#could those appointments have been emails? maybe???? but no one ever said ‘well let me look into this and email you’

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 5 <-

Part 6

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Smut, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Fingering, Dry humping, mentions of sex, pet names

Word Count: 3k

Note: Yea… What can I say? Lee Know was my first Kpop Crush, so I really put my soul into this. So hear me out: I thought since your feedback is incredible, I wanted to give you something back. If you want to you can write suggestions/requests in the comments or dm me about what you'd like to read in the parts. If I like it I will think of something and include it in the story! So feel free to tell me your dirty (or sweet) little fantasies xD

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

"I finally want to see you dance live!", grumbled Lee Know as you emailed him his schedule for the day in the practice room.

"Maybe someday", you muttered as you skimmed over your messages.

“Stupid JYP with those stupid rules”, he sighed and you had to grin. You'd love to dance and maybe even do a livestream with Minho but the company probably wouldn't allow it. The Stream with Hyunjin was a spontaneous idea and you were sincerely happy that yet nobody from JYP had talked about it to you. You didn’t even know if they maybe had a talk with Hyunjin and you were sure, that he definitely wouldn’t tell you to protect you.

However one of the most important meetings was scheduled for this afternoon.

A meeting with a potential new sponsor and at the same time producer for the first music video of the comeback. So one of the most important meetings ever.

The first video had to work the way the guys imagined it and it was your job to make it work. It was essential that the new sponsor was on board.

To say you're nervous would be a massive understatement.

It was the first big meeting that you would have to do alone with Chan. Seungmin would also accompany you, which took some of the pressure off your shoulders. This was one thing you just couldn't mess up.

You just wanted to send Lee Know his appointments for today and skim them quick with him. The tasks consisted the meeting with a new choreographer and then discussing with DanceRacha whether their ideas for the choreography for the big video could be done as they wanted it or if they needed to work on it even more.

Hyunjin and Felix had both already written in your group chat that they were here at any moment and Jeongin was with them. As you walked into the room, Minho seemed to have been dancing all morning.

There were fine drops of sweat on his forehead and yet his skin was just glowing with freshness. Just like perfectly worked marble.

"The choreographer's name is Chun De-Jeong. His application was the most impressive and he has very good references. He sounded nice on the phone, too. But if you don't like something about him, just let me know and we'll find someone new”, you explained expertly and he smiled slightly.

"You really are the best manager we've ever had."

"I try my best", you replied, and that's when he sat down next to you on the sofa.

With that, you finished discussing his schedule as well.

"I've never seen you in a dress like that before...", he mused aloud, and right away you were tugging at the hem of the white fabric on your thigh.

"Is it too much? Do you think it would be better if I change?"

Concerned, you stroke the fine roses printed on the fabric. Directly, Lee Know shook his head, regretting his words.

"No. It's perfect. You are... It looks very cute. You look very beautiful", he said quickly, stumbling over his own words.

Actually, he couldn't take his eyes off the thin fabric the whole time, where it perfectly hugged your curves and sat firmly against your waist. Exploring your profile, Minho noticed from the moment you came in that you seemed tense and restless today.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

Quickly nodding, you shove your Ipad into your handbag next to the sofa.

"Yeah... Everything's fine. I'm just a little nervous about the meeting today."

"With that spoiled ass sponsor?"

You nodded again, kneading your hands restlessly in your lap. Carefully he puts one hand on yours and managed to cover both of your cramped hands with his.

Instead of a joke or a mean comment that you would have expected, his voice softened and he squeezed your hands reassuringly.

"You don't have to be nervous. Business people like that are often strange and not exactly sociable. They are assholes, but you're so adorable that he surely won’t refuse any of your wishes."

A worried sigh wrings itself from your throat and you finally managed to look him in the eye. Only now did he recognize the great concern on your face and moved instantly closer to you.

"What if I don't? What if I mess up and you lose a major sponsor because of me? They will fire me..."

His chocolate brown eyes seemed protective, eyeing you with such confidence that you wanted to snuggle up to him. He placed his other hand on your thigh and gently stroked it.

"You won't mess up. And even if it won't work out, we'll find another sponsor."

A soft laugh escaped you as he quoted you, and he too smiled in relief when he saw that energetic sparkle in your eyes again.

Minho was suddenly so gentle and caring in a way you had never witnessed. In front of the others, he always tried to appear tough and untouchable, always had a cheeky comment on his lips and seemed to let nothing upset him.

But right now his other side appeared. His touches were careful on your skin, as if he feared to break you and he was full of care. It’s a side of him that he reserved just for you.

You intertwined your hand with his and squeezed it gently. As you did so, your thighs were tight against each other and he gave you endless confidence with just that. He believed in you and that alone was such a big ego boost.

Your heart began to melt and your eyes were automatically on his engaging lips.

"Thank you Lino. That really helped. I didn’t know you could be so soft.”

Suddenly his facial expression changed. He looked confused, as if he had woken up from a dream, and quickly smiled again in amusement.

"That being said, you have Chan with you. He's gotten each of us out of trouble several times."

There he was again. The tough Lee Know, and he wondered to himself why he had suddenly gone so soft. It was your mere presence that made him protective. He enjoyed feeling your warm skin and seeing the happy twinkle in your beautiful eyes.

In fact, he managed to make you laugh again and it sounded better than music to his ears.

"Don't worry too much. We definitely won't give you back, kitten."

His hand squeezed your own protectively and it touched you that he dropped his walls in front of you. Without thinking, you leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

You just could not have expressed your gratitude with words.

However, he froze completely and before you could pull away, he grabbed your face rougher than he wanted to. Firmly, he pulled you closer and it took you a few seconds to realise that his lips were already on yours.

Overwhelmed, you clenched your hands until you could feel his pleasant grip on your hip. The other hand was on your cheek and when you finally understood, you put all the desire and concern into the kiss.

At first he was slow, savoring every second until he took your lower lip between his teeth and let his tongue brush over it. As soon as you opened your lips a little, he pushed his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss with his whole body.

He seemed like an addict who couldn't get enough and became more and more impetuous. He tasted like a heady mix of sweet strawberries and spicy mint.

Finally he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you onto his lap, where he didn't stop licking his tongue into your mouth. Your hands went into his hair and tugged on his strands. His hands went on a ramble, pushing your dress up until he could firmly grip your ass.

A small squeak of pain escaped you as he squeezed tightly and you felt the corners of his mouth lift at your lips despite your eyes being closed.

"You even purr like a little kitten", he growled and you were completely caught in a trance of arousal and passion as he began to spread wet kisses on your collarbone. He sucked on your skin and pushed you demanding against his lap.

The little sighs and your tensed face made the blood rush between his legs and he wanted to fuck you right there against the couch. But he also loved to tease you until you would whimper and beg him to fuck you senseless. That made the painful erection in his pants much more worth it. His hand lightly brushed your thigh dangerously close to your core.

His tongue licked along your collarbone, down to your cleavage, where he slowly pulled the fabric down and worked on your soft skin so intensely with his mouth that you feared just coming from it on his lap.

The bruises Hyunjin had sucked into your skin were almost gone and Minho wanted to make sure, to mark you again so that the other members would see it. He wanted them to know that you were already his little toy and that they had to make a great effort, to get to him.

Overwhelmed, you felt his bulge feel frighteningly large beneath you and immediately you wanted to see if it was really as immense as it felt on your covered pussy. The straps of your white dress fell off your shoulders and Minho's hands kneaded the flesh on your ass so hard that you would definitely get bruises. But that only fueled the arousal in your whole body.

"Admit it, Kitten! You only put on that cute slutty dress to drive me crazy!", he murmured against your skin, and everything about him made you dizzy. A hard hiss escaped him and he looked up at you with an exited bliss in his eyes.

“Damn didn’t thought you’re so fucking needy, Baby.”

With questioning eyes you let your fingers go trough his soft hair.

“What?”

“You’re grinding on me”, he explained and kissed the heated skin of your almost bare tits.

Suddenly, you became aware of your own body, feeling him underneath you and trying to feel as much of him as you can. You feel pleasant heat spread through your body, pooling together between your legs where you were far too effected by the feeling of his erection beneath you and somehow you still couldn’t make yourself stop, even though he looked at you with a teasing smile.

“Oh god. I’m sorry”, you murmured against his neck, but then, you felt his hands wrap around your hips further, fingers digging into the side of your ass, and you realised he’s helping you guide your hips.

He smelled so good that you just couldn’t stop rolling your hips against his.

“No need to apologise. That’s so fucking hot”, he growled and pulled your chin back, to kiss you deeply, while he pushed you even further against his hard bulge.

”That’s it, there you go“, he said softly as you moan into his mouth and started to move your hips against his length and you couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering, when the only thing between your clit and his dick was the thin fabric of your clothes.

Suddenly his voice is right by your ear and snaps you out of your aroused trance, so close it sends shivers down your spine:

”You should have told me you like dry humping my dick this much. Fuck, it makes me so hard, can you feel that, kitten?“

You could just nod and get flustered by his words.

Your behaviour was so messy and desperate, even Minho started to lose himself and he kissed you as if he’s never kissed before. It’s more tongue and teeth than needed, tasting you and moaning into your mouth when your tongue meets his. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Someone could come in an catch you, how you pounce on each other like heated teenagers, but the hurried kisses make your head feel like it’s spinning.

It hasn’t been long, you know that, but you’re already started to get close. Like with Hyunjin, you felt things that you never had experienced before. There was something about these boys that made you go crazy and they definitely knew what they were doing.

Even though your underwear and his sweatpants were seperating you from feeling him, there was something so intense about this and about Minho that it hardly mattered, and you knew it won’t be long until he would get you making a mess in your panties.

Unable to keep up with how good it felt, luckily Minho still had a hold on you, and when he noticed that it’s getting more difficult for you to keep composed, he gripped your flesh even harder.

Embarrassed you hid your face in the crook of his neck as he guided you by the hips harder and harder against his hard dick. With one hand he pulled you back by the nape of the neck so that you had to look at him while you dry humped him like a kitty in heat.

"No hiding! I wanna see every adorable flustered expression you make!”, he demanded with a harsh tone, both of you trying to pull the other closer for more stimulation. Your hands still groped and scratched at eachothers skin as you desperately grinded on eachother.

He slipped one hand to your throbbing cunt and started to circle your clit, while you tried to get more friction. He was so hard by now that your mere movements on his dick almost made him come. But he did force himself to calm down because he just wanted to work you to an orgasm and see your beautiful face tensed with desire just for him.

”Don’t stop!“, he ordered and his harsh tone made you whimper.

”I want you to be good and cum for me like this, okay? Can you do that, kitten?“

As soon as he hit the sensitive part of your clit directly with his fingers, a naughty moan escaped you and you started to ride your cunt so hard against his cock that you had to claw your fingernails into his back.

“Fuck… Minho”, you cried and couldn’t think of something else than your high which was announced by the tremendous heat in your lower abdomen.

"Aw, you like that, baby?", he chirped with a growl and guided your hips so that he would still hit all your sweet spots through the fabric. You nodded, unable to speak, rocking your hips even harder against him and his fingers.

He pushed his fingers against your clit and noticed how your body tensed. Directly he accelerated the intensity and held your face tightly again with one hand in front of his so he could look at your teary eyes, swollen lips and aroused expression as he worked you to your orgasm with just the snapping of his hips and his hand. You wanted him as close as possibly and somehow this, his mouth mere millimeters from yours, swallowing your breath, wasn’t enough.

“I’m gonna cum…”, you whimpered and he hold your face even rougher, digging his fingernails into your soft cheeks.

“Look how easy it is to turn you into the neediest, sluttiest mess, kitten”, he growled and pressed you firmly onto his throbbing dick. The wet spot on his pants was already as big as a hand, but he couldn’t care less.

“Oh I can’t wait to fuck that soaked little cunt till you cry my name all night!“

Your hands clawed for some type of, literally any, support on his shoulders while he grabbed your ass harsh.

„Be a good little slut and come for me!“, he demanded and his words twisted your mind.

Eventually you got so caught up in the moment you won’t even were able to stay focused on talking, and he started thrusting up, meeting your hips so you didn’t have to do any work. It’s this that finally does it for you, his hands holding you and his hips meeting yours and you automatically imagine how he would fuck you like this. You wanted more and more, caught up in his scent, his words and his body and finally your orgasm crashed over you.

He helped you to ride your high out and gently brushed his hand over your back.

"Feel better now?", he asked and kissed each corner of your mouth.

„Yes… Thank you, Minho.“

A little huff escaped your lips, while you still rubbed your overstimulated pussy against his length. The friction felt too good to stop, even though your soaked cunt was now extremely sensitive. He laughed lightly and ran his hands through your hair as you let your lips brush over his neck

„Greedy but polite. I like that“, he teased and kneaded your ass again. He couldn’t get enough of the perfect curves and the softness of your skin against his fingertips.

„I want you to fuck me, Minho“, you mumbled against his skin and kissed the sensitive spot on his neck beneath his ear. He instantly got goosebumps and in response he moved your hips again more firmly against his now painful hard length.

He would not and could not wait any longer. He longed to sink into your wet core and fuck you so hard until you begged him to stop. Therefore, he reached for his waistband and pulled it down. With a liberated gasp, his boner popped out and you had to bite your lower lip when you realized that it was even bigger than it had felt through the fabric. He would split you open, but you didn't care. Impatiently he pushed your panties aside and as he slipped into your aching core with just the tip, you already felt, how he stretched you out. Slowly you grinded your hips against his, gasping as only his tip filled you painfully good.

You were so dizzy that you almost didn't notice how the door to the practice room were opened and Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Felix walked in.

It wasn't until Minho glanced over your shoulder in annoyance. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw the boys staring at you over your shoulder.

Hyunjin looked at you with a amused, yet unsurprised grin. Felix stared open-mouthed at your naked ass with the white thong on that Minho still had a firm grip on, and Jeongin looked perplexed but definitely aroused by the way you ass was wiggling and grinding against his friends dick.

In fact, the three were more than grateful to have burst into this situation.

"Can't you knock?", Minho spat at them, leaning his forehead against the crook of your neck to breathe in your sweet scent once more. His tip was already in your cunt and he considered, if he should just don‘t give a fuck about the others and push himself all the way into you. If he did that, he'd probably fuck you in front of them too. He already had to fight against his desire but your shocked face made him weak.

Hectically, you tugged your dress back down and adjusted the straps on your shoulders, while he slowly slipped out of you and tugged his dick into his pants.

"We've been knocking, calling and messaging", Felix said meekly, unable to get the image of Minho's hands all over you out of his head and immediately imagining what it would be like to have you sitting on his lap like that, riding his dick and moaning his name.

He cleared his throat and stared at the floor, trying not to get a boner in front of everyone like a needy little schoolboy.

"Yeah... but you seem to have been too busy. Obviously…”, Hyunjin said and his smile was breathtaking.

Minho let you off his lap only after a short resistance and cursed his members quietly. Jeongin was still frozen, looking at you as if you had just flown from heaven to earth.

Embarrassed, you fixed your hair, not resisting Hyunjin's intense gaze. To Felix, you almost wanted to apologize as his head glowed so much you could barely distinguish it from the red walls.

"You guys have to fuck everything up", Lee Know grumbled, leaning forward so they couldn't see the wet spot and the huge bulge in his sweatpants directly.

"We're really sorry, but we need you, Lino. We need to finally start working the choreography out."

Even though Hyunjin's eyes continued to rest on your boobs, he spoke normally to Minho. Gradually, your heartbeat calmed down and you tried to ignore what just happened. They almost caught you, fucking in the practice room. Anyone could have come in but Minho didn’t seem to care at all.

"You look stunning by the way, Jagi", Hyunjin said then and pulled you close to his chest. With his hands lingering on your back, he kissed you quickly. He just couldn’t resist you. The kiss was short but intense and you returned his smile with rosy cheeks.

"Yes. The dress is beautiful on you", Felix agreed and his cuteness sent butterflies in your stomach.

"Thank you. You guys are really sweet."

Jeongin still couldn't get a word out and shoved his hands into his pockets. Suddenly, you remembered something.

Panicking, you searched your phone in your bag and almost had a second heart attack as you read first the time and then Chan's messages where he asked when you guys are going to meet to prepare for the meeting.

"Shit!" you cursed, gathering your things. Along the way, you slipped on your Converse Chucks that you had left by the sofa.

"I have to go see Chan right now. Do you know where he is?"

Hyunjin shrugged and connected his phone to the stereo.

"He was still here this morning", Lee Know said from behind you.

Felix nodded and Hyunjin glanced over his shoulder briefly and replied:

"Yes, but left again around 10 o'clock."

Then Jeongin said:

"He was just at the dorm."

„Okay, Well shit. I'll go there then. We have the meeting in an hour. Fucking hell..."

As you storm out, a few more not so ladylike curses slipped out, due to the stress. The guys looked after you and Hyunjin sighed loudly.

"Is it just me, or is she even outrageously hot when she curses like a sailor?"

Lee Know snorted in amusement and the other two could only agree. Then Hyunjin looked back at Lee Know with a knowing grin.

Still irritated, he snapped at him:

"What?"

Hyunjin pouted his lips and shook his head defensively.

"Nothing. Just wondering why you decided to fuck her in the practice room, in the middle of the day, where anyone could have come in.“

„Thanks to you I didn't even get to fuck her yet“, he said sourly and the boys knew, that Lee Know would go hard on them today. He almost were able to fuck the hottest girl he ever met, and of course his stupid members had to screw it up.

"The choreographer is here“, Felix said, glancing at his phone.

"Do you want me to bring him in? He's been waiting for a while", Jeongin asked, to which Lee Know stood up, his hands in front of the big tent in his pants.

"Tell him he'll have to wait a few more minutes if he doesn't want to blow me."

Felix pressed his lips together and Jeongin looked at him in amazement, while Hyunjin laughed. As the door slammed shut behind Lee Know, Jeongin said monotonously:

"I definitely won't tell him that."

-> Part 7

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© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[annieintheaair]

I love you but it hurts. It's over and it's not. I guess it's overtime then.

I had every intention of watching TV tonight, maybe catching up on some sermons or a new TV series, but this TV is terrible and not loading so I guess I'm writing instead.

I was supposed to fly last night but long story short, after some issues with the brakes on our first plane, then stuff stuck in the engines of the second plane, and our pilots going illegal, I ended up back home by 1:30am. I was actually pretty happy about it because I had just put new, clean sheets on my bed and couldn't wait to crawl into my own bed to enjoy them. My younger sister sent me a picture of my niece ready for bed the other night and I (half) jokingly asked if they made those sheets in king-size. As it turned out, they did make them in king-size so I bought them, washed them, and put them on my bed before going to work last night. I told myself that it was ok to get new sheets because it was like starting fresh -- new sheets that had never been slept on by anyone, especially my ex-boyfriend, Todd.

I allowed myself to sleep in this morning without an alarm. I think I woke up around 9am and realized I needed to check for order changes/cancellations for my second job, so I got ready and did that. Google said it was going to be in the 80s today so I threw on some shorts in preparation. Chick-fil-A emailed me that I could have a free chicken biscuit for breakfast but I needed to get it by 10:30am today. I let the dogs come for a ride with me in the car and drove down the street to get my free chicken biscuit and my vanilla iced coffee.

I don't know why but when I looked at my yellow nails this morning, I just felt like it was time to switch the color. It's weird because, after all of this time, I guess I forgot that there was a location of my favorite nail salon by my sister's house. I made an appointment and decided to head over there around 11:30am for my noon appointment. In some ways, this location was nicer than my normal location but also totally worth the extra 10-minute drive instead of going to the nail salon I hate nearby. They did a great job and I enjoyed a mimosa.

I picked up coffee from Black Rifle and then headed over to my sister's house. I am so glad that I got that coffee because I definitely needed it this afternoon.

I took my work call from my sister's house and then spent the afternoon entertaining my nieces with games and crafts, while also holding my two-month-old nephew. I have no idea how parents do it every day because one afternoon had me rushing home to a large glass of wine and some Cheez-Its, as well as peace and quiet.

On my drive home, the songs on my Spotify made me think about a lot of things. I thought about how just over a month ago I posted on my social media that I felt like my job right now was to focus on being the best aunt that I could be. I feel like I'm doing a really good job at that. Even with all of the bracelet-making today, when it got me super frustrated, I realized that sometimes I need to give myself grace. I know parents get frustrated too sometimes and even as an aunt, it's ok to get frustrated.

I also thought about previous relationships. I can't remember what song came on that made me think about it but I thought about Andrew and how even years after we broke up, he came back wanting to fix things. I knew then that it would never be equal-- he would want to make it work but I wouldn't. I realized that you need someone who is willing to match your effort. Andrew is now engaged and I'm happy for him that he found someone who wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with them.

Nearly nine years ago, I dated Scott. Scott was one of the only people who I ever felt like I really regretted letting that go. Scott is happy now, married, with an adorable little girl. I guess we never actually wanted the same things so it probably wouldn't have ever worked but we're still friends and he sends me memes on Instagram often. I'm glad that we got to the point where we could be friends. Just like Andrew, I could never hate Scott. I want the best for both of them.

Even James, who hurt me a ton, and Dan, who was my first real hurt (though he regretted it for the rest of his life), I wanted them to be happy, too. I think that most guys I've dated, I've wanted them to be happy, even my high school boyfriend, Mike. My 8th grade short-lived boyfriend, Sean? Yeah, him, too, and I still talk to him today. I think they all had some great qualities, and for whatever reason, it didn't work between us, but I never hated them. It never feels good to hate anyone.

I don't know if it will ever change in the future, but as of now, I think Todd is the only guy I've ever dated that I don't wish the best for, and it's kind of sad. How can you wish the best for someone who you feel doesn't deserve the best? Someone, who you genuinely believe is pure evil? Maybe it's time I reread Forgiving What You Can't Forget.

xoxo

Annie

[they-have-my-heart]

Sphinx?

Phinks x Reader - soulmate au

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: crack fic, cussing, breaking and entering

Author’s Note: this was written for @trassh-senpai for a secret santa gift! First time writing Phinks. It’s pretty cracky, possibly a little ooc for Phinks but 🤷 Let me know what you think! 

“Fucking Hell!”

Those words first appeared in a nice crimson color on the inner part of your bicep when you were eight years old. It was written in the worst chicken scratch you’d ever seen, but that didn’t stop you from sounding it out. 

“Ffff-uh-ck-ing….Huh-eh-ll. Fuck-ing Hell? Fucking Hell!” you shouted with delight once you finally figured out what it said. Your parents’ souls almost ascended right then and there. They scolded you and did their best to cover up the tattoo because “a child like you should not be associated with such foul language and obscenities”. There were also mummerings of “what kind of path is our child going down?” and “what have we done to deserve this?”. Your parents had always been a little over dramatic.

As you got older, you figured there was a funny story behind your soulmate’s first words to you. 

Most of your friends had, in your opinion, boring tattoos. “Oh, excuse me” , “Do you have a pencil I could borrow?”, “What’s the wifi password?”, “I like your hair”, and so on. All boring. All predictable. You were glad that yours was different and wasn’t so expected. It had the makings of a funny story that you would be glad to tell others once you had met your soulmate.

Today was not the day. The bakery you normally go to was out of your favorite sweet treats, the salon cancelled your hair appointment last minute, and you received an email from your professor saying that you needed to retake your midterm as something on his end had glitched and prevented him from seeing your answers. The one saving grace was that you were able to snag one of the last loaves of the good bread at the bakery. You were in a hurry to get home in order to put this awful day behind you, when a brute of a man slammed his shoulder into you. Normally, you would just ignore it and keep going. But not only did your shoulder ache, your loaf of bread had been crushed. That was the final straw.

“Hey, buddy! Why don’t you watch where you’re going? You rude ass Gucci wannabe,” you yelled at the back of the man who practically mowed you over.

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at you. 

“Fucking Hell!’

Your bicep burned as the blond man scowled the phrase etched on your arm. You pulled your arm out of your sweater sleeve and pulled up your t-shirt sleeve to see that the tattoo had changed from crimson to black, as if it had been solidified. 

The man also pulled his arm out of his jacket sleeve and tattooed on his bicep in your handwriting was the angry phrase you had just uttered. 

“Wait. You? You’ve absolutely got to be kidding me!” you did not have time for this today. 

He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the opening of an alleyway. 

“Do you know how much shit I get for this tattoo every day?”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so RUDE, you’d have a very different tattoo, yeah?” 

He rolled his eyes, the scowl remaining on his face. 

“If you’re not careful, your face will get stuck like that,” you tried to lighten the situation, but when his face stayed the exact same, you decided to just keep flaming the fire. “What’s your name, Gucci man?”

His face turned red. “Not fuckin’ Gucci man.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll start. My name is ______. And your name is…,” you elongated the last word waiting for him to answer. 

“Phinks,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What was that? Pinks?”

“Phinks!” he said with a little more authority in his voice.

“Okay, well Sphinx, you owe me another loaf of bread. Let’s go,” you grabbed his wrist and began to drag him back to the bakery. You had expected he would put up a little more resistance, but he willingly let you drag him. 

Luckily, the bakery still had one loaf left and you were able to grab it. 

“Alright, you got your stupid bread. Let’s go,” he said as he began to walk out. 

“Hold on there, bud. You’re paying for this.”

“The hell I am, just walk out. I ain’t paying for your stupid bread,” he turned again, but you snatched his wrist.

“Phinks, don’t make a scene. Just pay the people. You DO have money, right?”

“What kinda stupid question...yeah, I got money-”

“Then get it out.”

“I ain’t-”

“Now.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes while pulling out a handful of bunched up bills and some random coins. He dropped it on the counter and walked out. 

“Hold on, sir. This is too much!” the assistant tried to stop him. 

“I’ll give it back to him, sorry about that,” you gave them a smile and ran after the grumpy man. 

“Dude, what’s your problem? Here’s your change,” you shoved the money into his hand. 

Phinks stood there for a few moments staring at the money you had just put back into his hand, a scowl plastered all over his face. 

“I’m sorry if I came off too strong in there. I have a tendency to say whatever’s on my mind and if I embarrassed you, then I’m sorry,” you tried your best to sound sincere. You were being sincere, but you also weren’t going to tolerate a grown man acting so childish. 

He opened his mouth, but before any words came out, a short man appeared out of nowhere. 

“Phinks, you’re late. We were supposed to meet at the old factory 20 minutes ago.”

“Yeah, sorry. I got...caught up with something. Give me 2 minutes.”

The short man nodded and disappeared into a nearby alley. 

“Look, I wasn’t expecting to meet my soulmate today. Wasn’t actually ever expecting to meet you ever. But here you are. And I would like to get to know ya. You seem...alright. Like you can hold your own,” his face was turning red as he was staring at the ground.

“Yeah, I think we got off on the wrong foot. We can exchange phone numbers or something.”

“Phinks!” the voice from the alley shouted. 

“I’ll see ya around, ______.”

You blinked and he was gone. It seemed that he was trying to let you down easy. You hugged your loaf of bread on the walk home, trying to make sense of your encounter. 

The sun was shining through your bedroom window and the smell of coffee filled your apartment. You didn’t remember setting the automatic timer for the coffee pot or even preparing it, but yesterday had been so bizarre that you figured you had forgotten about the coffee. Preparing for a lazy day ahead of you, you threw on your most comfortable sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. You headed toward the kitchen to pour yourself some coffee and start making some breakfast. In the middle of the counter were some droopy flowers and a partially smashed box of donuts. The blond haired man from yesterday walked into the kitchen just as you noticed his gifts. 

You spat out your coffee, “Fucking hell! Sphinx! What the fuck, dude? What the-how the hell did you get in here?” 

“Damn, calm down darlin’. I was just tryin’ to apologize,” he grabbed some paper towels and started cleaning up the mess you just made. 

“How did you find me?” you asked, still in disbelief that he was standing in your kitchen.

“You weren’t that hard to track down, babe. You, uh, left this behind yesterday,” he held up your driver’s license. 

How did that get left behind? You thought to yourself. 

“Anyway, I need you to come with me. My boss wants to meet you,” he mumbled as his cheeks began to turn pink. 

“Phinks, I don’t even know what you do. Why would your boss want to meet me?”

“Listen, ______. Here’s the thing. Either you come with me and we can be together like we’re supposed to or you’ll never see me again. There is no domestic lifestyle for me. And you can either accept that and leave this behind or you keep what you have going on, but leave me behind.”

This was all so sudden and you weren’t sure how you were supposed to react. Your soulmate, whom you had just met yesterday, was telling you that you had to leave everything you knew behind if you wanted to be with him. 

“There must be a reason why we’re soulmates. I’d like to think it’s because we’re able to really understand each other,” he grabbed your hands and held them in his. “I would never let anything bad happen to you. I know I’m a little rough around the edges, but I can make a good life for us. There are plenty of good things I’ve missed out on, but you are one thing I don’t want to have to miss out on.”

You stared at your hands and his hands intertwined. It felt right. It felt safe. 

“Please, ______,” his hands moved to cup your face. His eyes were intense and sincere. What did you have to lose taking a chance on him? You leaned up and as soon as your lips met, it felt as though sparks were flying around the two of you. 

“Let me go change and get some things packed up, Sphinx.”

“Oh, you don’t need any clothes. I got you a matching tracksuit.”

Your eyes widened in horror as you did NOT want to be seen in a tracksuit, let alone a MATCHING tracksuit.

“That’s only a joke, babe. Go grab some stuff. I’ll wait right here.” 

[snelbz]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 9}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 3378

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Hestia

– Goddess of the hearth, home and family

Mondays and Wednesdays always seemed to drag.

Thanks to her lack of Rowan in class, Aelin’s classes were boring and she found herself thinking of other things, rather than the notes she was supposed to be taking. Like the way Rowan’s eyes had been on her as she went down on him in the shower earlier than morning.

At his insistence, she’d begun using his shower for more than just sex purposes, as she’d so eloquently explained to him the week before. She was regularly staying over, getting ready for her own classes in the morning, just as he was. But whenever one of them followed the other into the tiled shower, it was used for practical reasons.

