#good question lets think about it quietly as we watch the river and sip our beers

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Six // Wanda Maximoff

chapter five | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter seven

author’s note: i’m glad you all seemed to like the last chapter! i’m all for slow burn but i didn’t want to leave you hanging too long aha. Now onto dating territory!

Since going to Blackpool with Wanda, we hadn't actually gotten another moment to ourselves. Wedding plans were picking up which kept her busy, and if not that, then I'd only see her in passing in which we'd exchange smiles before moving on.

So, I though it would be good to take her out on a date. A proper one, even if it was to be disguised as a simple outing between soon-to-be sister-in-laws. The plan was to 'bump' into her in town, which we did, then I asked her if she wanted to go to the art gallery. She'd been before, but they'd put in a new exhibition which I thought she might like.

We couldn't exactly hold hands when there, but I made the most of her presence and stood a little too close to her than a friend might. Since she'd kissed me at the beach, I wasn't able to think about anything else. And when shot me a knowing smile, I knew she felt the same.

"I like this one," I told her, pointing to a piece hung on the wall, before squinting to read the plaque. "Jedburgh Abbey from the River by Thomas Girtin."

"And why's that?" she asked, watching me with humoured eyes.

I pursed my lips, glancing between her and the painting sheepishly. "I'm not gonna lie, I just like the way the guy painted the clouds in the sky."

She stifled laughter, not wanting to draw attention from passers-by, and nudged me in the shoulder. "You're unbelievable, milaya (darling). We didn't have to come here if you don't like art."

I gave her a knowing look. "Hey, I love art. Especially when it's by a certain Sokovian artist named Wanda Maximoff."

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. I grinned at her bashfulness, wanting to tease her but also very true with my words. Her work was my favourite, biased or not, and I still had that amazing portrait she'd done of me in my room back home. It was tucked into one of my drawers where nobody would find it. I didn't want anyone else to look at it since she'd done it for me and it was private... it was a beautiful reminder of the amazing day we'd had.

"You're poking fun, but in all seriousness, I'd actually love for my work to be up here someday," she said softly, looking at the painting before us with hopeful eyes. 

"They wish they were that lucky to score someone as talented as you," I said without skipping a beat.

She cracked a smile, tilting her head in my direction. It was obvious she was losing her patience with me, but I enjoyed watching her lose it. She didn't know what to say, especially when being complimented, and it was endearing to witness.

We remained civil for the remainder of the 'date', refraining from holding hands or gazing at each other longer than friends would, and I was pretty proud of myself for not thinking about kissing her once when we were done.

As we got into the carriage to go back home, the door closed and I was going to ask her how she found it when she moved towards me in an instant, kissing me without question. I raised my hand, caressing her jaw and closing my eyes as she leaned forward, practically on my lap, not that I cared. She sucked on my bottom lip sensually before she opened her mouth, pushing her tongue into mine. I almost forgot how to breathe as she did, unprepared for such an intense kiss.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," she revealed when she pulled away.

I flushed at the contact, a dazed smile on my lips. "Huh."

She chuckled as she sat back beside me more 'appropriately'. "Thanks for taking me. I loved it."

I nodded lamely, still trying to recover from our kiss. "I'm– I'm glad."

She smirked playfully, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting back. "You're so cute."

My words still hadn't returned, so all I could do was nod before looking the other way. Her laughter filled the carriage and I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky to be in the presence of someone so perfect.

After exchanging some more kisses and actually being able to hold hands without prying eyes, we reached Wanda's home and she invited me in for some tea. Sadly, that meant we had to let go of one another, but I think she'd given me enough to remember her by as we parted, and she must have thought the same, judging from the smirk she sent my way.

We sat on the patio outside to have some tea and biscuits, enjoying the sunshine and blue skies, a rare occurrence for England. We were chatting mindlessly when her brother decided to make an appearance, helping himself to a seat between Wanda and I.

"How lovely of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Y/L/N," he said playfully, shooting me a charming smile, before reaching to grab a biscuit. Wanda slapped his hand but he stole one anyway, making her roll her eyes.

"Nice to see you, Pietro," I greeted with amusement, always enjoying his presence.

"And you," he returned, before chowing down his biscuit.

Wanda gave me a fed up look over his shoulder which he was oblivious to, and I tried not to laugh as she clearly wasn't a fan of him interrupting our time.

"So, I caught a glimpse of the wedding invitations," Pietro said, making conversation. He glanced between us with a nod of approval. "They're coming along well."

I hummed in agreement, smile becoming less real when he mentioned the wedding. Wanda didn't acknowledge his words as she fiddled with the handle of her teacup.

"Is your brother behaving, Y/N?" Pietro continued jokingly, looking to me. "I know how many admirers he has, but my sister should be his first priority."

"Oh, Piet...," Wanda breathed out with embarrassment, facepalming.

"Of course he is," I assured her brother with a small smile. "He wouldn't dare try hurting Wanda or he'd have a lot of explaining to do."

There was some playfulness in my voice, but an underlying truth to my words.

"It's sweet how close you've gotten," Pietro noticed, looking between us, before settling his gaze on me. "It's about time Wanda made friends with people who aren't me."

Cue another slap. I chuckled at her sheepish expression, amused by Pietro's antics.

"Anyway," he changed the subject for his sister's sake, "mother has been getting on my very nerve about finding a bride because you decided to get married."

Wanda rolled her eyes. "We both know I didn't decide, Piet."

He sighed over-dramatically. "Well, it's because of your engagement that she's now on my back about it."

"Join the club," I joked, knowing exactly what he meant. "My mum was already on my back about finding a husband, but since this engagement, it's ten times more annoying."

Pietro laughed. "Oh, no. Has she lined up suitors? My parents like to point out every pretty woman they see to me in hopes I'll make a move. It's hardly productive."

"I haven't asked her for fear she'll pull out a folder with all of the eligible bachelors in town," I said, half joking and half serious.

Pietro snickered as Wanda rolled her eyes in the background. She should have been happy I was getting along with her brother. He was actually quite entertaining to be around.

"It's funny you say that because you're one of the women my parents pointed out," he admitted.

"Oh, God, so they're saying the same thing to you?" I asked with a groan, and he nodded regretfully. "Isn't it just the worst?"

"You're a lovely girl, Y/N, don't get me wrong," he began gently, "but I don't like you like that."

I raised my hand for a high five. "Me and you both."

Laughing once again, he returned my high five and I was glad we were on the same page. The amount of people that had been hinting at getting to know Wanda Maximoff's very single brother was getting pretty annoying. It was nice to know he was just as irritated at the insinuation as I was.

"Okay, I should leave you both to it," Pietro concluded, slapping his knees and standing up. Looking to me, he said, "Miss Y/L/N, it was as lovely as ever to make your acquaintance."

I smiled as he winked playfully before looking to his disgruntled sister.

"Dear sister, the pleasure is always mine," he continued to tease, and she slapped him once more, making him dodge her and begin to leave. "Love you, too!" he called before heading back inside.

I laughed at his silliness and relaxed in my seat, looking back to Wanda. She didn't seem half as amused as I was as she drummed her fingers on the table and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"I may be mistaken, love, but it looks like you're jealous," I poked fun at her.

She rolled her eyes and her jaw tensed before she finally looked to me, expression softening. "Can you blame me?" she asked quietly. "You're both single. You're both similar age. Everybody talks."

I shrugged nonchalantly, having a sip of my tea. "True... but I've got my eye on another Maximoff anyway."

She sighed, small smile creeping on her lips. Subtly moving my chair closer to hers, I grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. My thumb stroked her hand softly as I leaned on the palm of my hand on the table.

"You look really beautiful today," I admitted in a hushed voice. "I should have told you earlier."

She, too, leaned into the palm of her hand as she watched me with an enchanting gaze. "So do you, milaya (darling)."

Unable to resist, I glanced around quickly before kissing her cheek and pulling away. Letting go of her hand, I busied myself with the tea and biscuits again.

"Biscuit?" I offered her, and she began to laugh at my attempt at acting casual.

Playing along, she accepted the biscuit from my hand. But a knowing smile was on her lips as she nodded. "Thank you."

—

Being with Wanda was a luxury in itself, even if we had to keep it private.

To everybody else, we were merely two women about to become family who happened to create a bond that was close. But we both knew what it really was and weren't eager to say it. Because saying it made it true and that meant that what we were doing became realer than it was in our daydreams and hidden moments.

I did find myself wracked with guilt sometimes – particularly the times when Y/B/N would gush about how excited he was to marry her. Wanda was technically cheating on him with me, his sister, but that fact was something that was still blurry to me.

We had no choice but to lie and be secretive. In a world like this, where we would never be able to be together like we wanted to, all we had was secrecy and deception. Did that still make us bad people?

I tried not to think about what would happen when she actually married my brother. The future was something I was adamant on pushing to the back of my mind because I knew what it would hold and I just wanted to enjoy the time I had with her. Convincing myself that what we had wasn't serious, just a heat of the moment relationship maybe, made things easier to accept. But really, I knew that whenever she looked my way with her signature smile and dazzling eyes, it was way more than I envisioned. She was way more.

So, trying not to be dragged down with the weight of reality, I vowed to myself to only focus on the now. Focus on the moments I shared with her whilst we could. Anything beyond that and I'd surely snap.

"Medovyy (honey), the Y/L/Ns are here!" Iryna called behind her, before looking to my family and I as we stood at her front door. "Please, all of you, come in!"

She ushered us into the main hall before closing the door after us. Perfectly timed, the rest of her family left the living room and came to greet us.

Automatically, my eyes found Wanda's and she was already looking my way, her dimple making a show as she attempted to reign in an excited smile. I did the same, trying to ignore the way my heart stirred upon seeing her.

Oleg and Iryna welcomed my parents and then me, kind expressions accompanying genuine greetings. In the corner of my eye, I saw Pietro shaking Y/B/N's hand before Wanda took his place, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Y/B/N. It wasn't jealousy that I felt whenever they were together, at least not entirely – they were to be married, what more could I expect? – but it wasn't anything pleasant either.

"Ah, my favourite Y/L/N," Pietro beamed upon shaking my hand, making my lips twitch upwards. "You excited for dinner? We're having salmon."

"Ecstatic, Pietro," I answered with a playful eye roll. "All I've been thinking all day."

He chuckled at my sarcasm before letting go of my hand and moving over to greet my parents. Wanda was next, her shoulders relaxing when she stepped before me with a soft smile present on her lips.

"It's good to see you," she said, but her eyes said much more than that. "How have you been?"

Exchanging a friendly-looking hug, my body was warm where she pressed against me. Touching her always sent a rush of emotion through me and I looked forward to it every time.

"I've been good," I answered aloud, before whispering into her ear, "Better now."

She squeezed my waist inconspicuously in response before letting go. "That's good. You know, we've got time before dinner and I wanted to show you the painting I've been working on lately. Wanna see?"

I glanced at my parents and hers for permission, knowing they'd heard her question.

"Just try not to take too long since dinner will be on the table soon," Iryna said with a nod. "It's so good to see you girls getting along."

Breathing out slightly, I smiled gratefully before letting Wanda intertwine our fingers and drag me up the staircase. She led me past several doors before we finally reached hers and she tugged me inside.

As soon as the door closed, she was quick to connect our lips in a heated, desperate kiss. I relaxed against her instantly, my hands falling to her side and pulling her closer. Her fingernails gently scratched the sensitive skin behind my neck, giving me goosebumps, and I let out an involuntary gasp at the feeling.

When we pulled away for a breath, her nose brushed against mine and she pressed a final kiss to my lips, slower and more tasteful compared to the first, before smiling at me.

"I missed you," she said, as if reading my mind.

A breathy laugh escaped my lips. "It's only been a week since we last saw each other, love."

She shrugged, arms laced around my neck. "A week too long."

Raising a brow judgementally, I gave her a knowing look. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest as her half-lidded eyes met mine with a confident smirk.

"Did you just pull me up here to have a quick snog?" I teased her.

"Well, yes," she said, making me laugh again, before adding, "And I wanted to ask you if you'll go to the park with me tomorrow. A picnic. If you want."

She bit her lip anxiously, eyes darting elsewhere as she waited for an answer. I always found it amusing how she could be so confident one second and then so innocently adorable the next.

"Wanda, I'd love to." My thumb rubbed circles on her waist as I kept ahold of her. "I hear it's supposed to be nice weather tomorrow, too."

She pursed her lips. "Even if it rained, I'd still drag you to the park with me."

"Somehow, I feel like that's true," I countered with a ghost of a smile on my lips. She tried to hide her own smile and I continued, "Was there an actual painting you wanted to show me or...?"

Breathing out with amusement, she intertwined our fingers and pulled me to the back of her room where her 'studio' was. Since the last time I'd visited, there were plenty of new additions to her work, all as wonderful as the next.

"This one is from the beach at Blackpool," she said, stopping before a medium-sized canvas depicting the horizon. "When we sat on the bench. Just before I kissed you."

My heart fluttered at the memory and I studied the canvas, recalling it looked similar to her watercolour painting of the same view. She'd done a spectacular replica in oil paints, reminiscent of the trip we took.

"You should already know what I'm going to say," I said, looking to her knowingly. "But just so you can hear it again, I absolutely love this. You're so talented."

She rolled her eyes to distract from the pink spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you... and again, thank you for taking me. Seeing an actual water source upfront really helped me refine my paintings. It feels so much more real now."

I looked back to the painting, noticing what she meant. Either way, I loved both versions of her work, before and after going to the beach.

"You did good, love."

She squeezed my hand gently before sighing quietly with realisation. "We should probably go back down."

"We should," I agreed, glancing at her. "Thanks for showing me these."

She cracked a smile, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. "Always."

Reluctantly, the two of us returned downstairs and joined the others as they were settling at the dining table. Wanda and I sat side by side, and this time when her fingers brushed mine, I made no move to pull away.

The meal was good, but as usual, I found myself zoning out. The conversation made its rounds, falling to me as the Maximoffs wanted to know how I was doing, then moved on, giving me chance to focus on eating my dinner and getting through the evening. I knew that at one point, everybody was talking about some play that was showing in the theatres.

Bits of the conversation were going in one ear and out the other and I was minding my own business until Wanda's bare foot rubbed against my leg under the table. The sensation of her skin against mine made my knee bounce up and hit the table with surprise, earning everyone's attention.

"Are you okay, dear?" Oleg asked, noticing my discomfort.

I cleared my throat, straightening up and ignoring the stifled smile Wanda had in my peripheral vision.

"I'm good, sorry about that," I apologised awkwardly, shivering when she dragged her foot back down my leg. "You were talking about the play, right?"

That seemed to distract them, as they leapt right back into conversation, giving me a chance to breathe out with relief. I looked to Wanda, watching her lean on her palm and hide a smirk as she stared at me with mischievous eyes.

Glaring and nudging her in the arm subtly, I looked back to my food, but she didn't move her foot, nor her hand. Both brushed my against me, starting a fire on my skin and making me swallow hard. She kept like that for the whole evening, making my head dizzy and leaving me at a loss for words.

And when I looked her way, she was already staring, definitely knowing the effect she had on me.

—

"I just need to find my shoes and we can go," I told Wanda the next morning, before our date at the park.

She'd come to pick me up at my house and was hanging around my room as I finished getting ready. From her place at my desk, she hummed in acknowledgment before distracting herself with my notebooks.

"I see you're making great use of the notebook I picked out for you," she commented, and I glanced towards her mid-search for my shoes, seeing she was flicking through the already-filled book.

"I have a lot of ideas, what can I say?" I joked, before looking under the pile of clothes near my wardrobe.

She chuckled, before falling quiet again. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing until she spoke up after a few minutes.

"Y/N, your writing is beautiful," she said, making me look her way to see an amazed smile on her lips. "I didn't know you could write like this. I mean– I should have because you helped write that letter Y/B/N gave to me, but this..."

I shrugged awkwardly, distracting myself with my search again. "It's okay, I guess."

She exhaled mockingly. "Okay? Y/N, this is miles better than okay. Why didn't you show me this sooner?"

I smiled satisfactorily as I finally located my shoes. Grabbing them, I approached Wanda and took a seat on the edge of my bed, opposite her seat at my desk.

"Because it'll never be anything more than what you're looking at?" I said rhetorically. "It'll only ever be words confined to pages that nobody will see?"

She gave me a knowing look. "I think you forget that my brother is a publisher, dorogoy (dear)."

"And I think you forget that he is the publisher to my brother, dear," I retorted playfully.

She sighed, shaking her head and putting the notebook back on my desk. "You know Pietro would love this, right? He'd sign you in a heartbeat."

I snickered at the ludicrous thought. "Wanda, you're a little biased, love."

She rolled her eyes. "Writers write for audiences. I am an audience. I consume literature. And I'm telling you that it's not just me who would read what you have to write."

I tried not to laugh as I pulled my shoes onto my feet.

"Are you really telling me that you'd never want to get published?" she asked with a raised brow.

My heart ached at the thought of such a fantasy. "Of course I would, Wanda." I met her eyes, which were already peering across from me patiently. "I've dreamed of that. But it's just not what's to happen. My family have told me that many times. In another lifetime, maybe."

She pursed her lips, studying me thoughtfully. I offered her a smile and stood up, holding out my hand.

"Forget that," I told her. "I believe you promised me a picnic."

Thankfully, she dropped the subject and accepted my hand, letting me pull her up. The topic wasn't brought up again and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

We went to the park like she wanted and she brought a picnic basket with her, having packed a lovely variety of finger foods and snacks.

As she was unpacking the food onto the blanket, I narrowed my eyes at her. "You know, now that we're finally alone, I can say how unfair it was of you to do what you did last night."

She played dumb, shrugging, focusing on neatening up the sandwiches on a plate. "I don't know what you mean, milaya (darling)."

"Huh. Sure you don't."

Giggles flew from her lips as she glanced at me through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just love seeing you squirm. You get all tense and it's so cute."

I pursed my lips. "I figured. You've been watching me squirm since we met."

She grinned knowingly before straightening up. "Okay, I made sandwiches and there's also some coleslaw, fruit, cheese... I made some Sokovian dishes, too, if you want to try them. Okroshka – it's like a cold soup. Then there's this olivye salad. It's... well, salad."

I smiled at the thought she put into it all and grabbed her hand between us. We'd set the picnic out behind a tree so we wouldn't have curious eyes watching us. It didn't look like we were overtly hiding, but we still got our privacy, too.

"It all looks great, Wanda," I said with appreciation. "I can't wait to try it."

She squeezed my hand in response before letting go to grab some paper plates. After popping a strawberry in her mouth, she asked, "Do you just want a bit of everything?"

I leaned on the back of my hands as I hummed a 'yes'. She began to put me some food in and I watched her, admiring the sight.

