally caught up to us. They led the way outside where we saw the mayor, still in his hotel bathrobe, enter the bridge of the ship, coincidentally, where Kadjic was as well, trying to get the ship underway. Hardison and Eliot went to lock them in one side and Nate and Sophie went to lock the other, trapping them there with no escape. I went around the corner to wave down Parker and Tara who were on their way. 

The four of them came up behind me once Kadjic and Culpepper were trapped just as Parker and Tara climbed the stairs where I was. 

Parker almost immediately hugged Sophie. 

“Oh,” Sophie said at the gesture, “Parker, touching.”

“Kinda, yeah,” Parker replied a bit bashfully. 

There were sirens in the distance, coming to arrest Kadjic and Culpepper with any luck. 

“Listen, I hate to cut goodbyes short,” Tara said at the sound, “but they're playing my song.”

“Keep out of trouble,” Eliot said. 

“Or if you wanna get in trouble again,” Hardison said with a smirk. 

Tara smiled at the implication. 

“Is this why…?” I asked, wondering about the earlier conversation we had. 

She shrugged, “Maybe.” She then looked at Sophie, “So we’re…”

“Oh, we’re even,” Sophie responded. “Absolutely.”

Tara nodded and with a pat on Nate’s arm, started to dash around the back side of the ship. 

“Hey,” Nate stopped her, “Are you gonna be alright on your own?”

Tara smiled, “What do you think?” She then continued on her path. 

We then looked at each other, wondering what to do. 

“There’s not that many ways out of here,” Eliot said after an assessing look around. 

“Eliot, when I arrange a rescue, I do it properly,” Sophie said with a smug expression. 

We all looked above as a helicopter touched down on the docks next to the ship. 

“Indeed you do,” I said following after Eliot and Parker down towards the getaway vehicle. 

Just when we were going to climb off the deck of the ship, Sterling popped out of nowhere, clapping his hands and a “Bravo!”

FBI agents then surrounded us, stopping us in our tracks. Of course it wasn’t a clean getaway. 

“So,” Sterling said, approaching us. “Where is Tony Kadjic?”

“He’s locked in the bridge,” Nate replied from behind us, but moved in front of us to talk directly to Sterling. “And the guns are stored in boxes in the hold.”

“I see you kept your end of the deal, Nate,” Sterling said.

“What?” I asked softly, looking at Nate, trying to figure out what was going on.

Nate didn’t respond, he just walked slowly to the side and handcuffed himself to the rail. “Yeah Sterling, we have a deal.”

“Nate, what are you doing?” Hardison asked this time, but still, Nate didn’t answer. 

“Quit messing around,” Sterling said. “In thirty seconds there will be another dozen guns on the deck.”

I looked around, the team was edging closer to the rail, Nate, and ultimately freedom in the helicopter. Eliot was specifically keeping his eyes on the armed FBI agents. I was unsure what to do. I kept close to the team, but it almost felt like my feet were glued to the deck. 

“Do you have any idea what’s going on right now, Sterling?” Nate asked. “There’s a fire in the FBI evidence room,” he said, referring to the tampering Tara and Parker did earlier, planting an ignition system to destroy evidence. “And Hardison wiped the servers of all the evidence.”

“Where are you going with this?” Sterling asked. 

“I destroyed all the evidence the FBI had on Culpepper and Kadjic. You have no photos, no tapes, you don’t have anything. You don’t have a case on anybody, unless you arrest me, and only me,” Nate explained. My eyes were glued on him, explaining his case to Sterling, and us, all unaware of what he was planning. “I agree to turn state’s evidence. And I testify to what Kadjic told me, how he put the hit on Bonanno. Hell, I’ll even give you Bonanno’s evidence against the gun running!”

“Nate,” Eliot said steadily, “I can take these guys.”

“It’s just ten more yards to the chopper, man,” Hardison said. 

“Listen, guys,” Nate said, “I got you into this mess, this is the only way to get you out.” He turned to Sterling, “And I can feel you thinking Sterling, and don’t, don’t bother! And if you touch one of them, the deal is off. Nevins loses two years of work, and your first case with Interpol.”

“So, you’re my case, or I have no case,” Sterling summarized. 

“Exactly.”

There was a slight upturn to Sterling’s lips that finally dropped, “Fine, we’ll call it a draw then.”

Nevins, the FBI agent in charge, protested, “No, we do not take this deal!”

Sterling forcibly lowered her gun, “Take one more step, and I’ll shoot you myself.”

The agents and Sterling backed off, leaving us somewhat alone. 

“Come here,” Nate said to us, “You guys are the most honorable people I’ve ever met in my life. You’ve become my family,” he looked at me, “Our only family.I won’t forget that.” There was a pause before he said to Eliot, “Now get them on the chopper. Now!”

Eliot took a moment to nudge Parker and Hardison towards the stairs to get off the ship. I wouldn’t move, raising my hand at Eliot to give me a moment. He allowed it, standing a bit off to the side. 

“I’m sorry, Birdie,” Nate said, his face sorrowful, but determined. 

“I know,” I said, surprising myself with how calm I was, at least on the outside. “But I’m still angry.”

“At me?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said. I paused before taking the two steps forward it took to close the gap between us, “But I know I would regret it if I didn’t hug you right now.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, knowing this was a different kind of goodbye. I felt a tear roll down my cheek and onto his coat before I released him. I took a step back, but couldn’t find it in myself to keep going. 

I think Nate could see that, “Goodbye Birdie.” 

I just nodded. 

Nate looked over my shoulder to Eliot, “Get her out of here, please.”

I felt one of Eliot’s arms wrap around my waist, the other on my arm to guide me away. He whispered a “come on, sweetheart,” as we walked down the stairs, leaving Nate and Sophie on the deck of the ship. We passed Sterling on the way, and Eliot told him coolly to watch his back, a stark contrast to the way he gently led me towards the helicopter. He helped me to my seat and waited to help Sophie in as well before we took off. 

To freedom I suppose.

A/n: Hey guys! So glad you were able to stick it out until now. I'm going to be taking a little bit of hiatus between seasons 2 and 3. I have finals these next two weeks and want to plan out this next season a bit more, hopefully getting a few episodes written before I start posting again. Thank you so much for reading so far, can't wait for next season, where stuff might start moving!! Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged!

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