As well as sexual ones.

Suppressing a whine as she thought of the way Rowan had pinned her up against the cool tiles that morning, Aelin crossed her legs and checked her watch. Only another twenty minutes and then she had her break between classes. She wasn’t hungry, thanks to the protein bar she’d eaten just before this class started, and she was close to the gen ed building, so she decided she would drop by her mythology professor’s office. She had a few questions about the homework he’d assigned yesterday and face-to-face was always better to her than an email.

Once her anatomy professor was wrapping up, Aelin was tossing her books into a bag and hauling ass across campus. Rowan’s last class was wrapping up, too, and she didn’t want to miss him before he hurried off to do whatever else.

She could’ve texted him to stay put, but she didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

She made it to his building and dodged by those who were hurrying off to their other classes or their beds, and stopped at Rowan’s office door before giving it a halting knock.

It took him a second to answer, but when he did, he was handsome as ever.

His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the button down tucked into his trousers. When he saw it was Aelin at his office door, a silver brow lifted.

“Aelin,” he began, clearing his throat. “How may I help you?”

“I have some questions about the homework,” she began, voice low, even though no one else was around. “Can I come in for a second?”

Rowan moved aside before she had finished her question. With one last glance down the hall he shared with a few other first-year professors, he shut the door, sealing them into his office. The blinds were open, but on the third floor, it wasn’t like anyone could see the private meeting he and his student were about to have.

Even if he didn’t know what kind of meeting it was about to be.

“Are you on your lunch break?” She asked, leaning back against his desk.

He nodded. “Didn’t plan on taking lunch, but I’ve got a couple hours before my next class. Was going to work on some grading. Why?”

He had stepped closer, pausing beside one of the chairs he kept in front of the desk for students to sit in.

Aelin clearly had other ideas of where to sit though. With a smirk, she reached out and lightly gripped his shirt, pulling him towards her.

“You had questions about the homework,” he breathed, leaning away as she tried to kiss him.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t kiss her. He just wanted to see her squirm.

And squirm, she did. “You know very well that I turned in the homework yesterday afternoon.”

She tried to kiss him again, but he fell away, even though his arms were around her waist.

“I don’t recall that,” he taunted. “Maybe you could remind me.”

“I turned it in just before I did this,” she crooned, and her lips found his.

Aelin kissed him, slowly, her arms snaking around his neck. She swore she would never tire of the feeling of his mouth on hers.

“Oh yeah,” Rowan muttered, against her lips. “Now I remember.”

It only took him a second to grab her hips and set her on top of his desk.

There was a clattering of something tipping over, probably a cup of pens or paper clips from the sound of it, but neither of them cared. Not as he gripped the outside of her thigh where her legs were wrapped around him, or her hand found its way into his hair. He was both frustrated and very glad she’d worn leggings today. While he wished she was wearing something with a bit easier access, it was probably a blessing in disguise that he couldn’t get his hand between her legs.

Or his mouth.

Or any other body parts.

That wasn’t stopping Aelin from rubbing against him, looking for friction, as their tongues battled and teeth occasionally clashed. She let out a quiet moan and he tugged on her hair, pulling her lips from his.

“We’re not fucking in my office,” he breathed, looking her in the eyes. “It is way too dangerous.”

She nodded, knowing and accepting the fact, but it didn’t mean she was done kissing him.

“Was this morning not enough?” He smirked, trailing his lips down her throat instead of returning to hers.

“It’s never enough,” she gasped. “Every time I’m away from you…”

Her words trailed off as their lips met. It was true. It was never enough. She was so fulfilled with Rowan, and the second he was gone, she longed for him.

“Come over tonight,” Aelin begged. “Stay with me tonight.”

Rowan groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.

They stayed at Rowan’s nearly every night. The only times Aelin stayed at her own apartment was when she had an exam or homework she had to work on, without Rowan distracting her. Lysandra and Aedion had met Rowan over dinner a few nights before, though Aelin had insisted take out was much more her friends’ speed than a fully home cooked meal. However, Aelin had a lab due the following morning, so after dinner, Rowan had gone back home.

Alone.

“We have class tomorrow,” he replied, lips still on hers.

“So we’ll make sure we get up early.” Dragging her teeth across his jaw, she gripped his shoulders. “Bring over everything you’ll need to come straight to class.”

Rowan hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t live on campus,” Aelin said, quietly. “It’s not like I live somewhere surrounded by students.”

Rowan pulled back and met her gaze. “It’s important to you?”

Aelin nodded, arms still wrapped around the back of his neck. “I love being cooped up in your apartment. I really do. But, sometimes I wanna be cooped up somewhere else, too.”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “Alright.”

“Yeah?” Aelin asked, a soft smile painted across her light pink lips.

Rowan couldn’t help his own smile forming as he leaned forward and pulled Aelin closer to him as he kissed her, softly. They went on like that, dwelling in those slow, prolonged kisses. There was something personal, something exceptional about a long, slow kiss. Something sensual that made Aelin’s stomach feel like it was going to explode, even though it lacked that animalistic passion they had come to find within one another.

A quick knock at the door had them jumping apart, Rowan dragging a quick hand through his hair, not having a chance to reply before the door opened.

“Hey, Rowan, I was hoping you could— Oh.”

The pretty woman froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her.

It was innocent enough, though Aelin’s lips were swollen from their kisses. That could easily be explained away, especially as her teeth found the bottom lip and gnawed on it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had an appointment,” she said, eyeing Aelin, who had thankfully gotten off the desk before she’d entered.

“It wasn’t officially booked,” he explained, slightly stepping in front of Aelin to keep her shielded. “Miss Galathynius had a few questions about the homework I assigned in class and about an upcoming project. She stopped by during her lunch break, since her schedule is so busy.”

Silence built in the office, and after a second, Rowan cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Remelle?”

“Maeve sent out an email about a mandatory department meeting for Thursday night,” she said, slowly, still looking at them both suspiciously. “A couple of us in the building were going to get drinks after, wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll plan on it.”

“Good,” Remelle said, a little too quickly. “And check your mailbox in the office. It’s full.”

With another look at Aelin, then at Rowan, Remelle left and the door fell shut behind her.

Silence enveloped the room.

Rowan slowly turned around to look at Aelin, whose face was pale.

“You couldn’t have locked the door?” she whispered.

Rowan scoffed. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t have been suspicious, being locked in here with a student.”

For some reason, the word student felt like a jab coming from him in that moment. Aelin’s back straightened. “I wasn’t aware that the receptionist randomly barges into your office. If a student found it locked, they probably wouldn’t think it was weird, at all. Offices around here are locked all the damn time.”

Rowan sighed and nodded. He stepped towards her and ran his hands up and down her arms, pressing a soft kiss to Aelin’s forehead. “You should go. There’s only so much we can talk about homework.”

Nodding, Aelin wrapped her arms around his waist, and he wrapped her up in his own. “I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll run by my place to grab some things and pick up dinner on the way,” he promised, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’ll see you later.”

She nodded and rose up on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Grabbing her bag from the chair, she adjusted her messy bun, which was only a little messier than it had been before and slipped out the office door.

Leaning back on the spot Aelin had just been sitting in, Rowan took a quick moment to breathe before setting his desk to rights and heading down to check his community mailbox. It wasn’t full as Remelle had implied, but there were a few things in it, mostly department memos and notes from other professors. He ignored her suspicious look as he made his way back up the stairs to his office and settled behind his desk to work on the grading he’d planned to do during his lunch.

He was halfway through an essay from one of his upperclassmen when his email dinged on his laptop. It had gone off a few times since Aelin had left, but he’d ignored them, assuming they were automatic replies to Maeve’s email about the meeting.

Tapping on the track pad of his laptop to wake it up, he kept reading over the essay as his email came to life, but he waited until he was done to look over at the most recent notifications.

Freezing, Rowan’s eyes flashed over the subject of the email from Maeve three times before he actually had the nerve to open it.

Meeting in my office after your final class of the evening.

We need to have a talk.

*

Aelin felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours.

Which was exactly how long it had been since she had received her text from Rowan.

As someone who was not nervous or paranoid by nature, she hated the feeling of being so freaked out that she was nearly about to vomit. She had already cleaned her apartment once, and was pouring herself a glass of wine as she was deciding what she could clean next. Maybe she would clean out the fridge.

After downing her glass of wine, she did just that, throwing open the refrigerator door and emptying out what had been in there for over a week.

She didn’t even hear the front door open, nor did she hear her roommate and cousin walk into the kitchen.

“Ace?”

Aelin yelped, jumped, and spun around, nearly knocking over her glass of wine on the counter nearby. “What the hell?” she yelled. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that! Doesn’t anyone realize how fucking rude it is to just barge in?!”

Aedion’s brows shot up as Lysandra stepped forward. “Uh, everything okay?”

Aelin’s face fell into her hands as she leaned against the countertop. “Does it look like everything is okay?” she asked, words muffled.

“What happened?” Lysandra asked, gently prying Aelin’s hands from her face.

Her eyes were still shut, as if she could shut out the world. Taking a deep breath, she released it, answering in one, quick burst. “I think Rowan and I got caught.”

She heard something hit the floor, clearly dropped by Aedion, but Lysandra’s hands went slack on her wrist. “What do you mean?”

Letting her head fall to the countertop, she groaned once before standing up straight and looking at them. Aedion had indeed dropped the bag of pretzels he’d pulled from the cabinet.

“We both had long breaks today, so I stopped by his office to see him for a minute. I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I mean… Yeah, I kinda did. I kissed him first.”

“I don’t need to hear about this. Lys can fill me in,” Aedion muttered, scooping the bag of pretzels off the floor and heading for Lysandra’s bedroom.

“We didn’t fuck or anything,” Aelin sighed after he left. “But we did make out on his desk a bit. It was barely even PG-13.”

“So what happened?” Lysandra asked, getting another glass down and refilling Aelin’s glassed wine and filling one for herself. “How did you get caught?”

“The secretary walked in,” Aelin said, staring at a spot on the hardwood. “She didn’t see anything, we broke apart before the door opened, but… I don’t know. She sounded suspicious, looked suspicious.” Aelin took a sip from her glass. “I mean, seriously, who knocks but doesn’t wait for a come in before they open the damn door? It’s rude as hell.”

“I don’t wait before coming into your room,” Lysandra said.

“That’s different, we live together,” Aelin said, unable to control her chuckle.

Lysandra smiled, but it faded as she shook her head. “That man needs to learn how to lock his office.”

“That’s what I said!” Aelin agreed, and topped off her glass before it was even halfway empty.

“So, what?” Lysandra went on. “She came in but didn’t see anything. Maybe she just always looks suspicious. I’m sure nothing will come out of it.”

Without another word, Aelin took her phone out of her pocket and slid it across the counter. Lysandra slowly picked it up and read Rowan’s text.

Got an email from Maeve. I have to go to her office tonight. Says she needs to talk to me. Sounded urgent.

Aelin had texted back. Did she say what it was about?

No, Rowan had replied. But it doesn’t sound good.

“Have you heard from him since he sent these?” Lysandra asked, setting the phone down.

“No, but we’ve both been in class.” Aelin let her head fall to the countertop again. “He’s supposed to come over after he gets out. But now I’m wondering if that’s such a good idea. What if someone sees him getting here?”

“It’s not all students, and we’re not exactly social butterflies. We don’t know any of our neighbors,” Lysandra said, clearly trying to soothe her.

Aelin just shook her head. “I like him, Lys. A lot. I can see a future with this guy, but… What if this is all too much? It’s too dangerous. We’re jeopardizing our futures.”

Lysandra’s eyes softened. “The secretive part of your relationship is only temporary. Besides, he’s head over heels for you, too. Would it really be worth it to give that up?”

“What if Rowan is about to lose his job?” Aelin shot back. “Lys, I would never be able to forgive myself. I have to do something.”

“Always the hero,” Lysandra muttered. “Look, the best thing you can do right now is stay here, drink wine, and let it all play out. Rowan is a big boy. He can handle himself.” Aelin said nothing, so Lysandra went on. “I just want to see you happy. Does he make you happy?”

“Beyond. Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the counter. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but… I care about him.”

“And it’s pretty damn clear that he cares about you, so sitting and waiting sucks, but that’s what you’ll have to do.” Lysandra crossed the kitchen and wrapped her best friend up in a hug. Aelin’s forehead fell to her shoulder. “I can send Aedion to get more wine if you want.”

Aelin nodded.

Lysandra chuckled and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do. Why don’t you—?”

A knock on the front door had Aelin’s head snapping up and she hurried from the kitchen. Throwing open the door, she found Rowan standing on the other side. Before he could say anything, she pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, I’ve been so fucking worried.”

To her surprise, he laughed quietly, and it only caused Aelin to lean back, eyes wide. “What could possibly be funny right now?”

“I’m not I’m trouble,” he whispered, arms going around her waist. “We’re safe, we’re fine.”

Aelin blinked, all anxiety fading from her body only to be replaced with confusion. “Why did Maeve call you into her office, then?”

“She just wanted to check how things were going.” He shrugged. “Being new, and her nephew, she just wanted to check in.”

“Gods, Rowan!” She shoved his chest, lightly. “You couldn’t have texted me that? I’ve been a nervous mess!”

“She’s not exaggerating,” Lysandra mumbled from behind them. “Hi, Professor.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Hi, Lysandra.”

As Lysandra headed towards her room, he looked down to where Aelin was staring at his chest. He tilted her chin up until she was forced to look at him. His brow furrowed and he was surprised to see silver lining her eyes. “Everything is okay, baby. Why are you crying?”

She shook her head and blinked, but wasn’t able to stop the single tear that spilled over. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I thought we got caught, that I had ruined your life.”

His heart nearly broke. “Aelin…” He wrapped her up in his arms again, holding her as tightly as he dared, as if he could keep her from falling apart. After a second, he leaned back so he could look at her, but didn’t let her go. “Being together isn’t a decision that just one of us has made. We both went into this relationship knowing the consequences. If something were to happen, if someone finds out, you aren’t ruining my life.”

Aelin snorted, and framed his face in her hands. “So we’d both be ruining your life?”

“No one’s life will be ruined,” Rowan promised. “I’m going to be with you, Aelin. Now, and when you graduate, we can have a normal relationship, whatever the hell that means. If you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s a big promise to make so early in our relationship,” Aelin breathed, running her thumbs across his cheeks.

“I have a good feeling about us,” Rowan followed, melting into her touch.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, but pulled back and smirked. “But maybe I’ll start locking my office, just in case you decide to make another unexpected visit.”

Aelin threw her head back and laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rose up on her toes to kiss him again.

The day had stressed them both out, but throughout it all, there was only one thing Rowan could think about: he didn’t know what his future held, but there was one thing for sure.

He wanted Aelin in it.

[fruitcoops]

Hi! If u have any time, I would love to read some fluffy Coops hurt/comfort! Maybe Remus having a nightmare about Greyback?

I can, yes! For those of you wondering why I didn’t continue the Greyback audio series despite a couple different asks: someone kept coming into my inbox and bothering me about progress, and I got tired of it. I write for fun, and if the story isn’t flowing I generally work on something else for a bit until inspiration strikes. Constantly asking (like, three times a day) about a fic will not get it out faster.

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for nightmares, past injury, and self-deprecating dream talk (briefly)

Greyback was out of the league, and rumors had begun to fly about a possible court case. Remus had received hundreds of texts, emails, and DMs from people expressing their condolences—his old teammates had contacted him more in the past 48 hours than they had in literal years.

And he was so unbelievably tired.

Hattie rumbled against his front and Sirius was solid and warm behind him, curved in a protective parenthesis against the endless unanswered messages. Upon Remus’ request, he had taken his phone and put it on the top shelf of the laundry room cupboards; anyone who wanted to talk to Remus would go through Sirius, first. He couldn’t think of anyone that mattered who didn’t have Sirius’ phone number.

“Are you still awake?” Sirius murmured against the nape of his neck. Remus nodded silently. “Do you want to take some melatonin?”

“It’s alright.”

Sirius shifted and pulled the blankets further onto their shoulders; Hattie wiggled up until her face was out of the sheets, then sighed heavily. “Do you want to talk?”

Remus shrugged, suddenly feeling shaky and untethered. He had only caught a passing glance of Greyback at the conference, staring him down across the lobby until his handlers took him away and left Remus alone with the media. The look in his eyes was almost murderous. “Just don’t let go.”

The arm around his waist tightened and he closed his eyes, matching his breaths with Sirius’ until his world narrowed to the heartbeat against his shoulder and Hattie’s fur in his hand. No aching feet, no pounding head, no verge-of-tears clog in his throat—just Sirius, just Hattie, just them in their bed and the whole world locked outside.

“We’re going to be okay, right?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Sirius moved and a small pocket of cold lodged behind Remus’ knees. “Re, I knew what happened before the story came out.”

“But know there’s…”He waved a hand in the air. “People. Cameras. So many people trying to contact me all the time, and I’m tired. I haven’t really been here for you.”

“Remus.” Sirius tugged on his shoulder until he rolled onto his back, but kept their sides pressed together. “You don’t have to be here for me right now. It’s my job to be there for you while this is going on. Besides, I’m used to dealing with media and nosy people.”

Remus exhaled slowly. “Thank you for taking my phone.”

“You asked me to do it.”

“Still. You could’ve said no.”

“You have enough on your plate already, mon loup.” Sirius trailed his fingers lightly through Remus’ hair and he closed his eyes. “Sleep. I know you didn’t last night.”

“I slept a little bit.”

“Yeah, for about two hours.” A gentle kiss pressed against his cheek. “Sleep.”

He took a deep breath and tried to relax, letting the tension drain from his muscles and allowing the tsunami of exhaustion to wash through in its place. His brain still ran at a million miles per hour and he could feel the beginnings of yet another headache—though who was he kidding, the last week had been a constant headache—but he focused on his heartbeat and breathed in the familiar scent of their bedroom.

Remus felt himself slipping, and suddenly all he smelled was sweat. Sweat and fear and the spongy plastic of the mats sticking to his cheek. He couldn’t feel any pain, but the terror of someone’s hands on his body bolted all the way to his core. Pressure on his thighs as the person’s knees pinned him down; pressure on his back and a palm by his shoulder blade; pressure, so much pressure, on one joint until it gave out and Remus was falling.

He was cold, colder than any ice bath, and gasping for air.

He won’t love you. He never did. Nobody will ever be able to tether you for long. He’ll get tired of trying.

“Please,” Remus begged as the roaring wave came up behind him. A blurry face appeared ahead, with cold eyes and a razor-sharp smile. “No, no—”

Fenrir wouldn’t let go. He was trapped like a fish in a net, struggling and fighting against the harsh grip until his eyes flew open and someone was talking right next to his ear and it was too much too much too much—

“No!” His elbow slammed into something soft and the warmth across his chest disappeared. “Get off me!”

Bedroom. He was in a bed, in a bedroom. In his bedroom. It smelled like lavender and laundry detergent. Hattie was on the floor, carefully sniffing his hand and watching him with huge gray eyes as he pulled his knees to his chest and waited for the last of the nightmare to tremble through him.

A hand brushed against his arm and he flinched, teeth chattering despite the warm room. “Don’t touch me.”

“Okay.” The mattress dipped as Sirius sat up and crossed his legs, sitting patiently and rubbing one rib.

Remus’ mouth went dry. “Did I hit you?”

“Just your elbow.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I hit you.”

“Do you want to take a look?” Sirius asked, his voice soft. Remus blinked rapidly and shifted to face him; he lifted the edge of his sleep shirt and gestured to his ribs. “See? No marks. You didn’t hurt me, just surprised me.”

“Part of me wishes they never found that video,” Remus said. The words tumbled from his lips—he had been choking them down for days now, but he was too tired to hold them in anymore. “I wish nobody ever knew except you and me and him.”

Sirius hummed. “That’s fair.”

“It’s stupid. He deserves what he’s getting.”

“He does.”

Frustration bubbled in his chest. “Then—then I have to choose one, right? He deserves what he’s getting and I deserve to move on and his name should be dragged through the mud, but I just want people to leave me the fuck alone.”

His shoulders folded in and he pressed his forehead to his knees; there were no tears left, but that didn’t stop the shivering that made his stomach hurt. “Can I touch you?” Sirius asked after a moment.

“Yeah.” Remus leaned into him, laying both his legs over one of Sirius’ and curling up like a barnacle against his side. “Sorry for dumping all this on you.”

“Re, this isn’t dumping stuff on me. This is communicating how you feel, and Heather says that’s a good thing.”

“Heather isn’t here.”

“When’s your next appointment?”

“Monday.”

Sirius gave him a squeeze. “I’m not a therapist, but I can hug you until Monday if you want.”

Remus laughed a little—there wasn’t much humor in it, but at least it was there. “That sounds pretty nice, actually. I’m going to take a shower and then make some tea.”

“It’s a mint with honey kind of day?”

“Yeah.”

Forty minutes later, when Remus was mostly dry and bundled in his most comfortable sick-day clothes, he went downstairs and found a steaming mug of mint tea with honey waiting on the coffee table. Sirius smiled and patted the couch as the opening credits of Avatar began. It felt…well, it felt almost normal.

[thebookreader12345]

Heart Palpitations

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x reader

Summary: Y/N passes out and ends up in the hospital where she meets the handsome Dr. Rhodes, the man who’s going to save her life from what she believes are panic attacks

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks and heart conditions

Word Count: 1,373 Words

“Did you really have to bring me to the hospital? I’m fine,” I tell the paramedic.

“Per hospital policy, if we get to a victim who is unconscious, we have to bring them in. Besides, you passed out at work. That means something’s up,” the woman responded and pushed my gurney into one of the open trauma rooms, letting me move to the bed. “Now, change into this, and Dr. Rhodes should be with you soon,” she said and left the room, taking the gurney with her.

“Ugh,” I groan. “This is ridiculous.” I changed into the hospital gown quickly and sat down on the bed, pulling out my phone to check my email. As I was typing back a reply to a message my co-worker sent, a doctor entered the room. I thought Dr. Rhodes would have been a bald, old man, but he was quite the opposite. It took everything I had in me to stop my jaw from dropping.

“Hi, Ms. L/N. I’m Dr. Rhodes,” the man spoke.

“Please. Call me Y/N,” I correct.

“Okay. Y/N, I’m Connor,” Connor greeted.

“Nice to meet you, Connor. Can I just say that you’re the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen,” I point out.

Connor blushed a little bit, but ignored the comment and lifted up his tablet. “So you passed out at work today?”

“Yeah, but its no big deal. I get panic attacks, which sometimes cause me to pass out,” I explain.

“Panic attacks? Can you tell me more about that?” Connor asked.

“Uh, sure. I started getting them a few years ago, so I went to a doctor who confirmed it. I’ve been taking medication for them ever since, but every so often a panic attack will hit me,” I disclose. Connor nodded and tapped away at his tablet, giving me the opportunity to admire him. That’s when my eyes caught sight of his doctor’s coat, and I saw his specialty. “Cardiothoracic? You guys think there’s something wrong with my heart?” I question.

“Well, you could be having panic attacks, but passing out doesn’t fit the normal symptoms” Connor replied and slid his stethoscope off his neck. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” I answer.

Connor walked closer to me and slipped the stethoscope into my gown, pressing it to my chest. The metal from the stethoscope was cold, causing me to flinch a bit.

“Sorry,” Connor apologized. “I should’ve warned you about that.”

“Its cool,” I state as he listened to my heart. When I first got here, I was confident that everything was fine. However, Connor made a weird face, so I got worried. “Is something wrong?”

“Your heart is beating pretty slowly. Maybe you weren’t getting enough blood to your brain, so you passed out. I’m going to need to run some more tests,” Connor spoke.

..............................................

“Coronary artery disease? Isn’t that what older people get?” I question.

“Its mostly found in older people, but young adults do get it from time to time. Basically, your arteries get blocked easily by cholesterol, so less blood is getting to your brain, causing you to pass out every once in a while,” Connor explained.

“So what’s the plan? Do I need surgery?” I ask.

“That’s a last resort option. For now, we’re going to start you on some meds. I’m going to need you to come in every couple of weeks so I can check up on you and see if the meds need to be switched or adjusted,” Connor responded.

“Well, if I have to see a doctor over and over again, I’m glad its one with a face like yours,” I confess, causing Connor’s cheeks to turn red. This time, I even got a little smile.

“All right. I’m going to get you started on some anti-coagulants, and then you’ll be able to get back to work as a.................” Connor froze when he realized he didn’t know what my career was.

“Paralegal,” I state. “I work at a law firm down town.”

“Huh,” Connor said.

“What?” I ask.

“I just didn’t pick you as the law type,” Connor replied. “I would’ve thought firefighter or cop based on your personality.”

“You know, you’re not the first person to tell me that,” I inform him. “My dad’s a cop, and being an only child, he really wanted me to pursue his career.”

“So why didn’t you?” Connor questioned.

“I’d rather not run into a spray of bullets and risk dying,” I say. 

Connor laughed and tapped away at his tablet. “I see your point. Nurse Sexton will be in here in a bit to give you the meds I just ordered, and on your way out, you and I will schedule your first check in. That sound good?”

“Sounds great. Thanks, Connor,” I exclaim.

Connor smiled. “No problem.”

3 Weeks Later

“There’s my favorite patient!” Connor exclaimed as he entered the room I was sitting in. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine, I guess. Work has been super busy lately, so I’m more stressed than usual. Other than that though, I’ve been good. How about you?” I ask.

“Oh, you know. Fixing people’s hearts. Saving lives. The usual,” Connor joked. “So, has the passing out stopped?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t happen as often as before, but I still pass out every once in a while. Thankfully, it hasn’t been at work, just at home,” I answer.

“All right” Connor said and took his stethoscope from his pocket. “May I?”

“Go on ahead,” I reply and shrug off my jacket to give him easier access to my chest. Connor slid the stethoscope under my shirt, and this time, the cold metal didn’t bother me as much. Connor placed his hand on my shoulder as he listened to my heart, sending tingles throughout my body. I then realized how close Connor and I were to each other, and I could feel my face heating up.

“I think I’m going to keep you on the anticoagulants, but I’m going to add statin, which should hopefully keep you from passing out,” Connor explained.

“U-uh okay,” I stutter out, still flustered from the closer encounter I had with him seconds earlier.

“You good? Connor asked me.

“I’m fine. Do I need to schedule another appointment with you?” I question.

“I’m afraid until I get you on the right course of meds, you’ll have to keep coming back,” Connor responded.

“I don’t mind,” I say and pull my jacket back on. “Besides, you’re much more pleasant to talk to than the people I work with so...”

Connor laughed. “I believe it. Anyways, let me just prescribe you those meds and schedule another appointment, and then you can go on your way.”

3 More Weeks Later

“Its settled. I’m a genius. Tell me I’m a genius,” Connor said once he learned that I hadn’t passed out since he changed my meds, meaning they were working.

“Okay. You, Connor Rhodes, are the smartest doctor in the city of Chicago, and possibly the whole state of Illinois,” I state and laugh.

“Thank you,” Connor declared and bowed.

“Well, I guess this means goodbye. Since my heart is fixed, there’s no reason for me to keep coming back. Thanks again, Connor,��� I tell him and make my way towards the door.

“Y/N wait,” Connor called out and stopped me just before I could leave, pressing his lips to mine. I was shocked at first, because I didn’t expect Connor to kiss me, but I soon got into it, wrapping my arms around Connor’s neck to bring him closer to me. When we pulled apart, I was almost out of breath.

“What was that for?” I ask.

“Ever since we met, I’ve felt this connection with you, and its only grown stronger over the past few weeks. Would you consider going on a date with me sometime?” Connor questioned.

I smiled. “I would love to go on a date with you. You’ve already got my number, so just text me anytime and we’ll work something out. As for now, I’ve got a huge case at work, so I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later, Connor,” I say and lean forward, kissing him one more time before leaving the room.

_________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @king-crockett​

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (12)

In Which Lila Learns about Skyrim

Ao3 | FF.net

Sorry for taking a bit with this chapter. It isn’t even very long. But I was in the hospital recovering from surgery. We’re coming up close to the end of the story, but there’s maybe two more chapters after this. 

(Psst this chapter has hints to the next story I’ll publish after this one...as long as my ideas don’t change lol)

--

Lila was fired. It was immediate when they found out. Everyone sat in class, the lecture normal and lulling everyone into a soft state of sedation. 

Then Lila screamed. The scream was the worst thing Marinette had ever heard. Immediately, everyone turned to look at her in horror. 

She started bawling. Huge gasping sobs of someone who’d been shot. 

“Lila?!” Miss Bustier gasped in shock and concern. “Are you okay?!” 

“I’m so sorry, Miss Bustier!” She wailed. “I just wanted to peek at my email and—and—Mr. Agreste fired me!” 

Plagg had to bite his tongue. He knew she was going to twist this somehow, but her sobbing was so beautiful to see. 

“Oh Lila, I’m so sorry. It hurts a lot to lose a job. Especially when they don’t tell you to your face. That’s no fair.” 

“He-he-he said that Marinette told him that I was making Adrien uncomfortable! She got me fired!” 

Gasps, all around. 

“What?!” Barked Marinette. “I had nothing to do with this!” Not exactly the truth...

“But that’s what Mr. Agreste said!” 

Plagg stood, placing his foot on the seat, the spurs on his cowboy boots ringing with the motion. He put his cowboy hat back on (since Mrs. Bustier had asked him to remove it for violating dress code...again.) “well now. Sounds like we got ourselves in a gosh darn pickle.” 

Nino snorted. 

“Adrien! You never said I made you uncomfortable! Marinette must have lied to your father!” 

He flicked the rim of his hat. “Now slow your roll there, Buckeroo. I know my old man, and even if Marinette was mentioned in his email, it’s likely that he just wanted to place the blame on someone else.” 

Yes, throw the old man under the bus. He still deserves it, even with whole hearted apologies. 

“But you know, I do feel awfully bad for you, Lila. Losing yer job and all. How’s about I make it up to ya? I’ll come sit by you for a while. Keep ya company and cheer you up. Cain’t have gettin’ all akumatized up in here, you reckon?” 