Her hair was half-pulled back today, falling in waves down her back and exposing her perfectly sculpted jawline. Everything about her was perfect – the way she moved was elegant and graceful, even when her hair fell over her shoulder and in her way; she simply moved it back with a flick of her hand and resumed what she was doing. The sun caught her immaculately, her hair glowing bright under the light and her eyes magnificently green as they focused.

As always, she took my breath away.

"Here," she said, holding out the plate towards me and pulling me from my reverie.

I accepted the plate and fork, returning her smile, before she watching as she began to make another plate for herself.

"You sure this is fancy enough for you?" I asked jokingly, stabbing my fork into a carrot. "I heard you and my brother went to a very luxurious restaurant the other night."

She met my eyes, holding amusement in her own. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya (darling)."

I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes. "I'm not jealous, I just– it's so annoying listening to him talk about how beautiful you are or how funny you are or how kind you are."

"Oh, so you don't think I'm any of those things?" she teased, trying to get a rise out of me.

I titled my head towards her. "Of course I know you're all those things. But it doesn't mean I like hearing him talk about it constantly..."

Clearly amused, she erupted into laughter and I felt my face heating up with embarrassment. I know it sounded like I was whining, but it was true. Sometimes, I wasn't envious of my brother but rather at the fact that he could actually take Wanda out properly. He could be seen with her in public and hold her hand without fear of getting looks or disowned. He had the privilege of being with her and it wasn't fair.

"You may hear him talk about it, but there's one thing I can assure you that you get that he doesn't," she said when recovering from her laughter.

I stared at her with an exasperated sigh. "And what's that?"

She smiled confidently, glancing around quickly, before leaning forward and kissing me softly. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, leaving me desiring more.

Licking my lips, I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. "You know, you're a really good kisser."

She chuckled at my reaction and I found myself leaning in again, entranced by the way she tasted. Putting my plate to the side, I raised a hand to pull her closer, getting better access to her mouth.

She tasted sweet like the strawberry she'd just eaten and I swiped my tongue across her lip, indicating I wanted her to part her them. She did, allowing me to slip my tongue in and wrestle with hers, revelling in the way she tasted. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as she let out a moan, it reverberating in my mouth and giving me goosebumps.

When lack of oxygen became an issue, she pulled away breathlessly, flushed cheeks adorned with a smile.

"As lovely as that was, I actually want to eat what I made," she ridiculed playfully.

"Yes, we will," I assured her, my hand moving from her neck up to her jaw. My thumb touched her lips, outlining them tenderly, subconsciously committing them to memory. "We'll get back to it."

She wanted to laugh, but I moved forward and caught her bottom lip between mine, unable to stay away. It was wrong, the rush I felt in my gut and the warmth that spread all over my body and the tingles that travelled down my spine. Because I knew what it all meant, but admitting it was a different story. So, I didn't.

I just continued to kiss the girl before me, knowing I could have kissed her forever and not regretted a single thing.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Cheryl//maple syrup

Request: Can you do the secret and sins when Veronica comments on the Cheryl’s twincest and the reader defends Cheryl even though the reader kinda diss likes Cheryl.

hey! how is everyone? i hope you’re all well and good! i may have slightly cheated a bit and copy and pasted a previously written out bit from another request where they’re playing secrets and sins. but that’s only because i didn’t see the point in writing the same dialogue again. anywayyyy enjoy! 

It seems that whenever Cheryl Blossom arrives at a party, the party atmosphere disappears. Maybe it’s her grating personality or overbearing need to be liked, whatever it is, within ten minutes of her and Chuck gate crashing Jughead’s unwanted birthday party, there’s already tension. 

Which is not made any better by the suggestion of secrets & sins. Your friends are gathered in a circle in the living room, while you sit off to the side. You want to eavesdrop, but you don’t want to reveal your deepest, darkest secrets, not to your best friends and definitely not to Cheryl. 

It’s clear everyone that’s been roped into this stupid game doesn’t want to be there. Betty shifts in her seat uncomfortably and stares at you with pleading eyes. You shoot her an unsure smile back before taking a sip of your drink and she drops your gaze, glancing at Archie before staring down at the floor. 

Cheryl is the only one that looks like she’s enjoying herself, but you’re not surprised. Chaos and the chance to get dirt on everyone so she can control them even more than she already does is what Cheryl lives for.

You glare at the red-head, who’s smiling brightly as she looks around at her victims and when her eyes land on you, her eyes narrow and the smile is replaced by a smirk. 

“What’s wrong Y/n? Did nobody pick you to be on their team?” She asks, her bright red lips forming a perfect pout and you can’t help but stare at them for a few seconds longer than you should. You feel your face heat up and look away, blaming the alcohol for the affects you’re feeling and refusing to believe that you’ve just thought of Cheryl Blossom as attractive. 

A shiver runs up your spine at the thought and you lips pull into a pout as you stare down at the now empty cup in your hands. You scratch at the plastic and listen to the mumbles and whispers of the teenagers stood and sat around you. 

Whoever isn’t partaking in Secrets and Sins, have gathered around to watch and judge, and you can’t help but lean in a little closer, they may be some of your closest friends, but you can’t help wanting to know what they’ve been hiding from one another...you’re only human and at least you’re not as bad as Cheryl. 

Cheryl lives of rumours. Like Gretchen Wieners with smaller and redder hair. 

“What the hell is Secrets and Sins?” Jughead asks, all eyes on Cheryl as she moves around in a circle, eyeing everyone suspiciously as she starts to explain the rules. 

“Its a variation on Truth or Dare…in which we own our truths by telling it like it is. I’ll start the game with…Veronica Lodge.” She smirks and you roll your eyes at her. 

“Naturally.” Veronica sighs and you pat her shoulder. 

“Let’s begin with the day you and your mob wife of a mother came to town for a so-called fresh start.” She says, her eyes filled with accusations and anger before she’s even gotten to her question. 

You really don’t know why so many people like her, well you do, it’s because she’s rich and she bullies people into being her friend because she’s unable to make them any other way. 

She’s snobby, spoilt and just plain mean, but that doesn’t stop you from sometimes staring at her for longer than you want to and definitely should. 

“Tell us Veronica, what’s so fresh about defiling Archie Andrews in a closet?”

“That was your doing.” She replies confused, her arms crossed defensively against her chest.

“Moving on to dear Daddy Lodge…” She interrupts, getting more and more angry by the second. “Isn’t it true that your father, from prison, illegally purchased the drive-in land? Which makes me wonder, what else is he doing behind bars?” She continues and you glance to your side at Joaquin, who shares a very suspicious look with FP

“Well, I can’t speak for my father…but I can think of someone with a very dirty secret. Specifically, Cheryl killing her very own brother.” The tension in the room shifts and your eyes widen. 

As much as you dislike Cheryl, you know how close her and Jason were and you knew how much it hurt and how she’s still hurting now because of his death. You’ve seen her crying underneath the bleachers after school, you see how her eyes are a little more dull than they used to be. They don’t sparkle as much when she talks and when she’s not spreading hate, she’s just not saying anything at all. 

She smiles less when with her friends, and sometimes you think the only reason she’s horrible to people is so she can feel something. But that doesn’t excuse it and so you shake your head and earn a few confused looks as you try to stop yourself from defending Cheryl Majorie Blossom. 

“Everyone knows how much I loved my brother.” Cheryl defends herself.

“Exactly.” Veronica replies. “But did you love him, maybe in ways that a sister shouldn’t love a brother?” She continues and you watch as Cheryl becomes more and more upset. “And as you got older, Jason started to think it was strange, unnatural. So he chose Polly over you. So you shot him between the eyes with one of your father’s many hunting rifles.”

Her shoulders slump a little and her bottom lip quivers as she looks around the room helplessly. The confident look she usually has, has slipped off like a mask, revealing a very sad girl underneath and suddenly you find yourself standing up. 

“That’s enough Veronica.” You say, surprising everyone, including Cheryl. “Just leave her alone, it’s not worth it.” You add quietly and slowly sit back down again. 

Veronica hold her hands up in defence and you force a smile before going back to picking at the plastic of your cup. 

“I don’t need you to defend me.” Cheryl seethes, her eyes full of hatred as she looks at you, and for some reason it stings. You’re used to her not liking you, but her hating you, hurts you for some unknown reason and you have to take a few deep breaths in order to stop the ache in your chest. 

“This game is sick.” Dilton adds and Cheryl uses the distraction to wipe away the tears on her cheek. “I wanna go next.” He adds making everyone look at him.

“Thats the spirit, Doiley. What secrets do you have to reveal to us?” Chuck grins. 

“I saw Ms. Grundy’s car by Sweetwater River the day Jason went missing.” He says and everyone gasps. People mumble and whisper around you and Cheryl stares straight at Dilton, her eyes narrow. “I told Betty and Jughead, and then Ms. Grundy quit her job and left Riverdale, like, two days later. And let’s not forget that Archie was also at Sweetwater River that morning.”

“Oh, my God.” Cheryl whips her head round to look at Archie. “Colour me shocked. Archie Andrews, is that why you became a mediocre musician overnight? Because you and Ms. Four-Eyes were pulling a Mary Kay Letourneau?”

“Don’t say anything. Don’t get in the gutter with them.” Veronica mutters while glaring at Cheryl. 

“Wait, what? Andrews was banging a teacher?” Chuck asks, his tone a mix of surprise and impressed and you roll your eyes at him. “I wish I would’ve known. I would have added you and Ms. Grundy to the book of conquests.”

“Classy, Chuck, as always.”

“Wait a second.” Cheryl interrupts. “That also explains why Archie can’t seem to keep a girlfriend to save his life. He’s got serious mommy issues. Anything to say for yourself Arch? Were you a victim or a perpetrator?”

“Dilton Doiley plays with guns.” Betty tries to change the subject but she’s immediately shut down.

“Big whoop, Betty. So Doiley’s a psychopath. Everyone knows that.”  

“Well, I guess it’s my turn now. Boy, do I have a twisted secret to reveal, starring Betty Cooper.”

“Leave her the hell alone, Chuck.” Archie threatens.

“Shut up, Andrews.” He replies. “Look, you may get a free peep show every night, but you do not know her. Hell, Betty doesn’t even know herself. Everybody knows why I got suspended, but what you don’t know...she dressed up like a hooker, in a God-awful black wig, drugged me, handcuffed me in the Jacuzzi, and well, I almost drowned until she got me to say what she wanted to hear. And then she really lost it. She actually thought she was Polly. But, hey, you knew all about this right, Jughead?” He asks. For a second, the question hangs in the air, everyone trying to figure out what to say next and how to process what they’ve just been told. 

But then Jughead leaps forward at punches Chuck in face causing all hell to break loose. Everyone stands and FP shoves races forward to grab Chuck and throw him outside. 

While everyone else follows them outside, eagerly awaiting a fight, you stay back and watch as Cheryl disappears upstairs, quietly sniffling as she goes. You look at the front door and then at the stairs and sigh, knowing that this is not gonna end well. She’s gonna insult you and tell you to leave her alone, but at least you can say you tried to help and then you won’t feel bad. 

So you glance at the door one more time and pray that at least one person is filming whatever is happening out there, before wandering up the stairs in search for Cheryl. 

The slight scent of maple syrup and the sound of faint cries coming from the bathroom lets you know where she’s hiding and you quietly creep along the slightly creaky floorboards, trying to remember which ones to avoid after years of practice when sneaking into Archie’s room in order to break him out. 

You stop outside of the bathroom, light coming out of the cracks of the door and your hand hovers over the handle. 

“Whoever is out there, go away.” She sniffles and you roll your eyes. 

Turning on your heel, you start to walk away, but then you hear her sob and it makes you freeze. 

You let out a quiet groan and curse the side of you that can’t leave people that are crying alone, before making your way back to the bathroom and slowly opening the door. 

The first thing you see as you duck your hear around the door is Cheryl sat on the side of the bath. Her hands gripping the edges so hard that her knuckles have turned white. He hair has fallen in front of her face and you watch as she her shoulder shake and tears drip onto the bath mat. 

“Cheryl?” You whisper and she looks up, her eyes wide as she quickly scrambles to wipe away the tears that have ruined her makeup. “Are you okay?” You ask and walk into the room. You close the door behind you and lean against it and her expression hardens. 

“I’m having the best time.” She deadpans and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. God is she stubborn. 

“Look, I know we’re not exactly best friends. Most of the time, I don’t really like to be around you-” 

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” She asks and you shrug. 

“But you know that if you need someone to talk to that won’t judge you or really know anything about you, you can. I’ll just sit and listen and you can cry or rant or I dunno. Just, know you’re not alone. You may not get along with everyone in this town, but we will all be here for you if you need us, all you have to do is ask.” You say honestly but anxiously while playing with your fingers. 

She looks at you surprised, her lips part as if she’s going to say something and you’re sure she’s going to tell you to shut up and leave her alone, but instead she says thank you and you feel yourself relax a little. 

“It’s okay.” You nod. “And for the record, what Veronica said was out of line. Everyone knows how much Jason meant to you and for her to say that is just wrong. We all know you loved your brother...a normal amount.” You add the last bit quietly and she stares at you for a few seconds before a smile twitches at her lips. “Would you like me to leave you alone now?” You ask and she shakes her head. You look around the small bathroom, trying to figure out the best place to sit and she moves along a little so you can sit beside her. “Would you like me to sit with you until you feel better?” You ask and she nods slowly, her lip wobbling again. 

You sit beside her, place a gentle hand over hers and the two of you fall into a slightly awkward but not as bad as you thought it would be, silence. 

After ten minutes, Cheryl stands and makes her way over to the mirror. She swipes her fingers under her eyes to try and get rid of her ruined mascara before messing with her hair to try and get it back to looking like normal. 

“Do I look okay?” She turns to you and stands with her arms by her side. Your breath hitches when you look at her and you wonder how she looks so pretty even in the most unflattering light that is Archie Andrews’ bathroom. 

You stand in front of her and slowly tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and you watch as she takes a shaky breath. 

“Can I?” You ask, your fingers centimetres away from her cheek and she nods slowly, her eyes locked with yours and you feel yourself growing warm from the intensity. “There.” You smile once you’ve wiped a bit of mascara away from her cheek. 

She grabs her bag and pulls her lipstick from it, but when she goes to apply it, her hands shake and you take it from her gently. 

Your lips darts out between your tongue as you concentrate on keeping the lipstick in the lines, and you can feel her warm breath on your cheek. 

“There!” You smile proudly once your finished, but she grabs your arm before you can pull away properly as her lips connect with yours in an almost frantic kiss.

You gasp a little and then relax and kiss back just as frantically, but she pulls away after a few seconds and the two of you stare at each other wide-eyed and breathless. 

“Your lipstick’s ruined.” You whisper and her lips curl into a smile. 

“Worth it.” She replies before pulling you close to her and kissing you again. 

support my writing! if you want! 

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt12

hi!! sorry i’m posting so late, i had a super busy day today! but i’m here now and i hope you guys are all having a wonderful time :) thank you so much for reading and being so supportive!! pls share if you can 💕

pt 1

pt 11

pt 13

Every time she saw him, the memories of all of their fights and the times he had made her cry over him came flooding back. But she also felt relief in knowing that he was safe and seeing that he was trying to make a change. Needless to say, (Y/N) spent most of her time avoiding Zuko, because her head spun every time she was around him.

To say that (Y/N) was happy to be back with her friends was an understatement. She was absolutely ecstatic. As they flew away from the Fire Nation and to the Western Air Temple, they caught her up on all the adventures they had had while she had been in prison.  

“We were hunted by this guy that can shoot, like, supersonic beams from his head,” Toph informed her. 

“I call him Combustion Man!” Sokka cut in. 

“Toph and I got thrown into jail!” Katara said. 

“And I went to Fire Nation school!” Aang called back as he steered Appa. 

“I learned to swordfight from the best Master in the Fire Nation,” Sokka said, flexing his bicep. “Pretty impressive, huh?” 

“Oh, you met Piandao? He’s so nice! He came to my birthday parties every year when I was younger.” Sokka pouted and leaned back into the side of Appa’s saddle. 

“I forget that you lived in the Fire Nation.” 

It took days until they reached the temple. As much as she loved Appa, (Y/N) was so thankful to be back on solid ground. She hadn’t worn real shoes in weeks and it was so nice to feel the stone and grass beneath her feet. 

This Air Temple was just as breathtaking as the first one she had seen, back when she and her friends had traveled to the North Pole. It was built into the mountain, making it virtually inaccessible from any other way except airbending. It extended across the mountain range. The temples themselves looked as if they had been built upside down. 

While her friends set up camp on the main level of the temple, (Y/N) had decided to walk down to the woods where she had seen a river as they flown over. They hadn’t been allowed to shower in their area of the prison, so she had weeks worth of grime and dirt caked onto her skin. She was surprised her friends had held her so tight when she reunited with them. She smelled horrible. 

Sokka was hesitant to let her go by herself. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “I can protect myself.” 

“I know, but...” He let his sentence trail off, but he didn’t have to finish it. The last time Sokka had left her alone, she had been captured by the Fire Nation and tossed into a prison. He hadn’t been sure if she was alive for weeks. She understood his worry. 

She kissed him quickly before smiling. “If I’m not back in an hour, then you can unleash you fury,” she said with a wink, walking away. 

She sat in the river for a long time, just scrubbing her skin and combing her fingers through her matted hair. The water felt so nice on her skin. If she could, she would stay in there forever. But she knew Sokka would seriously come swinging down the hill with a sword if she was late, so she dried herself off and put on the Fire Nation clothes that Katara had given her. 

(Y/N) slipped on a red, long-sleeved cropped shirt and matching flowy pants. The whole outfit felt light and airy and she couldn’t wait to firebend in it. Kneeling down at the edge of the river, she stared at her reflection as she put her hair into a traditional Fire Nation top knot, but this time with the flame bobby pin she had worn in her old life. She had kept it wrapped in fabric, tucked away in the bottom of Katara’s clothing bag. She hadn’t worn it for almost an entire year, but as soon as she stuck it into place, she felt whole again. There were some parts of her that would always be Fire Nation, and that was okay. 

She traveled back up the hill, her hair still wet, but decided she’d just ask Aang to dry it for her. She hoped that Sokka had caught something for them to eat because it had been weeks since she’d had an actual good meal. Fish, rice, and maybe some mashed berries for dessert if they could find some? Her mouth watered at the thought. (Y/N) laughed at herself for a moment. Her palette had drastically changed since she had been traveling with her friends. 

Instead of a nice, hot meal, (Y/N) walked back into the Western Air Temple to find all of her friends looking ready to attack. Confused, she turned her head and there he was. The boy she wanted to see least at the moment. 

“(Y/N)!” Zuko exclaimed, running over to her. He grabbed her hands in his. “I’m glad you’re okay. I went back to the prison to break you out when I left, but you were gone by the time I got there.” 

She pulled her hands out of his as Sokka walked up and shoved Zuko away. “Hey, don’t touch her!” He said, his voice low and threatening. 

“Watch it!” Zuko snapped back. He looked at (Y/N) confusedly and she hated that she could still tell exactly what he was thinking at that moment. What’s going on here? He seemed to silently ask, and she averted her gaze as quickly as possible. 

“You can’t just show up here and ask for forgiveness after everything you’ve done,” Katara snapped. (Y/N) looked up at Sokka. 

“What’s happening?” She asked. 

“He wants to join us,” he said, his eyes still narrowed at Zuko. 

“I’ve changed,” Zuko said, but this time he directed his words at (Y/N). She tried hard to avoid his gaze. 

“Are you crazy? You’ve tried to kill us, multiple times!” Sokka yelled at him. 

“And capture Aang!” Katara pointed out. 

“Please,” Zuko said. “I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done. I’m sorry for trying to capture you, I’m sorry for trying to kill you, I’m sorry for sending that bounty hunter after you--” 

“You sent Combustion Man after us?” Toph questioned. 

“I mean, that’s not his name, but yes.” 

“The answer is no, Zuko,” Aang said decidedly. “There’s no way that we can trust you.” 

“(Y/N)...” Zuko said to her quietly. She crossed her arms and walked away from him. 

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

“I think you guys are just holding grudges against Zuko,” Toph said that night at dinner. “Aang needs a firebending teacher.” 

“You don’t understand, Toph. You weren’t there for all the destruction he caused,” Katara said as she sipped on her soup. “He betrayed me in Ba Sing Se and he’s hurt (Y/N) more times than I can count.” 

“Besides,” Sokka cut in. “(Y/N) can teach Aang firebending!” She shook her head quicky. 

“I’m too much out of practice. My family wouldn’t let me get training while we stayed in the Earth Kingdom. I know a couple advanced moves, but definitely not enough to help Aang beat the Fire Lord.” She smiled at Aang apologetically. 

“On the one hand, it’s hard to forget everything that Zuko has done to us. But the monks taught me that everyone deserves a second chance,” Aang said. 

“And a third and a fourth?” Sokka muttered. 

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” Toph asked. “You were pretty quiet when he was here today.” 

She stared into her soup to avoid everyone’s gaze. “The truth it, I don’t know how I feel about it. He’s done some pretty awful things. But you need a firebending teacher, Aang. A good one. And as much as I hate to say it, Zuko’s good.” 

Sokka stood, his bowl clattering to the ground as he stormed off toward the bedrooms. Katara moved to go after him, but (Y/N) put her hand up. “I’ll do it,” she sighed, setting her bowl down. She walked briskly down the hall to Sokka’s room, where a sliver of light filtered through the door. She slid it open. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. He looked at her, his brows furrowed in anger. 

“What’s wrong? You’re out there defending him!” 

“I wasn’t defending him, Sokka.” 

“Well that’s what it sounded like! After everything he’s done to you, you still want to just forgive him by letting him into our group?” 

“Letting him in the group doesn’t mean that I forgive him! It just means that I’m willing to push past my own emotions so that Aang has a chance at beating the Fire Lord!” 

“He can do it without firebending.” 

“We both know that’s not true.” Sokka sighed and turned away from her. 

“I don’t want to constantly be around the reason that I didn’t know whether you were alive or not.” She smiled sadly at him. She walked to his side and intertwined their fingers. 

“Technically, Azula’s the reason I got thrown in jail.” She smiled at him until a small smile formed on his own lips. “We don’t have to like him, but we can put up with him for a few weeks until Aang beats Ozai.”

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

Once Zuko had defeated Combustion Man, the four friends begrudgingly let him join their group. It was a difficult decision for everyone, especially Katara, because she still held on to the memory of Zuko betraying her in the underground palace of Ba Sing Se. (Y/N) was also very uncomfortable with Zuko joining their group. Every time she saw him, the memories of all of their fights and the times he had made her cry over him came flooding back. But she also felt relief in knowing that he was safe and seeing that he was trying to make a change. Needless to say, (Y/N) spent most of her time avoiding Zuko, because her head spun every time she was around him. 

She had been laying out the sleeping bags for the night when Zuko approached her. They were completely alone, so there was no one she could run towards as a distraction. She knew he was there but refused to look up at him. He cleared his throat to get her attention. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he said. “For letting me join your group.” She raised her eyebrow at him.

“It was Toph’s idea,” she said simply as she unfurled Katara’s sleeping bag.

“I also wanted to say that I’m really sorry for everything I’ve done to you. I didn’t say that when you came to the shop in Ba Sing Se, but I wanted to. And I wanted to apologize for everything else that happened there.” 

“Like betraying both me and your uncle after we both had thought you changed? Like letting me rot in prison while you played house with your family?” She saw him physically wince from her tone. “You’re here to teach Aang, Zuko. I have no interest in being your friend.” She laid out the last sleeping bag and walked away in search of literally anyone else. 

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

It took Zuko a while to actually start teaching Aang firebending. Because he had lost the anger he had toward the Avatar, he lost the source of his bending. (Y/N) laughed as she watched Zuko create little puffs of fire with his hands. 

“How do you do it, (Y/N)?” Aang asked. She shrugged. 

“My firebending teachers always told me that I was very headstrong and determined. I guess that’s where I get the source of my bending from.” She walked away from the conversation just as Zuko opened his mouth to say something else. 

He and Aang traveled to the Sun Warrior civilization and (Y/N) would be lying if she said she wasn’t glad to have him gone. Not being around him gave her room to breathe. Every moment he was there, she was thinking of what quip she would give when he tried to talk to her, or the nearest way she could escape if he roped her into a conversation. It was nice to be able to walk around freely without having to worry if Zuko was around. 

When Aang and Zuko returned, they both excitedly told the group of their discovery of the two last dragons in existence. (Y/N) was shocked to learn this because in school she had always learned that Iroh had killed the last dragon. She wasn’t surprised to discover that he had done it to protect them. Iroh was conscientious about things like that. 

Slowly but surely, Zuko’s relationship with everyone in their group (except (Y/N) and Katara) was starting to improve. Toph had never had anything against him and quickly forgave him for accidentally burning her feet. Zuko was incredibly rough around the edges, but Aang learned to like him during their time with the Sun Warriors. Even Sokka would take Zuko down to the river sometimes and fish with him. They did it mostly in silence, but it was still an improvement from their previous interactions. 

Every time Zuko tried to talk to Katara, she shut him down with a harsh comment. (Y/N) either did the same or completely avoided him altogether. He cared about becoming Katara’s friend as well, but it tore him apart inside whenever (Y/N) brushed him off like he didn’t exist. Every night, he lay in bed and thought of the good times they had had together. He thought about building sand castles with her at Ember Island, about attending boring etiquette classes and making silly faces at each other from across the room, and about sneaking into the kitchens on his tenth birthday and stealing fruit tarts for her. 

He knew he had caused her a lot of pain, which is why he was trying his best to be patient. But every morning he woke up wanting to talk to her and when she wouldn’t let him, it was like a painful jab to his heart. Whenever he saw her toss her head back and laugh loudly at something one of her friends said, his heart swelled because he loved the noise and sank because he wasn’t the one making her laugh. 

Zuko watched from the bank of the river as (Y/N) and Sokka wrestled each other in the water. They couldn’t stop laughing and sometimes Toph would create mounds of earth to come up and knock one of them off of their feet, furthering their laughing fit. He watched as Sokka wrapped his arms around her waist and tossed her into the water. 

“So...” Zuko said slowly, his eyes cutting to Aang. The young Avatar sat on the ground beside him, feeding Momo berries and rubbing his belly. “Sokka and (Y/N) are together.” It was phrased as more of a direct statement, but he hoped that Aang would provide him with more information. 

“Yeah!” Aang said as he scratched between Momo’s ears. “They’ve been going out for a few weeks now. About time, if you ask me.” 

Zuko felt the anger growing inside of him and took three deep breaths to calm himself down. He had had a feeling that the two were more than just friends for a while now. They sat closer together at dinner and if one of them was alone, they always found the other. They acted the way (Y/N) and Zuko had, long before all of this had happened. He had known it at the back of his mind, but refused to believe it. Hearing Aang confirm it just made him angry. Aang must have sensed this, because he turned to him. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah!” Zuko said, just a bit too forcefully. “It’s just very different being around her now.” 

“You mean how she doesn’t want to talk to you at all or have anything to do with you?” 

Zuko narrowed his eyes at Aang, who gave a sheepish smile. 

“I guess you’re not wrong,” Zuko admitted. Sokka had lifted her over his shoulder and tossed her into the water. She resurfaced giggling and threw herself into him to knock him over. 

“When she first joined us,” Aang said quietly. “We could all tell that she missed someone a lot. It wasn’t until after Sokka rescued her from your ship that we realized the person she was missing was you. I think she really cares about you, Zuko, which makes this a lot harder for her than the rest of us.” 

Zuko smiled softly at his friend. “Thanks, Aang.” 

“No problem!” 

---

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[kiranogareru]

What She Loved Most

WARNING: Death, blood

A/n: Gender neutral reader in this one

Also when I post a request I've been working on, I'm closing requests for good (probably, idk I might change my mind and re-open them one day)

Y/n was getting annoyed from all the drunk people, the stench of cigarettes and the heavy smell of flowery perfumes mixed with colonges!

This fancy party altogether had become insufferable, making Y/n question why they even attended in the first place..but of course appearances are important when you're new in the hero scene!

'Tch! Appearances, status..like all you fuckers have nothing to hide!'

Y/n got up from the couch, making their way to the balcony, to get away for a bit

Everything felt so loud and they felt out of place!

When they finally managed to walk through the dance floor, filled with drunk, swaying bodies, they noticed that a man, around their age, was also out there!

Y/n sighed, while leaning onto the marble covered surface, preventing them from a fall, and took a sip from the stong, orange liquor in their glass!

From their peripheral vision, they could see the man downing his own drink

"Bad day?" Y/n asked the rather attractive man, nonchalantly

"More like, bad life" He bluntly responded

He came closer to where Y/n was standing

They started talking, getting to know each other a little, just to realize that they hadn't shared an important detail...their names!

"I'm Katsuki by the way" He gave a smirk full of pride

"I'm Y/n! Dynamite right? I've heard a lot about you!" They smiled while scanning his appearance

He looked ravishing in a suit!

His shirt defining every muscle that he's worked so hard to build!

Of course being the fiery person he is, Bakugou wasn't wearing a tie and had left a few buttons open

His wild ash blonde hair, was styled in spikes as usual

'Hmm he looks like he doesn't give a fuck..I like him'

"So, did you come here alone?" Y/n asked him, getting curious

"They look fun" Y/n snickered while watching them

"I came alone, but they came with me?" He rolled his eyes and gestured at a group of young heroes

A red head had hardened his whole body and was getting zapped by an electric blonde, while a raven haired guy was trying to stop them, getting electrocuted in the process and making a beautiful pink woman burst into laughter!

"I guess. Who did you come with?" Bakugou's gaze returned on Y/n

"No one" They simply said, getting a nod of understanding from him

"Do you have a partner?" Bakugou asked casually

"Normally I work alone" Y/n took a gulp of their glass

"I'm asking if you're single dumbass!" He chuckled in amusement, his eyes trailing along their form

"Hm? Bold of you to assume anyone likes me!" Y/n laughed it off

"What about you?"

"Do I look like I have time for that shit?Besides..my last girlfriend died" He said bluntly, gazing at the view in front of him

"I- I'm sorry I didn't mean-" Y/n's words were cut short by Bakugou

"No, it's ok. I don't mind.." He assured "I had to talk about it to the media a lot, I'm used to it!"

"May I ask how?" Y/n asked him, a bit unsure if they had crossed some kind of line and upset him

Y/n turned to look at him, for any type of reactions or response..

"A villian" He replied, turning his head so that he can look at them, causing an intense moment of eye contact

"Oh..was she killed on duty?" Y/n questioned, feeling rather dumb, since the answer seemed pretty obvious

"Yeah, she was killed by what she loved most!" He said, turning his attention back to the view

"She must have been a great hero"

*After the party*

The duo ended up walking down the street, enjoying a stroll without needing to patrol for once!

They kept on walking under the dim streetlights, taking in the strong smell of the fresh, night air. Until...

"Huh, what was that?" Bakugou said, stopping dead in his tracks and staring into a dark alleyway

"I didn't hear anything, but let's be on our guard" Y/n said, following his actions

"C'mon, this way!" He told Y/n, taking their hand and leading the way

They went in the alley, stopping at the end of it, which actually was a dead-end?

"What are we doing here?" They questioned him, feeling uneasy and wary of this situation

"Don't worry...I'd say that I won't hurt you, but that would be a lie!" His voice was low and the way he towered over Y/n was intimidating

Bakugou pulled them in front of himself, bringing his hands up to their neck and wrapping them around it tightly!

"You know...you remind me of her!" He whispered, looking at them in adoration

Y/n's eyes widened, stomach dropping, heart sinking, all in fear for their life!

'Move! Do something! Use your quirk dammit!' They told themself, but it felt as if the shock had paralyzed them

"Don't even think about activating it, I'll blow your ass sky high" He threatened with a growl

Of course what they didn't know was that he was bluffing!

Bakugou is smart and strategic, he knew that activating his quirk would only bring attention to him and he'd be found out!

Besides he'd figured out a way to avoid all suspension..

He detached one hand from them, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a knife that resembled Toga's, slowly dragging the end of it up the side of Y/n's neck, then along their jaw halting just bellow their chin!

"You have that look in your eyes..the same exact look she had when she was in your position!" He smiled

"You lied" Y/n managed to breath out

"No, no. I did not lie, baby!" Was he really so much into this, that he saw them as his previous partner?

"I told you she was killed by what she loved most. You assumed I meant heroics, but..I'm what she loved most, she was addicted to my love!" He told them, while the grin on his face widened

"You're the villian!" Y/n's eyes sank in realisation

"NO! She was!" His grip tightened and the blade grazed Y/n's skin

"I thought she was as obsessed with me as I was with her, that she loved me as much as I loved her!" He leaned his forehead on mine, blade still in place

"But she betrayed me! All she wanted was intel!" He closed his eyes, while still in their face, as if he was savoring the moment

"I had clear orders to kill her and when I did..it felt so good! That way she would never hurt me again, she couldn't lie to me anymore, she couldn't use me!" He pulled away from Y/n, staring in their soul

"But you see..her plan failed and I caught her!" He smiled once more

"She attacked and when she saw it was me, she hasitated..but-" His face twisted into a psychotic grin and he laughed

"Something is missing" He said, slightly tilting his head, while frowning

"You should have seen her face! The fear in her beautiful eyes, the surprise written on her face, as if to say she would never expect me to do that! I could almost hear her rapid heartbeat"

The way he spoke about these terrifying things was laced in adoration and love!

Y/n could have sworn the blood had frozen in their veins

"You're sanity! That's what's missing!" Y/n spat

"Hah, you're even acting the same! It's that day all over again!" He sounded so excited, it was disturbing

"Say you love me" He demanded, voice stern, with an ice cold glare to match it

"No" As soon as the word escaped Y/n's lips, Bakugou's hand heated up on their skin

"Tell me you fucking love me!" He commanded once more, hand tightening it's grip on their neck

Y/n's eyes squeezed shut, subconsciously, at the sudden action!

"I-I love you" They choked out in a whimper

"I love you too baby" He whispered

"Please, don't kill me!" They begged

"I'll kill you as many times as I need to baby! Until there's no trace of you left!" He mused, withdrawing the blade from their skin, leaving a kiss at the spot

He stabbed Y/n right through their heart! Blood trailing from the wound like a river and some spilling from their mouth!

He slid the hand that was on Y/n's neck, to their mouth, getting blood all over it!

He put his bloodied hand on his shirt, right where his heart is, and smeared it, staining his clothes with their blood!

Y/n could feel their soul being drained from them, trying to claw it's way out of their body!

Bakugou twisted the blade, before pulling it out, letting their body hit the ground and a pool of blood to form around it!

The last thing he did, was look at their lifeless self, satisfied with his work!

Even if Y/n was found, the heroes would think this was the work of the league!

"My love" He looked up at the sky "I hate you! I'll see you in the next one" He laughed

Bakugou took off, quietly making his way to his residence, carefully dodging any heroes on patrol!

[lubdubsworld]

Bird Bones

Chapter 1  /  Chapter 2  / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4

Chapter 5

“So, did you guys think about it?” Seokjin asked casually, watching me struggle back into my shoes after getting down from the examination table. He looked a little nervous as he stared at me and I bit my lips.

“I haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. He’s gone to Seoul with Hoseok for their dance showcase.” I said hesitantly. The last few weeks had been hectic, with Hoseok preparing for the showcase and me having to tell the administration I was pregnant. Surprisingly, most of my professors were kind about it, agreeing to share notes with me personally on days when I had to miss classes. I would miss out on a few lab credits because they coincided pretty closely with my due date but that was a whole six months away and I didn’t want to worry about it right now. 

Seokjin hummed in response and waited till I was sitting down in front of him before leveling a look at me. 

“I see and ….he would have to agree too...because?” Seokjin asked pointedly, and I flinched. 

 It was a loaded question, one that made my throat dry. 

We weren’t married. There was zero reason to have his approval to put the baby up for adoption. 

With Jungkook out of town , his parents had contacted me again about the NDA. I’d told them to sort it out with their son first before approaching me again , but I knew they were getting nervous. Jungkook was making it clear that he was sticking around and it was making everyone nervous.

Including me. 

“Its not... I’m not going to say no if he says no or anything like that. It’s just ... he asked me to keep him in the loop that’s it.” I protested. 

“I’m not saying anything.” He held his hands up. “ Just ....remember who he is, yeah? He’s not.... He’s not for you.”

It was hard to forget , I thought miserably, what with everyone throwing it at my face every day. 

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

I continued to stay at Hoseok’s place while he was at the showcase. It was better than the dorm for sure and I knew that it only made people resent me more. As a professor in my college, Hoseok had a lot of perks and most of my peers thought i was enjoying them in exchange for sleeping with him.

On the weekend before he was due to come back home, Hoseok called me from his hotel room.

“How are you holding up?” He asked casually and I could hear voices in the background. I wanted to ask him about Jungkook but I didn’t.

“I’m fine. I got my check up and Seokjin oppa told me we could fix a date to meet Yoongi and Namjoon.” I said softly, settling into the comfortable couch and tugging on the phone line. 