Not that Lila getting akumatized was even a concern anymore. But the world wouldn’t know about Hawkmoth’s surrender until Emilie’s fate was resolved. Adrien’s family deserved that much at least. 

“Oh Adrien!” Lila cried. “You really are such a wonderful friend. But I couldn’t bear to make you move on my behalf. You need to focus on your work.” 

“A cowboy needs to be exceptional at multitasking. That is, as long as Mrs. Brassiere is okay with it.” 

Miss Bustier pinched the bridge of her nose. Usually, she was a very calm and level-headed teacher, compassionate and understanding. But Adrien’s antics were stressing her out massively. “Yes, Adrien, I suppose it’s fine if you move to—what did you call me?”

“Much obliged, Madam. If’en you’ll excuse me...” 

Marinette watched with fascination as Plagg gathered up his materials and moved to the back of the class to sit next to Lila. Then she glanced in her purse, where Tikki and Adrien were hanging out. They both shrugged. 

Due to the retirement of Hawkmoth, Adrien was now allowed to spend time away from the Miraculous without consequence. Plagg assured him that once the final condition was met, no matter where he was, his soul would return to his body. 

So he spent the school day with Tikki, and the evenings with Marinette. It was a sweet deal, and it really gave Adrien the time to bond with her without school or akumas in the way. 

He had even spent the night with her the night before, curled up next to her on her pillow, and purring every time Marinette’s hand glanced his fur. 

Nino leaned back in his seat. “Do you know what he’s up to this time?” 

“No idea...but I am eager to see where this goes.” 

Nino shook his head with a shrug. Two nights ago, when Plagg was arrested, Nino gathered all the money in his savings and went down to the jail to bail him out. 

Only to find out he was already let go. 

So he went back home, and called Adrien’s phone relentlessly, hoping for an answer. 

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Chat Noir returned and explained that he was going home now, thanks for having him, he had to watch the mansion because his sort of repentant father was going to Tibet to resurrect his dead wife. 

Nino gave up on logic and understanding, and just made sure Plagg had everything he had brought. 

Now he would wait until the whole situation blew over, and hopefully Adrien himself, in his own body, would explain it all to him. Plagg seemed to oversimplify everything to the point it became vague. 

Marinette, on the other hand, was very curious to see where this was all going. After all, Adrien’s previous tactic of being nice to Lila hadn’t worked. So what was Plagg hoping to gain from the same approach?

Wrassle her with his randomly appointed cowboy charm? 

In science, two classes later, Plagg had elected to sit next to Lila still, despite her protests. 

Marinette was close enough now to hear what Plagg’s master plan was. 

“So there’s like several types of Mer, right? But not like mermaids. This has nothing to do with mermaids. These are mostly elves, but not all. So there’s Dunmer, right? Those are dark elves. And Bosmer, wood elves, and Altmer, high elves. The Falmer are snow elves, but they’re all twisted and savage, because of the Dwemer, which are dwarves!” 

Marinette snorted a bit too loudly, drawing attention from the teacher. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, is something funny?” 

“No ma’am, I had a tickle in my sinuses.” 

“Ah, I see. Anyways, as I was saying...” 

Lila always sat in the back of the class, despite her many alleged disabilities. This was probably to get away with the fact that she rarely paid attention during class. 

It was the ideal place for Plagg to harass her and not get caught. 

Poetry in motion. 

“So you get to pick what race you want to be, but you’re always the Dragonborn. Despite the description, you don’t look any different. So a Dragonborn is someone that can devour the souls of dragons so they don’t get resurrected by Alduin. Let me back up, Alduin is an evil dragon that used to rule the world, and he’s resurrecting dragons so he can take over. There’s another dragon though, named Paarthanax, and he’s a good guy. He helps out the Tongues on the Throat of the World. Or the greybeards. Some call them Tongues, but in the game they’re called Graybeards. And the tongues are the monks that teach you to shout. And different shouts teach you different things, right? The dragonborn and the tongues are the only ones that are supposed to know how to shout, but there’s this other dude named Ulfric Stormcloak, and he knows Unrelenting Force, that’s the Fus Ro Da shout I was talking about earlier? He used it to kill high king Torygg to start a war. Oh yeah, so there’s nine holds with Jarls, right—“ 

The day ended, and Lila stood quickly. “Well Adrien, thank you so much for keeping me company today. I’m feeling a lot better. You can move back up to your old spot tomorrow.” 

“Well, you shore are welcome, Pardner. But sittin here in the back has been mighty nice. I think I’ll stay! You don’t mind, do ya? It’s awfully fun to have you as company!” 

Lila’s eye twitched, but she was aware that most of the class was watching them. “Yeah. That’d be...great.” 

“Darn tootin’! Well, you look like you’re in a rush, don’t want to hold you up!” 

“See you tomorrow!” She chirped, before hurrying from the room. As she passed Marinette, a dark look came over her face. The look of someone seething with rage and hatred, but trying to hide it. 

Marinette would have been scared, if Lila hadn’t been dealing with Plagg instead. 

Marinette went home, Tikki and Adrien talking to her from her collar. 

“I don’t know. Plagg was successful with the first two tasks, but I don’t know how he’s going to turn Lila over to the good side.” Marinette mused. 

“I don’t know if he has to. The condition is to just get her to leave me alone. He said he was doing some Pavlovian Jedi mind trick on her.” 

“Well, I sure hope it works. Speaking of, where is Plagg?” 

Adrien’s ears flicked. “He left pretty suddenly after class. I didn’t see him go. Hopefully, he went back to the mansion.” 

“Do you want me to call him?” 

“No, I trust him. He’s got things under control.” 

“Glad to hear it! Ready for snack time?” 

“Oh heck yes!” 

—

Lila had to actively stop herself from stomping all the way home. Frustration rolled off of her in waves, and she mildly wondered why she hadn’t been akumatized yet. 

Adrien Agreste was the most annoying person she had ever met. And oblivious too! He never picked up on any of her subtle hints to get him to shut up! She really didn’t want to be rude, because his friendship looked great on her, but wow. No wonder he didn’t have any friends. No wonder Gabriel was so protective of him. If he wasn’t cute...his personality was like a wet sock. 

And he was weird. Weird mannerisms, weird speech pattern, just weird. Hopefully she could either get used to it, or Adrien would get a clue to stop being so obnoxious. 

Finally, she reached her apartment. 

“Home mom!” She called. 

There was laughter in the kitchen. Her mother had a guest. While not uncommon, there was just a hint of dread that hung in the air. 

Lila walked to the kitchen, only to see Adrien sitting at the table, talking to her mother! How?! How did he beat her here?! How did he know where she lived?! What the hell was he doing?!

“Adrien?” Lila gawked. 

He rubbed his head awkwardly. “Sorry for popping in uninvited. I just...I was worried about you! You’ve been akumatized twice, and I didn’t want it to happen again since you were fired.” 

Lila’s face paled as her mother gave her a stern look. 

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, Missy. I didn’t know you were modeling. And you never told me about being akumatized!” 

Adrien gasped. “Oh no! She didn’t tell you? I’m so sorry! I didn’t know that was a secret! I won’t say anymore!” 

“Any more?” Mrs. Rossi asked. “There’s more?” 

“Adrien.” Lila bit, in warning. 

“Well...I mean, you knew she was meeting with my father right? Something about being his muse?” 

Mrs. Rossi looked horrified. “What! You were talking to a grown adult man?! Were these visits supervised?!” 

Lila opened her mouth to answer, but Plagg beat her to it. “I don’t think so. Father is a very private person.” 

“Lila Giselle Rossi! You are sooo grounded! No offense to your father, Adrien, but meeting up with an adult man, unsupervised? And to what, be his muse? What does that even mean? It sounds gross!” 

“I swear nothing happened! He just wanted my opinion-”

“On what? What reason would he have to ask a 14 year old’s opinion?”

Plagg winced and looked at Lila. “I’m so sorry, Lila. I came here to help, but...” 

Lila shook with rage. Her mother was a complete pushover and believed everything she said. Now Adrien had sewn the seeds of distrust in her and she wouldn’t get away with any white lies ever again. 

“You’re dead,” She mouthed at Plagg. 

“Adrien, thank you for coming here and telling me all of this. I’m very grateful. But I think it’s best if you head home now. Lila has some chores to do.” 

“I understand, Madam Rossi. Again, I’m really sorry...I just wanted to help.” 

“Oh don’t worry, you did. This is for Lila’s own good.” 

He sheepishly looked to her. “See you tomorrow?” 

Her eye twitched. “Yeah.” 

And Plagg swiftly walked from the apartment, concealing his evil laughter until he got to the door. 

—

The next day at school, Marinette, along with Tikki and Adrien in her bag, arrived at school just a few minutes before the bell rang. 

Plagg was sitting at the front of the room, wearing a Pikachu onesie, and looking absolutely devastated. Nino sat next to him and had a hand over his face, doing his best to conceal whatever emotion he had. 

Everyone else in the room was avoiding them like they had the plague. 

Alya spotted her and came quickly, looping an arm through hers and escorting them out into the hall. “Girl, big news. I know you love Adrien, so this is going to be a blow. But here’s the thing...Lila told us this morning that Adrien came to her house yesterday and told her mom about her modeling job. Apparently, her mom didn’t want her working, and got upset that Lila lied. Adrien’s been insisting that it wasn’t on purpose, but everyone is kind of pissed at him anyway.” 

Marinette said nothing, but bit her lip. She knew that this absolutely was on purpose. 

“I’ll leave your actions up to you, but people are pretty mad at Adrien. Just letting you know.” 

“Who’s side are you taking?” 

Alya scoffed. “None. I’m staying out of this. Both people are in the right. Obviously Sunshine just wanted to prevent her from being akumatized. He was with her all day yesterday. It’s admirable, really.” 

“It is.” Marinette said with a smile. Though she was smiling for a completely different reason. There were no akumatizations anymore. Everyone was safe now. 

“We better get back in there, class will start soon.” 

So they returned. Miss Bustier was in, and ready to begin the lesson. 

Then Plagg raised his hand. 

“Yes Adrien?” 

“Before we start class, I want to say something.” 

“Go ahead, Adrien. The floor is yours.” 

He stood, and looked to Lila in the back of the room. “Lila, I know I apologized yesterday, but I’m really really sorry about outing you to your mom. I had no idea she didn’t know about your rendezvous with my father. I was just really scared that you were going to become akumatized, and I didn’t want that to happen. My friends are all important to me, and losing you would be like ripping out a piece of my heart. Could you ever forgive me?” 

Marinette glanced Nino’s face, which twitched to hide a smile. Then she looked at Lila, who looked calm, but her hands were balled into fists. 

After many breathless minutes, Lila smiled slightly. “I understand, Adrien. Of course you’re still my friend. I treasure you too! I’m sorry I got so mad.” 

“Hugs?” Plagg raised his arms. 

Lila could pretend to be happy and calm, but the paling of her skin could not be hidden. “Hugs!” 

Plagg brought her in for a squeeze, and the class ‘aww’ed at their make up. 

Except Nino, who let out the tiniest snort. 

Marinette flicked open her purse to look at Adrien. He mimed a gagging gesture back. 

And then Plagg took those last couple steps and joined Lila on her bench. No one tried to stop him. No one spoke up and said, “hey, maybe you should give her some space anyway.” 

They just all let poor, socially awkward Adrien push boundaries and take his seat. Because he had apologized so earnestly for trying to help. And she had forgiven him. So everything was fine now. 

Right?

As the lesson started, Marinette paid attention to the teacher. But occasionally, she’d hear the faintest whispers of Adrien’s voice (Plagg’s voice now). 

“...so it’s commonly believed that the Nord’s came from Atmora with Ysgramor, but they believe that they settled Skyrim, so they’re kind of racist to everyone else. But also, the Empire came in out of nowhere and tried to upheave their way of life, and even told them which Gods they were allowed to worship. High King Torygg was playing cordial with the Aldmeri Dominion, and some of the other Jarl’s didn’t like that. So Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Whiterun shouted him to death. Just like the Dragonborn can. Though it’s never explained why he knows how to do this. So this started a whole civil war…” 

Marinette chanced a glance behind her, and noticed that Lila had her head in her hands, and she looked absolutely miserable.

[worldwidemochiguy]

After I Saw You (Namjoon x Reader)

➵ Even though Namjoon takes such good care of you, you can’t help but worry about something. But it turns out Namjoon knows you better than you think...

➵ Word Count: 1.3K

➵ Part One here

➵ Masterlist

You peck Namjoon on a dimpled cheek, your heart in your throat as you watch him stroll down the gravel driveway, disappearing off to work in the swish of a black Mercedes. There’s nothing he’s done wrong, but… you have an awful lot on your mind these days. 

Since you started living with Namjoon, you have shifted onto online classes, finishing your degree virtually, and Namjoon has even started tutoring you in Korean amidst dishes of rice and kimchi as the two of you eat dinner together. Every facet of your life had slid into place seamlessly… except one. 

Since you’re no longer working, you have no income. No money to send back home. And even if you could somehow earn enough money, you don’t know how you could possibly send it. 

You have barely set foot out of Namjoon’s sprawling mansion, letting it protect you from the rest of the world. And, consequently, shutting out your only remaining family, the ones who still need protection.

If your mother doesn’t have the money to support her addiction, will she finally attempt to stay sober like she promised all those times? Or will she instead stop buying food for Milo, your brother? Will she make him walk all the miles to school instead of paying for the bus? 

The thought of Milo, barely seven years old, trudging to school alone every morning in the cold is enough to crack your heart in two. One side devoted to Namjoon and thankful for all he’s done for you, and the other, larger and bleeding as it tries to continue pulsing, devoted to your baby brother. 

Once the clock reaches midmorning, you have made your decision. You have to betray Namjoon’s trust, if only to help Milo. 

You creep into Namjoon’s study, hoping there’s no sensor that could somehow alert him to your unauthorised presence. The study seems to be more of a library than anything else, books neatly tucked into uniform shelves, a desk in the centre of the room, framed by a houseplant and a tastefully appointed floor-standing lamp. And on that desk… a computer.

Maybe you can find a way to access your old bank account from his computer and send money that way? The guilt curling into your stomach at the thought of betraying Namjoon is inconsequential compared to your desire to help Milo in any way you can.

But, as soon as you switch the computer on, fingers darting impatiently over the age-worn keys, an email alert pops up. An email from the child protective services.

Dear Mr Kim,

We are so thankful you brought this to our attention. Mrs L/n has been taken to the best rehabilitation centre in the country, as per your request, and the money you so generously donated will all be put towards helping her recovery. 

Milo has been adopted by a very kind family, who shall receive the monthly stipend you arranged, as well as the money you placed into a trust for him for when he comes of age. We thank you again for your astounding generosity, and hope we receive the privilege of your patronage for many years to come.

You blink, your eyes painfully dry after staring at the screen for a solid five minutes. Namjoon… has taken care of everything. For you. And he hasn’t even attempted to seek recognition for his deeds, he has just… done it. Because he loves you. 

And you think, finally, you might have fallen in love with him too.

After hours of waiting, the door finally clicks open.

And, after hours of waiting, you might be a tad overexcited to see him.

So excited that you leap into his arms.

He immediately drops his expensive briefcase, letting it clatter on the floor as his arms come up to support your thighs as they wrap around his waist. You don’t even notice his hands on you, you’re so focused on dotting as many kisses on his face as you can.

“Hey, baby,” Namjoon laughs, leaning his head back slightly so he can speak, “This is the furthest thing from a complaint but… what’s happening?” 

“I love you.” You inform him, a brief moment of seriousness before you go back to attacking him with your lips. 

“Wh- hey, wait, what?” 

“I love you.” You repeat, and Namjoon lets out an incredulous laugh, even as his hands tighten on you. 

“You- and- you just decided it today?!” 

Namjoon’s voice is edged with hysteria. It’s the most unsettled he’s ever allowed himself to be around you so you sober up slightly and attempt to slip out of his arms. But Namjoon won’t let go. 

“…why?” 

For once, Namjoon is the one who doesn’t know what’s going on. 

“I saw the email from child protective services. It was… thanking you for helping my mother and my brother. They were very grateful. And I am too.” 

“Oh,” Namjoon sags, gently letting you down onto the floor, sounding — for some indiscernible reason — disappointed, “Baby, you shouldn’t feel obligated to say it because I-“ 

“No,” You place a finger on his lips, preventing him from continuing. “If you were about to assume that the reason I’m saying it now is because I feel indebted to you, then you should stop talking before you say something really stupid for the first time in your life.” 

His lips twitch in a smile beneath your finger, the hint of a dimple poking into his cheek for a millisecond. You dart in and kiss the spot where it appeared. “I love you because you’re kind, and generous, and so humble that you wouldn’t even tell me what you’d done because you didn’t want to be praised.” 

The dimple has now sunk fully into his cheek, like pure affection leaking into the skin, and his eyes are shining as they gaze down at you, holding all the love you never dreamed you would be lucky enough to receive. 

“I love you because you feel the need to take care of everyone around you. Even a weird foreign student sitting on the sidewalk outside a diner.” 

He laughs again, and you tuck that sound into your heart, give it it’s own little corner, tell it this is what love sounds like. You remove your finger from his lips and he leans in and- 

It’s the first kiss you’ve shared between the two of you, a whispered little secret, but it feels like you have already felt the smooth touch of his lips a thousand times. 

His kisses are saying thank you, I love you, you’re the most important thing in the world to me. And he’s said that to you so many times before, as he strokes your hair back, as he gives you one of his favourite books and tells you you’ll like it, as he saves you from getting stung by a nettle in the garden. 

He has loved you so gently, for so long, and you can’t believe how much time it took to realise you had heard each of those confessions and replied with one of your own. A blushing smile. A whispered thank you. A sleepless night spent thumbing through pages and soaking in the rhythm of something Namjoon loves. 

He kisses you like you have all the time in the world, like you have already lived through it all and there’s still an eternity left, and you close your eyes, and wish with all your heart that you can go on loving this man for forever. 

[something-tofightfor]

Seasons to Cycles / 4

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 10,760

Rating: M (Some language, mentions of sex and drug use)

Summary:  Logan’s got an invitation for you - but is it what it seems? Is it real, or is he looking for something in particular?  Later, both halves of his life come together in an unexpected - but not entirely unwanted - way. 

Author’s Note: Here’s where things start to get very interesting. I hope this chapter answers some questions for you ... but it’s also going to raise new ones. Song lyrics come into play in this one, too, which is what I’ve been waiting for. 

 Enjoy. (Thank you for the feedback!)

ALSO.

A couple people have asked about Logan’s apartment and Juliet’s house, so here are the listings I’m using as reference:  Logan’s High Rise

Juliet’s House

I had one for reader’s studio apartment, too, but apparently it’s not for rent anymore, so it’s not showing. Sorry! 

From the 46th story of Two California Plaza, Logan looked out over the city. It always took him a day or two to get used to being back in the office after trips to the parks, and the abrupt end to the most recent trip had made it worse than usual. But I’m happy to be home. He leaned back in his chair, one arm bent and behind his head, and smiled. At least the weather’s good. He’d been surprised to return to his room at the Mesa and find multiple messages waiting from Ariella, one of them apologizing for the way that she’d acted before she’d left his place - but even more surprised to see a rambling message from you, sent in the middle of the week. She’s curious about the parks and the Hosts.

He’d called his fiancée back, for once ahead of her in time zones, and while the conversation had been fast, the woman on her way to meet with her parents, it hadn’t been unpleasant. But that’s probably because I haven’t looked into what she got up to in Amsterdam yet. Logan hadn’t called you back, though, and he hadn’t returned your text, either. But why? 

 Standing, he pushed away from his desk and began pacing in front of his window, one hand in his pocket and the fingers of the other running through his hair. I wanted to. He had. In fact, he’d thought of you a lot while in the park, his usual distractions occupying less and less of his mind as the days passed. He’d sought out Clementine, not having to look far once they’d arrived in Sweetwater, and spent the night with her before setting out with his business partners the following day. Logan had timed the arrival so that just as they were leaving, Hector and his bandits were arriving, and though that had given him something else to focus on, by the time the four of them had reached Las Mudas as a stopover on their way to Pariah, you were on Logan’s mind again, remaining there for the entirety of the remainder of the ride out to the hidden city.

 The men and women in Pariah were more than willing to accommodate his requests, and the time they spent there was pleasant. Logan let loose and drank heavily, the sweet-smelling air perfumed by the spices sold by the street vendors wafting in through his open windows and keeping him awake long after his chosen partners had drifted off. Hasn’t always been that way. The first time, it was … I wore myself out. 

 Pariah was Logan’s favorite area in the park, because the overall tone suited him, but each time he returned to Westworld, he also remembered what it felt like to be appointed as one of the leaders of the Confederados, the men listening to him without question, following his orders even though they made little sense. Because it’s like it is out there. Just less...real. Even that train of thought led him back to you, though it didn’t happen until he’d read your message and was already back on his way to Los Angeles. Why am I thinkin’ about this? 

 He stopped moving, pulling his hand from his pocket and settling both on his hips, elbows bent. “You’re the boss, Logan. Act like it.” But he lowered his head, hair moving out of place and falling over one eye. “Shit.” He straightened up, eyes narrowed. Get it together. You have a meeting in an hour, and the rest of your week is … But instead of sitting back down at his desk to read through notes, a few minutes later, Logan was sitting beneath one of the permanent umbrellas on California Plaza, his phone in hand, and your number on the screen. He only hesitated for a few seconds before he called, wondering if he’d catch you on a break again, or you’d push him through to voicemail. After two rings, he got his answer. 

 “Logan, hi!” Your tone excited, you greeted him, and he felt a smile spreading over his lips and lifting his cheeks before he could stop it. “Did you have a good trip?” She sounds happy to hear from me.

 “I did.” He leaned back in that chair, eyes on the fountains in front of him. “Got your text.” 

 “Oh, Logan, I shouldn’t have -” Embarrassed? No reason to be.

 “Are you at work now, I hope I’m not -” You assured him that it was fine, and that you were taking a long lunch. “The only way to answer that would be to let you meet Hosts, you know?” He licked his lips, thinking. “An’ it’s different for everyone, so I don’t know how you’d… what you’d think of them.” That was the truth, and though it wasn’t difficult for Logan and Juliet to tell the difference, he knew - all too well - that it wasn’t the case for everyone. “If you were in one of the parks -”

 “You and your sister, Logan. Both of you keep trying to get me into those damn parks when I …” You were laughing. “I’m not the type of person you need to impress, I’m just curious.” 

 “Jules wants you to go to the park?” It was his turn to laugh. Doesn’t surprise me. “Well then you know it must be -” 

 “Maybe in another lifetime, Logan.” You took a deep breath and he pictured the way your shoulders would settle, the subtle tilt of your head. “What did you call for, though? That didn’t answer my …” Maybe she doesn’t need to be in the parks to… He leaned forward, thinking. It would be easy, I can ask… 

 “I’m gonna work late tomorrow.” He stood, heading back for the entrance. “Get some extra shit done, but if you want to stop by the office after you’re out of work, I can answer your question in person?” It was unnecessary, but the seed was planted. “We’ve got a restaurant on-site, so we can get somethin’ to eat, and have a working dinner.” I want to see you, want to see how you… 

 “If you’re working late, it must mean you’re busy, and I don’t want to keep you from…” He heard the doubt creeping into your voice again, and Logan cut it off quickly, already in the elevator back up to his office. 

 “I’m the boss. It’s fine. Promise.” The doors opened to his floor, and Logan stepped in front of his office, leaning down to let the small camera scan his eye, the door unlocking almost immediately. “I’ll text you a visitor’s parking pass, and if you let me know when you get here, I’ll meet you in the lobby.” 

 “Sounds good. Is it alright if I get there around…” You thought for a second. “Five? It should only take me about twenty five minutes, so …” 

 “Perfect.” He was sitting at his desk, fingers flying over the keyboard and he sent you the pass, and again after, as he opened up a blank email. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

 “Yep.” He could tell you were smiling, and Logan smiled again, too. “I’ll be there.” There wasn’t much else to say, and so you hung up shortly after, Logan’s lips still curved upward. This is either going to go really well, or it’s going to backfire on me. 

 --- 

 He met you in the lobby the following afternoon, standing back a few feet while you spoke with Cal, one of the receptionists. One. Your interaction with the man was pleasant but nothing special, and Logan watched you grin at him, reaching out to take the visitor’s badge in one hand. He called out your name, striding over to where you were standing, using one hand to clip the piece of plastic to the strap of your bag. “Logan this place is amazing.” It is. 

 “Didn’t always look like this.” He touched your elbow, guiding you through the lobby. “My father wasn’t a fan of the open plan, wanted everything to feel… intimidating, so when Juliet and I took over, we made some changes. She did, first. Then I… “You’re right though, this is much better.” He eyed you as you took in the tall ceilings and artwork, the sculptures and the fountains; the clear liquid splashing onto the marble tile of the floor and dripping into the recessed drains. “You look tired.” He finally took a good look at you when you stepped into the elevator, Logan typing in his code for access to the lower floors. “Long day at work?” You closed your eyes and nodded. 

 “Yeah, I work in admissions, like I said, so we’re in kind of a … slow spot right now, but the entire system went down this morning, and so I spent my entire shift doing data entry, and I …” You rubbed your eyes with both hands. “My eyes hurt.” He grinned at that, but didn’t say anything. “Thanks, though, for pointing out that -” 

 “Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that you don’t look…” He paused. “Alright, yeah, that does make me sound like a dick.” That got you to laugh, and by the time the two of you stepped out into the entryway, Logan was laughing with you. “We’re not goin’ into my office yet. Follow me.” You looked confused, but Logan was eager to show you the first part of the reason he’d invited you to Delos. “This is somethin’ most people don’t ever get to see.” He pressed his hand against a panel next to a set of glass doors, a green light illuminating and the panes separating. “An’ it’s not …” Should I be doing this? “You’ll see.” 

 “Logan, what …” You were right next to him, and though the hall was well lit, the rooms you were passing weren’t, most of them completely dark. “I feel like we’re in a …” But you stopped speaking as you reached the end of the hallway, where the room was well lit. Here we go. “Logan…” He heard it in your voice - the moment you realized where you were and what you were doing, and only a second later, felt your fingers closing around his wrist. “Are those …” 

 “They are.” Only glass separated you from the man and woman in the room, the two of them dancing in a slow circle. “We’re workin’ on a new … project. It’s not a park, and it’s not on the island, so …” He looked over, expecting you to be focused on the window, but instead you were staring up at him, eyes full of shock. She’s lookin’ at me instead of… “So they’re here. Some of ‘em. We’re trying to…” 

 “Logan, they look so much like people, how …” You finally tore your eyes away from him and took a half step closer to the glass, fingers still circling his wrist. “This is …” He remembered what it had been like to see the Hosts for the first time, to speak to them, to touch them - feeling the way that they filled the room at the penthouse bar, Logan only realizing what was happening as Angela giggled and lifted her finger. It was incredible. And it still is. “She’s beautiful, Logan.” You had one hand on the glass and you finally let go of him with the other, reaching up to press your fingertips to your cheek, slowly moving them up and down. 

 “She is. When they design the hosts, they model ‘em off a composite of actual people.” He leaned closer to you, not wanting to raise his voice. “So some of them? You’ll look at them, and it’s close enough that you might think ‘oh, he’s got Timberlake’s eyes, or Skarsgard’s lips… or she’s got Keira Knightly’s…” 

 “Did you just give me a list of the people you find attractive, Logan?” You nudged him with your elbow. “Or are you telling me that I could go into the park and find someone as -” Always listening to what’s between the … 

 “We make ‘em so that they appeal to people.” He set his shoulders, eyes back on the couple, the man and woman still dancing, but laughing at the same time, one of his hands combing through her long, wavy hair. “So yeah, sometimes they pull features from real people, just to… make things more lifelike.” Logan took a breath. “We gotta get permission from them, of course, and even then, the techs change things like eye color or birthmarks, or …” He shrugged. “A lot of the Hosts are entirely new, but we’ve got hundreds of them in each park, and with this project, we need to …”

 “You need to keep things familiar, because this…” You pulled your hand away from the glass, taking a deep breath. “Logan, I’ll be honest with you right now, I’m just looking at them, and it’s hard to believe that they’re real, that this … exists. Any of it. It’s overwhelming. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in one of the parks, surrounded by …” 

 “It’s a fuckin’ trip.” You turned to face him, though he watched your eyes dart back to the left before they focused on him. “Every time, even though I know none of it is real.” He watched your lips tremble slightly, and Logan contemplated his next words. How much do I … “It only gets as real as you let it, and the parks are designed so that the Hosts can’t really hurt you, but if you forget that - and it’s easy to, sometimes - it can get… pretty goddamn wild.” 

 “I bet.” You swallowed and turned your head back toward the window, not saying anything else, and Logan watched you, eyes roaming over your profile. You weren’t reacting the way that he’d thought you would. He hadn’t expected you to flip out, or talk his ear off, but he wasn’t expecting the almost stoic silence, either. Is she not impressed? Is she … “Why are you showing this to me, Logan?” You took a deep breath. “There aren’t supposed to be Hosts in the United States, Delos signed a -” She’s lookin’ into us? 

 “We did. And technically, these Hosts aren’t in the United States, because they’re confined to this building, to specific floors, and if they leave? They cross the barriers?” He reached out cautiously, knowing that you could see the movement, and when you didn’t stop him, he laid one fingertip at the base of your neck, pressing gently. “They’ve got implants, and… boom.” He felt you shiver, watching your eyes close. Is that causea the… “They keep a close eye on ‘em, too, and the only people that know they’re here are the ones we trust.” 

 “So why am I here?” You turned your entire body to face him, and because the movement shocked him, Logan’s hand moved along the side of your throat and over your shoulder before he could pull it back. Fuck. The contact stunned him, leaving him speechless for the span of two breaths. Oh, fuck, that’s not … He watched the look in your eyes change, realizing that you hadn’t meant for it to happen either, his touch visibly affecting you, and then Logan spoke again, the tiniest wavering of his voice audible. 