“Hmm.... fair enough. I’ll let Jungkook know. He’s out with Sana tonight so-”

“Sana?” I felt my breath catch in surprise. 

“Oh, yeah. she tagged along....you didn’t know?” Hoseok said casually and I gulped.

“Uh...no.. I mean ...whatever...they’re....she’s his girlfriend, right...” I laughed, sounding incredibly hollow to my own ears. Hoseok would see right through it.

“Fiancee.” He said curtly.

“What?”

“She isn’t just a girlfriend. She’s his fiancee...he proposed to her last year on the Han river with a hundred grand ring.....” His tone was dry and emotionless and yet each word cut to the bone. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

“You’re....you’re trying to hurt me.” I accused hoarsely.

He growled.

“No, I’m fucking pissed that this thing , this fact that Jungkook is engaged to Sana has been true for a whole damn year and yet all of a sudden it fucking hurts you because you’re letting your emotions get the better of you... Have I not taught you anything, Dasom?” 

I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down, my breathing ragged. He was right. He was absolutely right but it stung because Jungkook was.... Jungkook was so kind. So ridiculously endearing with his childlike amazement, his adorable possessiveness over me and yet somehow  so non judgmental and so eager to be a part of the baby’s life and how on earth could I not like someone who only seemed to want to care for me?? 

And he was wrong. 

I wasn’t an idiot. I had no intention of building castles in the air, dreaming of a happily ever after with someone like Jungkook. I would get through this and things would go back to the way they were. 

Just me and.... well Just me. Alone. By myself. The way it has always been.  

I took a deep shuddering breath. I wasn’t up to explaining all this to Hoseok. Not tonight when he was clearly angry. 

“I hope the showcase goes well, oppa.” I whispered, hanging up before he could respond. The phone rang a second later and I left it off the hook after disconnecting it.. 

I sat there for a long time, staring into the darkness. I had to talk to Jungkook as soon as he got back. We needed a game plan. A clear end to this thing between us. 

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

“Hoseok oppa thinks we should meet Yoongi and Namjoon this weekend. “ I said casually, watching Jungkook closely as he sipped his iced tea. He stopped for a second, eyes widening before landing on mine.

It was a late Sunday afternoon and he had agreed to meet me for coffee so we could talk about the dinner. He looked just as good as ever, bright and cheerful. The showcase had gone really well according to Hoseok and Jungkook had gotten offers from a whole bunch of entertainment agencies. 

“So soon?” He asked evenly, grip tightening on the drink. 

I shrugged staring at the long smooth fingers. Somedays i tried to remember that night. I couldn’t imagine us being graceful, having sex while drunk out of our minds . Had he been gentle? Rough? What did he like in bed? I vaguely remembered the finger shaped bruises on my wrists, like someone had gripped them together. 

Staring at his hands now, I wondered how it must’ve felt, being held like that. 

I shook my head to clear it. Nothing good would come from going down that path. 

“I’m thirteen weeks along now...First trimester is over ….there's not a lot of chance to miscarry and-”

“What the fuck why would you say that?” He whisper shouted and I frowned.

“Jungkook....”

“That’s our child you’re talking about! Don’t even say that word!”

I could only stare at him. 

“It’s going to be very difficult for you if you don’t distance yourself from this baby “ I said quietly.  And me. 

Jungkook just stared at me , his eyes blazing. 

“Our baby....  Say it. It’s  our  fucking baby. It’s not just a baby or this baby. It’s ours. We made it. Its’ going to...fucking look like us, and it’s going to get our traits and ….I just don’t understand how you can be so callous about something so amazing and----it’s our baby, Dasom...” He was looking at me in disbelief and I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“No it fucking isn’t!!!” I hissed angrily, my heart beating fast, “  It’s not ours, Jungkook. It’s... it’s not something we should be celebrating..... You and I... we’re a fucking mistake. That night was a fucking mistake and this, this baby is nothing more than an unfortunate soul that’s going to have to share the consequences of our horrendous mistake that night!” I felt tears sting. 

I refused to let his words get to me. To make me feel guilty. Jungkook with his golden life, with his perfectly gorgeous fiancee and his filthy rich parents could afford to wax poetic about the joys of parenting but i couldn’t. 

I was a poor fucking orphan with a mother who had only cared about what was between her legs. I had to fight tooth and nail just to break out of the mould everyone had made for me,. 

“Dasom-”

“No, stop...Just...stop and for once get rid of those rose tinted glasses you have on, and listen to me okay?  We’re going to give the baby up for adoption....He or she is going to be raised by kind, loving parents who can provide a stable happy environment . We’re going to stop talking to each other after that. You’re going to go get married to your Fiancee ….I’m going to go and try and build a life for myself. That’s what’s in our future....Not some utopian universe where we raise this child , taking turns changing diapers and weekends at the fucking zoo!!” I finished bitterly.

“Why do we have to stop talking to each other?” He shot back defiantly and i felt my pulse pound. 

I glared at him and he just kept staring back at me.

“Don’t-” I began but he held his hand up. 

“I told you , I’m not going to do everything my parents ask me to. I’m... I’m trying to build a life for myself too alright? I’m not going to just... I’m not married yet. I’m not married yet.” He repeated and I felt a laugh of disbelief bubble up inside me.

“What the fuck does that even mean? You’re engaged-”

“I was engaged before I was fucking born. “ He snapped, running fingers through his hair in evident frustration. “ Sana and I grew up together. We just...we’ve been told that we'll be together all our lives and its all we have ever known. But that doesn’t mean its too late for us to think about other things...other options...”

“And you’re saying I’m another option? You don’t even like me JeonJungkook-” i laughed in disbelief.

“I think you’re beautiful.” He said softly and I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

What.

 What?

“ I saw you two years ago when you dropped by the practice room to meet Hobi hyung.. I thought you were beautiful then... So wildly uncaring about what others thought and I thought you looked amazing with your long hair and easy smile...I still do.” He was staring right at me and i felt heat creep up my neck. 

I shook my head. 

“I’m not listening to this nonsense.” i said sharply, reaching for my bag from the chair next to me.

“Hyung knows... Its why he’s always telling you not to trust me.... He knows how I feel about you and he doesn’t want the competition...” He sneered and I felt my hackles rise. Jungkook’s jealousy towards Hoseok was the most irrational thing in the whole world and it pissed me off so bad. 

“Now I know you really are full of shit-”

“He’s in love with you. He’s always been in love with you and you’re too caught up in your own self pity to notice that.” He grabbed my wrist when I tried to get up from the chair. “ Sit the fuck down and let me finish.”

“You’re spouting nonsense. I’m not interested in it...” I hissed back and he laughed.

“Nonsense? I’ve never hidden how I felt about you. Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed me watching you , because everyone else has. Why else do you think Sana is so threatened? She knows... She knows I’m attracted to you...Knows that I want-----” He stopped and I knew he was going to say ‘you’ 

‘ Sana knows that I want you’ . 

I stared at him in disbelief. 

But he just barreled on,  completely unbothered by how upset I was. 

“ I want to get to know you better. And fine, even if you don’t want to keep the baby, there is no fucking way I’m going to stop talking to you.... “ He finished. 

I tried to gather my sense which felt like they’d been scattered to the seven winds. 

“Really, you talk about your fiancee so flippantly....but I heard you had a cozy little honeymoon in Seoul during your showcase...what of that?” I hated myself as soon as I said it because it made sound so horribly jealous. 

Jungkook snorted.

“Let me guess, Hobi hyung told you that huh? I bet he conveniently failed to mention that she was attending a different showcase , a whole damn district away? That we only went out for dinner one night and I was back in like an hour?” 

I stared at him, thrown . I felt confused and disoriented, not sure what was happening and why.

This had gone on long enough. 

I could not let this man do this to me. I just couldn’t. 

“Your parents met me again.” i said softly, staring right at him. “ They wanted me to sign the NDA. Did you tell them this? Can you go tell them this? Go break up with your fiancee, tell your daddy you want to date the  girl you knocked up while you were drunk out of your mind. And then, once he disowns you and kicks you out of your house and you have nowhere else to go, come see me. We’ll go out on a date, yeah?” 

 I waited for him to respond but he didn’t. So I stood up. I slung my bag up on my shoulders and stared down at him. 

“I’m meeting them on Saturday. If you want to be there, you can. And regardless of whether you turn up or not...I’m going. I’m giving the baby up for adoption and I’m getting on with my life. ” I said quietly. 

I walked out of the cafe without looking back. 

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

Yoongi sat across from me, hands twisting nervously in his lap while Namjoon poured us some water from the cut class decanter on the table. Next to me, Jungkook looked subdued and upset, eyes darting between the two men on occasion. I hadn’t talked to him after my outburst at the cafe

I peered around the house, an expensive three bedroom flat located in a good neighborhood. It was decorated tastefully and I could tell that even Jungkook was reluctantly impressed by how clean and neat everything looked. I played with the hem of my blouse while Hoseok finished his phone call, not sure what to say or how to start. 

“How are you feeling, Dasom?” Namjoon asked finally, flashing me a smile with deep dimples on either cheeks. 

“I’m doing good. I’m fourteen weeks along now and the nausea has gone down.” 

Yoongi hummed.

“My sister says the first three months are the worst.” He smiled a little and I smiled back, taking in the soft curves of his face and the nervous fingers on the lap. He looked just as terrified as I felt. 

“I’m glad you guys could meet with us. We just want to say that we’re so grateful that you guys even considered us.” Namjoon said in a rush, eyes flooding with warmth as he glanced between me and Jungkook. I felt him stiffen next to me and reached out, curling my fingers around his, pulling him closer. I linked our fingers and squeezed lightly. He squeezed back. 

“We only want what’s best for the baby, right Kook?” I said softly. He looked up at me then and I felt my heart crack at the light sheen I saw there. 

“Yeah...I...I love the baby.” He whispered and I felt a lump in my throat. 

The past few weeks, I had found myself hanging out with him way too much for my liking. For some reason, Sana stopped talking to me. She would throw occasional glares at me but she stayed away. Jungkook was conspicuously respectful. Never crossing a line enough for me to kick him away. He would throw that occasional remark that implied he was interested and shrug it off when I rejected him again. 

But he also told me that he had always wanted a family first. A wife, two kids, picket fence and all that. He loved kids,  had always been the designated babysitter to his umpteen cousins. He loved babies and he wanted as many as his fututre wife would give him. And then without warning he had just stared at me.

I hadn’t trusted myself to respond to that. 

The mind games left me exhausted. I didn’t ….not like him. He was funny , sweet and intelligent. He liked talking and he liked listening. It was just hard to enjoy when I knew what he was . A chaebol heir to a fortune. He spoke of his family with a casually dismissive attitude, about how they didn’t really give a damn about who he married and that it wouldn't be a big deal if he broke up with Sana.

But I had to remind myself that he hadn’t done it. He hadn’t broken up with her. And that meant that no matter how dismissive he was, he knew that something like that wouldn’t go by without repercussions. The fantasy of Jungkook leaving his gorgeous girlfriend because he couldn’t live without me was just that, a fantasy.  

Hoseok’s voice broke me out of my reverie.

“They’re both too young to go through with this.... Its going to be painful but like Dasom says, its the baby we need to think about.” Hoseok had hung up the phone and he stared at Jungkook, his gaze softening when he saw how miserable the younger looked. 

I pulled myself together and watched Namjoon pull out a file, containing all the formalities we would have to go through. /As i heard him explain everything, his eyes clear and intelligent, his tone gentle and kind, I felt myself making my choice. Yoongi and Namjoon loved each other deeply . They leaned on each other, evident in the way they held hands every few minutes, smiling and reassuring each other. They loved each other and they could love this baby. 

They would love this baby. 

My mind was made up.

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

“You need a ride home?” Hoseok asked casually, two hours later after we had bid goodbye to Yoongi and Namjoon. 

Next to me Jungkook stiffened. 

“I’ll drive her.” He said curtly and Hoseok ignored him, still holding a hand out.

“That’s fine Oppa, Jungkook and I need to talk.” I said tiredly. We did. There was a whole lot of formalities to be done with regards to the adoption and I wanted to talk to him about the possibility of an open adoption. Just in case he was interested. 

“You can talk tomorrow. Its already past ten-” Hoseok began but Jungkook laughed, loud and jarring. 

“What you think I’ll have my way with her and knock her up? Bit too late to worry about that right?” Jungkook drawled next to me and I felt my eyes widen in shock.

“What the- Jungkook are you crazy? Apologize!!” I hissed but he glared back at Hoseok defiantly.

Hobi chuckled a bit.

“You’re really asking to get your ass kicked Kook-ah... I’d tone down the blatant disrespect if I were you....” He said , eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“Maybe I will, if you stop lying to Dasom about how you really feel about her.”

I lost it entirely, turning around to shove him away.

“Jungkook what the fuck?!” I shouted but he gripped my wrists, stopping me from hitting him again. 

“Tell her hyung....tell her how you picked up a fucking engagement ring in Seoul....? How you told Seokjin hyung that you were going to propose when she graduates because, let me quote you, ‘ she’s docile and adjusting. She’ll make a nice companion’“

I froze. I turned around to stare at Hoseok and felt my heart drop at the sharp sharp look of guilt om his face.

I stopped struggling against Jungkook, sagging against him when ice cold disbelief flooded my veins. 

No. No , it couldn’t be.  

“You-what?”  I whispered. 

Hoseok stared at me. 

“ Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.” He said blankly. I felt bile rise up my throat. 

“Oppa-”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Hoseok snapped. 

I flinched when Jungkook’s grip tightened around me , a growl making his chest tremble. 

“Hyung , don’t-” He began angrily but Hoseok cut him off, staring at me with blazing eyes. 

“You’re always around me ..” Hoseok ground out, “ You’re literally the only person I’ve known and loved all my life.... So sue me for wanting to take responsibility for you and-”

“I’m not your responsibility.....I’m twenty years old...”

“And look how well you’re doing yeah? Knocked up with some guy’s bastard .....Just like your moth-”

I felt Jungkook move behind me and my instinct kicked in. I turned quickly gripping his arms and putting myself between them to stop him from lunging at Hoseok. 

Hoseok looked unapologetic as he stared at me. 

“If you marry me, you’ll at least be respectable.” He said softly and it was like a veil getting torn, showing him for who he really was. 

Someone who thought I was a charity case. A poor , flailing mess of a human that needed his charity to survive. 

I nodded quietly. 

“Okay. Thank you for lowering yourself enough to consider marriage with someone like me....” I said softly and he hissed.

“That’s not what I-”

“That’s exactly what you meant.” I said sharply, turning around. I couldn’t look at him anymore.

“Take me back to the dorms, yeah?” I looked at Jungkook and he nodded.

“Anything you want.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around me before throwing one last glare at Hoseok. 

Author’s note : Send me an ask about what you thought and I will love you forever <3

[yunho-es]

Member/s: Wooyoung (ATEEZ)

Genre: soft

Warnings: swear words

Words: 2043

Before reading, I want you to know that I don't use any names or Y/n's because I know many people don't really insert their names, they read it as Yin 😂 I also write in first person pov because I think it's easier to read and imagine yourself in that situation

Beads of sweat slowly rolled down my forehead as I pulled out a piece of paper from my sleeve. I knew that the exam would be hard, but I wasn't expecting it to be this detailed. Thank God my friend made me write it all on a small piece of paper. At least I will get a positive grade. Of course he made me do it, he passed the school with those. Thankfully, he didn't go to medicine school. If I ever ended up on his surgery table, I would die.

Three more minutes until the end and one more question unanswered. The teacher noticed me shifting in my seat, but she knew I always get good grades. She finally stopped looking at me and gave her attention to a group of boys trying to switch their papers. I glanced one more time at the piece of paper and put it back in my sleeve. Just as I finished the answer, the bell rang. Half of the class groaned, probably because they didn't manage to finish in time. I took my backpack and left the paper with my name on the main table.

"Good job! Honestly, your exams are always my favorite to grade. I'm really happy to have a student like you."

"Thank you, Mrs Johnson. See you on Monday."

Once I got outside I noticed the sky already getting dark. It was just 5 pm and winter was already doing it's job; the roads were wet and slippery from mixed rain and snow and it must've been under 0 Celsius. Usually I walk home because it's not far away, but my school uniform, rain and cold weather didn't go well together. I was just about to call my roommate when I felt car lights on me, followed by a familiar voice.

"I think quicker than you do." Wooyoung smiled as he opened the door. "Get in please I don't want to spend the next week taking care of an annoyingly picky roommate. I have plans to get drunk and do something stupid."

"You do stupid things anyway without drinking. So save the money and the time. And oh, save me from embarrassment." I get in the car sticking my tongue out at him. "Did you cook anything? I'm starving."

"No, of course. I slept the whole day." I look at him, hoping to see a smile on his face that would give me a sign that he's joking. "Don't look at me like that, I was tired from the night shift. I'll take you to McDonald's." he drove out of the school parking.

"I don't want trash, Wooyoung. I want food." I groaned. He told me that he would try cooking something, but it's been a week and he didn't do anything. "Please buy some pasta and tomato sauce I'll make something."

"Honestly, I really don't feel like waiting. And McDonald's is f**king awesome!" his hand reached out to turn on the radio. "How can you not love the little purple box full of 12 golden beauties?"

It did sound good, but we haven't eaten any "real" food for a month and my stomach started to ache. Living with Wooyoung has its bad and good sides, the bad sides mainly being his laziness and stubbornness. Speaking of stubbornness, of course he took the left turn towards McDonald's.

"What do you want?"

"What a polite way to ask me. You've loosened up I see." I frown at him. He rolls his eyes dramatically and turns towards me with his whole body.

"Your Highness, what do you wish to consume today?"

"That's just too much."

"What the h*ll do you want? I'm taking 3 burgers and fries and you aren't touching them." the brown haired boy points his finger towards my face. I squint my eyes at him, then bite his finger. "Crazy woman."

"Hello, may I take your order?"

"Hello, yes. I'd like a..."

***

"Is this place good enough for the Queen?" Wooyoung spoke with his mouth full of fries and ketchup. We sat on the roof of his car on a parking lot near a river. The place is good enough for the Queen.

"Eat before you speak, what's wrong with you?" I laugh at him, seeing that he spilled the ketchup on his t-shirt. "No girl will want you like this."

"To be honest I'm not interested right now." he replied immediately.

I'd lie if I said that my heart didn't sink a bit. Whoever said that boys and girls can't be friends was right. One side always catches feelings, big or small. In my case, I believe it's a small crush. He's the only boy I hang out with, so that must be why.

"Why?" I allow myself to ask.

"I had a little crush on a girl but I had to give it up." he kept stuffing his mouth with food, trying to avoid the conversation.