 “Because you asked how real they were, an’ the only way to explain it is to show you.” He drew his hand back, sliding it smoothly into his pocket and gesturing with the other toward the glass. “And this is nothing. It’s different when you’re talkin’ to them, or you’re in bed with them, or you shoot one of them, an’ watch them fall, or when they…” He stopped himself. “But.” Logan sucked air through his teeth before letting out his breath. “At least you’ve seen ‘em now, yeah?” You nodded. “An’ I know you won’t say anything about this, because ...” Because I trust you already, and that’s… “Because I think you wanna be my friend, and you know that …”

 “Who would I tell, Logan?” Your eyes were shining. “I never thought I’d…” You looked back, the male Host dipping the female backwards, one of his hands rising to the side of her face, thumb skating over the fullest part of her cheek. “Jesus.” It was impressive - he had to admit it. The Hosts had come a long way in the years since his first private demonstration, and Logan was glad for it. They’re gonna be the only thing that gets me through… He shook his head briefly. Not now. “I won’t say a word, Logan, I promise.” You reached toward him, squeezing his hand and Logan let you, eyes flicking down so that he could watch as you gripped his fingers briefly, not even giving him a chance to squeeze back before you let go. “Thank you for showing me.” 

 That shocked him - not that you’d thanked him, because he’d figured you would, but that you accepted the short viewing of the Hosts as the extent of what he was offering, and hadn’t pushed further. I guess I kind of expected that, too. And it means that I was … “You’re welcome.” Logan’s mind was racing, the man trying to keep up with his thoughts. “D’you wanna go back upstairs now? I meant what I said about havin’ dinner. You can ask questions, or …” 

 “I don’t even know what I’d ask, Logan. I wasn’t expecting … this, and now I …” But you haven’t even … “But yes. Let’s go back up.” We should. “You said there’s a cafeteria? I didn’t actually get to eat lunch today, so -” 

 “Come on, then. Let’s get you some food.” And get to the second part of this. 

 --- 

 The cafeteria - like the rest of Delos - was sleek and modern, wide open, with windows that overlooked the city, and you felt yourself smile as you looked around, more than a few other people still in the space. I’m surprised there’s… 

 But the more you thought about it, the more you weren’t that shocked. Delos was a 24/7 company, employees working around the clock in different departments. And based on what I just saw, it makes perfect sense. Logan showing you the two Hosts had been a total surprise, and you’d been in awe at how lifelike they were - barely a few feet away from you, focused on each other like a couple in love, their mannerisms - from what you could tell - no different than your own would have been. “You’re not even listenin’.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts and focused back on Logan, the man leaning across the table and toward you. “And I thought I was interesting.” Oh, you are, Logan. I just … 

 “Did you have a good trip? Juliet told me one of your guests got sick, so you came back early.”

 “I did. It was niceta get back into the park, and …” He grinned, winking and taking a long drink. “Have some fun.” Can I ask? Should I ask? You wanted to, wanted to know Logan’s take on things, and with a deep inhale, you decided to do just that. “Logan.” You bit your lip, blinking. “When you say fun, do you mean -” 

 “Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “That’s exactly what I mean. Along with some shooting and fighting and …” Ok, so he answered that. But will he… 

 “So when you go into the park, you …” You raised an eyebrow. “Sleep with the -”

 “Not doin’ much sleeping, usually.” He winked at you, but you didn’t let it deter you. You’re not gonna get me that easily, Logan. 

 “Ok, so that’s my next question.” You took a drink from the cup in front of you. “So you don’t consider that cheating then? Since you’ve got a fiancée, and yet you still…” 

 “No.” There was no shame in the reply, Logan’s eyes locked onto your face. “It’s not cheating if they’re not real. And they’re not real, no matter how real they look or feel or act, so…” He ran a hand through his hair. “The Hosts are one of the only habits I haven’t broken yet, an’ between you and me?” He leaned in, tone serious. “Out of all of ‘em, it’s the safest.” You’re right. You widened your eyes as he spoke, but tried to hide it. He… Sex with the Hosts presented very few risks to Logan - or his reputation. The parks weren’t traceable, and there was no chance of getting any of them pregnant - or catching anything from them in return. They can’t hurt him, they can’t start any rumors, and there’s no … there’s no permanence. “Any other questions?” 

 He was resting an elbow on the table, chin atop his hand. So many. But before you could speak, you heard someone say his name, turning your head to watch a man heading toward your table. Oh, this will be awkward, he’ll have to introduce me. “Logan! Good to see you, I didn’t realize you were back.” Logan straightened up, grinning. “Who’s this?” 

 “Hey, Gideon.” Logan nodded once. “This is my friend.” He introduced you, and there wasn’t even time for you to say anything before the man was holding his hand out to you, saying hello. “She had a couple questions about the parks, and I figured it was easier to talk in person.” He gestured to the chair. “Sit with us?” You were focused on the second man, though, eyes on his face and on the warmth you saw in his eyes; green tinged with blue and gold. He’s… The man was attentive, repeating your name even as he removed his hand from yours and dropped into the chair next to you. “What have you been up to?” 

 You watched the two of them speak, both animated as they continued their conversation, turning toward you every now and then to include you. They must be friends, this is … Taking their conversation as an opportunity to observe, you eyed Gideon, smiling as the man reached up to scratch his chin, never looking away from Logan. He’s handsome. You realized it after only a few moments, letting yourself eye the man without restraint. Really handsome, I wonder if all of the employees are … But your thoughts were interrupted by Logan asking you a question, and you pulled your attention away from Gideon, focusing back on the other man. “What? No. I’ve only been to Juliet’s that one time, aside from when you and I went.” I was paying attention, Logan. I might have been watching Gideon, but… “She invited me back out to use the pool again, but so far, no.” 

 “You’ve never invited me out to swim at your sister’s Logan.” Gideon was laughing, and though he spoke to Logan, he was eyeing you. “And you’ve already gotten a callback?” He winked at you, grin widening. “You’ve got to tell me your secrets, about how you won Juliet over so fast.” Logan remained quiet, but as you glanced at him, you saw that he was watching the two of you, barely concealing the smile on his face. But if he’s friends with Logan, wouldn’t… 

 “No secrets, Gideon.” You shrugged, taking a bite out of your burger. “But it is a nice pool.” The man laughed loudly, eyes closing as he nodded. 

 “Fair enough.” He rested his forearm on the table, leaning slightly closer. “Logan said you have some questions about the parks?” You said yes, once again glancing at Logan. I’m almost positive this guy is hitting on me, but … “Maybe I can answer. Logan’s got the money and the power, but I work in Asset Development, so I’m much more … hands on, if you know what I mean.” His boldness took you by surprise, but as you thought about his words, you realized that if he was hitting on you, he was doing it without worry. Logan’s engaged, of course he wouldn’t care that someone was … 

 But even as you continued the conversation with the two men, Gideon supplying answers when Logan couldn’t, the man asking you questions and inviting you to visit him in his office sometime to talk more, you were slightly distracted. But Logan said …  when we were in the apartment, that he liked me … he tried to … You looked back and forth between both of them, trying to keep a neutral expression, and then focused on Gideon’s face. Logan’s too calm. There’s no way that he would … Gideon scratched his chin again and you sucked in a breath, trying to keep it quiet. Not only me, he was basically hitting on Juliet, too, and Logan wouldn’t… there’s no way that … Not if it was real. “Logan.” You whispered  the single word, locking your eyes on the man’s, finding that he was staring at you. “Logan.” 

 “That’s enough, Gideon.” The second man stopped speaking, and Logan continued. “All that we need is too close to be seen.” Without another word, Gideon stood and turned away from the table, heading back in the direction that he’d come from. What the fuck. “You figured it out.” Logan leaned closer, a note of pride in his voice. “How?” 

 “He was a…” Logan nodded. “I thought I was …” But Logan didn’t speak, only watching you quietly. “It was mostly you, Logan. He didn’t do anything, not really, but you … your reaction to him hitting on Juliet and... The way you just sat back and watched? You said it’s never real, and I think that if he’d really been doing that, in front of you? And including me? You wouldn’t have been so calm.” Maybe. He looked surprised at your words, but nodded. 

 “So I gave it away?” You did, but … “Gideon’s one of our newest. We use him as a test subject. He does work in Asset Management, but he’s going to be something else down the line.” So he let me meet a … he introduced me to … “Are you alright?” Logan’s hand moved as if he wanted to touch yours, but he stopped short. “I shouldn’t have …”

 “No, I’m....” You shook your head, lowering it. “I just wasn’t expecting to…” Bringing your gaze back up, you met Logan’s eyes once more. “He scratched his chin a few times, Logan, I caught that. And his eyes were … I’ve never seen eyes like that, especially on someone that seemed like -” But you stopped, not wanting to finish your sentence. I don’t need him to think I’m reading more into this. 

 “Seemed what?” But it wasn’t going to be that easy, Logan still talking quietly. “You gotta tell me.” 

 “I’ve never been hit on by a guy that looks like that.” You gestured in the direction that the man had gone. “But it felt real, so I… went with it.” 

 “Yeah you have.” He gave you a quick smile. “Because I’m pretty sure that I’ve -”

 “You don’t count, Logan. You’re practically married, so… you flirting might be honest, but it’s not going to …” It’s not going to lead anywhere. I don’t know what’s worse - the robot blatantly doing it that could have led to … or Logan, who can’t … “Wait, you were hitting on me?” You rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood. “You must be losing your touch, because I -” 

 “Oh, shut up. You know I was.” It was Logan’s turn to take a drink, watching you from over the rim of his glass. “So what did you think? Cal an’ the two in the basement, and Gideon?” Cal? You mean the receptionist? “Yeah, he’s a Host, too. Like I said, we’re rotating the new Hosts through different positions, just to make sure that they can integrate into real situations, when it comes time.” He’s telling me their future plans like I… “So you’ve talked to two of ‘em, touched two of them.” I did, they were … they felt like … “And?” 

 “And … what?” You were confused, overstimulated, still in disbelief that because of a chance encounter, you’d gotten an opportunity to - in person - see and feel the Delos Hosts. “I had no idea at first, Logan. Is that how it is in the parks? Are -”

 “No, they’re dialed back here. They have to be. The parks are meant to be … real, but still over the top. I can’t explain it. They’re tryin’ to get your attention from the second you step offa the train. It’s all a come-on, and everyone’s got a part to play. But here? They gotta fit in, blend in. There, you know that you’re interacting with them a lot of times, but here, you can’t know. 

 “Well they fooled me, Logan. Both of them, I -”

 “Not entirely, though.” He looked slightly worried. “You said you noticed Gideon scratching -”

 “Only because I was already focused on the way you were acting, Logan. Without you right here, I probably wouldn’t have …” Stop talking. The more you say, the more he’s… Logan wasn’t an idiot, and you knew that you’d likely already said too much. The look in his eyes confirmed your suspicions, and the next words he said solidified them. 

 “So you could tell I wasn’t… acting like myself?” You thought about lying to him - for a split second - making up an excuse that wouldn’t make it seem as if you were trying to read into his behavior - and then you didn’t. 

 “I could. Especially with Juliet. I don’t think any man would have the balls to talk about her like that in front of you.” You took a breath. “And I guess, Logan, that I don’t really think you’d just casually try to pawn me off on someone that I don’t -”

 “You’re right.” He chewed on his lower lip for a few seconds. “On both counts, actually. The last person that … disrespected Juliet in front of me? He got what he deserved. Eventually.” You watched Logan’s eyes go cold, lip curling slightly. That’s a sore subject. “And you? You’re damn right that I wouldn’t just sit back and... “ He stopped himself and you felt your heart thud, though you knew it was pointless. He’s just being a good friend. “But a Host?” Logan let out a long breath, closing his eyes and smirking for a few seconds. “They’re built to be fuckin’ irresistable, so…” One eyebrow raised, Logan finished his sentence. “It’s not a problem.” 

 “So wait a second.” You took another bite, needing a few seconds. “Does that mean that if Ariella were to go to the parks, you wouldn’t bat an eye at seeing -”

 “Nope.” He lifted a forkful of pasta salad to his lips, and when he’d swallowed, he spoke. “And I know that a lot of people think that’s bullshit, but as long as you know it’s not real? It makes it a hell of a lot easier to let your guard down, to look at it objectively.” 

 “What do you mean?” I get it, I think, but … “You could just watch her go off with one of them, knowing that -”

 “I could. I have.” He took another long swallow of his drink. “And not just Hosts, either.” That’s… wait, what? “Everyone’s got a history, right? With people, you never know what the fuck the other person’s doing; where they’ve been or who they’ve been with. With the parks? Every Host gets taken offline and cleaned up between Guest encounters, so it doesn’t matter. We’ve gotta protect the people in the parks, and we’ve gotta do what’s right. There’s no risk. No diseases, no pregnancies, no attachments.” His words echoed your earlier thoughts, but Logan continued. “I could take you right now, to where Gideon is, and bring him back online completely. He’d start the conversation with you where it left off. You guys could do whatever, and then go your separate ways… but the next time he met you? He might not remember it, depending on what we’ve had him doing between. To him, it’s like nothin’ happened, when we reset him, even though it did.”

“Logan, that -” 

 “It’s safe. It’s smart. It’s efficient. Think about how many relationships could be saved if people went and fucked Hosts instead of real people? Think about how many fewer problems there’d be, people blowin’ off steam by goin’ to bed with -” He swore, cutting himself off, muttering under his breath. “D’you wanna do that? Go find Gideon, or maybe even Cal? Have some… we’ve got private rooms here, in the building, you could -” Why is he… why does he think I… 

 “No, Logan.” You narrowed your eyes. “Gideon was good looking, but that doesn’t mean that I … it doesn’t matter that he’s a Host, I’ve spoken to him for fifteen minutes, and I -” You paused. “That would have been like you and I fucking in the Whole Foods parking lot with that damn ice cream melting in your trunk.” He snorted at that, giving you a look that you couldn’t quite read. I don’t know what’s going on right now, but this isn’t the same… he’s thinking about something different, something … “It would be different if I was in a park, Logan, and we’d known each other for a couple minutes, because that’s … that’s what it’s supposed to be like. But out here? This is real life. I can’t just get back on a train and leave, it…” You’re explaining this really poorly. 

 “Aren’t you curious? You’ve seen ‘em. Felt them, talked with them. Don’t you want to -”

 “Of course I’m curious, Logan, but that doesn’t mean … this is a lot to think about. I -”

 “What do you think?” His tone changed again, Logan’s eyes once again filled with warmth. “You asked me if I thought it was cheating, fucking the Hosts in the park, but what do you -”

 “It’s not.” You wet your lips. “It would probably be hard the first time, to know that someone I cared about was probably in bed with someo… something else, to see it happen, even just watching y… them walk away with the Host, but it… yeah, for the duration, it’s real, but… fuck, Logan, if I’m paying $40,000 a day? If they are paying $40,000 a day? Fuck all the robots you want and get your money’s worth.” That got a laugh from Logan, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned. 

 “I’m offerin’ you, right now, the chance. No forty grand, no park, no … strings. You and onea those two, in a -”

 “No. Thank you, Logan, but no.” This is… are we really having this conversation? “If I’m going to sleep with one of the Hosts, I want it to be… the real circumstances, not just one basically hand delivered to me by the fucking CEO of the company that’s designing them.” And I don’t really want a Host, either, I… “What does that say about me, hmm?” You tilted your head to one side. “Need someone to play matchmaker for me, and the match isn’t even a real…” 

 “You don’t need me.” Logan interrupted. “I’m just in a position to offer you somethin’ you can’t refuse for a hell of a lot less than the going rate.” The playful tone was back in Logan’s voice, but you still heard some hesitation. What is … why? “Except you’re refusing it. Are you sure? Gideon’s a hell of a -”

 “I’m sure.” Though you were surprised to hear yourself reply so quickly, you were certain of your answer. “I appreciate it, but I…” You shrugged. “He might be designed to be perfect, but I’ll be honest and tell you he’s not what I usually go for.” You saw that Logan was surprised, but the man kept quiet, raising one hand and lifting his shoulder in a shrug. Not even close. 

 --- 

 The following weeks kept Logan busy with finalizing contracts, the man flying between LA and Boston for work multiple times. Though he kept in touch with you via text, you didn’t see each other again, and Logan thought that it was likely for the best. Because the last time she .. she gave me a lot to think about. 

 You’d picked up on his behavior both in front of the Host room and in the cafeteria, though you didn’t know him well. You’d paid more attention to him than to the Hosts that you’d been confronted with, even while Logan had seen you eyeing Gideon, almost in disbelief. And that was before she knew. It had been wrong of him to surprise you with so much information in so little time, but Logan had wanted to see your genuine reaction to the Hosts, and if he’d clued you in, it would have ruined everything. And she … she didn’t … 

 The disbelief he’d understood. Seeing and meeting them for the first time was special, even if their true potential wasn’t on display. But what he hadn’t understood was how quick you were to turn down the opportunity to get closer to either of the two men, though it was apparent that you understood the true stakes of the offer itself. She didn’t care. It wasn’t just about … the experience. You didn’t think that you’d ever make it to one of the parks, and were still willing to turn down the chance to take a Host to bed, no strings attached. Wish my fiancée was the same. 

 Your questions and comments about cheating, about the safety of being with Hosts had gotten to Logan, and though he knew that you had no idea about his relationship’s parameters, he’d been unable to stop thinking about what you’d said - and how you’d said it. She meant it. Really didn’t think I was honestly flirting with her, was surprised at me saying that I’ve watched Ariella… I’m sure she saw the way I reacted to talking about all those relationships. He swore under his breath, propping his feet up on the railing of the balcony. And then I tried to fucking get her to go off with … 

 The look in your eyes as he’d suggested you sleeping with one of the Hosts had surprised him the most. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you’d take the opportunity if presented with it under normal circumstances, but he’d put you on the spot, and he knew it. But she… Instead of agreeing out of shock and excitement, you’d turned his offer down repeatedly, providing him with legitimate explanations for your refusal. There was something she didn’t say, though. He lifted the beer bottle to his lips, taking a long drink as the LA skyline twinkled in front of him. Something she was thinking. If Gideon - or Cal - weren’t your type, then what was? There’s gotta be… 

 He’d told William once that the park managed to seduce everyone at some point, and while he’d been trying to make the man understand what he was in store for, Logan believed the words himself. The park, the Hosts, the stakes … it’s a lot. But she … she’s still...

 The more he got to know you, the more he wanted to understand. She’s not like … Logan’s mind drifted to his fiancée, and at the realization that she’d be back in Los Angeles within sixteen hours, Logan winced. Ariella woulda fucked them both, no questions asked. The woman had very few boundaries, and despite the fact that she was wearing a diamond he’d given her on her finger, that deficiency extended to the bedroom - and to her partners. She’s here for my dad’s party, and then we’ll have some meetings on Sunday with vendors, and then she’ll be gone again, and I … He rubbed a hand over his entire face, letting out a sigh. “Same fuckin’ thing.” 

 Staring up at the slowly darkening sky, Logan watched as the clouds moved across it, his mind racing. He truly didn’t care about the Host interactions, because that was what the parks were for. But each week that passed, each time he checked the woman’s private accounts, or his lawyers had to race to keep stories from leaking about her indiscretions, the amount that he cared about their future decreased, too. Might not be a traditional relationship, but goddamn, she could at least … He knew he was a catch - educated, wealthy, good looking - but Logan’s self esteem dropped each time he saw his fiancée, the woman barely lukewarm toward him, unless she knew the cameras were on. I was in bed with her more when we weren’t anything serious. Who would have … 

 Logan finished his drink and stood, striding back through the living room and into his kitchen, opening the drawer where Ariella had stashed the small container of drugs. I can’t believe this is … Setting the bottle down on the counter, he picked up the tin, turning it over in his fingers, a frown on his face. He felt the faint pull, deep in his chest, thinking about the days when he wouldn’t have thought twice about opening it and seeing what she’d left for him; carrying it into the master bathroom and dumping out a small mound of the white powder onto the back of his hand, covering one knuckle. It’d be easy. His fingers curled, the container solid in his hand. She might not even remember it’s here, so she wouldn’t know it’s gone. He lowered his head. Or maybe when she gets here, we can say fuck Jim’s party, and…

 But before that thought could continue, Juliet’s face - and then Emily’s flashed through his mind. Juliet’s features were schooled into the same mixture of sadness and fear that he’d seen when he woke up in the hospital after Westworld, Emily’s eyes filled with disappointment. I can’t do that. Not to them, not again. Not to myself. His eyes opened and he glanced down, head shaking back and forth before he set the container back down and slid the drawer shut. She’s not worth it. He knew it to be true - knew that every moment following the agreement that they made, every second of their relationship was worse than the last, but Logan was hesitant to let himself focus on it. I can’t. It’ll ruin everything, but no one … no one notices, no one sees… 

 At that thought, Logan also thought of you, the way you’d noticed his actions, noticed the subtle changes in his demeanor after only spending a few hours with him. He thought of the way you spoke to him - unafraid to question him, and even less afraid to tell him the truth, even when it differed from what he said or thought. She would notice. He knew that it was the truth - knew that the moment you saw him and Ariella together, you’d know something wasn’t right. Maybe that would be … He sighed, moving down the hallway and into his bedroom, laying down atop the blankets and folding one arm back beneath his head. But then I’d need to explain, and she wouldn’t … it’d be like I was lying to her, and I’m not. I just can’t … “Fuck.” He closed his eyes. “God fucking dammit.” 

 He’d never done so much as touch you anywhere but the arm or the back of your neck; hadn’t even come close to kissing you or holding you, but Logan couldn’t deny that he was interested in you. And it’s not … not even physical, it’s… everything. He wouldn’t act on it - even with the arrangement he had in place with Ariella - because Logan knew that you deserved more. And I think it’s … I don’t think it would be as easy as … He rubbed his eyes with one hand but didn’t reopen them. And if she knew, it would mean that I’d either have to refuse to say anything else, or … or tell her about Billy, and what started this whole thing. 

 The extent of the William Incident was something that very few people knew. Juliet knew all of it; his therapist knew everything, too. Ariella knew that he’d had a bad experience, but he hadn’t ever found the will to explain to her - preferring to only blame his drug use and excessively destructive lifestyle to nearly dying in the desert, without detailing it. And fucking Jim still doesn’t believe me, otherwise he wouldn’t have … Logan swore again, letting out a long breath. He’d never truly wanted to tell anyone, because the more Logan thought about it, the more he blamed himself - for taking William, for pushing him, for not seeing the signs until it was too late. Do I want to tell someone?

 There were days he believed that it would have been easier if he’d died in the desert - all of his shares in the company and his fortune rolling over into a trust meant for any future children of Juliet’s when they turned 18, the only stipulation that they not be touched by William in any way, shape or form. Fucking him out of that would have been something that he didn’t expect, and it would have… ruined him. That got a small smile from Logan, eyes cracking open as he turned his head toward the window. “But I didn’t.” He repeated the words, sitting up. “I’m still here, and still at Delos, and he isn’t.” 

 Logan pushed himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet flat on the floor. If it came down to it - and you ever met Ariella - Logan knew that you’d have tons of questions for him. But would I answer? He frowned, lower lip jutting out. Do I want her to ask? He sighed, standing. And what would Ariella … would she say anything? Would she see the way… “The way what, Delos? She’s your friend, and …” But if I wasn’t engaged, I think it would be… “Different.” 

 --- 

 “Ari, come on.” He was sitting on the couch, one arm stretched out over the back of it. “We’re gonna be late, we’ve gotta stop over and pick up Jules on the way.” His eyes were on the TV, a movie playing on low volume. “You -”

 “I’m ready, Logan.” He turned his head at the sound of her voice, Logan’s eyes landing on the redhead. “I don’t know why we’re not taking a car, it makes -”

 “Because I need to be able to leave whenever I want to.” He stood, swallowing. “”You look great, Ari. That’s a -” His hand landed on her hip, and the woman’s hands moved to his chest, palms flat. “That’s a good color on you.” He wasn’t lying - the woman did look great, the navy blue cocktail dress hugging all of her curves, her long hair swept over one shoulder and held in place by a jeweled clip. “You look like you got some sun, too, you -”

 “You never know who’s going to be at these things, Logan.” She rose onto her toes, kissing his cheek. “Have to make a good impression, right?” No, you don’t, because you’re going to be my wife. No one will … But he didn’t say anything in response, pulling away from the  woman and grabbing his jacket from where it was hanging over the back of a chair, folding it over his arm. “Who made the guest list this time, Logan? Anyone I’d know on it?” Probably. 

 They rode the elevator down, Logan reciting some of the people’s names that would likely be there, Ariella rifling through her purse as she half listened. You asked, and now you … He rolled his eyes as the two of them exited into the garage, the woman waiting until Logan had opened the door for her to lower herself into the seat. As he slid into his side, buckling his seatbelt, Logan turned the car on and backed out of his spot, hearing the woman let out a breath. “What?” 

 “Can we turn the air on, Logan? It’s disgusting here, it’s so sticky out -” Oh, you better not have … He swung his head to look at her, eyes landing on the woman’s nose before they moved up. But Ariella’s eyes were clear and there was no powder beneath either nostril. So she’s just complaining. Got it. But he flipped the dial, and within only a few seconds, the interior had cooled off. “So why are we picking up Juliet? I thought she’d drive herself, maybe bring -”

 “She didn’t want to drive herself, and as far as I know, she didn’t ask anyone to go with her.” Logan turned onto 10, shaking his head. “So I offered to drive her, because I figured it’d be easier.” And because she’ll have to head home earlier because of Emily. “Besides, it’ll give the two of you more time to talk, since you haven’t seen each other in a while.” Logan knew that Juliet wasn’t the biggest fan of Ariella, and that she felt somewhat responsible for Logan’s situation. But she doesn’t need to. It’s my own … He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, merging onto 110. “Ari, I set up a couple appointments for tomorrow. A wedding planner and a -”

 “Yeah, about that.” She reached over, letting her hand rest on his knee. “Logan, I don’t … Do we have to meet with them? Can’t we just pick one, and then put them into contact with…” Logan groaned, feeling more disappointed than he thought he would. She doesn’t even … “I’ve already narrowed down the dresses, and I think that I’ve found a way to sell the first look at …” 

 “We have nothing planned, and you’re already worrying about who you can sell a story to?” Logan switched lanes, fingers flexing on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t that seem -” 

 “We’ve set a date, Logan. Everything else will fall into place.” She squeezed his knee and then pulled her hand away. “I can have my publicist get ahold of yours so that we can coordinate, but honestly? I don’t… Logan, it’s not like this is …” Yeah. I know. “We might as well make the most of it, right? Get as much out of the whole thing as possible? We don’t need to plan it, we just need to show up.” That’s not what I… But he again fell silent as they continued to drive, Logan unsure of what to say to the woman. So she’s taking it less seriously than I am. I should have known, but … He let out a breath, glancing over at the woman and was unsurprised to see that she’d pulled her phone out, her full attention on the device. I could ask her what she’s been… but I don’t want to fight. I just want to… “Look, right on time.” 

 She finally spoke again as they pulled around a dark blue SUV and into Juliet’s driveway, the gate open. We are. Actually, we’re a few minutes early. “Do you want to come in and see Em? It’s been -” 

 “I guess.” The woman shrugged. “I haven’t really ever spent much time with her, so I don’t know how …” For the first time in as long as he could remember, Ariella looked truly uncomfortable, a small frown on her face. “Does she know who I am?” She does, but … 

 “Yeah, Ari. Of course she does.” He grinned, running one hand through his hair and sliding his keys into his pocket. “Come on.” They walked across the driveway and up to the front door, Logan knocking once before pushing down on the handle and opening it. “Jules? We’re here.” They stepped into the entryway, Logan glancing around the corner. “Em?” He heard the little girl before he saw her; an excited shriek of his name followed by the sound of her footsteps as she ran toward them. Probably in her playroom. The little girl rounded the corner, her arms held out to Logan, who crouched over and reached for her, the grin never leaving his face. At least someone’s happy to see me. He hugged the girl to his chest, turning his head toward Ariella, who was watching with the same uncomfortable smile on her face, but what Logan wasn’t expecting was a second set of footsteps following the little girl’s, abruptly stopping along with the movement that he saw out of the corner of his eye. What … Squeezing Emily one more time, he set her down, still staring. There’s… why? In disbelief, Logan stood up again, lips parted slightly as he said your name, confused. “What are you -”

 “Juliet’s babysitter canceled last minute.” You shrugged, taking a step into the room and toward Logan and Ariella, even as Emily returned to your side, one arm going around your bare leg and your fingers barely brushing the top of her head. “And I was supposed to come over tomorrow anyway, so I …” You shrugged. “I just said I’d watch Em, so Juliet didn’t have to miss the party, and …” He heard it - the slight waver of your voice as you looked between him and Ariella, your eyes never lingering on either of them. “So, while you guys are eating all of that fancy food and drinking that alcohol, and schmoozing... Emily and I are going to swim, and roast marshmallows, and …” He heard his niece giggle, watching as you looked back down. “Have fun, right?” 

 The little girl nodded and Logan felt himself smiling as he watched the two of you interact, you barely paying attention to Logan and Ariella. Where are you, Jules? Why didn’t you … Logan’s heart was thumping in his chest, and he felt closer to panic than he had in months, but he wasn’t quite sure why. “How do you two know each other?” Ariella finally spoke, stepping forward, her heels clicking against the floor. “Are you a friend of -”

 “Logan and I met in a Whole Foods like … six weeks ago?” You tilted your head to one side. “He was buying a card for his housekeeper’s kid, and we talked for a few minutes.” You took a breath, clearing your throat. “Emily, go ahead back into the playroom. I’ll be there in a little while.” But before she did as you asked, the little girl let go of you and sprinted back toward Logan, her arms held out for another hug, which he gave her without pause, telling her to be good for you. As she disappeared through the doorway, you stepped closer to Logan and Ariella, blinking. “And after that, he introduced me to Juliet, because I live kind of close, and …” You shrugged. “It worked out, because…” Logan glanced at Ariella, watching as she assessed you, her eyes slightly narrowed, but still curious. What is… she’s never … “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, Ariella, from both Logan and J-”

 “I haven’t heard anything about you.” Her tone bored, Ariella stepped away from Logan, reaching up with her left hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. Why is she… “Are you sleeping with Logan? You should.” He sucked in a breath at the woman’s question, Logan’s eyes going back to you and seeing yours widen, head jerking back in surprise. “You’re not really his type, but it wouldn’t…” 

 “Ari.” He finally spoke. “Stop, there’s -” But you scoffed, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. 

 “What kind of a question is that? He’s engaged. He’s been very upfront about that since the second I met him and realized who he was. So no, Ariella, I’m not fucking your fiance.” You didn’t flinch as you spoke, which impressed Logan, the man focused entirely on the way that you were holding your ground, arms loosely by your sides. “Besides, even if I wanted to, Logan’s not the kind of person to cheat on -” 

 “You didn’t tell her?” Ariella laughed, looking away from you and back at Logan. “Really?” No, because it’s part of the fucking … “Oh, you...” Ariella laughed again, refocusing on you. “He’s engaged, but it isn’t a real…” Stop it, Ari.

 “Hello, Ariella.” The three of you looked up, seeing that Juliet was standing on the stairs, arms crossed over her chest. “So good to see you.” Logan caught the ice in his sister’s tone. “Thank you for coming to get me, Logan. I’m almost ready, I just need to say goodbye to Emily, and then we can go.” He nodded, still feeling slightly numb. I need to … But he wasn’t sure what he needed to do, and though he’d thought that he wanted you to meet Ariella, the fact that it was actually happening had unsettled him. 

 “Juliet, it’s great to see you.” Ariella smiled brightly. “While you go and say goodbye to Emily, I’m going to go and use your bathroom. It’s so hot out, I want to check my makeup.” Juliet waved a hand vaguely at the stairs as she crossed the hallway toward where you stood, and without even acknowledging Logan, his fiancee stepped past him, taking the stairs quickly. I should follow Juliet, spend a few more minutes with Emily. 

 “You look great, Logan.” He heard you speaking, finally finding it in himself to meet your gaze. “It’s been a couple weeks, your hair got long.” It did. You hadn’t moved, still standing in the doorway, but you’d crossed your arms, a small frown on your face. “I didn’t realize …” 

 “Thank you.” Logan watched you, unsure of what to say. “I need to get it cut, but I don’t…” 

 “Nah, it makes you look younger.” You finally cracked a smile, but he saw the confusion in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Logan. I don’t know why she assumed that -” No. Don’t you dare apologize. 

 “She assumed it because that’s what she thinks of me.” He shrugged, deciding to say as much as he could without saying anything. “I’m used to it, and I should be, because of my past, but …” He wet his lips, frowning. “She had… no right.” 

 “She should know that. Maybe not about me, because she doesn’t know me, but she’s marrying you, Logan, she should …” You looked up, sighing. “It’s not my business. And neither is …” Swallowing hard, you looked at him again, and instinctively, Logan knew what was coming. “What did she mean, Logan? That you’re engaged, but it’s not … not a real what?” He expected it from you - the direct questioning - but still didn’t know how to answer. He paused, searching your face for a few seconds, but before he could reply, Juliet spoke again from behind you. 

 “That might be a conversation for another day, hmm?” He watched as the woman squeezed your arm. “We’ve got to leave, and if you guys get into that, it’ll…” She grinned, but Logan could tell that she was unsettled, too. “Em’s playing with her dollhouse, she knows that she has to listen to you, and I think she’ll be good.”

 “She will.” Logan spoke, pushing his fingers through his hair again as Juliet stepped past you and next to him. “You won’t have any problems. And if you do?” He widened his smile. “Tell her Uncle Logan’s going to -” 

 “Uncle Logan’s going to what?” Everyone’s attention went back to the stairs, Ariella descending quickly, one hand on the railing. “Usually that threat comes before he takes his clothes -” Stop it. Logan’s eyes were on the woman’s face, and it only took him a few seconds to see that she was once again out of it, pupils wide and the smile on her face artificial. You couldn’t even wait until we … He heard Juliet hiss from next to him and Logan fought back a wince, his eyes going to you for a brief second. She looks disappointed. “He’s good at making threats… promises… you name it.” He felt Ariella’s hand on his arm, her fingers curling around the space just beneath his elbow. “He’s good at a lot of things. You sure you haven’t -” 

 “How’d he propose to you, Ariella?” You cut her off, and Logan watched the forced smile on your face, the expression not reaching your eyes. That’s the question she asks? “I saw the pictures in some of the magazines and online, but I’ve been really curious about how he …” What is she doing? Why does she… But Logan realized that you were trying to redirect the woman, reminding her that you knew he was off limits - and Logan didn’t think he’d ever appreciated something more. “I bet it’s a really good story.” 

 “You know, I don’t…” Ariella laughed. “I don’t even remember where we were when he asked.” Logan couldn’t stop the recoil at her words, his mouth dropping open. I didn’t … really? “Oh, come on, Logan. It’s not that big of a deal. We’d been drinking a lot, and it was mostly for show anyway, because we knew that the press was expecting it, so I guess…” She turned her head toward him, smirking. “He probably remembers, though. Logan remembers everything.” 

 “It’s time to go.”Juliet spoke again, her voice even frostier than it had been. “Logan, are you ready?” I’ve been ready. “If you need me, call. I can be back here in half an hour.” Logan watched you collect yourself and then nod at the woman, keeping your eyes averted. She must have so many … 

 “We’ll be fine, Juliet. I promise.” Your voice didn’t waver, but Logan heard something in it, a thinly veiled concern, maybe. I … she… “Hope you guys have a good time.” We won’t. You didn’t say anything else, instead turning away and beginning to step out of the room, but Ariella said your name, telling you to stop. What is … 

 “I meant it.” You looked back over your shoulder at them, and Logan again froze, waiting. “You really should see what he’s like in bed before we get married and he’s not allowed anymore.” The woman laughed and Logan couldn’t stop himself from pulling his arm away from her, eyes wide and jaw dropped. “He might not have told you what the deal is, but I’m here - right here - telling you that I don’t care what he does.” She raised an eyebrow at Logan, lips curved into a satisfied smirk. “Everything stops when we get married, but not a second before, right darling?” He felt rage, the emotion coursing through his blood stronger than it ever had before; moreso than when William had left him in the desert, stronger than when Juliet and his father hadn’t believed him, sharper than when he’d been disappointed in himself for making such destructive and dangerous choices about his health. Because this isn’t just about me. This is … “Then again,” Ariella drawled out the words, her accent all but disappearing. “Someone like you might not be able to stop when it’s time, since I’m positive you’ve never had anyone like Logan before.” 

 You blinked twice and Logan saw that you were close to tears. Unacceptable.  “Enough. It’s time to go.” He reached for her arm, gripping it with his long fingers and pulling her back toward the door. “You’re being a real asshole, Ari.” She only laughed, wrenching herself out of his grip and turning toward the door, her back to you without another word. Juliet moved too, following the other woman, but Logan focused on you, his mouth opening and closing a few times, though he didn’t speak. What do I even… Rather than saying anything, you closed your eyes, shaking your head back and forth before opening them again, gaze locked on Logan’s face. You mouthed the word “go”, reaching up to swipe beneath your eye with a knuckle, biting down on one corner of your lip, and while it was the last thing he wanted to do, Logan felt his shoulders slumping as he did what you asked. I hope she … hope she lets me explain, lets me apologize… 

 But Logan had the sinking feeling in his stomach that the friendship that the two of you had built up over the previous weeks had been damaged beyond repair due to Ariella’s interference - and the information he’d kept from you, despite the necessity of doing so. 

 ---

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[hollyhomburg]

can u show what happens after the snipts and i'm curious about the tae x reader, pretty please my heart is broken from that angst but the way you wrote is beautiful

here is the next part!

SANDCASTLES: SNIPPETS IN SEQUENCE (3) (YOONMINJOONSEOK X READER) (TAEHYUNG X READER) (OMEGAVERSE AU) 

TAGS: angst, unplanned pregnancy, depression, loneliness, BETA! taehyung x reader

W/c: 3.5k

A/n: here you go! here are the beta Taehyung parts, as well as what happens immediately after she leaves the alphas and Jimin. The next part will be about what happens to them in the wake of her leaving, and I will say this; the next part has some heavy tags so be sure to watch out for those. ALSO- TAE IS THE VILLAN OF THIS STORY, but the beginning with him isn’t bad. he will eventually betray the reader so be prepared! 

- You cry yourself to sleep every night the first week in your new apartment. 

- It’s a nice place really, too nice- but your company had told you it was more than within your means when they booked it for you. and you can barely believe the first paycheck you get.  it has an extra bedroom and a kitchen with a retro-style but new appliances and molding on the ceiling in the old district, full of restaurants and coffee shops that you live off for the first few weeks. 

- You don’t have a bed frame yet, so your bed just sits on the carpeted floor.  Your boxes scattered around you, the one that holds some of your books acts as a nightstand.  Your new job isn’t that terrible- in fact they make every point to tell you how good it is to have someone capable fill the position, and how good you are at your job. 

- After so long it’s nice to feel appreciated. 

- You even make friends with two of the other women that work there, an omega female named Yeri, and an alpha female named Irene, who would have made you nervous if not for the mating mark clearly evident on her collar bone. 

- Despite the fact that they were slightly under you in the company, they both treated you, the new girl, with kindness. They even invited you to have lunch with them and get to know them on your second day and showed you around the company. 

- It wasn’t safe for an unmated omega in a new city they said, you ended up crying in the bathroom for a few hours after that- it used to be your dream to be marked by Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok, and for them to bear your and Jimin's mark. But now that dream could never come to fruition. 

- But they are kind- so kind. They don’t ask you where you came from or even if you have any family- keeping your conversations mostly on company gossip and pop culture. You end up going to see a movie with them in the second week. And by the end of the third, the three of you are the best of friends. 

- You’d never really had any friends that where girls- after all you’d always had Jimin, you’d never needed anyone else other than him until now. 

- You get a dresser and put your old phone (still turned off) in the top drawer once you get a company cellphone. You adjust well, your apartment overlooks a park and a small pond in the very middle of the bustling city. Your place of work is only 5 blocks away, and you find yourself enjoying your walk to work every morning. 

- But you’re miserable, you can't breathe in the smell of coffee without thinking of Yoongi and feeling sick to your stomach, every time you hear music you think of all the times both Jimin and Hoseok used to drag you to your feet to dance.  

- You cant even watch TV without your and Namjoon’s favorite documentary show coming on- or that drama you and Hoseok used to curl up and watch. - What’s more, is that it seems like you’re actually getting sick, your fever is raised and every time you go for lunch you end up vomiting it all back up a few minutes later. Even your favorite foods don’t stay down. you try to chalk it up to the stress of moving and being separated from your alphas (which has been known to happen in some omegas after they part with a pack, their instincts regecting their minds desire to stay away), but it seems like that's less the case the more time goes on. 

- It happens one day at work while you sit and eat your lunch with Yeri (Irene had a meeting during your usual lunch hour- but she told you not to wait for her). and you narrowly avoid vomiting on your new white blouse before you lean over and throw up your sandwich in the waste paper basket, a sudden wave of vomiting hits you so harshly that Yeri looks more than a little concerned. 

- After you assure her that yes- you’re going to the doctor soon about it, and yes you’ve been able to keep water down she gives you a final withering look before she offhandedly says, “fine just don’t go getting pregnant on me like Irene’s wife did- I swear now all the two of them ever want to do is watch baby TV and talk about their child’s poops.” 

- Throughout the rest of the day her words stick with you, and you end up going home at the end of the day only to pacing your apartment for a few hours,  before you head back out to the store to pick up a pregnancy test and some ice cream (because why not). 

- You pace around your small unfurnished living room as you wait for the stick to give you your results.You never expected to do this alone- in your mind someone was always here with you, you even expected to have all of them there. You wanted Jimin's hand on yours more than anything, you wanted to grow massive with him, and maybe raise your children together if you could. 

- You openly sob the stick comes back as positive, you pace around your apartment crying and thinking on your situation for the entirety of the night before you realize that you being pregnant does nothing to change your situation. this is the only time you strongly consider turning on your old phone. you didn’t know if there would even be messages waiting from you- probably from Jimin, but not from any of the others you’re sure. 

- Out of all of them- it has to be namjoon’s, you think back to the time in the kitchen, how your front was pressed to the granite, how it felt impersonal, how you’d sent the email for your job immediately after. that was probably the day you got pregnant. 

- the more you think about it, the more you're sure. you put your phone away and don’t turn it on. Why would they want you now? if anything this would only make them hate you more. they where good people, and they wouldn’t have let you do this alone, especially Jimin.  but They would resent being tied to a pregnant omega that they weren’t mated too or even in love with- that you were sure of. 

- you imagine it briefly, sure- you’d have them in your life, but only so far as your child would have a parent in Namjoon, and uncles in the rest. you imagine the awkward doctors visits, the offers to pay, needing to share your child between here and Seoul. whatever children they’d have one day with Jimin, would be cousins to yours, and whatever children he’d have with Namjoon. well- they’d have the love of all the alphas, not just Namjoon. and you don’t want your child to feel any less loved because of your mistakes. 

- So You’d have to raise your child alone, in a city that you barely knew. Without any support system. Sure your new friend were great but they were so new. So to distract yourself from your situation, the fact that you’re going to do all of this alone, and the fact that you left your baby’s father- You drown yourself in work, staying later than anyone else consistently, falling into your bed exhausted. 

- You go to your prenatal appointments alone, and when you start getting cravings, there’s no one to lean over to in the middle of the night and ask for chocolate sauce and watermelon, or barbecue mayonnaise and mac and cheese fries, you get up and do it yourself. 

- By week 5 of your pregnancy, your hormones have started to change enough that one day you walk into work and Yeri almost screams in happiness, congratulating you and jumping in your arms when she notices how your scent has changed. It’s only when she pulls back and sees your withdrawn sad expression that she says, “oh honey…” and Irene slaps her on the arm lightly as she tries to broach the topic of the father. They both know you live alone by now.

- you notify your boss, and you almost pass out when they offer you nearly 4 months of maternity leave. they seem determined to treat you well. it helps that your ceo is also an omega. 

- By about 12 weeks- you’re starting to show significantly enough that people on the train start to give you the priority seat when you were tight clothes. You show Enough that you begin to fiddle with your old phone again. You get close several times to turning it on-But in the end you never do. Preferring to leave it in the drawer of the nightstand next to your bed right next to the picture of them. 

- “You can do this, there are plenty of single omega parents, it’s not like it used to be” the doctor and the clinic that you go too for your prenatal appointments assures you when the other omega finally asks if they’ res a father or another mother in the picture. 

- And you’re not over what happened by any means but things slowly start to get better. 

- You don’t cry randomly as much, you start coming home earlier and going on walks- the doctor said it was good for the baby. On the weekends you go to this fresh fruit market, sometimes with Irene and her wife and child, making a day out of it. 

- And you enjoy the little child as he reaches up for your stomach, patting on it gently and slurring the words “baby out now!” that causes all of you to giggle and Irene’s wife apologizes- saying that their little Eun just loves babies more than anything. 

- Your life is nice, calm. There is a tense atmosphere in your apartment, though you do buy a few plants, and a few poster pictures to put on the white walls. slowly the space starts to feel like yours.  You paint the spare room the lightest shade of robins egg blue and add puffy white clouds to the walls with Yeri, giggling and laughing harder than you have in months as she accidentally splashes paint onto her face. 

- Your relationship with a kind and soft beta named Taehyung starts simply and in the most cliché way possible.

- You accidentally ran into him while coming home from the grocery store, your belly barely showing through a baggy sweatshirt. Two paper bags in either arm. One of the bags rips when he bumps into you. his other coming up to stop you from falling backward, his arm like iron, his hands digging into you to steady you. all of a sudden your whole body flush with warmth. 

- Tae is an absolute gentleman, picking up your weird assortment of food in his hands and walking the few blocks to your tiny apartment. you feel surprisingly safe with the stranger, your instincts have been in overdrive since your body started to adjust to your pregnancy, and they’re something about Tae’s scent that immediately settles your stomach. 

It goes surprisingly well, there is something so gentlemanly about his deep voice and his quiet smile that makes you feel so relaxed. His beta scent- the smell of clean laundry (beta’s always smelled clean) definitely has something to do with it. not his pretty jaw or his delicate style. 

- You invite him in for some iced tea and you spend a few minutes chatting, now that the bags not in front of your stomach, Tae can see why you seemed so unsteady on your feet. You expect it to scare him away- but he doesn’t mention you're obvious condition until he’s about to leave. Handing you a small slip of paper with his number on it. 

- He touches your shoulder softly. “I live in the area so If you ever need any help- please don’t hesitate to call me.” by now he has scented the room, know by the lack of a competing scent as well as the lack of a bite on your shoulder that you’re alone. that you don't have anyone. 

- You pin the number to the old fashion fridge and try to forget about it. After all, tae was more than a little flirty and you’re in no position to even want to date anyone right now. But when you finally call it’s more about needing help than wanting to see him. Though seeing him was an added bonus. 

- He helps you move your refrigerator after an important document falls behind it, the literal social security card that you can't reach or get at. And he’s sweaty sipping more of your ice tea when he says, “I hoped that when you finally called me it would be for a date and not to rescue your medical stuff behind your dusty fridge.”

- “You don’t want to date me tae,” you say, your hand hovering over your stomach. He looks at your tummy too, sicking in his lower lip. 

- “No I’m sure that I do” he says, taking your hand in his before he says softly, his warm brown eyes piercing into you as he looks through his black bangs “I don’t know what you’re dealing with, I don’t know who or what you’re running from, but trust me when I saw that I really, really want to take you out on a date- at least once.” 

- You relent and agree to go visit a night market with him- one of the hallmarks of this city that you hadn’t yet indulged in.He buys you ice cream and fried mac and cheese and doesn’t criticize you when you dunk your French fries in your chocolate Sunday. In fact, he joins in- letting you dunk one in his Oreo mango ice cream. 

- You listen to Tae talk about his job; you find out that he owns a pair of café’s the first one that he inherited from his grandmother, the second one that he opened last year after the first one did so well. Business is booming so much that he’s contemplating opening a third. the cafe is just between your apartment and your job, it’s no wonder that you never ran into him sooner. 

- You promise to come to try his berry macaroons that are apparently the best in town. He starts to talk about coffee but then a glance down to your stomach reminds him that you can’t have that- and he switches to boba tea

- You sit in the warm summer air listening to a live band before you go to walk along the river, the lights reflecting off the water like one of van Goh's paintings. You’re laughing at some joke Tae tells you when he leans over surprisingly and kisses you, you recoiled a little, more surprised than displeased. 

- “I’m sorry- you just looked so…. i’m sorry- I rushed you didn’t I, shit- y/n I’m so-” 

- “I don’t know what you want from me Tae,” you say gesturing to your stomach, he starts to look abashed and ashamed, but then relents at your soft expression “but if we’re going to see each other like that, then you have to know that I miss them.” You say softly while looking out at the water, your hand hovering over your swollen stomach.  

- “them?” he asks, looking surprised, you nod, “them.”  

- “And I’m not going to stop missing them, probably for a long while. I think I always will. And if you’re ok with that- if you don’t mind-” Tae reaches up, running a hand across your face and you find yourself leaning into his touch, its been so long since anyone’s touched you with any affection. Your body is so hungry, so needy for it.

- “I don’t care who else is in your heart, I only want a place in It.” Tae says after a moment. Leaning his forehead against yours.

- You and tae start casually seeing each other, you stop by his coffee shop most days before work, it’s a street off from your company’s main building, and Tae always has a bag of coffee cake or a plate full of raspberry tarts for you, he pushes away your money with a lopsided grin the makes your heart beat rapidly.  He even steps away during the busiest times to sit with you and just talk. 

- Sometimes he plops your feet up on his lap and massages your swollen ankles, his smiles sweeter than the pastries, not taking no for an answer until you’ve tried every kind the café offers at least twice because he wants to know which are your favorite. 

- One-night Taehyung finds your photo of all of them and your old cellphone in your dresser. And you're just trying to crack an egg into a pan when he comes out holding it. you almost drop the carton when he asks you who they are. 

- He sits you down and you start breathing heavily and tells you that you don’t need to tell him- he sends a concerned look at your stomach, and that it doesn't matter if it's going to make you upset. you don't mean to have a panic attack but really, turning around and seeing your...your boyfriend holding the picture of your baby daddy just suprised you. 

- tae looks like he honestly wants to know, So you launch into the story of your best friend who you’ve loved and will love until the day you die. Cradle to grave and all that. 

- Fuck you miss jimin so much. You miss them all, Hoseok, yoongi and Namjoon. He laughs like Namjoon did when you tell him childhood stories of you and jimin and listens eagerly as you tell him about your college experience and trying to stay away. 

- He’s a little quieter when he learns about the alpha’s that you love while you point at their faces in the picture and smile. He smiles a little though when you start listing off the things about them that you love. And he gets a little sadder when he realizes it will always be love- And not loved. 

- your love for them hasn’t faded. not in all these months apart. 

- He wishes you would move on from them. Wishes he was the only one who had ever made a home out of your heart. But he understands why you can’t- you’re carrying his child after all. The one with the gray hair in the photo, you tell him as much. 

- he touches the photograph softly, “I understand why you miss them so much- it must have been so nice having so many people to love you and to love them back.”

- “it really was.” 

- “I wish I was worth that” Taehyung says softly, his face downturned. You kiss away his worries, “you are tae- never think you’re not worth it- because you are.” he pulls you to him and kisses your forehead as his mind turns your words over in his head. 

- maybe your words have a double meaning, maybe maybe, runs through his head. And he shakes off thoughts of other omega’s and directs his attention to you. 

- “so are we going to eat dinner together or what? Should I call for takeout”

- But no matter where you go home too at night, no matter how good things are with Tae, you can’t help but think about Namjoon’s arms encircling your waist, about Yoongi’s quiet roll of his knuckles against your side in a silent hello.  

- About Hoseok’s sweet kisses and how he would take your hand in his and drag you up from wherever you were sitting to slow dance with you around your kitchen when you were sad, and how it would eventually devolve into giggles and awkward butt wiggles.

- Nothing like how it was when you left when Hoseok would barely look at you- and if he did even look at you, it would only be with disdain and anger so severe that it would make you shake.

- But most of all you miss Jimin, the way he would hang on Namjoon’s thighs while gripping yours, how when he would laugh he would throw himself onto your shoulder to hide his closed-eyed smile in your skin. the way you’d smell so much like each other you could hardly distinguish your scents anymore. 

- The first night you sleepover at Taehyung’s house you end up waking up in the middle of the night and reaching out for another set of arms. 

- Taehyung wakes up too you wearing his silk robe and crying on his balcony, where you went to hide your sobs, he runs his hands up and down your arms while talking to you quietly, saying that you should come inside. 

- That the cold is bad for the baby, and he’s right, you’re shaking like a leaf and your belly has grown so much in the past month. You’re nearly 5 months along- you’ve only known tae for a few months, but he already wants to tell you he loves you. He already loves you and the baby- it doesn’t matter that he’s not the father. 

- But what you don’t know is that at that moment, Jimin is doing the same thing, crying on a balcony, feeling unable to go back inside as he looks out over the view that the two of you used to love. He remembers how you would drag the alphas out onto the balcony to eat dinner or play a game or just sitting, talking as you looked at the city. 

- Because the apartment inside doesn’t feel like it used to- try as he might it doesn’t feel like home anymore, because you’re not there and everything is slowly falling apart- has been for months, and by now Jimin feels like he’s falling apart too. 

- It feels like he’s been watching a train wreck in slow motion since you left.

------------------------------------  

(once again! this series will never be finished! just fyi!) 

[magalidragon]

Silent Shadows | Chapter 14: the journey | a teaser

"How are things with you and Arsehole?"

That was pretty not at all subtle. She rolled her eyes. "Arsehole?"

Arya shrugged. "He's been a total toolbox the last few days, I wanted your take on why." She wagged her tongue and eyebrows. "You not putting out or something?"

"Arya!"

"What? Maybe he just needs to get laid."

She rolled her eyes, her turn now to be irritated. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the exam table, wrestling with telling Arya the full truth. It wasn't like she didn't know. By now, six months after she'd gone to Essos for her surgery, things had shifted, enough so that the ones closest to her and Jon were fully aware of them.

It had gone around town rather quickly, the vet moving in with the deaf wolf owner. It took a few months, her possessions slowly migrating from the apartment above the office to Jon's house-- their house-- until one morning Jon just asked her flat out if she wanted to move in. He had been very Jon about it all.

He was brushing his teeth, while she washed her face, side-by-side sinks, very domestic, and after he spit out the toothpaste, met her gaze in the mirror and signed: "Do you live here now? If not, you should." Then he turned around and walked out.

Dany raked her fingers through her hair, letting it fall out of the messy braid she'd tugged it into that morning, in a rush to get out and to the clinic in time for her first appointment. The distance between the house and the clinic had been the only thing she didn't much care for when it came to moving in with Jon. She began to rebraid her hair, quietly speaking to Arya. "It's jus tbeen hard, the last few months."

"I know," Arya murmured.

They were referring to Ghost's attack, the terrifying moment when they thought that all would be lost. She had been more scared than any moment in her life combined, focusing on every ounce of training in her bones, healing the animal that gave her loved one his voice. Without him, Jon could not speak, and with everything else in their life, losing Ghost was not an option.

Thank the gods that had not happened, he was recovering well, still weak and slow, but healing. So was Jon, his heart having been ripped from his body at the sight of his beloved companion bleeding in the snow, and lying in the operating room while she stitched him together. They had been through too much to let it get to them, but it had been exhausting.

Six months of constant upheaval, they were still there. She figured Jon was allowed a few days to be an arsehole, even if it pissed off Arya. "I told him I didn't want to do another round yet," she mumbled, digging her toe into a groove in the tile. It was aged, desperately needing replacing, just another thing on her 'to do' list.

Coat rustling, Arya moved back from the window, and went over to stand next to her, lightly touching her hand. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"It is what it is, you know?" The surgery had been successful, Mel said, removing scar tissue and other adhesions, and so with the first round they hoped it would take, but she was prepared for the worst. It hadn't, which had been devastating for them both.

She blamed herself for getting Jon's hopes up too. He was all in, from the moment he'd appeared in that hospital hallway to the way he'd 'artfully' proposed he'd be her donor. They didn't speak much about another round, until two months later, and that hadn't worked. This time she was saving up for another go, knowing Jon could afford it but not wanting his trust fund to be depleted because her stupid body couldn't do the one thing that it should do as a female.

Arya quirked her lip. "It just isn't time. Ghost's attack, moving in together...perhaps it's for the best right now."

"Yeah, I tell myself that too." They didn't bother to prevent it, didn't stop, but she was growing weary of 'scheduling' their lovemaking to when it was most conducive to pregnancy. She chewed her bottom lip, thinking of the box that was in her bag, waiting for when she went home, just in case. She was late. Maybe this time...

She didn't want to tell Arya just yet. She didn't even want to tell Jon. Sometimes she didn't even want to tell herself. It was a constant struggle. She chewed on her bottom lip a moment and then forced a smile, when Arya gave her a furrowed frown. "I'm fine," she lied.

"Uh-huh."

Of course Arya would not believe her. She was so protective. It was a blessing and a curse. She patted her hand, reassuring. "Seriously. Things will be fine. We're also getting used to things."

"Like what? Can I help? Gendry moving in with me was the weirdest thing ever. I thought I knew all his strange habits but then..." Ayra shuddered. "Men."

Dany laughed. She shrugged and knelt down to pet Lady, needing something to do with her hands. "Oh just all kinds of things. I had to get a sleep mask for his light alarm. Learning how to approach him so I don't scare him. Sometimes the silence can be a lot. I don't watch much TV but it's odd."

"He doesn't care about that, you know."

"I know, but I do." There were also the flashing lights on the microwave, the oven, and some other assistive devices she hadn't realized were even there until she moved in. Strobe lights in place of smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. Red blinking light over the door if someone was there, motion detected. There was also a vibrating device in the bed, she'd discovered, that could be hooked up to alarms to wake him, but he didn't use it.

"Freaks me out sometimes," he signed, when she asked why not. He smiled lecherously. "But we can find an alternative use for it."

Jon, always the resourceful one.

She clipped Lady's leash to her harness, standing and passing it over to Arya. "Then there's just the weird habits. You're right, men are weird."

"Jon has to be the weirdest."

"I don't know about that, but he does have some quirks." He hated laundry, waited way too long to do it, and it drove her insane. There was also the way he sometimes 'pretended' not to hear when she knew damn well he'd seen her signing, feigning surprise when she asked why he wasn't 'listening.' Usually when it was related to chores. Otherwise they had settled into a routine.

Arya walked out of the room with her, allowing Lady to lead the way to the door. "Well if you ever need a drink, let me know. Tormund misses you."

"I know, I have to stop by and see him."

"Rickon also says he wrote a song about you, he wants to send it to you, but needs your email." Arya rolled her eyes. "I shudder to think what he says in it."

Dany laughed. She liked Rickon and it seemed Rhaegar did as well. He had connections to the music industry in Essos and was looking into getting RIckon's band a few gigs. "I'll let Rhae know."

"Your hottie brother is so weird."

"Ew! He is not a hottie!"

Arya shrugged. "Sansa has a crush on him, don't tell her I told you that."

Dany pretended to gag, opening the door for Arya and Lady. She gestured for her to leave, with a flourish. "And with that, I bid you farewell. I also need to burn out my eyes, because my brother is not hot." Annoying and melancholy, yes. Hot? No way.

"Whatever. I think he's hot."

"Arya!" She made a face, sticking out her tongue. "Well, then let me tell you that your cousin is super hot and kept me up all night long last night with his..."