"And...?" I look at him expecting more. But he keeps his mouth shut and folds the paper of the burgers in his hands.

"Are you thirsty?" Wooyoung offers a can of soda, still looking at his fingers.

"Yes, thank you." he opens the can for me, first taking a sip himself, then giving the green beverage to me. I drink the whole can almost immediately.

"You could've said earlier that you were thirsty, I had water in the car." his tone visibly changed. He sounded more serious now, as if he just wanted to go home and lock himself in the room. "Want another one?" he reaches for another can.

"I think I have one more sip here." I throw my head back trying to drink every single drop of the refreshing juice. I slowly started to lean back, forgetting that I'm not in the chair but on the roof of the car. "Sh*t!" I curse as I almost fall on the rocky floor.

"Hey!" Wooyoung quickly reacts and grabs my hands, pulling me towards him. All the empty cans rolled down on the floor, making loud noises. "You good?" he asks, eyes on my face.

His hands felt so warm around mine. I really didn't want to let go. "I'm good." I pull away, trying to get down to collect the cans.

"Leave the d*mn cans there. You almost fell down. Do you see those rocks down there? What if you hit your head? What would I do?"

"I'd pay to get your car cleaned from my blood, Wooyoung." I laugh, but when I notice that his face didn't change, my smile drops. "What's wrong? Why isn't it funny when I say something like this?"

"Behind all these jokes you have to understand that you are very important to me and I have a soft spot for you. If anything happened to you my life would stop. I'm a serious man behind all my sarcastic jokes. Please watch yourself, because I can't do it all the time. It takes a second to turn a peaceful situation into a disaster."

I stare at him with my mouth a little open. I'm surprised at his words, I never heard him talk like this. I manage to say a sorry, turning my head away from him.

After a few seconds of silence, which seemed like hours, he got down and picked up all the cans, then offered me his hand. "Be careful." I put my hand in his, slowly getting down on the floor. "What dumbass even puts these rocks on the parking lot?" he picks up a few of them and pushes them away, leaving the bigger and heavier ones where they were.

"I think because they don't want someone else to have the spot." I watch as he tries to move a few more rocks. "Leave it, you're gonna hurt yourself. Let's just go back home, please?"

"Alright." he leaves the rocks and opens the door for me. Then he proceeds to enter the car himself. "But just for the record, I could've moved those rocks." his lips curved in a small smile. He can't help himself.

***

It suddenly became quiet in the house. Wooyoung layed on the sofa, watching the TV, and I sat on the floor behind the coffee table with my back leaning on the sofa.

"I'm a bit disappointed that we didn't take any photos." I pouted, scrolling down my Instagram feed. He didn't respond. I kept quiet for a few more minutes, then broke the silence again. "Do you think you could pick me up tomorrow from school again?" again, no answer.

I turn around towards him and see that his eyes are closed. He fell asleep while watching the TV. I took a blanket from my room and layed next to him under it. It's not my first time napping with him, but most of the time he refuses. He says that he is a kicker in his sleep and that he doesn't want to hurt me.

The sofa in our living room is quite small so I have to basically lay on Wooyoung. Just as I close my eyes, I feel his hand around my waist, bringing me even closer to him. Now my head was on his chest and I was surrounded by his scent and warmth. This must be what heaven feels like. Usually when we sleep like this together, it takes us a few hours to fall asleep. Mainly because he can't stop making jokes and I can't stop laughing. But this is different. It's calm. It's beautiful.

I couldn't tell if he was asleep or just pretending. He held me close and rubbed my back slowly. "Wooyoung?" I tried calling.

"Hm?" he responds sleepily.

"Are you okay?" I look up at him. His eye are still closed, but his fingers are still drawing tiny patterns on my waist and back.

"Mhm." again, I receive a short answer. When I try to move and give him some space so he can sleep peacefully, he opens his eyes to look at me. "Please don't move. I want to sleep like this." one of his hands moved my hair from both of our faces. "Please?" he asked, almost whispering.

I have never witnessed this side of Wooyoung. His voice was different, his movements were different, his eyes were different. This is the Wooyoung I wanted for myself, but couldn't have him. It took me a few longer seconds to realise that we are staring at each other, doing nothing but breathing quietly. Once his hot breath fell on my lips I couldn't help but close my eyes and sigh. Right now, I hoped for one thing to happen.

"Why can't I have you like this every day?" his soft voice whispered. I try to speak, but as soon as I move my lips, I feel something soft brushing against them. My breath stops and I force myself to open my eyes. He's looking down at my lips as if thinking if the next step is smart to do. I allow myself a moment of bravery and I put my hands on his chest, getting closer to him. "F**k it." he mutters, finally putting his hands on my cheeks and pressing his lips against mine.

His lips must've been the softest thing to exist on this planet. I tried to move, but my body was frozen. I couldn't do anything, just lay and enjoy the softness and the warmth of his lips. He pulled away for a second, trying to say something, but when he didn't succeed, he went back to the older position. Then, again, he pulls away.

"You are so sweet. You taste like I always imagined." the red cheeked boy whispers, brushing the tip of his nose against mine.

"More, please." I manage to say. My lips and throat are dry, my mind is going crazy, and my stomach is witnessing fireworks. Wooyoung smiles, still not letting go of my cheeks. "Please." I get impatient.

He leans in again, this time kissing me with more passion. It stopped being sweet and soft, now only one word existed in my mind: more. And he happily listened.

[randbwrite]

La Comtesse Chronicles Chapter 5 Part 1

Words: 1561

TW: Death, violence, blood CW: vampires, assassins

R:

His blush at her calling him “luv” was quite satisfying. Smirk widened. He was quite cute like that, hmmm, strange feeling there. Maybe this is why Arthur had fun making the ladies blush? 

Her ears were good enough to be able to hear them while she dispatched their enemies. The banter between these two suggested they were rather good friends. Good, that would make the transition easier. Certainly, it would be some time before Cal was able to make friends with the residents at the mansion, given what he had done to her. Arthur would likely be the least forgiving of them all, since he had treated her wounds personally.

<<Yes, I am one. Figured out yet I haven’t exactly aged since you got here?>>

Ah, now there was the answer to a question she had. She had suspected as much but left such things to the proper time.  Good to know she was escorting two vampires rather than a human and newly sired vampire. Next question would be who his sire was, but that would have to wait. 

They made their way through the citadel, she dispatching anyone that stood in their way. Even in the council room, she had worked with surgical speed and accuracy. Now, they stood outside what remained of the assassin’s league. She turned around and listened intently to both of them.

<<You will have my unwavering loyalty for the rest of my life, this I swear.>>

“I thank thee for such an expression of devotion, brave sir knight. Remember though, I am no queen, my domain is but a small part of the world. And to answer your question, I can tell by the way you speak. I remember the courts of old.”

<<So dramatic! But yeah, what he said. Obviously, I don’t have an issue not fighting on the side of the angels, but if there were any such thing, I’d say you come the closest. Avenging angel, maybe.>>

Laughter, this time short and to the point, more like a scoff but without the derision. A somber tone and expression took hold. “You will learn soon enough that I am no angel, I have never deserved such admiration. An angel of death more than an avenging angel, darkness and despair is all that has followed me for hundreds of years. There is a reason that I am called to the battlefield, and it’s not to make the place art worthy. But, if you wish to think of me as such, I cannot stop you.” Gaze met his, eyes wavering, telling tales of old, death, and destruction, of unimaginable loss, all in an instance. 

She uncased her wings, slowly, her eyes glowing for a moment. “Time to go home.” Wings stretched and flapped a few times before she took off, the two of them flying right behind her via her abilities. 

Over the countryside they flew, the small lives of those below unable to be seen but able to be felt as their tiny figures moved about. Over rivers, forests, and ravines they flew still. A good time later a castle came into view, situated on a cliff, its defenses rivaled by few. 

Landing gently in front of two large doors, she glanced back at them both before knocking. Door creaked open to reveal a man dressed as a butler. 

“Ah, M. La Comtesse, glad to see you’ve finally arrived. I have dinner set for our newest gue-” He stopped, there were two men with her, not one. “M. la Comtesse? Two?” A slightly exasperated sigh. “A little warning next time would be nice. Now the dinner service will have to be adjusted. You are also late. Did something happen?”

A chuckle at his sass, something that she had found endearing over the years. “A few unexpected things happened, including bringing our second guest with me. He was in a predicament that I could not ignore.”

“Ah, very good. M. la Comtesse. I shall have a second room arranged immediately. You know, this reminds me of when you brought the Van Gogh brothers here. Are they brothers?”

“Not to my knowledge, though they banter like they are. Suppose you’ll have to ask them when you’re not pretending they aren’t right behind me. Can we move on? The smaller gentleman is in need of rouge.”

“Of course, M. la Comtesse.” It was then that Sebastian figured out that it was Cal who had done the unthinkable to his mistress. Though he hid his displeasure well from her in tone, the look he gave Cal was as cold and furious as a blizzard. “Might I have their names?”

“Oh, sorry… the larger gentleman is named Derrick, the smaller is called Rapscallion, though he also seems to go by Cal.” She stepped past Sebastian to be met by the prying eyes of the castle residents. “Good evening everyone.” She motioned at their new guests, “These two, Derrick and Cal, will be living here from now on. No harm should come to either of them, or you’ll be answering to me personally. Now, can we have a normal dinner, please? It’s been a long day.”

A few more steps into the castle and she faltered. A grunt and she began to fall, only to be caught by Arthur. “Now, luv, what have I said about overexerting yourself?”

“Mmmmm, I don’t need a lecture now….” Her wings went back into her back and she began to breathe heavily. 

Quietly, he spoke to her, “You know, dove, you didn’t need to bring him back here, let alone two. Seems like it may not have been worth the effort.” Arthur shot both men a look, his eyes showing of his vampiric rage. All that left him as he picked her up and carried her off. 

“Apologies gentlemen, introductions of your fellow residents shall have to wait till dinner itself.” Sebastian chimed in, “My name is Sebastian. I am the head of staff here and am the butler that serves M. la Comtesse personally. Now, let’s get you two cleaned up so you are presentable. Can’t have you dressed like that for dinner with everyone.”

He ushered them both to where they could bathe and get their choice of finer clothing. 

……

“What happened out there, luv?” Arthur inquired, his eyes looking over her exhausted figure. 

“I’m not used to having to carry so much weight with my powers for so long. Seems I need to train more. Not used to flying while using my powers either. The battlefield usually doesn’t call for use of my wings. I had been planning on just carrying back one, not two.”

“And why are there two? Who do we need to watch out for…. Who…. who did those horrible things to you?”

“Ask Jean, I’d rather not tell everyone so as to give them a chance to make their own impressions.”

“Ever the mystery with you, luv. What am I ever to do with you, hmm?”

She scoffed, “Suppose you’ll stay with me, as you always have. I’ll be fine Arthur, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Mmmm, the blood on your clothes tell enough of the tale.”

Eyebrows quirked, “Damn, guess I wasn’t as focused as I usually am. Apologies to Sebastian and the staff.”

“Get some rest and change, maybe take a bath. Till dinner then, luv.” With that, Arthur left her alone, all the while hatching a plan to figure out which of the two had tried to kill their beloved Comtesse. 

…...

Having scrubbed all the blood off her, a bath had felt refreshing, especially for her sore wing muscles. Sheesh, that was a long flight. Ah, yes, dinner. Time to look nice and make pleasantries. This was going to be interesting. Never before had she brought anyone to the mansion with as much issue with the other residents. Even Theo, resident tsundere, or Mozart, resident grump had been this much of an issue. She only hoped her warning not to harm them would stick. Didn’t mean they had to accept them, or be nice for that matter. Oy vey this was a mess. 

…...

Heels clicked on the hard floor as she entered the dining room. Starry dress flowed with each movement, it looking like it was the sky just as the sun had decided to finally sleep. Everyone seated now rose to greet her. Sebastian pushed in the chair with her as she sat down, ever the lady of elegance. A soft smile graced her lips as she raised a glass of rouge, “Welcome, Derrick and Cal. Introductions are in order, so I shall go around the table.”

Taking a sip from the glass, she set it down. “Derrick, to your left going ‘round the table we have, William Shakespeare, Vincent Van Gogh, Theo Van Gogh, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Napoleon Bonapart, Isaac Newton, Leonardo da Vinci, Dazai, Jean de Arc, and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is to your right Cal. And yes, these are the actual men of their namesakes. I specialize in bringing back people from history to help with current predicaments. Gentlemen, please enjoy dinner. I can now also take any of your questions, as promised before we left that accursed place.”

Glares ‘round the table were at both Cal and Derrick, but no one said anything to them, they all starting to chatter among themselves.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 3

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 3: There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy.

          “Have you heard of the Latin Quarter in Paris?” Her voice arrived before she did, her body trailing after her American accent.

           Tommy glanced over his shoulder to see her approaching. He was out on the deck of the ship that was taking them back to London. It was late, the trip was supposed to go overnight so most passengers were sleeping. But Tommy needed to clear his head and have a smoke out in the salty air.

           “I haven’t.”

           Kate came to stand at the railing beside him. She peered down at the dark churning water below as the ship steamed through the waves. “It’s the home of the Bohemians. Artists and rebels of the like.”

           The word was familiar to Tommy. Sometimes it was passed around to describe gypsies although it was more of a loose term. He never considered himself one. Bohemians were wild as far as he knew. He made a sound of interest but didn’t think the Parisians had any importance to him.

           “I lived in the Quarter when I first came from America. They believe in four things.” Kate turned and leaned her back against the metal railing. She wore her thick coat to ward off the harsh sea winds. “Freedom, beauty, truth, and love.”

           Tommy scoffed. The list sounded flowery and too optimistic. None of those had any bearing in the real world.

           She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t agree?”

           “I didn’t get to where I am today because of love or truth or...whatever else you said.”

           Kate stuck out her lower lip, appearing to ponder his response. “I never said I agreed with them.”

           “You’re looking to find out what I believe in. Try to see what sort of man I am.” Even as he addressed her, his blue eyes looked out over the moonlit-horizon. Watching the gray clouds drift over the English Channel.

           “You don’t let much on so a girl has to be more direct.” She shrugged and sighed. “I’ll take that as you’re going to keep those things to yourself. I just thought you might want some company out here in the cold.”

           “I like to be on my own.”

           Despite the moody response, Kate snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I think I’ve caught onto that by now. Then I’ll go back to my cabin.” She pushed away from the railing and began to walk across the deck.

           “Kate.” Tommy called after her and waved her back over. As she walked back, he reached into his coat and pulled out a flask to hand her.

           “What’s this?” She unscrewed the cap and took a tiny sip.

           “To help with the cold.” He replied.

           A smile tugged at her lips. “You want me to stay?”

           “What do you believe in?” Tommy didn’t completely confess that he wanted her to stay.

           She took a triumphant swig from the flask before handing it back to him. “I believe in the things I see in front of me. Whether they be beautiful or ugly. My mother was killed by an enemy of my father’s. But I didn’t believe the news until I saw her body being dragged out of the Charles River.”

           Tommy would give his condolences but he was sure she had heard it all before. They all had. ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ didn’t mean anything to him anymore. They were just words. “What about what people say?”

           “Well, you can see it in someone’s eyes, can’t you? Whether they’re telling you the truth or not.”

           “Sometimes.”

           “Then it’s a visual thing.”

           Tommy took a drink and offered the flask to her again but she shook her head. “You trust people then?”

           “Not at first, if ever.” Kate drummed her fingers against the railing. The black paint chipping away.

           “That’s wise. You can only trust family, blood, your kin.” He tucked the flask into the inside of his overcoat.

           “I don’t have that luxury,” She let her eyes wander to the moonbeams reflecting off crests of the waves. The frigid wind stinging her cheeks and turning them red. “I lost that a long time ago.”

           Tommy realized that she was referring to her father. The man that had landed her an ocean away from her home. “What else did you learn from these Bohemians?” He diverted the conversation to something a little lighter. Perhaps that would help her open up, give her a reason to trust him in the future.

           She smiled. “There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy. A little shy and sad of eye, but very wise was he. One magic day, he passed my way. While we spoke of many things, fools and kings, this he said to me-”

           “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.” Tommy completed the words. Words of a bewitching song the Lees and Youngs used to sing. He could hear the echo of their pure voices carrying over the meadows and weaving through the trees. They sung it in Shelta, Rocka, and English. Sometimes, Tommy heard the tune in his dreams accompanied by a hazy wood. Despite it being rooted in his childhood, the forlorn song always gave him a melancholy feeling. Hearing Kate speak the words brought back that feeling tenfold.

           “You know it?”

           “Gypsy clans we used to travel with sang it.” He replied quietly. “I never understood it.”

           Kate tilted her head to the side. “I think it’s a very clear message.”

           Tommy shook his head and flicked his cigarette into the ocean below. “Love doesn’t work like that.” He put his hands in his pockets and stalked off towards the stairs. The rest of the night, the song played over and over in his head.

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

           “Polly’s gonna have a fit,” Arthur muttered to his brother. They were on their way to Watery Lane, their new addition to the company in tow.

           Kate observed the way the Brummies interacted with Tommy and his brothers. Men tipped their caps and bid the Shelbys a good morning. Women smiled at them, wishing them well and urging their children along. Some were too scared to even look the men in the eye, keeping their heads down and quickly walking past to avoid confrontation. Kate had seen the effect before. Tommy and his company had a reputation that maintained itself for the most part. She could imagine that in due time, the need for violence would decrease. Folks around Birmingham would have enough sense to stay out of the Shelbys way. Of course, there would always be outsiders or those who thought they were strong enough to dethrone Tommy.

           It was a fairly rigid cycle. One man grew so powerful that it appeared he could never be overthrown. But all it took was the right person and the right time to make him fall to his knees. Kate wondered how far Tommy would actually get.

           “Polly doesn’t need to know where we picked her up from,” Tommy replied quietly so Kate, who was a few paces behind them wouldn’t hear. “She’s an American who was seeking a job who happens to speak a few more languages than we do. But lucky for us, she doesn’t speak our language. Works for everyone, aye?”

           Arthur grimaced but knew that Tommy wasn’t going to be talked out of his choice. The minute they left France with the girl there was no turning back.

           “Kate, I want you to come meet me aunt. Polly is the treasurer of the Shelby Company." Tommy placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder and walked her into the betting shop.

           “Bookmaking?” Kate surveyed the scene. “Are you good at it?”

           “Good at bookmaking or good at making money?” Tommy brought her over to one of the office doors, letting his hand slip from her shoulder. "Because those are two very different things."

           “Hm, I guess I’ll find out.”

           Tommy chuckled and knocked on the door. “Pol, want you to come meet someone.”

           The older woman came out and frowned when she saw the young blonde standing beside her nephew. “Another one?”