"Ew! Shut up!" Arya slapped her hands over her ears, closing her eyes tight. "La, la, la, la!"

She smirked. "Two can play that game."

"Goodbye bitch."

"Later." She made another face and waved, Lady hopping off excitedly towards the truck. She leaned against the door frame a moment longer, watching Arya drive away. It was nice to have someone close. Someone to joke with when things got tough. Her friendship with Arya had been a constant for her to rely on during her time in the North, even during those hard times with Jon. Missandei was so far away. Even if Dany was still trying to convince her to move there, her best friend hadn't budged, citing the cold was too much for her.

After a few minutes, she closed the door and flicked the sign, closing up for the Friday afternoon. Gilly had already left, to go deal with some sort of school drama involving her sons. Dany finished up and did some paperwork, trying to distract herself from what lay ahead at home

[cryingcow]

Character Story - Mine [RGGO]

I feel like i just wrote an entire MineDai pre-relationship fanfic with the word count on this >_< There’s a section in Mine’s wiki page about the “The Man Called Yoshitaka Mine” event. I’m pretty sure this takes place after that one, because Mine makes references to things Daigo said when they first met.

When it comes to idioms, I decided to leave in the ones that don’t sound too different from their English counterparts as is. The others I just tried to reword (it took a lot of googling to figure them out lol). Also, please note that anything I write before the chapter starts is shit I made up, don’t take them as facts XD

Story: Mine, Chairman of the Hakuho Clan, meets up with Sixth Chairman Dojima. He then goes out for drinks with his boss, loses him in a public toilet, and ends up saving the day with his inherent skepticism that Daigo could be sleeping with a woman (either because our boy Mine’s gaydar is on point, or he believes that the words “Daigo” and “get laid” could never occur in the same sentence).

Mine: (I wish I could be his friend so he could smile at me like that . . . but it seems I am fated to only know him as the Sixth Chairman . . .)

Daigo: “Hey Mine wanna get some drinks together?”

Mine: :O

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CHAPTER 1

.

[Tojo Headquarters]

Driver: “Well, Chairman Mine. This is where you get off.”

Mine: “Ah.”

Mine: (Today’s my meeting with Chairman Dojima. Heh. I’ve really gotten far.)

Mine: “Hm? That’s . . .”

{Daigo walks by, talking to someone on the phone.}

Mine: “Is that Chairman Dojima? He seems to be on the phone with someone.”

Daigo: “Hahaha. It’s hard work. But I’m fine.”

Telephone voice: “But Daigo-san. Ever since becoming chairman, you’ve become a distant person!”

Daigo: “What, would you like to come visit the Tojo Headquarters next time? It’s full of yakuza . . .”

Telephone voice: “No way! Just treat me to some cabarets and soaplands!”

Daigo: “Idiot, use your own money! Ha ha ha!”

Mine: (. . . Is the other party on the phone a friend of Chairman Dojima? . . . From what I heard, Chairman Dojima was playing around with his friends in the city before he assumed the position of Sixth Chairman. Must be a friend from that time period. I thought he was strict, but it seems he can make that kind of expression . . . to a friend . . .)

Daigo: “Oh, Mine. You’re here.”

Mine: “It’s nice to meet you, Chairman.”

----

[Tojo HQ – Chairman’s Office]

Daigo: “. . . That’s all for today. Good luck from now on.”

Mine: “Yes. I will live up to your expectations.”

Mine: (By exchanging a cup with him, you entrust your life . . . It seems that I may only know this person as the Sixth Chairman . . .)

Daigo: “Hm? What is it, Mine? What’s wrong?”

Mine: “. . . no. It’s nothing. Excuse me.”

Daigo: “Really?”

Mine: (Now I have to fulfill my duties faithfully. To be Chairman Dojima’s . . . the Tojo Clan’s backbone.)

Daigo: “. . . Wait. Mine. Are you free tonight?”

Mine: “Tonight? I don’t have any plans . . .”

Daigo: “Then, do you want to go out for drinks?”

Mine: “Eh?”

Daigo: “It’s late, but consider it a celebration of the direct promotion of the Hakuho Clan. In addition, I’ve never had a drink with you yet.”

Mine: “. . .”

Daigo: “How about it? I know a good place.”

Mine: “. . . Yeah. I’ll be happy to.”

----

[Champion District]

Mine: (. . . no way. To receive an invitation from Chairman Dojima . . . I’m in trouble. What do I even talk about . . .)

{Off to the side, a thug and a yakuza are yelling and fighting.}

Mine: (Jeez. It’s a noisy town. The Chairman will arrive anytime now.)

{The thug and the yakuza keep fighting. The yakuza shoves the thug, and he bumps into Mine.}

Mine: “. . . ku!”

Thug: “What are you standing around there for!”

Mine: “. . . If you two are having a dispute, can you do it elsewhere?”

Thug: “We can have disputes wherever we want!”

Mine: “. . . You’re an eyesore. Scraps.”

Yakuza: “Scraps?”

Mine: “Yeah. Garbage. Messy trash dirtying the Chairman’s path. The Chairman will feel uncomfortable with guys like you around. Get lost now.”

Yakuza: “What part of it don’t you understand! We’re not going anywhere!”

Mine: “I guess it can’t be helped then. I’ll have to announce the Chairman’s arrival before he comes. Bring it on, scraps!”

{Mine takes care of the garbage.}

Mine: “Hn. Not so mouthy now.”

Daigo’s voice: “I think they’ve had enough, Mine.”

Mine: “Chairman Dojima . . .”

Daigo: “Did I keep you waiting?”

Mine: “No . . . I just arrived myself. Even so, a place like this? There’s a lot to be said about the location, the security . . .”

Daigo: “This is my favorite bar. When it comes to drinking, this is the best place.”

Mine: “Is that so . . . hm?”

Bodyguards: “. . .”

Daigo: “They’re coming along while we drink. Those guys are at work, don’t mind them.”

Mine: “I don’t have a problem. This is for the safety of Chairman Dojima.”

Mine: (Now, since I was invited, I have to be enthusiastic . . . It’s time to forget my daily duties and just enjoy myself tonight.)

----

[Bar that might be Shellac unless it’s just reused assets]

Daigo: “Fuu. I finally got a drink. I can’t do without this.”

Mine: “. . . Chairman Dojima, you seem tired. Are the Chairman’s duties difficult?”

Daigo: “Ah, it’s very hard. For days it seems I’ve done nothing but work.”

{A couple overhears and starts whispering near them. The woman wonders what Daigo is a chairman of, but the man says he’s probably no one important.}

Daigo: “. . .”

Mine: “. . .”

Daigo: “. . . Hey, Mine. Why are you calling me Chairman Dojima today? It’s too stiff.”

Mine: “Sorry. I didn’t realize. Then . . . Daigo-san. That’s what I’ll call you.”

Daigo: “Ah, that’s fine.”

Daigo: “You know . . . the Fourth Chairman Kiryu-san’s existence is far greater than I thought. It seems even among those who don’t openly oppose, many are still dissatisfied with my appointment as Sixth Chairman.”

Mine: (Kiryu Kazuma . . . his name will always come up when you talk with Daigo-san . . .)

Mine: “That person, Kiryu, to Daigo-san . . . is he like your aniki?”

Daigo: “Aniki? . . .That’s right, something like that. I can’t express it in one word. But family, no . . . he may be more than that.”

Mine: (More than family? Something that far?)

Daigo: “That person is now running an orphanage in Okinawa. There, he seems to be living in peace with his new family.”

Mine: “An orphanage . . .”

Daigo: “Life in Okinawa is the peace he finally got. I want to protect it, whatever happens . . .”

Mine: (For Daigo-san to declare as much . . . Kiryu Kazuma . . . must be quite the man.)

----

|2 hours later . . .|

Daigo: “Hahaha! Kanda’s face at the time must have been a masterpiece.”

Mine: “Yeah! Once my anger passed, I was amazed. He had a face like a sumo wrestler’s after I hit it.”

Daigo: “Ha-Hahaha! Su-Sumo wrestler-!”

Mine: (It seems he’s having fun. This is nice . . .)

Daigo: “By the way, Mine. Are you a private person? When it comes to friends . . .”

Mine: “Eh? Private? Me? . . . Hm? A phone?”

{A phone goes off with a notification.}

Daigo: “O-oh. It looks like I got . . . an email . . .”

Mine: “. . . !”

Mine: (What? Daigo-san’s face . . . is turning pale . . .)

Daigo: “. . .”

Mine: “What’s wrong?”

Daigo: “. . . N-no. It’s not a big deal. It’s my work email. Good grief, they must be bored. I don’t usually get emails at times like this.”

Bodyguards: “. . .”

Mine: (Daigo-san looks upset. Who did the email come from?)

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 2

.

[Bar]

Daigo: “. . .”

Mine: (Daigo-san. Since that email arrived, he’s been acting strange. He keeps looking at the time, and acting like he doesn’t want to be here anymore. Who did that email come from?)

Mine: “. . . Um. Daigo-san, are you okay? Your complexion looks bad.”

Daigo: “No, it’s fine. I just feel a little sick.”

Mine: (Are you hiding something?)

{There’s a commotion outside. Two yakuza brothers are trying to enter the bar, but Bodyguard A says monkeys like them aren’t allowed inside. They get into a fight.}

Bodyguard B: “Sounds like trouble outside. I’ll go help.”

Mine: (Not again. It really is a noisy town.)

Daigo: “. . . Now’s my chance.”

Mine: “Eh?”

Daigo: “Mine, actually there’s something I need to tell you . . . I need to get out of here alone.”

Mine: “Get . . . out?”

Daigo: “Lately, my bodyguards have been hanging around all the time, and I’m getting sick of it. They even follow me to the toilet . . . I can’t even stretch out my wings. That’s why I want to be alone for once and take a break.”

Mine: (. . . he wants to be alone? What do I say to that?)

Mine: “By any chance . . . does the content of the email you received have something to do with this?”

Daigo: “! . . . No Mine, it’s not like that. As I said . . .”

Mine: (He keeps glancing around the place. What is it?)

Mine: “. . . understood.”

Daigo: “So you’ll let me go?!”

Mine: “Yeah. It’s likely you’ll still try to leave even if I say no. However . . . please let me accompany you. As your bodyguard.”

Daigo: “Wh-what? You too?”

Mine: “It is expected that as the Sixth Chairman, you cannot be walking around alone. ‘I will accompany you as a bodyguard’ . . . that’s the last oath your subordinates swear by.”

Daigo: “. . . Alright. Then come along with me. We should be able to get out through the back door.”

Mine: (Daigo-san’s expression when he received the email is no small matter . . . When it’s just the two of us outside, maybe then he’ll tell me what’s going on.)

Middle-aged Man: “. . .”

----

[Children’s Park]

Daigo: “Fuu. Somehow I found it.”

Mine: “. . . Daigo-san, what are you doing? You said you wanted to stretch out your wings.”

Daigo: “. . . Ah, that’s right . . . I felt like wanting to move my body somewhere.”

Mine: “If so, there’s a batting center nearby. How about that?”

Daigo: “A-Ah, that’s great! It’s been a while, I feel like hitting some balls!”

Mine: “. . . By the way, Daigo-san. About the email earlier . . .”

Daigo: “!”

Mine: “Are you hiding something from me? If you’re in trouble, I might be able to help.”

Daigo: “. . . . . . No, it’s a personal problem. It’s not something I should be telling you.”

Mine: “But . . .”

Daigo: “. . . . . . Mine, I understand your concern. From my position, it seems I am always threatened by danger to my person. I don’t know what or when it will happen. There’s no guarantee of tomorrow’s safety.”

Mine: “Daigo-san?”

Daigo: “. . . No, it’s a long story. Don’t worry about it. Well, you said the batting center, right? It’s been a while. Mine, will you join me?”

Mine: “Yeah. I’ll take you up on that.”

Mine: (Daigo-san is still hiding something. But, why won’t he tell me?)

Daigo: “. . . Don’t get cold, Mine. I’m going to the toilet.”

Mine: “Understood. I’ll be standing guard right here in front, so take your time.”

Daigo: “I’ll be right back.”

{Daigo enters the public toilets. Mine takes his position by the exit. A few minutes pass.}

Mine: “. . . . . . . . . he’s taking his time . . . unless . . .”

{Mine rushes to the toilets.}

Mine: “Not here . . .! He’s gone! Did he go out through the window?! He took his chance the moment he was alone! Fuck, what do I do . . .”

----

[Children’s Park]

Bodyguard A: “Ah! You!”

Mine: “Tch! At a time like this . . . !”

Bodyguard A: “Where is Chairman Dojima?!”

Mine: “. . . I don’t know. I’m also looking for him.”

Bodyguard A: “You’re lying! Did you bring him outside?!”

Bodyguard B: “You, no way . . . did you plan to kidnap Chairman Dojima all along?”

Mine: “Kidnap? You idiot, why would I?”

Bodyguard B: “Until recently, you were a regular man. You might be a spy sent by an enemy organization.”

Mine: “That’s a stupid idea. Right now we need to-“

Bodyguard A: “Whatever. If you don’t plan on spitting out the Chairman’s whereabouts, would you like us to make you talk?!”

Mine: “Tch. I guess it can’t be helped.”

{Mine beats the shit out of Daigo’s bodyguards.}

Bodyguard A: “Fu . . . ck . . . so strong . . .”

Bodyguard B: “Stupid. We are the elite . . .”

Mine: “Fuck! Get out of the way! Daigo-san . . .”

----

[West Shichifuku Street]

Mine: “Not here . . . Where?!”

Barker: “Nii-san, Onee-chan, why not come have fun at our place?”

Mine: “A barker? No, not right . . . now . . . wait, are you always working in this area?”

Barker: “Eh? That’s correct, why?”

Mine: “Did a man in his mid-thirties with black hair, a black suit, and a good physique pass by here?”

Barker: “Yeah, he did.”

Mine: “What?! Do you know where he went?”

Barker: “Where he went . . . I think he took a taxi somewhere.”

Mine: “Taxi?”

Barker: “Yeah. He was joined by a young and beautiful Onee-chan.”

Mine: “Eh? O-Onee-chan?”

Bodyguard A: “So . . . a woman.”

Mine: “!”

Bodyguard B: “I thought he was acting funny when he received the email at the bar. That ‘I’ve done it’ face. It seems that he missed a promised meetup with the woman.”

Mine: “Then, Daigo-san wanted to be alone . . .”

Bodyguard A: “Because he has a secret rendezvous. With who, I don’t know.”

Mine: “Somehow found . . .”

Bodyguard A: “A bad boy is attractive to a woman. Besides his money and his status, he’s also handsome.”

Mine: “. . . he said he wanted to move his body . . .”

Bodyguard B: “Heh. It’s nice to have a great time.”

Bodyguard A: “It can’t be helped. You should call it a night. You had a hard time too.”

Mine: “Stupid . . .”

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 3

.

[West Shichifuku Street]

Mine: “Did Daigo-san go somewhere in a taxi? And with a young woman?”

Bodyguard A: “Chairman Dojima is unmarried, has money, and he’s handsome. It’s no wonder he’s popular. Right now, he’s probably with a model or an actress.”

Bodyguard B: “He should be careful not to get involved in a scandal.”

Bodyguard A: “Now, let’s head back. You should go home too.”

Mine: “. . .”

----

Daigo: “. . .”

Thug Leader: “As promised, did you come alone?”

Daigo: “Yeah. My faithful subordinate tried to follow me, but I left without telling him where I went. I made him think I was secretly meeting with a woman.”

Thug Leader: “. . . Is that right. Did you bring the money?”

Daigo: “Yeah.”

{Daigo hands over a bag. The leader unzips it to reveal cash.}

Thug Leader: “. . . Everything seems to be here.”

Daigo: “Will you keep your end of the bargain?”

Thug Leader: “Yeah. Don’t lay a hand on Kiryu Kazuma. He’ll be living in peace in Okinawa from now on.”

Daigo: “. . .”

Thug Leader: “Even so, that Kiryu person must be really important to you.  . . . Is he your weak point?”

Daigo: “. . . What are you trying to say?”

Thug Leader: “It’s amazing that the Tojo Clan’s Sixth Chairman can be lured out over one person.”

Daigo: “What?”

Thug Leader: “You still don’t get it? I’m saying this time it’s your turn to be the hostage!! Stupid! The aim was to get you all alone from the very beginning! If we kidnap you, we’ll get far more ransom money!”

Daigo: “Fuck . . .”

Man’s voice: “So . . . it was all for Kiryu-san. I figured that would be the case.”

Daigo: “Mi-Mine?”

Mine: “Daigo-san, I had a hard time looking for you.”

Daigo: “Why are you here?”

Mine: “You think you can get away with such an obvious lie? . . . That barker, you paid him off.”

Daigo: “But he didn’t know about this place . . .”

Mine: “. . . Yeah. There are countless taxi companies in Kamurocho. Too many candidates to question where you went. And those guys won’t give out customer information, saying it’s ‘personal information’. So it couldn’t be helped. I had to resort to buying the taxis off. When that didn’t work, I bought off the taxi companies. When you become a stakeholder, you gain access to customers’ information.”

Daigo: “You did that for each company?”

Mine: “It took hundreds of millions. Heh. It was a huge expense.”

Daigo: “Mine . . . Why did you go so far . . . just for me?”

Mine: “. . . Daigo-san. I’ve shared a cup with you. That’s not something I take halfheartedly. I’m ready to sacrifice everything just for you. Forever and always. There are absolute bonds in the yakuza world . . . you taught me that.”

Daigo: “. . . Mine . . .”

Thug Leader: “O-Oi! Who are you to come barging in and interrupting us! I’ll kill you if you interfere!”

Daigo: “Kill him? You don’t seem to understand the situation. With this guy here, you’re the one who’s going to have a bad time.”

Thug Leader: “Ha?”

Daigo: “Mine here looks like a regular man . . . but don’t you know he’s actually really strong? I can trust him to have my back.”

Mine: “!”

Daigo: “. . . Mine. With you here, we can take on a hundred people.”

Mine: “Yeah. Let’s show them how we do things.”

Daigo: “Let’s go, Mine!”

Mine: “Yeah!”

{Mine and Daigo take down the whole gang.}

Thug Leader: “How . . . there are so many of us . . .”

Mine: “You . . . which organization are you with?!”

Thug Leader: “Guh! Th-That’s . . .”

Mine: “Answer me!!”

Thug Leader: “Ta-Takashima Family . . .”

Mine: “Takashima Family? As in ‘The Four Kings of Omi’ Takashima Family remnants? Chairman, what are you going to do? The Omi will want to hear this . . .”

Daigo: “. . . No, I won’t tell the Omi. Even with the conflict finally over, I don’t want to make needless waves over these excommunicated members. The police can handle them.”

Mine: “Is that so . . . . . . Daigo-san, will you finally tell me what’s going on this time?”

Daigo: “. . . Yeah. The thing is . . . I was being threatened before today.”

Mine: “Before?”

Daigo: “‘If you want to protect the peace of Kiryu Kazuma, pay the money. If you tell anyone, his peace will be lost.’ I got an email telling me where to go. Along with a stolen shot of Kiryu-san.”

Mine: “His peace . . . then that means they didn’t directly take Kiryu as a hostage, right?”

Daigo: “Yeah. If they did that, they would be in trouble. Their opponent is a legendary yakuza. However, there are many ways to ‘disturb the peace’.”

Mine: “So that’s why. And you’re Daigo-san. You wanted to protect him at all costs.”

Daigo: “. . . Yeah. I’ve secretly stationed a bodyguard around Kiryu-san. Just earlier, I received a photo of the bodyguard killed.”

Mine: “That’s the email you received at the bar . . .”

Daigo: “As soon as I saw that picture, I had to move.”

Mine: “Daigo-san, why didn’t you tell me this sooner? If you had, I would have been able to help.”

Daigo: “‘Someone is watching you’, the email said, so I couldn’t speak about it. In fact, there was a guy there at the bar watching us. And this is my personal problem. I didn’t want to get you involved.”

Mine: “That’s why . . . it’s unreasonable for you to act on your own. You are the Sixth Chairman of the Tojo Clan, an organization with hundreds of thousands of members in the East. I don’t know the Fourth Chairman or the Legendary Dragon, but acting alone to protect one individual . . .”

Daigo: “. . . It was unavoidable. Kiryu-san is a special person to me.”

Mine: “Which is more important, the clan or one person?”

Daigo: “! Th-That’s . . .”

Mine: “Before, you told me that the clan members are like your family. Isn’t that right? You’re giving priority to someone who’s not even a member of the clan. Are you not aware of that as the Chairman?”

Daigo: “Mine . . . you’re right. I’m sorry. I still have a long way to go.”

----

|A few days later . . .|

[Tojo HQ – Chairman’s Office]

Mine: “Eh? Me be the Headquarters’ Junior Head Assistant?”

Daigo: “Yeah. I’ve been looking for someone to be Junior Assistant.”

Mine: “. . .”

Daigo: “What? You don’t want to?”

Mine: “No, it’s just . . . the other day we had just been promoted to be a direct subsidiary of the clan. I haven’t raised any tribute since then.”

Daigo: “Didn’t you entrust your life to me? Did you not say you were prepared to sacrifice everything for me?”

Mine: “!”

Daigo: “. . . Mine. I realized something the other day. You . . . you’re the one I can trust with my back.”

Mine: “Daigo-san . . .”

Daigo: “In addition, there’s no one in the Tojo Clan now who can preach to me face-to-face besides Kashiwagi-san, Mine.”

Mine: “I might have gone a bit overboard . . .”

Daigo: “So what do you say? Will you accept it?”

Mine: “. . . Of course. I will be happy to accept it . . . Daigo-san.”

Daigo: “That’s great! I’m counting on you, Mine!”

----

[Tojo Headquarters]

Mine: (Junior Head Assistant. That was an unexpected harvest . . .)

Mine: (A man named Kiryu Kazuma. He’s a danger . . . I won’t let Daigo-san take such a reckless action again. I can’t leave that matter alone, as Daigo-san’s new Junior Assistant . . .)

.

-END-

Masterlist

[jungkookiebus]

The Client pt. 3 | kth

Genre: sexworker!au x smut x angst x fluff (for real this time) Pairing: sexworker!reader x taehyung Word Count: 6k Rating: 18+ Warnings: multiple orgasms (m&f) x taehyung and reader are basically switches x oral sex (m&f) x cum eating x fingering x nipple play x cum swapping? x unprotected sex x creampie Summary: The painful weeks after Taehyung’s accidental confession have the both of you living in agony. Just when the both of you thought you were over the other, you quite literally run into each other in the rain. Taehyung walks away from you into the dark night. Do you have the guts to go after him?

Taehyung’s days drug by endlessly. Each day stretched further than the next when all he wanted to do was get home as quickly as possible and pass out just as fast. When he was asleep at least he didn’t have to think about you, that is, if his brain decided to give him a break. Sometimes he’d dream that he got to replay that night again with you being none the wiser and he never said it. He’d get to see you again. But then he’d wake up to the harsh reality that simply wasn’t true. Then his miserable day would start all over again. He knew better than to request an appointment and he had written and rewritten the same email that now sat in his drafts, collecting hypothetical internet dust. He also made sure not to go to that same café again even if it was close to his office. Any thought of you sent a pain into his chest so sharp he could hardly stand it. You had probably forgotten how foolish he had been and moved on from him, just another client lost to the crowd. And in a way, Taehyung wished for that, but he was very wrong.

Your POV

Two weeks earlier

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes before you could stop them. You blinked fast, hoping they would just go away but the emotion was too strong. Taehyung had just told you he loved you and you could barely breathe as you looked at him, watching as his face turned red in shock.

“Taehyung, please clean up and leave.”

He didn’t even bother using the bathroom this time. He fumbled as quickly as he could with his clothes and exited the room but not before shooting a pained expression in your direction. You tried to direct anger at him because you needed him out of the room as quickly as possible and it seemed to work as he shut the door behind him. You burst into tears as soon as the door clicked shut and you curled up on your side as you shuffled under the blankets.

You had been in this line of work for years. This was your life, your passion and you didn’t see it as some skeezy side job that helped pay the bills, no, this was the job. Your interest in sex and various sexual partners was why you decided to go into this line of work, you had never been made out for relationships and you were beginning to think you were incapable of romantic feelings until you met him. But since this was your job, you quelled those feelings because, just as the job entailed, you had to put on an act. You hadn’t hoped that he noticed the little extra you poured into each session, and maybe he didn’t, but you suddenly felt responsible for this. There was no way you could have a relationship with him, not in this line of work. Jealousy was a bitter bitch and you weren’t about to deal with that.

But what if he didn’t care?

No, shut up. You can never expect someone to be okay with your sex work…

You cried a little harder into the sheets. No feelings. It was in all your contracts because you thought you didn’t have feelings, not in a sociopathic kind of way, but…you gripped harder at the sheets as you screamed into a pillow. Why did this have to happen to you? You needed to get home, but you were too miserable to move. Reaching out of the covers you reached to the bedside for your phone, thankful there were no missed calls or texts, you had to give him that. Going into your calendar you canceled all your next week’s appointments and followed it with a lengthy email feigning sickness and some half-hearted explanation on how to reschedule. You weren’t in the mood to see anyone right now and you planned to use the next week to get a little retrospective.

The week didn’t make anything better. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but he hadn’t tried to contact you at all. He was staying true to your contract’s rule of no feelings, staying out of your way and not requesting an appointment. Maybe he thought you had moved past it and was just hoping you’d forget. That would be the best for both of you. So why did it hurt so badly?

You opened your schedule just for the following Monday and a frequent client took one of your two spots immediately. You almost wished that he had at least tried to schedule but there were none. The regular exhilaration you felt about work was gone as you read the client’s requests. Such bland and boring things. Taehyung’s thighs in the white, silk stockings popped into your head as you dropped it into your hands. You squeezed your eyes and willed your brain to shut up as you groaned inwardly. His sharp breaths were in your ear as he held you close to him, his thigh between your legs. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes again. Why did he have to go and fucking say something? The both of you could have continued living this lie for a little longer. Your fingers dug into the roots of your hair as you willed yourself to stay the fuck away from your phone. Do not go texting or emailing anyone. You felt the softness of his curls dust across your fingertips. Your entire body ached, and you felt feverish. What was this feeling? You hated whatever it was.

Your appointment didn’t go well, which caused you to cancel your second slot and left the rest of your week off the schedule. You weren’t in it. He could tell and so could you. A job you once had passion in now felt cold and it scared you. Maybe when you saw your therapist again, you’d tell her about it, but for now you were going to stay home and away from technology.

Taehyung POV

Three weeks later

The pain had started to hurt a little less as time went by. Enough so that he had agreed to go to a party this coming Friday, finally feeling enough like himself to get out there again. His friend wanted to introduce him to some girl that worked at his firm and figured this was the fresh start he needed.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he held the paper bag wrapped bottle of wine he had procured on his way home from work. He wore a large, soft sweater and dark pants. Soft, he thought to himself. You had always liked when he dressed this way. He shook his head to clear the memory from his mind, wiping it clean with one swipe. Setting his shoulders straight he headed out of the door of his apartment and into the night. The air seemed to be charged with electricity. He squinted up through the city lights to see if he could get any glimpse of the night sky, but he didn’t see anything. One block into his six block walk, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled across the sky. He groaned as he realized his clear lack of umbrella. He quickened his pace, hoping he could make it before it started to pour.

Your POV

The night sky lit up above you as lightning streaked across it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You pulled your sweatshirt closer, not that it was waterproof, but you guessed it was something. You had two bags slung on one arm as you walked back home from the grocery store but had no idea the weather was supposed to get bad tonight.

“What did I do to deserve this?” you asked, face towards the sky as you felt the first drop hit your cheek.

You still had at least four blocks and by the way the wind picked up, this was going to hit sooner rather than later.

“Just don’t let me get pneumonia.”

You walked a little faster as the raindrops picked up. You heard with dread as behind you, they began to hit the buildings and pavement with more ferocity. Cold wind picked up, whipping around you, and bringing with it, cold ass rain. You shivered as it almost instantly soaked into the back of your pants and you cursed the minute you decided to step out of your apartment. You were stopped by a traffic light on a corner, continued to get soaked as you waited for the light to change. You dodged puddles as you skipped across the street quickly and didn’t realize there was someone else approaching just as quickly on the otherwise empty sidewalk. You didn’t have time to react as you ran square into someone’s chest before stumbling backwards. The stranger reached out for you, and to their credit, grabbed your hand but went down with you anyway. The both of you landed directly into probably the deepest puddle you had ever seen in your life, but at this point you were used to your shitty luck.

“Look, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Your entire body seized in fear because you knew that voice too well and it haunted your dreams, causing the new bags under your eyes. You wanted to sleep to forget, but you were afraid to fall asleep in fear that you might see his face.

“S’okay,” you mumbled quietly, gathering your bag and trying to stand quickly.

The rain poured harder and at this point you were soaked to your underwear and fucking miserable. Your back was to him as you attempted to flee the scene.

“Hey! Wait! Are you okay?” he called after you.

“Fine!” you called over your shoulder. The rain was pouring so hard he probably couldn’t hear you.

You felt his hand on your shoulder before he spoke. You were right under the streetlamp when you stopped dead in your tracks.

“This fell out of your bag.”

You had to turn around to get it back. Walking away would just be creepy and weird. Your hood was still up, but he’d know. You swiveled on your heel and looked up before you even fully faced him. His dark curls stuck cutely to his forehead; he was just as wet as you. His eyes widened in surprise and you looked down at the obvious bottle of wine in his hand. Looked like he was going on a date. So he had moved on. That’s exactly what you wanted so you weren’t sure why the pain in your stomach was so sharp. The apple sat in his hand so delicately and you suddenly missed those fingers more than you expected yourself to. You reached for it slowly and grasped it tightly before taking it.

“Thank you,” you mustered up. If any tears were to fall it wouldn’t be like he’d see them.

He looked pained and in shock. You were the last person he expected to see.

“Y-you’re welcome,” he stuttered out. He turned quickly and made his way down the sidewalk and back into the wet night.

You watched as he crossed under the next streetlight, tall frame falling into shadow again as he moved farther and farther away from you. You still stood, raindrops hitting the plastic bags and making your clothes feel ten times heavier. Your chest burned and you barely felt the cold as you cried, telling yourself to turn around and go home, but everything in your body screamed run.

You barely heard the cans, fruit, and glass bottles hit the ground as you dropped the bags and sprinted in the direction Taehyung had gone. The rain hit your face harder and it felt like you were running into the heart of the storm. He hadn’t left that long ago, so you should catch up to him soon, right?

“Taehyung!” you yelled as you tripped around an outdoor restaurant sign.

Tears fell freely now as you ran, feeling your shoes rubbing blisters on your heels as you slipped in them. Maybe he had turned down another block.

“Taehyung!” you yelled again as you stood on a street corner, but the sidewalks were barren.

You turned in circles, sobs coming out freely now as you gave in to the heartache. You had fucked up everything and now you were paying for it.

“_______?” you heard behind you.

You turned quickly and Taehyung stood, equally as soaked, and still clutching the wine bottle.

“Taehyung.” You were so surprised you weren’t sure what to say.

“I heard you calling me.” You saw the puffs of smoke drift from his mouth as the temperature dropped. You needed to get this out fast.

“I love you, too. I know it’s stupid. I know I said no feelings. I know I made you sign a contract. I never thought I was capable of loving someone else, but you did that for me. Over the months,” you gestured as you laughed nervously, “I started feeling things I had never experienced and that scared me. It was something I talked to my therapist about and,” you realized you were rambling and took a deep sigh. “I don’t want to let go of the one person who brought me those feelings.”

Taehyung stared at you, face unreadable as he searched yours. You felt that strange dread you always felt as a kid when you did something wrong, it ran from head to toe and made you feel sick. He was angry because you had rejected him and now, here you were, telling him you loved him. You knew it wasn’t fair, and you wouldn’t be mad at him if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings now.

The wine bottle hit the pavement with a dull crack as he moved forward. He had you gathered in his arms and lips on yours just as the sky opened a little wider, lightning lit up the buildings in an eerie blue glow. Thunder cracked overhead and tumbled across the sky like falling rocks down a mountainside. But Taehyung’s lips were warm on yours and you felt relief wash through you. Though, you felt as if you didn’t deserve it, he had accepted you.

“I don’t want to keep you from your date.” Your words came out shaky as you shivered, cold hands against his wet sweater.

He looked a little stunned at your comment.

“It wasn’t really…a date.”

Your heart plummeted again, despite getting what you wanted.

“Besides, fuck that date.”

He grabbed your hand and headed in the direction of his home, which was coincidentally not too far from yours, but he was in an upscale high rise closer to downtown. The both of you dripped across the marble of the lobby as he directed you to the elevator. You both stood, shoulder to shoulder, shivering, and exchanging awkward glances as you made it to his floor. Once he had you in his apartment, he turned the heater on low, as he guided you through his tastefully decorated apartment. Expensive looking art donned the walls of the hallway he led you down and each had their special lighting. The bathroom he led you too was fit for hotel suite as he stepped into the walk in shower and started the water. He stepped back out and up to you, hands tentative on the bottom of your soaked through sweatshirt. He pulled the dripping fabric over your head and you shivered as the cold air hit your skin. You crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm as he peeled your sweats off your legs.

“Get in the shower,” he said softly.

You slowly walked inside, easing under the stream of warm water, and reveled in the feeling of your limbs finally defrosting. He followed behind you, stepping under the rainfall shower with you, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close.

“I’m sorry for kicking you out.”

“I breached my contract.”

His hand was reassuring on the back of your head as your cheek pressed against his chest. He was right and you had every right to do what you did, but you wouldn’t have felt bad about anyone else.

“Yea, that wasn’t very fair to throw that at me.”

He held his breath a little, expecting you to tell him the truth, but still not ready when you said it.

“I know. My mouth moved before my brain could catch up and I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

He sounded so sincere in his apology and he hadn’t tried to contact you at all this entire time.

“What now?”

Taehyung’s POV

What were you supposed to do now? He hadn’t really expected to be here in this position. Across the bathroom, his phone vibrated on the counter. Probably his friend wondering where he was as he stood up his somewhat blind date. But he was exactly where he wanted to be three weeks ago, standing here with you in his arms. He wanted to ask if you were real. You shivered slightly as you continued to warm up and he held you closer to him. He missed the feeling of your skin against his. You were here with him and it wasn’t an appointment and he wasn’t under any contract.

Instead of answering your question, he released his hand to tilt your chin upwards so that he could kiss you properly. You sighed softly against his lips and he felt the familiar flutter in his chest that he only associated to being in your presence. His lips were against yours in a gentle kiss, touching just for a moment when he whispered.

“Use me.”

You looked startled by his statement and somewhat confused.

“W-what do you mean?”

His thumb was against your chin, rubbing lightly along your skin as he continued to stare into your eyes. He wanted you to know that everything he said from this point forward was from his heart.

“Use me like everyone uses you. I know it’s your job, but when was the last time you did something you wanted? Use me in any way you want, anywhere you want. You name it, and I’ll do it.”

You were biting your lip as he spoke. He knew you were doing it in thought, but the action had him wanting to bite down on the pink flesh himself, but he waited. You searched his face as he watched the gears in your head turn. It seemed as if this were the first time you were being asked this question. He slid his hand along the small of your back, drawing you closer.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said as he dipped lower to your face again. You blushed deeply as he brought his face closer. “Are you shy now?”

“No,” you whispered.

“You know,” he started, “the last session; the one I—anyway, you were behind me one day in a coffee shop by my office, but you were on the phone so you didn’t notice me.” Your eyes widened in surprise. “You looked so casual, so relaxed, so you. I wanted that version of you, so that’s who I created for that session; that was the only way I could really be close to you.”

A knowing sigh passed your lips and cooled the water on his face. “I had begun to wonder…I suspected you had feelings some time ago.”

He felt ashamed for letting too much through and putting you in a difficult position. In a sick way, it worked out for him, but he was hoping that with time you’d let him make it up to you.

“What would you like me to do?” He let his voice drop, sounding gentle, but tried to entice something from you.

Your POV

Your body shook at the timbre of his voice and you wanted to basically climb him right here in the shower. What fantasy of yours did you want? There were so many. A few didn’t fit into this situation, some were questionable, maybe a few were embarrassing, but you knew he would do literally anything you asked of him.

“Do you still have the stockings?”

You felt him grow a little bit harder against you, cock twitching on your stomach as the hand on your back tightened.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“The shirt?”

“It’s at the dry cleaner, but I definitely have a substitute.”

Reaching behind you, you turned off the shower.

“Put them on.”

Taehyung complied immediately, stepping from the shower to grab you a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dried himself quickly as he slipped into the connecting closet. You towel dried your hair so that the cold water wouldn’t drip down your back as you waited. A few minutes passed before he stepped back out of the closet. Instinctively, you started at his feet, admiring the silk wrapped around his calves and then his thighs. His cock was fully erect now, a subtle pink glow to his skin. The shirt he had on looked expensive and tailor made. He left it unbuttoned, but it fit perfectly across his broad shoulders, sleeves ending at his wrists. You walked forward and rubbed the fabric between your fingers. It was the softest cloth you had ever felt, and it flowed like air across his skin. The white of the shirt only accentuated the honey color of his skin as you ran your fingers over his stomach.

“Will this be okay?” He sounded like a child waiting for appraisal from its elder.

“This is perfect, Taehyung,” you said while still running your hands over his body. They now rested on the outside of his thighs. You really did like the way he looked in these.

Slowly, you eased yourself to your knees in front of him. He looked surprised as his eyebrows disappeared beneath his hair. Something primal inside of you stirred as he stood towering over you, wrapped in soft fabric, with his hard cock right in front of your face. To say you missed him would be an understatement. You wrapped your hand around him gingerly, knowing just how sensitive he was. His hips barely moved as your soft hand closed around the base. You ran your other hand up his stockinged thigh, feeling his muscles flex beneath your palm. He groaned as you reached around to grasp a handful of his ass in your hand. Pushing him forward, you guided his cock between your lips and sunk as far as you could, your nose kissing your finger. His hands flexed at his sides as he further became submissive in your hands. He was falling and was more than willing to receive whatever was at the bottom. You held him there in your mouth for a few seconds, letting him feel the warmth of you wrapped around him, tongue moving along the sensitive skin on the bottom of his cock. You watched him as his head tilted down to look at you. His hair hung in half dried curls, framing his perfect face and suddenly you thought you had never seen anyone more beautiful than him. You slipped back slowly, leaving your hand at the base, until just the tip was nestled between your lips like a lollipop. Sucking lightly, you came off with a pop, never breaking eye contact. His body flushed with goosebumps as your eyes continued to dare him to look away. Precum still leaked from his cherry red tip. It glistened in the bright lights of the bathroom, beckoning like a sweet dessert. You wanted more of him, to devour him whole and make him yours forever. Taking him in your mouth, you sank down quicker this time, pulling back and setting a rhythm. His muscles twitched beneath your hand as you kept it on his ass, almost pushing him in time with your mouth. His moans pitched, echoing off the marble walls, a symphony with the most beautiful note. He was biting harshly into his bottom lip as he kept his eyes locked on yours. He wanted so badly to screw his eyes shut but didn’t dare look away. You saw his eyes well with tears, a few escaping down his nose until it dripped perfectly underneath your own eye. Your name tumbled from his lips in quick gasps now.

“_ ____, I’m g-gonna come, oh my god.” He didn’t seem to be getting enough air as he forced his orgasm to wait. His skin was hot beneath your hand and his cock was so hard in your mouth you were sure he was using a great amount of self-control.

Not wanting him to lose it, you pulled off quickly saying, “Come.” Before you sank back down on him, removing your hand and pushing him far back into your throat. His groan was guttural as he almost doubled over, fingers soft on your shoulders in case he lost his balance, as he came in hot spurts down your throat. He was against your gag reflex, but you focused on breathing through your nose and concentrated on your breath. Both hands were tight on his thighs now just so you could feel the way they moved beneath your hands. His hips stuttered forward into your mouth in a few shallow thrusts until you felt the last drops. No longer able to breathe this way, you pulled off his cock and quickly swallowed so that you could exhale.

“Fuck,” you whispered through a raw gasp.

Taehyung’s hands were on his knees as he stumbled backwards, ass meeting the cold counter, and he slumped back. He looked like a perfect statue carved from the most precious stone. His dark hair stuck to his cheeks in sweat or water, you weren’t sure which. The white silk shirt was soaked through and plastered to his skin and it accentuated the soft muscle of his chest. It opened perfectly to expose his stomach and frame his bottom half. His cock was still hard, and the stockings had stayed in place. You licked your lips and rubbed your thighs together as you drank him in. He cocked an eyebrow when he looked at you, finger coming up in a ‘come here’ motion. You stood, sauntering over and his eyes raked over your body hungrily. Slotting yourself between his legs, you ran your finger under his chin, and then your thumb over his bottom lip. He was looking into your eyes, waiting for your next command.

“You have to make me come no less than three times.” You let your eyes flutter innocently to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “By any means possible.”

Taehyung inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer again. With a sigh he kissed you and you fell into it, body, and soul. One of his hands went between your legs as he continued to devour you. You moaned, fingers digging into the stockings as he rubbed his fingers along your slit, gathering every bit of you that spilled on his fingers before circling your clit. You gasped in his mouth as he pinched your nipple between his fingers and twisted lightly. You moved your hips over his fingers, and he stilled, letting you do the work. He pinched a little harder on your nipple as he bit down on your bottom lip. You moved faster now, circling, and grinding your hips on his fingers. God, how you missed these fingers. You were all but crying into his mouth when your muscles began to tense. Your calves ached as your toes curled painfully, but the pain wasn’t going to make you stop the rhythm that was soon going to send you over the edge. As your whines pitched and your entire body began to shiver, Taehyung twisted your nipple harshly and pressed harder against your clit. You ground against him, breathing heavily through your nose as Taehyung seemed to be intent in gathering every moan you had. You couldn’t help the clench in your jaw when you came, making your lips immobile against his. You keened and your breath seized in your chest. His lips were at the corner of your mouth as you wet his fingers even more, hips slowing to a halt as you finally let out an exhale.

“One,” he whispered as he placed a kiss to your cheek.

Your body was already beginning to feel the sleepy side effects of your orgasm, but you knew you could take it. He pushed you back lightly as he stood in front of you, placed his hands on your shoulders and switched positions, picked you up and sat you on the edge of the counter.

“Now it’s my turn,” he smiled as he dropped to his knees. He spread your legs as wide as he could, warm hands on the insides of your thighs, so that he could get a better look. Your skin shone with your cum and Taehyung didn’t want to waste another second without tasting you. He leaned forward and licked a long, slow stripe up your center. His tongue dipped inside of you quickly and curled. He drew it back out and swallowed.

“How does it taste?” you asked as you buried your fingers into his hair and pushed him a little harder against you when his lips were back on you.

“Mmpf,” he moaned into you as he fucked you with his tongue. His nose pressed against your clit as you wound your fingers into the hair at his nape. He shook his head quickly against you and with your other hand planted on the counter behind you, you began to move your hips against his face. Taehyung wrapped his arms around your thighs so that he could pull you as close as possible. His eyes opened to meet yours and his pupils were so blown that you could no longer see the chocolate color there. He looked beautiful between your legs on his knees, almost as if he were born for this. His mouth told you this truth. He knew your body more intimately that any other client you had ever had. He knew the perfect ways to edge you, and at the end, have you coming so hard that your vision darkened. He moaned now, sending vibrations straight into your clit. Your entire body was so hot, and it was soon hard to keep your sweaty palm from slipping against the counter. Holding his head, you ground as hard as you could and with the combination of his tongue and the deep rumbles escaping his throat, you came again. He kept his mouth on you, tongue hot inside as you clenched. He drank you in as if you were his last meal. Gently, he nuzzled his nose against your swollen clit, licking up all that he could of you. When he sat back, you saw your creamy cum on his lips and chin. You grasped his chin, forcing him to rise on his knees as you came down, licking the cum from his lips slowly. It was bittersweet against your tongue and Taehyung moaned. Your tongue was past his lips and the taste of you was even stronger on his.

“Are you tired yet?” he asked smugly when you pulled away.

“You wish.”

His smile was devastating as he stood. What you wouldn’t give to see that smile every day of your life. Were you willing to sacrifice for him? Mid-lust ____ probably shouldn’t think about this right now. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you as he leaned, looking at your face.

“Can I make love to you?” he asked.

Your body flushed and shivered involuntarily, and you felt new arousal bloom in your stomach. Something about the way he said it had you wanting to simultaneously coo over him and fuck his brains out.

“Yes.”

What more was there to say? He rubbed his cock along your slit and your gaze cast downwards to watch. The stockings still looked perfect and the shirt was still giving him every favor. He pushed in slow, feeling your swollen walls take him in fully. When he bottomed out, you gasped and clung to his shoulders as his hips began to move. His breath shuddered against your skin as he buried his face into your neck. His fingers dug into your hips as he quickened his pace. You weren’t sure what you did to get blessed with someone whose cock curved perfectly into your g-spot, but in this moment, you weren’t complaining. Your clit was already so sensitive that any move against it had your stomach clenching and your eyes rolling. It really wouldn’t take much for him to make you come a third time and you were really hoping he wasn’t taking this as a challenge. You wove your hands under his arms and dug your fingers into his shoulder blades as you pushed yourself more into him. Taehyung breathed heavily against you.

“Are you going to come, princess?” He picked his head up and was now placing hot kisses to the underside of your jaw. Your body felt as if it were about to melt through the counter and you clung desperately to him. You couldn’t even talk, your chest burned, and he was hitting your g-spot so rapidly that you could barely form a simple word. But for him, you would do this.

“T-tae,” you stuttered.

He didn’t stop as his lips that were against your cheek, parted. “Yes?”

“I love you,” you whispered as you gave into the feeling of him. Your third orgasm hit and this one melted into your body, soothing and erasing all the bad things that had happened in the past few weeks.

You weren’t sure if what you heard from him was a choked sob or just the sheer force of his orgasm, but seconds later he spilled inside of you, hips still moving. He shivered in your arms again. You let him thrust through his orgasm even though you felt as if you were on fire. You’d do anything for him. When he looked at you again, you realized that he had begun to cry. Tears welled in his soft eyes as he cupped your cheeks. He sniffed and his eyes moved rapidly as he looked at every part of your face. Your hands were on his wrists, gently applying pressure.

“Tae, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head as he sniffed louder and laughed. The tears spilled freely now and the juxtaposition to his smile was almost haunting.

“Nothing’s wrong.” His tears slowed and his dewy cheeks began to dry. His hands were still pressing softly into your skin as he seemed lost for words. “I just still can’t believe you’re here.”

The full weight of his feelings for you and all the emotions you flowed through the last few weeks, came rushing down on you like a tidal wave.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, too!” he cried as he quickly wiped at the tears escaping the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. We’re meant to be happy right now, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you said as you gently shushed him. “I am happy. That’s why I’m crying.”

“So,” he whispered softly, face open and innocent, “do you think we can make this work?”

Could you? Who knew? There was much to talk about, and you weren’t even sure where you would start. You definitely needed to talk to your therapist about this but, right now, you knew you didn’t want to let this feeling go. You had gone years thinking you weren’t capable of love or being loved. Who knew it would take a client of yours to pull out those feelings you were sure your brain had dumped at birth? How far were you willing to go?

All you knew was that you were ready to traverse even the most difficult path if it meant Taehyung would be waiting for you at the end.

“Yea,” you whispered back as you squeezed his wrists a little more, “I think we can make it work.”

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Rough Drafts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Explicit descriptions of a murder scene, argument, angst, and cursing.

A/N: Okay, so I know I said I was gonna publish this yesterday but I got Cassandra Clare’s newest book and I couldn’t put it down. I seriously love that lady. Omg. Anyways, it’s here now! And it’s angsty! And there’s gonna be a fourth part soon I promise! For real. Don’t forget to reblog, comment, send me an ask or a message and overall just adore me so that I may continue to feel good about myself. As always thank you for supporting me and I hope you enjoy!!!

[ Part One | Part Two ]

___

An incredulous laugh bursts from your lips, your nails cutting crescent moons into the palms of your hands as you try and convince yourself that this isn’t actually happening.

“Do you have alibis for your whereabouts on Monday, June eighth, Saturday, June thirteenth, and Thursday, June eighteenth?” Spencer can see your leg bouncing rapidly under the table, your eyes flying over the pictures and the expression of Emily Prentiss. You seem genuine, but he can’t trust himself to get an accurate read of you anymore.

“I, uhm, I- I wouldn’t know off the top of my head. I keep a planner, I’ll forget things otherwise.” The burst of iron in your mouth is not something you’re unused to, having chewed your cheek so badly that the skin there has broken under your teeth.

“We’ll need to see that.” Emily isn’t sure whether or not she believes that you’re guilty, watching the way you seem to unravel before her. When you look at the crime scene photos, it isn't with any pleasure, but with disgust. Your nose wrinkles a little at the bridge and you keep looking away as the blood from your face starts to drain. 

Either you’re a really good actress or you aren’t the unsub.

Emily says as much as she flips through the small teal planner that you’d willingly given them. Due dates for chapters, publishing events, book signings and days for book tours fill most of the pages in your most neat handwriting. Dates you plan to go visit your mother, grocery shop, doctor’s appointments, even plans to go somewhere and write.

Everything is explicitly stated, that way you’re never unsure of what you meant to tell yourself. That is, until around three weeks ago when a handful of days are notated with an ‘S,’ followed by a random doodle. Sometimes it’s a tiny heart drawn absentmindedly while you discuss the plans over the phone, other times it’s a cartoon bunny or a top hat.

Garcia is the first to take notice of it, her fingers faltering in their constant thrum against the keyboard in front of her. She glances out of the side of her glasses, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“Looks like lonely girl found herself a boo.” 

“That makes sense,” JJ says from the chair she’s pulled into Penelope’s office from the bullpen. A pen is stretched between her hands, her posture relaxed into the curve of the stiff, government-issued rolly chair.

All the girls have gathered into the tech analyst’s room while the men take turns interrogating you. Well, all except Spencer. He just stands behind that window watching your every move with eyes like a hawk. “What doesn’t make sense is why she keeps it secret even in her personal planner.”

“Maybe she has a stalker? That could be who is doing all this?” 

“Then she wouldn’t keep careful notation of everything else going on in her life. A stalker would follow her every move, not just her romantic interests. Even if he is in love with her.”

“A partner, maybe? Like the days they planned the murders or days they were acted out?”

“None of the days line up with the crimes, save for this one,” Emily leans the book toward the two women with her finger just underneath June fifth, the day Alison Crane was abducted from outside her campus dorm room. It’s the third ‘S’ scribbled into the corner of a day in the entire book.

“And there is nothing else written in relation to this ‘S’ character?” JJ shakes her head, looking for any clues that could be nestled among the loops and curls of your writing. Reid would be better at this, he was the graphology expert among them. So why wasn’t he back here helping?

“Then I guess we better try and get her to talk about it. Meanwhile Garcia, we’ll get Rossi and Reid to head over to her apartment and you can hack into her computer?” Penelope spins the chair, a flash of bright colors and blond hair. She clicks her tongue in response, throwing up a fingers gun and winking.

“Whatever you need me to do, I’m on it like sexy on Derek Morgan stepping out of the shower in a towel.”

After some arguing, and maybe just a little bit of pleading, they manage to convince Reid to join Rossi on a trip to your apartment. He can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable, standing in your living room. Not because he’d been here before, but because he’d never been here before.

The empty mugs that litter every surface, smelling of old coffee and your favorite coffee creamer (he only knows it’s your favorite because you explicitly ask for that creamer at every coffee shop the two of you have ever gone to), is unfamiliar to him. He’s invited you to his apartment at least three times. How come he had never been to yours?

Small pages and notebooks of scribbled ideas and dialogues cover just as many areas as the coffee cups do, your handwriting messy and cramped in every note. It’s almost like you couldn’t get the idea out of your head fast enough.

The bed in your room is meticulously made without a wrinkle in sight, but that could be because of the obvious bed you’ve made yourself along the salmon pink couch that stretches out in front of your TV. A multicolored crochet blanket is thrown haphazardly over the back, a pillow still slightly squished against the arm.

On the coffee table is a half opened laptop, a notebook with red and black ink scribbled in the lines, and a still full cup of coffee. Rossi makes quick work of calling Garcia and helping her get patched into your computer. It’s strange, watching her move the mouse on your screen from miles away.

Reid never stops moving, walking the length of your studio apartment with his eyes peeled for any kind of information he could find. It’s obvious that you spend most of your time in the main room, which houses the kitchen, a small dining area, and the living room. A door leading into your room branches off to a small bathroom which is just as disorganized as everything else in your house.

Hair products, skin washes, and all kinds of makeup are scattered across the sink and back of your toilet. It’s funny because every time he’s ever met up with you, you’re bare faced and your hair is still drying from the shower you took before leaving your house. The tube of lipstick he picks up makes him think he doesn’t really know you at all.

On the nightstand in your room is a bottle of water with the label ripped off and the two Rossi books you’d bought that fateful day in the bookstore. The label from the water bottle is stuck between the middle pages of one of the books. The passages in question don’t lend anything to connecting you as a homicidal maniac, let alone a serial killer.

Back in the living room, Garcia is snooping through every aspect of your computer.

“I don’t know whether or not the be freaked out by her web history. There’s a lot of murder-y questions here. ‘Signs of a post mortem amputation,’ ‘How much blood can you lose and still live?,’ ‘Most brutal ways to be killed.’ It’s creepy.” Rossi is flicking through the notebook from the table, his eyes squinted as he tried to make sense of the abbreviations and scribblings of another writer.

“She writes crime novels so it isn’t entirely strange for her to be looking at those types of things.” Thankfully, the defense of your web search history comes from the older man who looks up as Garcia delves deeper and deeper. Spencer had thought it first, but hadn’t said anything to avoid suspicion. He’s smart enough to know that the truth has to come out eventually, but he wants to be sure of your innocence (or guilt, he reminds himself a bit glumly) before he reveals your link to him.

“I’m not seeing anything she could be using to contact a partner unless her partner is one of the publishing people she’s constantly messaging via email.” At this Spencer stops, leaning against the back of the couch with his weight resting on the heels of his hands. The stance appears relaxed. He is anything but.

“Why do we assume she has a partner?” Reid asks, impatiently pushing a stray curl away from his face. Rossi glances at him curiously, otherwise undistracted from the shake the movement gives the couch.

“Oh, Prentiss, JJ, and I were looking through her little teal book earlier and the only thing not explicitly stated was just the letter ‘S.’ It’s why they came back to interrogate and they sent you guys to her house. I thought they told you.”

Spencer wants to beat his head against the wall.

“That isn’t a lead, Garcia. You have to tell them that ‘S’ isn’t her partner.” The mouse on the computer screen falters, several saved documents for different rough drafts of books or drabbles are pulled up the way you might have papers scattered about in front of you.

“What is it? Do you know who ‘S’ is?” Rossi is turned sideways on the couch, looking over the back and up at the distressed man in front of him. It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots when they make eye contact. Penelope impatiently whines over the phone.

“I’m ‘S,’ I’ve been seeing her for the last three weeks. I’m sure if you tell me the dates then every single one of them will be days that we’ve had plans together.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Before anyone has the chance to say anything else, the door to Garcia’s office opens and a second voice filters through Rossi’s phone speaker. It’s JJ.

“Let Reid and Rossi know there’s just been another murder.”

This time it’s a fifteen year old girl. Her hair is black and wet, her lips are as blue as the sky, and she’s naked. Water droplets from her skin have soaked into the sheet of paper that was layed over her chest. The bathtub she’s in is completely empty, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that she was drowned there. The bruises on her shoulders from the force the unsub used to pin her down are dark against the contrast of her already pale skin.

...The man leaned over the tub, his eyes squinted in thought and his lips skewed a little to the side. Ryder stayed focused on the crime scene, for the most part. But even detectives of her caliber, and higher, could easily get lost in the eyes that look up at her from beneath long golden-brown lashes.

“Detective?” She blinks the distraction away, looking back at the girl, her black hair wet and spiraling like the snakes on Medusa’s head against the ivory siding of the drained tub. Ryder can’t help but wish the girl had been lucky enough to turn her killer to stone. Maybe it would have saved her.

“Agent.” She crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man across from her, pretending to look for any useful clues. Ryder had gotten to the crime scene fourty-five minutes before the pair of FBI Agents had walked in. The man, who had introduced himself as Supervisory Special Agent Matthew Gray, had decided to join her in the second floor bathroom. His partner, a woman named Katherine Swift, had taken to looking for clues through the rest of the house.

Agent Gray is beautiful. It’s the only adjective that seems to stick to him with certainty, every other aspect of his personality just as elusive as the exact color of those eyes. Even as short as his hair is, the golden brown tendrils are unkempt and curl every which way. Ryder has to force her hand to stay at her side and not reach up to smooth an alfalfa that does nothing for the serious expression on his face.

She keeps imagining what it would feel like if he reached out to kiss her, curling his fingers into her hair and bringing her unworthy lips up to meet his. He’s tall so she would probably have to stretch a little, but she wouldn’t mind. Not when his hands are tangled in her hair and he’s giving her the kiss she’s been silently begging for since the moment he flashed that crooked grin at her.

The imagination is so vivid that she jumps when her own partner, Detective Russo, comes around the corner of the hallway and straight into the bathroom...

The paper crinkles in the evidence bag as Morgan places it on the table, trying to ignore the daggers being glared into him on the other side of the mirror.

Nobody on the team had been very happy with Spencer when they heard the news about your relationship, Hotch had nearly snatched him by the scruff of his neck when he made to go into the interrogation room. But after several minutes of thoroughly explaining himself, Hotch had sent Morgan in. To say Spencer was infuriated was an understatement.

“Do you know what this is, (Y/N)?” You look down at it, twisting the evidence bag so that you could read the Times New Roman font you always wrote in when writing in Microsoft Word. The words cover the front and back of the copy paper, but you don’t have to read it through all the way before you know what it is.

“It’s a page from my newest book.” The bag scratches against the tabletop as you push it away from you, crossing your arms over your chest. Your face is stoplight red with embarrassment at the thought of Spencer reading this page, mostly because you had pulled so heavily from your own thoughts when first meeting Spencer to write Ryder and Gray’s first meeting. You created Matthew Gray to write about Spencer Reid in a way that felt less ‘high school diary entry.’

“More specifically, it’s from the book you just started working on about a month ago. The one that only you and your agent have access to.” Finally, Morgan sits. Before, he’d just been pacing around you the way a lioness might stalk around her prey before she launches an attack. It made you uneasy, but that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

“Do you know where we found it, (Y/N)?” His muscles bulge against his shirtsleeves when he leans them up on the table. Derek Morgan is a very attractive man, you’ll give him that, but if making you uneasy and putting you in the room with a attractive man to fluster you was their strategy then they should have sent in Spencer.

“My computer.”

“We found it on the body of a dead girl.” Another picture joins the ones already shuffled around the table. You can barely look at it, nausea and tears building in your throat at the sight of another person dying the same way you’d written in a story. When you don’t respond, Morgan continues.

“‘She was found at the bottom of an empty bathtub, a pale leg hooked over the edge of the porcelain siding, and her arms pinned to her sides in death. Bruises discolored the skin at her shoulders, and Ryder knew at first glance that her cause of death would be asphyxiation by drowning.’” He drops the paper back to the table, having picked it up to read the passage from the end of the page.

“That’s wrong,” You say, leaning back over the table to look at the paper again. Derek looks down, like the words might have changed in the moment he looked away, but the text stays exactly the same as before.

“That’s exactly what is written here.” You shake your head, pulling the bag back to you and wrinkling your forehead in thought.