           Kate looked a bit amused but Tommy simply rolled his eyes. “This is the newest member of our staff, Kate. Kate, this is Polly.”

           “Really?” Polly scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “And when was this consulted with the board?” She questioned with a hand on her hip.

           Tommy cleared his throat. “Pol, could I speak with you for a moment?” He decided it would be better to be honest with his aunt. They could gloss over the details about finding Kate at the Moulin Rouge. Still, Polly deserved to hear about the potential information about the Americans. That way there would be no surprises. “Kate, if you would stay here.”

           The woman nodded and the two disappeared into Polly’s office for a chat. Kate took another look around, not focusing on anything too revealing. For now, the less she knew the better. Learning secrets was such a dangerous game. It was always possible to know too much. And knowing too much put a bright red target on your forehead.

           “Oi, love!”

           As Kate walked past a barred window, she heard someone whistle to her. Pausing, she glanced over to see a skeevy looking man outside of the window, pushing something through the slot below the bars. “Excuse me?” She didn’t take the greeting very kindly.

           “I said, c’mere.” The older man waved her over, his fingers were dusted with coal clearly pointing towards line of work. Kate was sure that the Shelbys relied on men like him. Poor men barely scraping by and hoping to get rich off a beast with four legs.

           “What do you want?” Kate didn’t budge.

           “What’s it fucking look like? Here to make a bet.”

           Her jaw set. “I don’t work here. I think it should be obvious enough by my accent.” She replied and went to turn away.

           “Fucking cunt.” The two words were probably meant to be quieter than they came out. The man was a coward but he made the mistake of letting Kate hear those words.

           Frowning, she turned and stalked towards the door. “I don’t know who raised you, but that’s very disrespectful.”

“Women were meant to obey, love.” The man tried to save face amongst the other men queuing up behind him. “Maybe next time you do what you’re told and no one’ll call you that.”

Furious, Kate reached into her purse and slammed a small handgun onto the counter between them. “I doubt you would say that to me again.”

           The man’s eyes widened and he took a step away from the window dividing them. “Fucking Shelbys…” He muttered and turned to make a hasty retreat.

           Only moments later, Tommy came out of Polly’s office and found Kate standing in front of the window, tucking a gun away. “You scaring away customers?” He rushed over and grabbed her by the upper arm.

           “Let go of me!” She snapped a reply and shoved the gun towards him. “It’s empty anyways, you can check. I was only making a point.”

           Tommy checked the barrel to confirm there were no bullets. He sighed and handed it back to her. “C’mon, Polly wants to talk to the both of us now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Kate loved Polly’s black cigarettes. In fact, she loved a lot about the older woman from the moment she sat down across the desk from her. It was obvious from the onset that she was a woman who accepted no bullshit even from her own family. She was clever and Kate presumed that her intelligence was tested. After all, they were women. They weren’t meant to be smart. They were just supposed to look pretty.

           Polly eyed the young blonde that was apparently the newest member of the company. “So where are you from?” She asked.

           “Boston originally,” Kate answered frankly. “I met Tommy in France.”

           “Mhm. What were you doing in France?”

           “I was a courtesan.” She replied with all honesty. There was no reason to beat around the bush. A smart woman like Polly would find out eventually so what was the use in lying?

           Tommy, however, didn’t seem too pleased that she’d dropped the news that he was planning on keeping from his aunt. “Yep…” He muttered under his breath.

           “So you were a whore?”

           “Yes, ma’am.”

           Polly laughed and shook her head in disbelief. “Well she’s honest, Tom, I’ll give you that.”

           Kate smiled slightly and shrugged. “I’ve nothing to hide.”

           She did.

           “And I’m aware that Tommy says you’ve information about Americans. Information that he wants to use for the company.” Polly had been wise to warn her nephew that he was playing with fire. There were plenty of well-established gangs in America who were powerful enough to end his career in seconds. It was too early to test his luck with them. But Tommy was adamant that they needed to learn information while they could. That way, once he was powerful enough, he could make his move.  

           “I think it could be information very useful to your company. I’m not looking for much compensation, only protection from those who would wish me harm.” Kate explained candidly.

           “You have a lot of enemies?”

           “Enemies of my father.” She clarified.

           Tommy cleared his throat and stepped back into the conversation. “Pol, she knows enough French and Italian to help us with day to day things.” He tried to make the woman a more appealing worker.

           “So what happens if she double-crosses us?” Polly asked bluntly.

           “Then I’m at the mercy of my father’s enemies. You can hand me over, no questions asked.” Kate vowed with steady eye contact.

           Polly looked mildly amused but didn’t seem to dislike the woman. “Alright, but you’ll be watched.”

           “As is expected.”

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

           Tommy was a bit surprised that the meeting went as well as it did. Perhaps it was a sign that things were meant to be. He’d have his American informant and things would go smoothly.

           “I’ve rented a flat for you down this way. Take the week to get settled. Try and write down any contacts you can in as much detail as you remember.” Tommy explained as they walked down the street together. He handed her a key to the apartment.

           “Okay, thank you.” Kate was surprised he’d already put things together. “I can imagine that you’ll have my calls listened to.” She pocketed the key.

           He chuckled. Her wit was starting to become endearing if anything. “Do you have private calls to make?”

           “Well I don’t have a family left and all my friends were whores of the Moulin Rouge so I’m guessing not.” She smirked. “I’ve no secrets, Mr. Shelby.”

           “That remains to be seen.” Everyone had secrets, it was doubtful Kate was an exception to the rule.

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

           “Anything?” Tommy returned to the betting shop after showing Kate to her apartment.

           John was sat at his brother’s desk, feet kicked up. “Well, just a few things.” He handed over a few pages of notes.

           Tommy took them and smacked his younger brother’s feet off his desk. “Go check Finn’s odds. He’s got his head in the clouds, fucked up at least twice today.” He pointed to the door.

           “Well, he’s thick, that makes sense.” John snorted and went to leave.

           “You’re both thick. Close the door behind you!” Tommy yelled after him before sifting through the notes scrawled out in John’s chicken scratch.

           American birth certificate.

           Ballet companies in Boston, New York, and Chicago. Said she studied in Italy.

           Unsure of father or mother’s names. No known siblings.

           Tommy sighed. It wasn’t much to go on. If he could somehow find her birth certificate, that would give him her father’s name to go off of. Then, he could find connections in America. There was a lot of ground to search and he wanted to make sure all his bases were covered before he put trust in this woman.

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

           Kate usually knew where to find the hub of a city. Small Heath was, well, small enough that she found the Garrison fairly quickly. The night was in full swing and she dressed in one of her simpler dresses just so she didn’t stand out. But strangers always stood out in the tight-knit neighborhood.

           Upon walking in, Kate was being eyed by anyone she passed. She ignored them and headed for the bar.

           The man tending the bar gave her a funny look. “Erm, ma’am, have you got an escort?”

           “No, I’m on my own. I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

           “I’m afraid women aren’t allowed at the bar alone.”

           Kate raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Honestly, I don’t care. Actually, forget the gin you British like it too bitter. I’d prefer rum.”

           “Miss I…”

           “S’alright. Rum’s on the house.” Tommy walked over and gave his bartender a reassuring nod. He sat down beside the blonde woman who gave him a polite smile. “You like kicking up a fuss wherever you go, that right?”

           “Well behaved women rarely make history, Mr. Shelby.” She smiled coyly. “I’m sure you didn’t get this bar by following the rules and being nice.”

           Tommy reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver shilling.“No, I won it in a coin toss.” He balanced the coin on top of his fist, resting on his flattened thumb. “Want to try it out?”

           Kate looked amused and clicked her tongue. “You like to rest a lot on bets.”

           “How I made my fortune.”

           She leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. “I once won a diamond necklace on a horse race and the title to a purebred Arabian stallion in a game of roulette.”

           “Then this game is right up your alley.” Tommy didn’t show her any hint of being impressed. For all he knew she was just blowing smoke. “You win, you’ll get free drinks here for as long as you want. I win, you give me your birth certificate.”

           The bet didn’t appear to scare the woman. Instead, the corner of her lip upturned into a playful grin. “I’m surprised you don’t know everything about me already, Tommy, I’m sure you were searching all day.” When the bartender returned with her rum, she took a large drink. “Alright, I’ll play tails. If you’re lucky I’ll give it to you tonight.”

           “Fifty-fifty chance.” Tommy shrugged and flipped the coin into the air. He caught it and smacked it onto the top of his hand to show the results.

           Heads.

           Kate laughed and shook her head. “Good show, Mr. Shelby. Alright, you can have it. Or I can tell you my father’s name. That’s obviously what you’re looking for.” She surmised.

           Tommy finished his whiskey and shook his head. “I’d like to see it for myself. You only believe things that you see, I tend to operate the same way.” He responded and slid the shilling over to her on the bartop.

           “Has anyone ever bested you before, Tommy?” Kate tucked the coin into her purse without question.

           “No.”

           “So you’ll just keep going until you meet the man you can’t beat.” She shook her head and waved for a refill.

           “Suppose so.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

           After a few drinks, Tommy followed Kate back to her new flat. The three floors were cramped just like most Small Heath housing. But it was furnished and was more than enough room for one person. Tommy had to share the same sized space with four other siblings at one point in his life.

           Kate dug through her suitcase and retrieved the official piece of parchment with a seal. She pointed at the inked words with her dark red painted nails. “Kathleen Lynch.” She read off. “Father, Ryan Lynch. Mother, Francis Lynch.”

           Tommy scanned the document for any tells that it was forged or fake.

           “I changed my last name every time I had to leave a city for whatever reason.” She explained and crossed her arms over her chest.

           “My brother got information from your past time in ballet companies. They said you studied in Italy.”

           She laughed and went to the tiny kitchen. Tommy heard her searching through a few cabinets. “I only said that so they’d give me a shot. I learned ballet from an older woman. She was in the Russian Imperial Academy before she moved to the U.S. Better teacher than anyone in Italy.”

           Tommy committed her father’s name to memory before placing the birth certificate on the coffee table. “When did you learn French and Italian?”

           Kate returned with a bottle of wine. Chardonnay, like she said she liked back when they were in France. “I learned Italian from a few friends in Boston. The few that lived around South End. I learned French when I arrived in Paris. There were enough people in the Latin Quarter who knew a few different languages. I know enough to get by. If it’s a romance language I can find my way around it.” She removed the cork and took a drink right from the bottle.

           “You learned a lot from these Bohemians.” Tommy noted and held out a hand.

           She passed the bottle of wine over. “I like to learn a little from everyone I come into contact with. Everyone has something to teach.”

           Tommy watched as she tugged off her heels and stockings to get a little more comfortable. She was certainly different from the women he was raised by or worked with. At least she held a measure of class despite how brash she could be. “Who taught you about guns?”

           Kate reached into her purse and pulled out her small gun. “My mother.” She allowed him to inspect the pistol. Unlike that morning, it was loaded. “We lived in a rough part of Boston. My father was a drunk so he couldn’t protect us even if he tried. My mother always kept a loaded Winchester. Those who knew her were wise to leave her be after she shot a robber in the foot.”

           “Is that what you learned from her then?”

           Kate nodded. “I’ve had more than enough men test me.” Her playful nature faded a little as her blue eyes relived whatever past that still haunted her.

           “Ever kill a man?”

           She snapped out of her daze and laughed bitterly. “Oh, Nature Boy, you’ll have to bet something good on a coin toss to get me to admit to anything like that.”

Permanent Tag: @sansajonsastark​ @giftofdreams​

Masterlist

[ohmsservice]

Double Os Over Ice

Q hated Christmas.

No. Scrap that. He _loathed _Christmas.

“Fancy some punch, Sir?” R stood next to him in a Santa hat looking entirely too festive.

He didn’t want punch. Punch something maybe…

His smile was strained. Despite his feelings about the season he wasn’t about to take it out on his staff. “No thank you, R. Perhaps later,” he replied, returning his attention to his laptop.

“Oh by the way,” she said, smile encroaching those pink cheeks while she reached into the back pocket of her pants suit to hold aloft a red envelope.  “This arrived for you today.”

Q looked at the thing like it might be carrying a transmutable disease. “All scanned and checked out,” she said cheerily, thrusting it under his nose.

He took it tentatively. No one ever sent him post, let alone something resembling a Christmas card.

“Any word from 007?” she enquired innocently, sipping from her mug.

“Not a peep,” said Q, “it’s been nine bloody days. If he’s not dead already, I’ll kill him myself.”

He put the card next to his laptop when he heard the lilting voice of Eve pointing in his direction. “Aren’t you going to open it then?”

R and Q turned simultaneously. “Why, Miss Moneypenny. You look very Christmassy!”

Q rolled his eyes. “Surely M has something to say about you parading around Six wearing a tinsel scarf and…” he paused squinting at her hair. “Is that mistletoe?” Eve leaned forward to kiss R on the cheek. “Does that answer your question?” Eve said, grinning smugly. R was blushing, and grinning like a loon.

“Anyway, I just came down to deliver these,” she said, popping a bag of mince pies in R’s hand to distribute to the minion mass, “and to tell you to come to the bridge at 3pm.”

Q frowned. “Can’t. Busy.”

“Must. No argument. M’s given me carte blanche to boss you all around today.”

“Really?” R said, eyes bright and enthusiastic. “What’s the plan?”

“Just because it’s Christmas Eve…” Q grumbled.

“Precisely!” said Eve, with a brisk clap of her hands. “So hop to it, Q! No excuses. See you at 3pm!” she said with a curt tease, turning away with a twirl of her fingers in parting.

“You should just ask her out you know,” Q said quietly to R.

R sighed. “Way out of my league, Sir” she replied longingly. “Can’t wait to see what’s she’s got planned though!”

Q could. Q could wait until hell froze over. As if on cue and as though she knew he was thinking how to get out of the gathering, a message popped up on his screen.

Don’t be late Q. Remember. I’m an agent and M’s right hand.

A promise and a threat all rolled into one. Wonderful.

When 2pm rolled around, Q, who had been glancing with growing trepidation at the red envelope finally caved.

It was indeed a Christmas card, with a London postmark.

He took it out and stared. It had a photo of a kitten on the front, wearing a Santa hat looking like an anchovy wouldn’t melt in its mouth. The words “MEOWY CHRISTMAS!” printed along the bottom.

He opened it.

It turns out that Bond was capable of giving Q a headache even when not in the nearby vicinity.

“Equipment all present and accounted for. If you want it back, see you at the bridge by Six at 3pm.

Hugs and near misses, 007.”

Q calmly closed the card, feeling anything but. Oh he’d be at the bridge alright. The absolute nerve of the man…

The cold snap in London was hard and vicious enough to convince Q that climate change may be closer than even the experts thought. He wasn’t particularly fond of the cold, his thin layer of flesh doing little to protect his organs from its chilling bite. The inlet of water next to the river, because it was not especially deep, was completely frozen over. As Q and R made their way there at the designated time, Q glanced occasionally at his number one. “You know what’s going on, don’t you,” he stated. Her fake gasp told him all he needed to know.

“Really Sir! As if I’d keep secrets from you!”

“You may work with spies, R. Doesn’t mean you can lie like one,” he grumbled.

She was still beaming when they rounded the base of the bridge and Q was brought up short.

“Q!” shouted Eve, gesturing him over to where she stood amongst the Double Os who seemed to turn as one body to watch the approaching boffin. “So glad you could tear yourself away!” He squared his shoulders, determined not to buckle under the scrutiny of the intimidating bastards.

She thrust a starting pistol into his hands. “Would you mind doing the honours?” she asked, eyes twinkling. She made her way to the line of agents who’d in the intervening seconds organised themselves in a line standing on the edge of the inlet. She took position next to 004, Felicity Honour. 005 was there. And of course, 006 and 007. He just caught the end of whatever Trevelyan and Bond (the wanker) had been arguing about. As per usual.

“….you seem to forget, moy malen'kiy angliyskiy keks. I am Russian. I was born in this climate. It’s my home. You don’t stand a chance.”

“We’ll see about that won’t we, Alec? Scotland isn’t exactly known for its balmy temperatures either,” retorted Bond.

“Focus boys! Three circuits of the pond and no cutting corners!” barked Eve. She looked over at Q who was standing looking dumbly at the pistol. “When you’re ready, Q!” she called out.

R nudged him. Oh well, he shrugged inwardly. He was outnumbered anyway. May as well go with the flow. He held the gun aloft and pulled the trigger.

“And may the best agent win!” shouted R above the cheers of the small gathering of MI6 staff who had turned up.

“What exactly is it that they do win?” enquired Q, secretly hoping Bond would fall flat on his arse and embarrass himself.

“Oh,” said R airily, watching as Eve and Honour tried to trip each other up. “Just dinner this evening with a Q-Branch staffer of their choice.”

Q looked mortified. “What the—?!” he spluttered. “I never agreed to that!”

R, ever the plainspeakinug associate, didn’t hesitate. “Of course you didn’t but we all voted on it and I voted for you by proxy.” He was about to argue when R put a finger against her lips and he found himself silencing.

“Those singles amongst us have sod all of a social life as it is. Time to let our hair down. Sir. Even if it’s just for one night. And it is Christmas after all.”

Q sighed. Well, he may be a miserable bastard at this time of year, but he did promise himself he wouldn’t take it out on the minions. He turned to watch the agents on their second lap of the pond. Eve, light and graceful on her feet marginally held the lead.

He’d just have to make sure that whichever agent did take the prize, didn’t abuse the privilege.

Because it’s Christmas, and miracles do sometimes happen, Alec beat all the other agents to the punch, but Eve, the host with the most, always found a way to ease the pain of an arsekicking by a fellow agent of their prideful colleagues. The small group of panting, sweaty Double Os were standing across the pond, about 15 feet away from the group of onlookers. Alec was disagreeing with Eve about something, while pointing towards what appeared to be Q’s position. Bond was standing with his arms folded, looking smug while Eve was evidently putting Alec in his place. And it was then, when Alec raised his tone, Q and R caught onto the nature of the conversation.

“….. said any _any _Q Branch staffer, Moneypenny.”

“You’ll have to ask him yourself then,” she said primly, glancing Q’s  way to give him fair warning of what was to come. “If he’s not comfortable, don’t be a bully about it, Trevelyan.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Q mumbled under his breath. Of course, there were more than 40 staff under his care, but 006 wouldn’t settle for anything less than the top dog.

“Time nip this in the bud,” he stated firmly before moving to march across the pond towards the group.

Bond had fixed his steel blue, hawk-eyed gaze on Q while Moneypenny and 006 continued to banter. Q was halfway across before he realised that perhaps the actual centre of the pond might not be the safest place to be. After all, the agents had skated their little race around the outer edge, where the ice was considerably thicker.

And Bond, ever vigilant, was moving towards the Quartermaster before the sheet of ice beneath his feet had even begun to crack.

It wasn’t especially deep water, 8-10 feet at most. But was enough to immerse Q completely. The shock of the cold hit his system so hard that his body went into a moment of paralysis that felt like an eternity. He was only vaguely aware of the muffled splash above him and strong hands grabbing his waist to shove him upwards. Numb to the core as he was, he barely felt another pair of hands - Trevelyan’s - reach into the water to take him by his armpits and drag him up to the surface and onto the ice.

The next thing he hears is Eve barking orders about Medical and hot showers and bugger it all to hell if he hasn’t gone and lost his glasses to the murky depths. Felicity hauls him to his feet and Q finds himself anchored between the solid forms of herself and 006, shuffling him quickly across the ice back towards the looming safety of River House. R is hot on his heels, he barely feels her hand on the small of his back through his sodding wet parka and jumper but it’s there, doing what she can to reassure.

The cold feels as though it is gripping his very heart and consciousness is slipping away. The last thing he senses once they hit terra firma is the sensation of being swept into 006’s arms and hears himself mumbling in quiet protest. Good God, he thought to himself as logical thought departed from his mind, I am never going to live this down…

The cocoon of warmth in which he work up some hours later felt like heaven. The memory of the cold biting his bones fading in the cosiness of the blankets. He felt something pop into his ear and was about to bat it away when he realised it was Dr Jones, Head of Medical, taking his temperature.

_BEEP! _went the device. “All looks fine. Core body temperature back to normal,” he said with calm reassurance.

“Lost my glasses,” Q heard himself mumble. It was only a few seconds later, when he felt a gun-calloused palm against his own and the solid feel of his frames being pressed into his palm. Q slid up the pillow and put on them on, clearing the haze to reveal 006 and 007 standing on with side of the bed, watching him. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt suddenly a little too hot.

“You rescued them,” he whispered. Bond shrugged. “Eve made me. Said you’re blind without them.”

“Speaking of Eve…” Q asked, looking around. “She’s gone to yours to grab some fresh clothes,” Bond stated. “Can’t have you parading about Six in a terry robe now can we? Half the staff might get the crazy idea that it’s Christmas…”

Q allowed himself a small laugh, more relief at the warmth than anything else. “Thank you. For saving my glasses. And pulling me out of a watery grave.”

“I was just quicker of the mark,” Bond said casually, looking at Trevelyan would kept his peace during the exchange. “If Alec hadn’t been so busy arguing with Eve about winning your company for dinner this evening…”

Q - feeling suddenly emboldened by his near brush with death (OK. Maybe a tad overdramatic but still…) - heard, not without a slight sense of disbelief, the next words to tumble from his mouth.

“Well. Technically 006 did win the race,” Q said thoughtfully. “Though you did ruin a nice suit in the process of saving my sorry arse, 007.” He paused. “Ergo, logic demands that I take you both out to dinner.”

The look the agents exchanged was borderline shocked but quickly recovered. “I think we’d both like that very much, Quartermaster…”

This may in fact be the understatement of the year, but dinner, was a revelation.

Between the strength of their mutual respect - and Q would even go so far to say love - combined with the needling banter he observed throughout the evening, he was left in absolutely no doubt that these men could survive anything in the world of espionage that life could throw at them.

Bond was on his third martini and Trevelyan on his fifth vodka when they redirected their attention towards Q, who up until that point had been more than happy to watch and enjoy their playful interactions. Now he found himself once again the object of a focus that would have been flattering for anyone else, but unnerving for him.

“I think it’s time we heard a few stories from the life and times of our esteemed Quartermaster,” said Bond, leaning back in his chair and unbuttoning his jacket.

Q fingered the stem of his wine glass, which Bond recognised as a slight tick. He had observed the same treatment of his favourite mug when Q was talking to M in person or via comms.

He cleared his throat. “Oh my life experience pales in comparison I’m afraid,” he said with a smile. “Careening down the sides of mountains, jumping from planes and rescuing damsels in distress is a far cry from what I can offer.”

And with those words, Alec saw his opening and made his move.

“You underestimate yourself Quartermaster. Personally, I find you quite fascinating.”

Q chastised himself inwardly at the rising, betraying blush. “I find myself quite fulfilled with my work and my cats.”

“You know, I think he’s attempting to feign dull to try and throw us off, Alec,” Bond’s smile was blatantly sensual. “Would you like to know what we see when we look at you, Q?”

Q tilted his head in curiosity. Such a statement could only mean that he’d been under observation for some time. And so engrossed had he been in making his mark on MI6, had completely failed to notice. A Quartermaster’s mind is put together differently from that of an agent after all. He could hardly be blamed for missing the signs.

“I’m not sure—“ Q began, shifting in his seat.

Bond ignored him, Alec giving his fellow agent an encouraging nod before he continued.

“People like Alec and I? We don’t have many people whom we can trust in the world. For obvious reasons. It’s come as second nature to trust each other, having been through so much together in the field. But aside from M, there is no one within the walls of MI6 than we trust more than you.”

“When I watch you, I see isolation. A safe space you have created around yourself that no-one is allowed to invade. You fear intimacy as much as you crave it.”

“We want to share the trust we have in each other with you, Q. Let us in.”

And Q? Q was tempted. There was no denying his interest and attraction to the two men… But… he knew. Understood himself too well.

“No.” Q stood and straightened his jacket. “Thank you for a lovely evening, agents, but I think here’s where we call it a night.”

He departed. And Bond or Trevelyan didn’t try and stop him.

“Worth a shot, James,” said Alec as they both watched their retreating Quartermaster’s back.

“Never say never, Alec,” said Bond. He wouldn’t be the agent he was today if he turned away from a challenge.

And he always did so enjoy a challenge.

Three Months Later…

“Vy absolyutnyy ublyudok, Alec!”

James was back from a mission in Warsaw not twelve hours, and despite its harrowing circumstances, exhaustion and a deep, dreamless state had won him over. He’d fallen in a comatose state, alone in bed, not long after arriving at Q’s flat and woken up ten minutes ago, to find himself tied firmly to the bed frame. Not only tied by knots that he had himself taught Alec, but tied with the stockings Q had bought him for his own birthday.

Across the room, Alec had Q pinned to the wall, large hands clasping a slender waist, one leg between Q’s while he was currently subjecting Q’s collarbone and chest to a savage onslaught like that to which a lion would the rapidly diminishing carcass of a wildebeest.

Now fully awake (in more ways than one), the effects of the mission were kicking back in his mind and he was desperate for some - ANY kind of release to soothe the comedown. Bond closed his eyes against the sight of the two of them locked against each other, opening them again at the sound of Q’s breathy, shuddering moan. His head was pitched to the side, held in place now by Alec’s hand buried in his hair while he ravaged his throat.

Alec turned his head towards James then, shameless grin plastered across his face, releasing Q and giving him a moment to catch his breath. “Really James,” he tutted, “has the mission taken so much out of you you’re not even going to try?”

And that was what did it. James wrenched his wrist hard, bruising his flesh and causing a sharp rush of pain but tearing the stocking in the process. Alec moved swiftly towards the bed before James could free his other hand. He had him pinned beneath the length of his body though wasn’t going down without a fight bucking angrily against him. “Get the fuck off me, Alec,” he growled.

“Ask nicely now James,” Alec said teasingly, wrestling the exhausted agent, just as another breathless moan sounded behind them causing them both to pause in their battle for dominance. Alec rolled off Bond and both men took in the sight of Q, completely focussed on his own pleasure, one hand caressing his scalp while the other moved with a beautiful, steady rhythm against his cock. His eyes closed, head thrown carelessly back against the wall, both agents just watched for a few seconds more before Bond yanked his other hand free and rolled off the bed. In a few quick strides he was in front of Q, grabbing his occupied hand and dragging him towards the bed. Alec had made space and kept to the side while Bond, completely aroused, climbed on top of Q and with fuelled determination and purpose ground their hips together hard and fast.

Their climax was quick and dirty and beyond satisfying. Bond glanced to the side, his smug comrade, looking very pleased with himself. Bond pulled Alec into a kiss while a sated Q watched.

“Beautiful, fucking Cossak,” grumbled Bond, falling to Q’s side and pulling the boffin close against him, burying his face in his hair, content and soothed.

Missions would drain him dry, leave him cold and empty, but this.

This.

Again and again, Q and Alec pulled him from the cold, murky depths and reminded him to simply breathe.

[becausenoothernameisavailable]

Five weddings and a funeral.

Wedding 1: Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan cordially invite you to the wedding of their son David to Katherine Rivers.

“Stop checking out Julian.” Derek hissed at his best friend sitting next to him. “I am not.” mumbled Logan, “I just don’t understand how he ended up becoming a part of the bridal party amongst the sea of Windsors.”

“He and Katherine are friends.” Shrugged Derek. “Something about working in the same movie and the common Dalton connection. Now pay attention somebody’s aunt is giving us the side-eye.” and with a quick nod to the lady in question, they turned back to watch Katherine float by on her father’s arm.

*

“Don’t they make a happy couple?” Julian exclaimed as he sipped his glass of Champaign. “I guess.” Logan remarked staring at his other best friend as he stood next to him taking in the wedding scene, a slight smile on his face when Derek walked up to them. “Quick, I need your keys, Casey is not feeling well, so I’m going to drop her home.”

“And how do I get home again.” Asked Logan handing him his car keys.

“I don’t know, have Jules drop you home.”

*

Logan doesn’t know how exactly he got here in the first place, not here specifically in the limo but here as in having the boy he had always liked kissing the hell out of him.

“Jules” Logan breathed out as Julian kissed a line down his jaw, “Wait, just let me get my tie out.”

“Shush.” Julian whispered, “We do not want the limo driver to get suspicious.”

“Wait. Wait.” Logan said as he shucked out his jacket and loosened his tie. “Are we doing this? Are you sure?”

“Yes.” whimpered Julian, his hand massaging the hardness in his pants, “Faster, don’t make me wait.”

“Jules.” Logan tried again when he had unbuttoned his shirt.

“Come here.” Julian said and pulled Logan on him “This needs to be fast and quick.”

Logan gasped at the full contact with Julian, the entire length of him, sprawled out and warm beneath him, together from chest to thigh. “What are you looking at?” Julian grinned and kissed Logan fully on the mouth, grinding his dick into Logan’s thigh.

After that everything became a mess in Logan’s mind – soft lips, hot mouth, his fingers around Julian’s dick, hot, hard and heavy and Julian moaning in his ear as he came.

“You look amazing.” Logan whispered as the car came to stop in front of his house and Julian smiled blissfully at him and kissed him. “We should get a room next time.”

.....

Three months later.

Wedding 2: Together with their families, Derek and Casey invite you to their wedding.

“For God sake’s he said he would be here soon.” Derek hissed as he turned to look at his best man. “Stop fidgeting. Don’t make me regret choosing you as my best man.” as an indignant Logan whined “He’s late” and “Hey! I won that fair and square.”

At that minute the doors burst open and in walked Julian Larson who declared to all who had turned their heads at the sound of the doors opening. “Sorry I am late, traffic.” and the assembled crowd tittered and with a nod to Derek and Logan, he made his way down the aisle to a seat in the front.

“If you screw up my wedding just because you’re pining for Jules, I am going to kill you.”

*

“- and if you join me now in raising your glass, I would like to toast the married couple. To Derek and Casey.” and Logan swallowed his glass of Champaign as the happy couple kissed.

“What were you and Derek discussing, earlier today.” Julian whispered as the married couple had their first dance. “Oh, nothing.” Logan smiled, “That was quite an entrance.” and with a quick look around he kissed Julian on the cheek, bolstered by the fact that Julian was standing very, very close to him.

“Check my right pocket.” Julian smiled as Derek and Casey danced passed them and Logan put his hands in, coping a quick feel and came out with hotel rooms keys.

“I 'll be waiting for you.” Julian smirked and walked away.

*

“Fuck me.” Julian breathed out and pulled Logan on to him when he entered into the room, “I am ready.”  

“We really need to talk about this.” Logan pressed kisses down Julian’s jaw. “Later.” whispered Julian and reached down to palm Logan’s dick.

*

Julian didn’t say anything as he cleaned the both of them up, crawling back into bed, into Logan’s arms and Logan didn’t know what to say to a best friend with whom you’ve slept with twice. He just laid there watching Julian rest; eyes closed, eyelashes gently fanned out. He caressed Julian’s cheek and pulled Julian closed to him, kissing him on the nose. “So, Reed and Shane’s in two weeks.” and Julian burst out laughing.

.....

Two weeks later.

Wedding 3: Reed and Shane invite you to celebrate their wedding day.

“So what’s the deal with you and Jules?” Derek said as he watched Logan watch Julian as he danced with Casey. “Don’t think I didn’t see the two of you sneak off together. What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” groaned Logan, “It’s frustrating. Every time I try to talk to him he ends up distracting me. He’s Jules, I care about him. I have always cared about him.”

“So try again, properly this time. Talk to him.” Derek said and Logan nodded.

*

“There are no hotel rooms available.” Julian whispered as he and Logan danced across the grounds. “I think they’re onto us.” mumbled Logan and Julian turned to look at him. ”What do you mean.”

“Nothing, nothing.” Logan said and Julian closer to him. “You look amazing tonight. Better than the grooms themselves.

“What can I say.” preened Julian and Logan kissed him on the check.

“I really had hoped we could get a room.” Julian pouted and rest his cheek against Logan’s shoulder.

*

“What are you doing?” Julian asked when he noticed Logan surreptitiously lifting the tablecloth.

“We don’t actually need a hotel room you, know. Now shush, I don’t want to be noticed.” Logan said and disappeared under the table.

“Lo, what are you doing down there.” hissed Julian which turned into a moan when he felt Logan pull at his zipper.

“This.” replied Logan as he kissed Julian’s dick over his brief.  He peeled back Julian’s underwear and kissed the tip of his dick, taking it in his mouth. ” Fuck my mouth.” he whispered “and be very, very quiet.”

.....

Two months later.

Wedding 4: Please join us to celebrate the wedding of Spencer Willis to Merril Portman.

“Ok, what’s up with all our friends getting married?” Julian asked as they watched Merril walk down the aisle. “I don’t know.” smiled Logan “but thank god for weddings, and yes in case you’re wondering I got us a room.” Julian kissed him on the lips “Then, what are we even waiting for.”

*

“Okay, what is up with the two of them?” Blaine asked Derek. “They were noticeably missing during your wedding reception, were smitten with each during Shane and Reed’s, and now they didn’t even stay. “

“I don’t actually know.” Derek sighed.  They were soon joined by Casey and Kurt. “They were awfully close when we met them for dinner yesterday,” remarked Casey “Logan was all over Julian and was particularly happy about it and Julian looked like the cat that ate the canary.

“Has Logan told Julian how much he means to him then?” Kurt asked

“Well he definitely has taken my advice.” Derek said “I think this all started during David’s wedding. They were together at ours and every wedding since that.”

“So, whose wedding is next then?” asked Casey as she took a sip of Champaign.

”Ours.” replied Blaine as he kissed Kurt’s hand, “In four months’ time.”

.....

Four months later.

Wedding 5: Mr. and Mrs. Hummel request the honour of your presence at the wedding of their son Kurt Hummel to Blaine Anderson.

“So, are we planning to show our faces today?” Logan asked as he kissed Julian’s bare shoulder and laid down next to him.

”You really want to attend your ex’s wedding that much” Julian said as he pulled Logan close to him to lay his head on his shoulder.

“Not really.” Logan said dropping a kiss in Julian’s hair, “but I think they’re suspicious. Derek at least.”

“What does that mean, you’ve mentioned it before.”  Julian murmured he placed on kisses on Logan’s shoulder, jaw, fingers.

“That I like you.” Logan said quietly watching Julian but Julian continued to kiss his jaw, working his tongue slowly, sucking his skin. “Continue, I’m listening.”

Logan smiled, relieved. “I have liked you for a really long time now.”

“Since when.” Julian asked laving the spot, alternating between placing small kisses, hand moving freely across Logan’s body.

“Since before, way before.” Logan stuttered as Julian’s hand found his dick.

“Good, I like you too.” Julian replied “and now that everything is sorted, how about round two?. You certainly seem to be up for it.”

.....

One month later.

Funeral 1: The funeral of Logan’s pining for Jules.

“Is this supposed to be your idea of a joke?” Logan frowned at Derek, “and you have invited people to this.”

“This is a solemn moment, the end of your singledom, the taming of the beast.” Derek said putting the finishing touches around the room including a banner. “No, don’t yell, your boyfriend was down with the idea. He even helped.”  

“All I did was get him out of the house and supply some photos.” Julian said as he arranged his hair in the mirror.

“Jules.”

“You love me I know, go open the door, our guests have arrived.”

“This is so not funny.” Logan grumbled on his way to the door.

“This really is.” Julian laughed as Logan open door to reveal their assortment of friends.

“Hi, everyone please leave the wreaths by the door and don’t mind Logan, he’s just missing his singledom.”

[illyrianwingspans]

Do Not Go Gentle: Hopeless

Link to song: Hopeless by Halsey

Synopsis: Some fresh air and a little bad news for Feyre and Rhys. 

TW: Mentions of dark thoughts and abuse. Please read with caution. 

Ao3 Link

Chapter 19: Hopeless

“Okay, so this button here is my calendar. It’s all colour coded by level of importance so I ignore the stuff that doesn’t matter and prioritize the things that need my absolute focus.”

Rhys had been teaching me little things here and there about the tasks I’d need to do while working for him, despite the fact that I hadn’t agreed to anything yet. He was meticulous about everything, organized his life to the very minute.

“So what’s this box here in green?”

“That’s Cassian’s appointment with me today. He says it’s to look over possible changes security codes in the building, but I know it’s just to whine to me about his salary being lower than Amren’s.”

“Okay, and this one in red over here?” It read: Extremely important lunch with extremely important person.

“That’s our lunch date tomorrow, darling. Can’t quite miss that, can I?”

I slapped Rhys on the arm and he chuckled before setting his laptop down and heading for the kitchen. He came back with two mugs of coffee, and I thanked him quietly before he sat down next to me.

“I wasn’t told of this lunch date. What’s the extremely important matter we’re discussing?”

Rhys smirked. “Well, we have a few items to go over for your contract, and I need your signature for official documents and the such. Are you ready to sign on at Night Industries?”

I took a sip of my coffee, glancing up at him over the rim. “I guess you’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Tease,” he said before rifling around some more on his laptop. “Have you got a CV prepared?”

“I’d love to give you that, but it’s pretty blank. And my references wouldn’t quite answer if you called.” Andras, for obvious reasons, and the CEO of Spring Corp, for other obvious reasons.