“I don’t doubt that is what you read, Agent Morgan,” Your eyes fly over the page, reading the end of the excerpt with overwhelming relief. The bag sticks a little to the pad of your index finger as you tap over the paragraph in question. “But I rewrote this scene only two nights ago. It’s on my computer, I’m sure your tech analyst can confirm my claim. This girl, Bella, she doesn’t die from drowning anymore. Her hands are tied above her head to the faucet and she’s strangled. I couldn’t decide if I wanted it to be by her sister or her girlfriend.”

JJ rushes back to Penelope’s office, on a mission to confirm your statement just as you had suggested. Meanwhile, Morgan’s mind is rushing to figure out the mess he is currently sat in. You lean back in your chair now, unsure if the dizziness you feel is from lack of food or the sudden realization that they couldn’t pin this to you anymore.

“I’m not your bad guy. If I was doing this to prove to my mother that my writing is good, that I chose the right career, as your profile says, I wouldn’t change the scene in my book and not change the murder.” In Morgan’s earpiece, Hotch tells him that you were telling the truth about editing the scene two nights ago.

“Unless you planned it to throw us off track. We know about your relationship with Spencer, you’ve probably found out all kinds of things to do to keep us from catching you.”

You clench your teeth, straightening into your chair and pinning Derek down with a look you’d learned from your mother. It makes him think of his mom, your eyes narrowed and your gaze so cold that it could cause frostbite. He watches curiosily as you tilt your chin up a little, trying to hide the pricks behind your eyes and the wobble of your lip. Derek notices them, the entire team notices. They’re trained to notice.

“I want a lawyer.” You say simply, you voice is sharp and quiet but it does the job of slicing through the tension already building in the room.

“Come on, you don’t need a lawyer.”

“That’s where you’re wrong again, Agent Morgan. I do need a lawyer. Because even though I have full-heartedly trusted the justice system since I was in diapers, and even though I came to these offices willing to help your team in any way that I could, you are still trying to use me as a scapegoat instead of actually doing your fucking job and finding the bastard who is killing people in my name.

“A study from criminal law bulletin says that 10,000 people are wrongfully convicted of serious crimes every year. One in every twenty-five people sentenced to death are innocent, Agent Morgan. Just since 1973, more than 160 people were exonerated from the death penalty. That’s not even counting the people who were killed. But you sure as hell aren’t about to make me apart of that statistic because you want to waste your time trying to piece an investigation around me. That’s not how you’re supposed to do your job. So until you can remember how to do it correctly, I do need a lawyer. Thank you.”

By the time you finish you’ve leaned over the table, your index finger jammed into the wood to make your point. It feels like your chest is on fire as you slam back into your seat and cross your arms, determined to keep your silence for the rest of the time you were forced to sit here.

Everyone on the opposite side of the mirror is stunned into silence, their eyes focused on you even as Derek gathers all the things from the desk and walks out looking a little flustered himself. If Spencer was totally honest, your outburst was actually kind of hot. He has to remind himself that you may have killed eight people in cold blood.

Your lawyer makes it to the BAU in record time, his red hair expertly gelled back from his face. His icy blue eyes only cracking when he sees you sitting by yourself in the interrogation room. Spencer can tell by the way that he lowers himself on the balls of his feet to talk to you, reaching out to touch the hand that sits on your thigh, that he knows you personally. He likes you, actually. Spencer tried to tell himself that it doesn’t make him glad when you pull your hand out of his and awkwardly pat his arm.

He’s been lying to himself a lot today.

Hotch is the one to go back in the room, he was the best at dealing with lawyers. Unfortunately his best wasn’t enough to keep you in custody and soon your lawyer, who Spencer learned was named Jeremy, was walking you out of the room for the first time in six hours.

Your back cracks when you stand, your shoulders rolling back to try and ease some of the stress you’d been holding there since this morning. The sound of the door swinging open for you is almost heavenly, the feel of the air outside of the room is damn near enough to make you cry.

When you look to the side, ready to leave out the second door that leads into the hallway and away from this mess, you meet eyes with the only profiler of the BAU that you hadn’t seen that day. Spencer looks back at you with an expression that you find hard to put into words.

He almost looks sorry, the regret evident in the slight widening of his eyes, but at the same time his chin is tilted up like he is facing an enemy he has vowed to take down no matter the cost. His shoulders are squared, but his arms are uncrossed and his palms are open.

And even though you knew you wouldn’t be there without him knowing, the reassurance that Spencer knew and even suspected you is like a blow to the chest and stomach. It robs you of air, causing you to stumble.

Jeremy reaches to steady you. You shake him off, pulling your eyes from the young doctor and focusing all of your attention on the door knob.

“I’m fine, Jeremy.” Your tone of voice is more harsh than you intended but you’re still struggling to collect oxygen, even when you slide into your car by yourself, it feels like you can’t get enough air. The walk from the BAU offices to the parking lot had passed in a blur. Jeremy’s talk about staying at home and keeping your head low had gone by even faster, and now that you have time to truly be by yourself, everything hits like a ton of bricks thrown at you from a speeding train.

In the midst of your panic attack, gasping for air into the palms of your shaking hands, questioning everything about yourself and your career, you don’t register the shuffle of movement in your backseat. You’re so deep in your mind that you almost don’t notice the cool press of a gun barrel against the back of your neck until a familiar voice lifts your head from your hands.

“Drive.”

[pigtownchronicles]

Chapter 2.3 - Getting the Runaround

As soon as Dennis stepped into the lobby at Precinct 27 on Tuesday around noon, he gave a little grimace. This was not the well kept, shiny sort of police station they had out in the suburbs (or at least, it wasn’t the idea of a well kept, shiny police station that he had in mind, since he had never stepped foot in one aside for a tour with the boy scouts when he was a teenager). The room was dimly lit, the tiles were dingy and didn’t look like they’d seen a mop in quite some time. There was one cop at a desk behind a plexiglass partition, but it didn’t look like he was doing any work--just reading a magazine or something, leaning back, and...no, he couldn’t be doing that, that would be so unprofessional!

Dennis cleared his throat as he stepped up towards the glass, and the officer sighed, put down the magazine under the counter, and scooted forward. If he had been engaging in something unpleasant down there, he made no effort to zip back up. Dennis hoped he’d been wrong in his assumption. “Hi, I’d like to file a report,” he said when he got to the glass.

“What about?”

“A club in the area. Depot. I was there on Friday, and I witnessed more code violations than I’d have liked to see. Underage drinking, indoor smoking, drug dealing, public sex, all sorts of stuff.”

He’d expected a little bit of concern from the officer, but he just looked somewhere between bored and annoyed that Dennis was standing in front of him at all. “That sounds like a job for the liquor control board and the health department, bud,” he said.

“I already called both of those places, and they said that, for whatever reason, Precinct 27 handles that stuff around here, so here I am.”

“Ah, I see. Alright, well, we’ll look into it then.”

Dennis stood there in the silence, and he realized that the officer was just expecting him to leave, after that. “Aren’t you going to take my name or number? File a report? I’m a witness.”

With a heavy sigh, the officer pulled out a pad of paper--not even anything official looking, and a pen. “Name?”

“I’d like to speak to your supervisor,” Dennis said.

“He’s out.”

“Out?”

“Yeah, he’s out. It’s lunchtime. You can wait if you want, but you look like a real busy fellow. Or how about this, you can give me your name.”

Dennis sighed, gave the officer his name, phone number and address, then watched as he tossed the pad back in the drawer beside him and closed it. “I’ll make sure to inform an investigator, don’t you worry.”

The condescension was almost enough for Dennis to take the man up on his offer and wait there for his supervisor to come back, but likely that would just waste more time, and he still had appointments that afternoon at the hospital. So he left. No wonder Depot was flouting the law so brazenly, if this is the sort of enforcement this part of town was dealing with. He was busy coming up with a list of folks even higher up to email that evening--police commissioners, city council members, the mayor even--when he saw a couple of guys on the other side of the street, and his jaw dropped.

It was Kyle again. Kyle, and...and was that the same fucking bear from the club that he’d pulled him away from? They were walking down the sidewalk, chatting, Kyle holding a bag of takeout, likely from one of the hole-in-the-walls around there, before going into a shop front for Marshall’s Cigar and Briar. Dennis jaywalked across the street and followed them inside, as they were doling out the contents of the bag between them.

“Hey bud, come back in a bit, it’s lunchtime,” the older bear said without looking up. Kyle though, recognized Dennis, and his face went pale. Twice in less than a week--was Dennis following him or something?

“Hey, Mr. Case...”

“Kyle, what are you doing here?” Dennis asked, “And isn’t that the guy from the fucking club?”

Marshall finally looked up, recognized Dennis, and gave a little huff. “Oh, it’s you. I hate how this place does this.”

“What?” Dennis asked.

“Bud, Kyle here is an employee of mine. We are currently having lunch. I assure you, everything here is perfectly fine. If you’d like to purchase something, why don’t you come back in half an hour. Otherwise, you can go ahead and fuck off.”

“You’re working? Here? For him? Since when?” Dennis asked Kyle, “Why didn’t you say anything about that on Friday?”

Kyle wasn’t sure what to say, and mostly he just wanted to slip under the floorboards for a while, and maybe die. “You...you won’t tell my dad, will you?”

“Tell your dad you’re working at a fucking smokeshop? Maybe I should. Maybe I should also tell him you’re going out to clubs underage while I’m at it! I still haven’t made my mind up about that, either, you know.”

“You don’t understand, alright? I’m fucking eighteen, you can’t just...just decide what’s fucking best for me!”

“You’re fucking eighteen, you don’t even know what’s best for you!” 

While they’d been yelling, Marshall had been calmly preparing a cigar for himself, and lighting it. Before Dennis could wheel on him, and likely try and chastise him for smoking indoors, He took an inhale, and pushed it all into Dennis’ face. Kyle watched, horrified, expecting Dennis to start coughing and explode even more, but instead, he watched as he went rather calm, almost like he was in a bit of a trance.

Marshall stood up, and beckoned Dennis over to the counter where he was standing, and without a word, Dennis did as the finger commanded. Then, Kyle watched as Marshall caught a wisp of smoke out of the air between his fingers, and twisted it, making it longer and thinner, with a little hook on the end. He put one hand on top of Dennis’s head and tilted it to one side, before sliding the wisp of smoke into his ear, twirling it a bit, and then pulling it out--along with...something else. Something a little smoke-like, but almost opalescent. Before Kyle could get a good look, Marshall had waved his hand through both hook and the bit he’d pulled free from Dennis’s head, and they dissolved into the air.

“Now, you’re going to leave my shop, and continue along whatever path you were going before, understand? You will never tell Kyle’s father about his activities. If asked by him about Kyle, you will only ever talk about what a good kid he is, responsible, and as an adult, he should be given as much autonomy as he needs, understand?”

Dennis nodded his head.

“Good, now get out of this shop.”

Dennis turned around and left, leaving Kyle with his jaw on the floor. “What did you do to him?”

“I know a few tricks,” Marshall said.

“Yeah, I’ve seen a couple of them, but what was that?”

“I pulled out the memory of him seeing us on the sidewalk, coming in here and trying to start a fight. Then, I used a little control on him, told him to carry on with his day. Easier than talking to him--I hate blowhards like that, they never know when to shut up. Come on, let’s eat.”

Marshall sat down and took a bite from his sandwich. Kyle stood on the other side of the counter, took a smaller bite from his own, and then set it down. After a couple of minutes, he asked, “Can...you teach me how to do that?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Marshall said.

“What...does that mean?”

“You said you’re going to college soon?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Out of state, right? One of those ivy league places,” Marshall put down the sandwich, and picked the cigar back up. “This place, Pigtown. It’s not just a place, you know. What’s happening here, it’s complicated. Most guys who come in here, eventually, they don’t go back out.”

Kyle thought about Marlon for a moment, the first he had all day, and pulling that memory free was like dragging it out from a swamp. He nodded.

“There’d be no college,” Marshall said. “No family outside of this chunk of city.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I just need you to believe me, and trust me,” Marshall said, “What you want is not a simple thing. This place makes you give up more than you ever thought you’d have to. What you get back is...well, I wouldn’t want to leave, I can tell you that. But if he was right about one thing, it’s that you’re, well, young, Kyle.” He saw him start to get defensive and Marshall shook his head, “I don’t mean it like he does. I mean, you have potential. A future. Many futures. This place is hungry for people like you. It wants you, badly, and it brought us together because it knew I had something you wanted, and wanted bad. I don’t mind giving it to you. But you ought to know what you’ll be giving up. Most never get the choice.”

“I do want it.”

“I know you do,” Marshall said, and picked up his sandwich again, “But think about it. Really think about it for me. We’ll talk again tomorrow, alright? Now eat up, we’ll have some regulars looking for their smokes banging on the door soon.”

***

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[puckinghell]

The Plus One Pact | William Nylander | Part 4

Summary: Your ex is getting married, and you don’t have a date, which means the unavoidable “why don’t you have a boyfriend” question is about to haunt you for the rest of eternity. But then there’s Will, who could be the answer to all your problems. A simple business pact, no feelings involved: that won’t be hard for you, because you really don’t like him anyways. Except pacts were made to be broken… or something. Right?

Note: This is part 4. Click here for part 1 | part 2 | part 3

--

You don’t know how it happens.

Okay, you kinda do.

One night, you get a text from Will that’s just a screenshot of a very strongly worded email to a certain balloon company, and then three crying-from-laughter emojis.

Still not funny!!! you text back, and you expect not to hear from Will again until the wedding.

You’re wrong. When he texts you again the next day, asking how you work was, you figure it would be rude not to answer, and then when the phone rings late one night, you worry something is wrong, so you answer that, too.

“What was your day like?” Will’s voice is quiet and timid when he asks, and you take it you’re not gonna talk about that awful game they just had, so you talk to him about your day for an hour until his voice is lighter and he’s laughing again.

It starts happening more and more, and before you really realize it, it’s weird when you haven’t heard from Willy in a day.

To be truthful, it turns out Zach was right; as he usually is, which you would rather die than tell him. 

But Will is different when it’s just you two, and your favorite moments with him are when he calls after games and his voice is laced with sleep and you can nearly hear the smile through his voice when he asks you about your day. Everything about him is muted, then, but it feels real, and important, somehow.

You even learn to appreciate how annoyingly chipper he is, because sometimes you really do need someone to just laugh at your bad mood until it goes away.

You also learn that, like you expected on the plane to Calgary, Will keeps his head high but it’s mostly a facade. Comments get to him, especially when they’re about his hockey – “that’s the only thing I was supposed to be good at” he jokes one time, and you wanna hit him over the head with his hockey stick until he understands that that’s not true – and he takes everything personal, although he tries not to show it.

Everything you didn’t like about him, you find out, is something you either got wrong about him or learned to appreciate.

And there’s so much more to like about him, too.

One night, after a really bad day at work, you have a fight with your sister about Noah’s stupid wedding. 

“Why are you so against coming?” your sister says, a little too aggressive. “Surely you aren’t still in love with him? He’s happy with Betty, Y/N.” 

Of course you’re not still in love with Noah, but it hurts that she can’t just accept that you don’t wanna go. That she can’t take your side in this, even if she doesn’t know the full story. She should trust that you’re not being difficult for no reason.

And you can’t help yourself; it’s late and you know Will just got done with his game, and he’s all the way in Carolina but you call him anyway.

He answers almost immediately.

“Y/N?” he asks, and he sounds surprised. It’s to be expected, because he’s almost always the one calling you, but it stings a little, nonetheless.

“Uhm, hi.” You pause. “Is it… okay that I called?”

“Of course. Always.” Will sounds truthful, so you decide to take his word for it.There’s no more extra space in your brain to worry about that, as well. 

“Congrats on the game.”

“Thanks.” You hear Willy’s grin. “I’ve told Zachy we’re both very proud of him for that OT winner.” There’s an indignant huff next to him that sounds a lot like Zach and you figure they’re still on the bus, where Willy usually sits with Kappy or Zach.

It’s quiet, then Willy’s voice, treading very carefully: “Is something wrong? You don’t sound too happy.” There’s some stumbling and you can almost see how Willy must be elbowing Zach away from the phone, because Zach is basically an overprotective dad whenever he hears anyone isn’t doing well.

But Willy… Willy isn’t like that, but he sounds worried anyway, and he sounds gentle like he’s trying to calm you down, and suddenly you’re telling him everything: about the day you’ve had and your job that sucks and that you’re worried about the wedding and why can’t your family just trust you, for once, and what if this all isn’t worth it just to keep your family happy?

When you’re done, Willy’s voice is soothing. The background noise has disappeared. Maybe the bus has stopped.

“It’s worth it,” is what he says. “You know it’s worth it.”

You sigh. It’s annoying still that he’s usually right.

“I just don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“And tonight you don’t have to.” There’s a sudden noise and then Will cursing. “Fuck, sorry, hold on, I’m trying to open this stupid hotel door…” More crashing and banging, and then Willy’s voice reappears. “Tonight you don’t have to deal with anything, okay? We can FaceTime and watch a movie together.”

And that… That actually sounds really nice, and like it doesn’t require any brain power which is good because you have none of that left anyway.

“Hey, what’s your favorite take out food?”

It’s such a random question, out of the blue, and when you tell him that, the blurry FaceTime screen can’t hide his eye roll.

“It’s just something friends are supposed to know about each other, now tell me.”

“Sushi when I’m feeling fancy,” you say, “or pizza when I need comfort food.”

You can’t even pretend to be that surprised when a massive pizza shows up at your door 30 minutes later.

You hate that it nearly brings tears to your eyes, but after the day you’ve had…

“Thank you, Willy,” you mumble, and there’s something soft to his look when he smiles at you.

“What are friends for?” he asks, and you realize you don’t even mind that he’s declared himself your friend, now.

A few weeks ago, you would’ve disputed it. But now, you find yourself kinda wishing it could be more.

--

What are friends for is apparently your motto now, and it’s all a little strange as you get into the car, your fanciest, most beautiful dress and highest heels on.

“You look great,” Zach says. He’s wearing a suit and his hair is slicked back, the way it always is when he’s really trying.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you reply, a little grumpily. “I hate team events.”

“I never did understand why.” Zach starts the car and backs out of your driveway. You’ve been told Alannah is going to the venue straight from work, and Willy had an appointment and couldn’t come get you, which is why you’re in the car with Zach, now.

“Because I don’t fit in there.” It’s the honest answer, but it’s obviously not the whole story. The whole story is that those events are filled with beautiful women, and you never feel quite up to par; like you snuck into a place you’re not welcome, not supposed to be welcome, either. But Zach wouldn’t get that. Willy wouldn’t get that either.

And you just couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough, not when he said: “But Y/N, it’s for charity.”

It would not matter to the charity, of course, if you didn’t come. But Willy had looked so hopeful, and then he’d pulled out the final card: “It’s gonna be way more fun with you there by my side.”

And now you’re wearing a dress appropriate for a charity gala, which means you’ve never felt more uncomfortable in anything in your life, and your feet already hurt from your heels, and this was such a bad idea, God.

“You know,” Zach says, and his tone tells you this conversation is going somewhere you don’t want it to go. “Willy doesn’t like these events either. It means a lot to him that you’re coming for support.”

You nearly roll your eyes. “Willy charmed the socks off every person at my boss’ wedding, Zachy. He really doesn’t need my support for these kinda things.”

Zach’s face stays stoic. “Yeah, but nobody at that wedding knew him.”

“So?” you frown. “That should only be a disadvantage, considering he’s William Nylander.”

Zach laughs, then. “Still haven’t figured it out, then? I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you were good at reading people.”

“Hey!” you react, offended. You are good at reading people. It’s one of the things you pride yourself on. “If you know it all so well, why don’t you just tell me?”

Zach sighs. “Willy doesn’t like these events anymore because he is William Nylander, as you say it, and that’s not really a popular name in Leafs territory, right now.”

And, oh.

That.

“I did realize he cares a lot more about what people think than I thought he did.” You pause. “More than he should, probably.”

“Definitely.” Zach’s face has that protective big brother vibe about it, again. You used to not understand, why he always looked like that when people were talking shit about Willy.

You get it, now.

“There’s always plenty more people telling him he’s great, than there are people sending him snarky looks,” Zach continues. “But he never really believes any compliments he gets, so that doesn’t help.”

Suddenly, you realize something.

You’ve never really… complimented Willy? Even when you realized he cared more than he let on, you still just assumed he knew how great he was. Sometimes, he kinda fishes for something – “Did you see my goal?” “How about my cooking abilities?” “I know how to pick a good movie, right?” – but you’d always laughed and chirped him for it.

“If your head gets any bigger, it’ll explode.”

And Willy is always complimenting you; he tells you you look great all the time, even when you decidedly dont’t, but he clearly remembered what you told him about Noah because that’s never the only thing he compliments you about.

He tells you how smart you are, “I like how good you are with animals”, how any food you make is the best thing he’s ever eaten, if only everyone was as lovely as you.

You feel guilty, now. If Willy is your friend, you’ve really not been doing such a good job at being his friend, too.

You’re fixing that tonight, you decide right then and there.

“I’ll make him believe it,” you tell Zach, and it comes out sounding vaguely threatening.

Zach laughs. “Thought you didn’t like him?”

“Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought he was,” you admit, and you don’t tell Zach how much you really, really do like Willy, but you think Zach kinda knows anyway. 

Will meets you at the door, where Alannah is also waiting for Zach. He smiles at you, eyes soft.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” He quickly presses his lips to your temple, which is a new development that you don’t really know how to handle.

But Will is a tactile guy, anyway, so you’re sure you shouldn’t read too much into it.

You see Zach’s raised eyebrow, and suddenly remember – fine, maybe you’d forgotten your objective for a second because Will looks really hot in that suit, but you’re back on track now.

“You look beautiful too, Will.”

Willy’s eyes widen and a flush creeps up on his cheek, but before he can answer you grab his hand and pull him into the building.

It’s a fancy, really expensive hotel, where the gala is being held. It’s filled to the brim with people, a few of which you recognize, most of which you don’t.

“That chandelier must be worth more than our entire house,” Alannah mutters, and you’re glad to see it’s affecting her too, although she’s been to these events many times.

Zach laughs. “With a puppy in the house, aren’t you glad we don’t have any furniture that costs more than our mortgage?”

“Do you want a drink?” Will’s lips are close enough to your ear to hear him over the noise of the crowd and the music in the background, and also close enough to feel his hot breath against your neck. It takes everything in you not to shiver.

Maybe you do need a drink. Or ten.

Willy and Zach go to get the drinks and Alannah leads you to where some of the other WAGs are. Steph is the only one you know and she hugs you as soon as she sees you coming, then introduces you to the rest.

“So, you’re with Will, huh?” she asks, eyebrows waggling.

You were expecting that question, but maybe not so soon into the evening.

“Uhm,” you cough, “not really. Just his plus one for tonight.”

“Sure,” Steph says, and she looks like she doesn’t believe you at all.News always travels fast in the WAGs group, and Alannah is looking a little guilty.

You find you don’t mind so much, that they think that you’re together. Although you really don’t wanna think about why you don’t mind. 

When Willy finds you, Kappy and his girlfriend are with him, and the four of you make your rounds throughout the room, talking to any sponsor that seems interested in a conversation. Mostly you just stand there while Willy talks, his hand on your back as if he’s scared you’re gonna run off.

“I always thought this would be a lot of work,” you mumble in Willy’s ear, when you’re between conversation partners. “But I really only have to stand here and look pretty.”

Willy grins. “Seems like it comes natural to you.”

Right. You kinda forgot about the compliments again.

You shrug, lean a little closer until you’re basically pressed into his side. It feels a little too right, maybe, how quickly Will’s arm wraps around your waist.

“You’re really good at talking to these people.” You’re talking pretty loudly, but you’re pretty sure Will is the only one that can hear you over the noise. “The second you open your mouth, people are so charmed by you. I think you could make anyone love you.”

Willy’s eyes flash to the floor, and they stay fixed there as he mumbles something that sounds a lot like another “uhm”.

His cheeks are flushed red, and you’re saved from having to deal with that as Auston appears, eyes wild and jaw tense.

“I’m being stalked,” he hisses. “This old white dude literally won’t leave me alone even for a second. He’s been following me around for an hour. Help.”

Willy bursts into giggles, which is probably not very helpful, and the betrayal on Auston’s face is enough to make you feel bad for him.

“Come on,” you say, grabbing his arm, “let’s go hide behind the bar.”

--

It’s easier than you thought it would be, to get through the evening. In fact, when Will asks you if you’re ready to go, you hadn’t even noticed it had become so late.

You say goodbye to the few people you know and gratefully accept Willy’s offer to drive you home.

The car ride is silent. It’s not awkward, but the air is heavy with something, and you curse yourself for all those times you wished Willy would just shut up, because now he has and you hate every second of it.

Did your compliments freak him out? Did he regret asking you to come?

“So,” Will finally says, as he stops in front of a traffic light. He’s not looking at you, keeping his gaze firmly on the road ahead of him. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Zach told me you don’t like these events,” you try, carefully. You’ve never had to pull something out of Will, force him to open up; he’s always just kinda done it, from the very moment you met him, shared parts of himself with you that you never had to search for.

For you, who’s never learned how to not keep something hidden, that was maybe the thing that unnerved you about him the most.

“I like doing things for charity,” Will answers, and you can tell he’s picking his words carefully. “But I don’t like people looking at me as if I’m some kinda disappointment who doesn’t belong there.”

“Have they ever said anything?”

“No.” Will smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and there’s a hint of sadness laced in it. “Not to my face, anyway. But I’m not stupid, you know.”

No, he’s not stupid. For all the conflicting thoughts you’ve had about him, you never thought he was stupid.

And you never thought he was a bad contract, either. It seems imperative, suddenly, that he knows that.

“Willy,” you say softly, and although his eyes are still on the road, you know he’s paying attention. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re anything but an amazing hockey player. You’re worth that contract and you’re worth the effort Dubas put into keeping you here. You’re so smart, and I know people don’t always see it but you work so hard, and Matts was so happy when you got back on his line because he knew you would be magic together.”

Will’s cheeks are red but this time, he’s not mumbling when he says: “I know I haven’t been playing as well as I can.”

“Stop,” you tell him, softly but forcefully. “Stop deflecting, stop dodging. Just take the compliment and believe me when I say you’re great at what you do.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he says, his voice a bit shaky, and that’s a different kind of deflecting but it’s still deflecting, and it’s hurting your heart.

“William Nylander,” you scold, and then you do what you’ve been wanting to do this entire evening and let yourself reach out and put a hand on his knee. “Just accept the compliment.”

Willy carefully reaches down to grab your hand, intertwines your fingers together as he lets both your hands rest on his thigh. He’s holding the steering wheel with one hand, but he’s driving pretty slowly and the roads are deserted, so you’re not too worried.

You’re more worried about the fact that he just doesn’t believe you.

“You’re a great hockey player,” you repeat, stubbornly. “And a great person.”

Finally Willy allows himself to smile, this small, rueful thing that sticks somewhere deep inside your chest, folds up next to your heart like it’s gonna stay there forever.

“Thank you,” he says, and maybe he still doesn’t really believe it but this is as far as you’re gonna get tonight and maybe that’s okay.

You’ve got time.

The car has reached your flat and Will parks it in your driveway. It’s quiet, and he hasn’t let go of your hand, and you kinda don’t want him to.

The night is over, probably.

But there’s still one thing you need to tell him, though. “It doesn’t matter, Will,” you say softly. “What those people think. It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Willy agrees, and for the first time you can tell he believes it. “But it matters what you think.”

He finally turns to look at you and there’s so many emotions swirling in the deep blue of his eyes, but you can’t really put your finger on any of them. All you know is your heart is beating in your throat, and you really want to kiss him.

But Willy still looks a little sad, and you have a feeling there’s something he’s not saying.

“I told you I think you’re great,“ you tell him, and it’s the truth.

“But you didn’t, before.” Will hesitates. “I told you I’m not stupid. I know when people find me annoying.” He shrugs. “I get it. I know I can be too much.”

And God, there’s so much hurt in that, so much pain and yet understanding, and you can tell he truly believes that, and you would do anything to take that away from him.

Anything.

So.

“I didn’t like you,” you admit, but when Will goes to pull back his hand, you simply hold on tighter. “I was wrong. I didn’t know you, and I was wrong. Now I know you. And I like you.” You inhale, pause. “I like you so much I don’t really know what to do with myself, sometimes.”

It’s quiet. You can nearly see the wheels turning in Willy’s head as he searches your face for something; something to tell him you’re not being truthful, maybe, that it doesn’t mean what he thinks it does.

If that’s what he’s looking for, he won’t find it. 

Then he drops your hand, jumps out of the car and slams the door.

Disappointment and hurt washes over you; you knew you had to try, had to put your heart out there, but it hurts that it’s smashed into pieces like that. Clearly you read it wrong, clearly you still don’t know how to tell what Willy’s feeling.

Except then your door opens, and Willy is holding out his hand.

“Come on,” he says, and his voice sounds… fond? You don’t know exactly what to think about it, but he doesn’t sound angry, or upset.

Against better judgement, you grab his hand and get out of the car.

“I have to tell you something,” Will says. And, there’s no way that he’s doing what you think he’s doing, but his hands are suddenly traveling up, one reaching to cup your cheek, the other settling on your waist. His eyes are staring into yours intently, and they’re twinkling but it’s not the same mischievous twinkle you’re used to seeing.

“I really like you, too,” Willy says, and he leans in and presses his lips against yours.

For a split second, you stand there, not quite knowing what just happened, but then his hand tightens on your hip and you realize that this is real, this is happening, and Will’s kissing you.

So you kiss back. You let your body lean heavy against the car, place your hands on his biceps and pull him closer, until his chest is flush against yours. The kiss deepens, and you swear you can feel your heartbeat synching up with his.

The night is dark, and quiet, and it rains a little, but you feel none of it.

All you feel is Will, surrounding you, and everything is beautiful and exactly the way it’s supposed to be.