Rhys shook his head. “Sorry, that was a stupid question. Nonetheless, I am looking very forward to it.”

I sighed and lounged across the couch, the very same one that Cassian sat upon last night before flipping the table during our absolutely failed attempt at playing a peaceful game of Monopoly. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than asking me that question over and over again?” Rhys replied as his fingers tapped away at his keyboard.

“Well, there are a few movies on Netflix that seem to be calling my name, but I’m sick of television.”

Rhys jammed his finger on the enter button, and the sound of an email sending filled the room before he closed the top of his laptop. “Let’s go for a walk, then.”

I raised my eyebrows. “A walk?”

“Fresh air. It’ll do us both some good.”

I looked down at the clothes I was wearing, old sweatpants and a hoodie. Rhys only rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen you in worse, darling. Come on. Let’s go.”

***

The park in Velaris was still gleaming with rain from yesterday’s showers. Gravel crunched beneath the sneakers I wore, still muddy and damp. Rhys didn’t seem to mind as his gaze wandered to the river flowing beside us. In the park, others had gathered despite the overcast clouds threatening to unleash their wrath upon us at any moment. We’d driven over and parked the car a few miles back, and walked in silence amongst the sounds of city life surrounding us.

“Do you come here often?” I asked quietly. We’d settled on a bench looking out upon the water before us. Dog-walkers and joggers passed by, just another blip in their daily routine, seemingly so mundane in such an overturned world. Well, overturned for me, completely and perfectly normal for everyone else, though I knew it wasn’t fair to make that assumption.

Pain wasn’t exclusive to one person. Suffering was a whore, and fucked over anybody in its wake.

Rhys said, “I used to.”

“Before?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

He blew out a breath and shrugged. “Lots of shit happened. I can’t even keep track of it all anymore.”

To keep our minds on something lighter, something better, I asked him, “I know you say your employees are your family, but what about the rest of it? Parents? Siblings?”

He chuckled at the first bit and ran a hand through his hair as the wind picked up and whipped at our clothes. “My friends,” he corrected, “are family first, employees second.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “My parents and I had a house on the outskirts of the city, but my mom wanted us to live in Illyria. Her and I moved there after she got pregnant with my little sister, to my dad’s utmost frustration. He finally came to join us when my sister was born, and we lived there all together for a little while until he had to go back. My mom refused to join him.”

“They didn’t get along, I’m guessing?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t the best of pairings, to say the least, but they understood each other. And underneath all of it, they loved each other.”

It made me think of my own parents. How everything had gone to shit so quickly after my mother got sick, how my dad fell apart in the aftermath. I didn’t remember her, my mother—but I remembered the fallout after her, of which I still sheltered myself from all these years later.

“Where are they now?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “About fifteen blocks away from my house.”

“They live so close by and you’ve never mentioned them?”

“I visit them every week. At the cemetery.”

Oh. Oh, gods. I was a horrible person. “I’m so sorry, Rhys.”

He shrugged. “House fire.” A few seconds later, he added, “A freak accident.”

We were quiet for a few moments longer, and I said, “My mother died, too. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.” Talking about death hurt the most, because what else were we supposed to say to each other? How do any words even attempt to fix the burning voids within us stemmed from their absences? What truly stung, though, was that my mother never even held a true space within me—I did not know her, I only knew the aftermath of her disappearance.

Rhys stood from the bench and wandered over to the river’s edge. He leaned over the ledge of the metal railing, staring down at the thrumming waters, below, and sighed. I took up spot next to him, our biceps pressed together, and the warmth of his touch grounded me despite the cold around us.

I stared at him as he stared out across what seemed like a vast, endless being soaring in front of us. And the lingering pain on his face, clouded with memories unknown to me, was enough for me to say, “You know, this goes both ways. I can talk to you, and you can talk to me. Whenever you need.”

Rhys dragged his gaze away from the Sidra and wondered, “A thought for a thought?”

“What do you mean?”

“I say something on my mind, then you say something. Like a trade.”

My nails dug into the skin around my thumb, a nervous habit I’d never seemed to drop, and winced at the tearing skin. “Okay.”

“I’m thinking that sometimes I want to wipe this whole city off the map so I can start over, and buy us a little more time. I’m thinking that I was an idiot to ever let Hybern sink its teeth into my company and fool us all. I’m thinking that for the rest of my life I’ll be trapped under their thumb, that I’ll be trapped under that bitch and all the havoc she caused my people and I.”

I could only focus on that slip of information. Trapped under who? What woman could’ve caused the agony shining on Rhys’s face, so blindingly painful that he winced at her very memory?

At the question on my face, Rhys only added, “There’s a bit more to the story about my history with Hybern.” Looking upon the peaceful scenery before us, it seemed like a shame to poison it with our misery-soaked words. “It’s for another time and place.”

Maybe it was because of the jagged pieces of truth that he offered me, but it filled with a sort of courage and recklessness that had me quietly murmuring, “I’m thinking that I must have been a fool in love to allow myself to be shown so little of Spring Corporations. I’m thinking there’s a great deal of information and secrets and shady bullshit I wasn’t allowed to see or hear about and maybe I would’ve lived in ignorance for the rest of my life like some fucking pet.

“I’m thinking,” the words choked up in my chest as Rhys’s gaze softened, full of concern and empathy, “that I was a lonely, helpless person, and I fell in love with the first person that showed me a shred of kindness. Of safety. I think he knew that—maybe not entirely, or actively, but he wanted to be that person for someone. A protector, a guardian. And that may have worked for the person I was before. But maybe not for the person I became. Not after…” I couldn’t breathe those words yet. Not after I shot those two people, not after life had gloriously and marvellously fucked me over completely. And though the words were selfish and hateful despite everything he’d done for me, they were a beam of truth I’d kept far, far down in my withered soul, tucked away even from myself.

I’d been gone merely two weeks, and I was already shitting all over his name. I was no better than him, no better than the angered man who’d done everything to keep me subdued.

“That was five. I owe you two thoughts.”

“Keep them. For another time.”

We both looked at each other for a moment, wind off the briny waters ruffling our hair. Rhys murmured, “Suriel used to do this thing at our appointments. Rate my mood on a scale.”

I nodded my head. “I did that, too.”

“I feel like a solid seven, today,” Rhys said. “You?”

I debated it for a few brief seconds, then admitted, “Four.” Better than yesterday, but still not enough.

“Okay.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, and it felt so natural I didn’t even blink at the gesture. “How about I cook some Mac and cheese for dinner tonight. Would that bring you up to a five?”

I only grinned, the slightest curve upwards of my lips, and said, “Four point three.”

***

We sat before the TV, bowls of macaroni and cheese in hand, watching the news. Nothing really exciting—preparations for the upcoming city summit, a shooting in the east end of town, a puppy parade for the local shelter. Rhys told me about the dog he had when he was younger, a loyal German Shepard he adored—but ultimately had to give away after it literally chewed through a wall. It took all of Rhys’s strength and will to keep his father from shooting it.

When we were done, Rhys and I brought our bowls to the kitchen, and I filled the sink up with soapy water to wash the dishes. He did so much for me, carved too much time out of his day for my sake, that it was the least I could do. Despite my protests, he still stood beside me to wipe them dry, our elbows grazing whenever I passed him another rinsed plate. The townhouse was quiet, peaceful with only the soft hum of the TV behind us, that I wasn’t even surprised when it blared Breaking News and ruined the moment.

Rhys shut off the sink and I wiped my hands on a nearby dishtowel before we quickly meandered back to the couch before in the family room. The news reporter was saying words, words that didn’t even make sense—

Then he was there, right there on the screen, as though he fucking knew I was watching him.

Everything else around me disappeared as the CEO of Spring Corporations said, “Thank you for joining me today. Unfortunately, the information I have to share isn’t good, and it breaks my heart to announce that my fiancee Feyre Archeron has gone missing.”

Distantly, I knew that Rhys already had his phone out, probably dialling someone from the Inner Circle to find out what the fuck was going on. I couldn’t listen, couldn’t even think about it as he was standing there at the podium of Prythian Police Station. Cameras flickered and flashed as he paused, then said, “Her location is currently unknown, and she was last seen at Spring Corporations, a safe location she was told to stay until after the scene of our apartment had been cleared, the day of the second attempt on her life. The security footage we gathered shows her being carried out by Cassian Noctis, a current employee at Night Industries.”

“Shit,” Rhys was muttering beside me, “shit, shit, shit—”

“He is currently in custody. His apartment was searched, but Feyre still remains missing. If anyone has any information upon her whereabouts, I beg you to please call the info line on your screen.”

I didn’t think I was breathing. How had they gotten Cassian? When? How come we weren’t called the second it happened?

“Feyre, if you’re seeing this by some miracle,” his voice was thick with tears, and I nearly vomited all over the hardwood floors as his eyes practically bored into mine. “I love you. I swear to all the Gods I will do everything I can to get you back.”

My fingers, with a mind of their own, reached over to the remote and turned the screen off.

“We need to go. Right now.”

Rhys was saying something else, so many things, but I was spinning.

It’s like I could still feel him. I could still feel each and every claw of his control, of his anger—they pinned me to where I sat.

Even from afar, Tamlin held my head under the water. I was drowning. I was screaming for air, but he shoved me into the deep end and let the waves crash over me.

“Feyre, we need to leave.” I didn’t realize he was kneeling before me, his eyes filled with desperation. I didn’t feel Rhys’s arms around me as he lead me to the townhouse entrance. As he fed my arms through the jacket and slipped a scarf around my neck, sunglasses in my pocket. We got into his SUV and he careened it down the street and into the city.

But I was drowning. Consumed by the water. Consumed by the flames in my mind, the towering inferno trapping me. The flames or the fall? Those words played in my mind over and over again as streets passed by in my peripheral vision.

“I’ll go back.” The words escaped my lips before I could stop them, emotion creeping up my chest and searing my throat as my vision blurred. “I’ll go back, Rhys. It’s okay.”

“Don’t take his bait. Let us figure this shit out before making any decisions.”

“He’s never gonna stop,” I breathed. “I can’t keep letting him destroy you guys. I won’t.”

“It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than this to destroy us, Feyre.” He tore into the parking lot and jammed on the breaks when he slid into a space. “Put your glasses on, cover your face with your scarf, and hood up.”

I did as he said automatically, and he came around to my side of the car, equally concealed as me, before we sped to the front doors of the PPS. There were press and cameras everywhere, but I kept my head down, trying to follow Rhys’s tugs on my arm forward and into the station. The yells and raucous was sealed off as soon as the doors shut behind us.

Mor was instantly there, despite the cops’ protests, and Rhys snarled, “Why the hell wasn’t I called?”

“You were called as soon as we knew, Rhys, which was about ten fucking minutes ago. They’ve had him all afternoon without telling us. We thought he left early.”

“Where’s Azriel?”

“On his way. Cassian hasn’t said anything. Amren’s finally in there with him, but we’re not saying a fucking thing.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong, Mor. They’ve got nothing on us.”

“They do until we say otherwise. If we want to clear ourselves, we need to tell them everything.”

Everything. I knew what everything meant. Everything was every bruise, every scar and every cut on my body at his mercy. Everything meant all of me, surrendering my shrivelled soul.

After all they’d done for me, I couldn’t think of anything else to help them. Show them what he did to me, or waltz right back into my prison in chains for the rest of my life.

Mor and Rhys were arguing, and didn’t realize when I stepped up to the counter, peeling off my hood, my glasses, and said, “My name is Feyre Archeron and I’d like to speak with whoever’s in charge of this case. Alone.”

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption Error: “The Long Weekend, Part II”

Summary: Elliot and Y/N’s friendship continues to deepen as they spend time together. Even though the aftermath of what happened in the server room isn’t something either of them can forget as Tuesday morning draws closer, Y/N can’t help but wonder if being in a relationship with Elliot is what she really wants.

Summary/Mood Board,  “The Server Room, Part I”,  “The Server Room, Part II”  “The Long Weekend, Part I”

Word Count: 5900

Tags: @sherlollydramoine  @rami-malek-trash  @teamwolf2411  @limabein   @lovie-rami  @txmel  @hopplessdreamer  @ouatlovr  @backoftheroomandnotbelonging  @alottanothing  @moon-stars-soul  

If you want added, let me know.

Warnings: Short talk of depression, anxiety

As my body woke up, I stretched and sought the cool side of my pillow, pushing my tangled mess of hair up and off my neck. My mind followed, sloughing off sleep as I remembered Elliot was in my bed; a smile crept across my face as I wondered at the absurdity of it all, at the idea that something so good could come from something so bad.

Well, he was here,I thought as I rolled over and was met with nothing but a rumpled pillowcase that still smelled like him. I pulled the pillow to me, hugging it and breathing in his sweet scent.  

I glanced toward the bathroom, but the door hung open and there was no movement inside the dark room. Then, I heard the whistling of the teapot in the kitchen and smiled again as I realized Elliot felt comfortable enough in my apartment to use the kitchen.

As I listened, I heard more noise coming from the kitchen and although curiosity was pulling at me, I had no desire to actually get up.

I saw my phone on the nightstand on Elliot’s side and I reached for my it, pausing and instead grabbing the bottle of water that was sitting next to it.

God, I was thirsty.

Something thunked in the kitchen, and I paused, water sloshing against my lips. I swallowed and put the water back and reached for my phone.

Watcha doin, El?

His reply came quickly and did nothing to sate my curiosity.

Do NOT come out here.

And as an afterthought, he sent, Please.

I chuckled and shook my head, checking my email and my texts as I ignored the strange noises coming out of my kitchen. Most of the noises were definitely Elliot searching for things, and I wondered if he was trying to bring me tea in bed, which was so sweet I started grinning again.

My smile didn’t have a chance to falter before Elliot appeared in the doorway, clad in his jeans and his dark t-shirt from last night. I saw that his feet were bare, but hoodie-less and barefoot Elliot were not the strangest sights: Elliot stood in the doorway of my bedroom balancing a tray with what looked like two stacks of pancakes.

My grin had made him stop in his tracks and he glanced over his shoulder before asking what I was smiling at.

“You,” I said, drinking in the sweetness of this version of Elliot, unable to stop my mind from wondering if I’d ever see him like this again.

Elliot smiled a little as he approached the bed and set the tray down gently.

He had made pancakes, stacked about six deep on two plates and cooked to golden perfection. In between each layer he had placed sliced strawberries and bananas. On top, he carefully arranged some blueberries and some more strawberries, all left over from our indoor picnic.

Overwhelmed, my eyes filled with tears because I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done something so sweet for me. I knew Elliot was watching me, so I bit the inside of my lip and willed myself to stop acting like an idiot over breakfast in bed.

“This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time,” I said, my eyes still on the tray.

“Try the tea. I’m not sure if I got it right,” he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

I sipped my tea and assured him it was perfect. Elliot seemed to relax a little, but he was waiting for me to try the pancakes.

I finally looked up and raised my brow before saying, “Come on—I’m not eating without you.”

Elliot climbed back into bed and settled with his back against the headboard. I picked up the tray and settled in next to him, balancing the tray on one of his thighs and one of mine.

I poked at the pieces of fruit on the top of the pancake stack and took a bite, relishing in the cool burst of sweetness that coated my tongue, soothing some more of my cottonmouth from last night’s smoking session. I picked at the fruit on Elliot’s stack and turned to him, pausing with my fork in front of his mouth.

He opened and I slid the fork between his lips.

Well, that was a bad idea,I thought as a shiver of lust worked its way through me.

I went back to concentrating on my own pancake prep, buttering and adding syrup to the top few pancakes.

I took a big bite and told him they were delicious. Elliot grinned at the praise and picked up his own fork. We were both famished and quickly finished off our breakfast. I held onto my tea and Elliot reached for his before I removed the tray from of our laps.

I shifted, drawing my legs up as I turned to face him.

“So you doknow your way around the kitchen,” I said, smiling softly.

“I used to make pancakes for my sister on Saturdays. We’d watch cartoons, real quietly so my mom wouldn’t wake up, and we’d make a game of it—of seeing how quiet we could be before we just couldn’t keep it in and laughed our heads off.”

“How far apart are you?”

“Four years,” Elliot said, his eyes fixed on the corner windows in my bedroom.

“What’s her name?”

“Darlene.”

“Pretty name,” I said before taking another drink of tea.

“She’d like you,” Elliot said, blinking and then turning to look at me. “You don’t let me get away with my ‘bullshit’ as she would put it.”

“Maybe I’ll get to meet her sometime. Ask her how she’s put up with you for all these years,” I said, smiling over my teacup.

“You really liked the pancakes?” Elliot asked, changing the subject, but advertently or inadvertently, I wasn’t sure because a shy smile formed on his face as he glanced at the empty tray.

“10/10. Highly recommend,” I said, pulling a real smile from Elliot as he looked at me.

I leaned forward and lightly pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I said gently.

“You’re welcome.”

Our shy smiles slipped from our lips with the longer we looked at each other and it was becoming painfully obvious I was sitting in a bed, in mybed, with Elliot. I wanted to straddle his lap, kiss him, praise him, fuck him into a stupor until we both forgot why he was really here.

But I couldn’t.

I was his boss, and it was a distinct possibility I would end up with the directive to fire him for destroying those servers. I couldn’t risk causing that kind of complication for him or for myself.

I broke our eye contact by shaking my head and scooting to the bottom of the bed to get up. I reached for the tray, but Elliot pushed me away.

“I’ll clean up,” he said as he reached for my empty teacup.  

“Thank you, again,” I said as I walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

I leaned against the door, my head lulling back so my eyes could dance across the ceiling as my thoughts consumed me.

If things turned out for the worst on Tuesday, I still wanted Elliot to stay in my life, even if it was just as friends. I had worked so hard to break down some of his walls, to get us to a point where our working relationship was rock solid. This weekend, despite the horror of how he came to be here, we easily slid into a real friendship. I cared about him—really cared about him.

And he was learning about me; he asked me questions and he listened. He knew exactly how I took my tea for fuck’s sake—that’s like, a month’s deep worth of knowledge in the dating world.

And he cooked for me. Surely, for someone like Elliot, that was an intimate act.

The real question that needed answered was whether or not Elliot would fit into my life, or if he would even want to fit into my life.

I sighed and pushed up from the door. After Tuesday—I couldn’t answer any of these questions until after Tuesday. It would only be fair to give Elliot space to deal with the aftermath of the sever room.

I stood in front of the mirror, inventorying my appearance, cursing that I had a slight blush creeping from under the collar of my t-shirt.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I gathered my hair into a messy bun, not quite ready to shower yet because every Memorial Day weekend, there was a party on the rooftop of my building. The Tenants’ Association got caterers and bartenders to take care of the food and drinks and everyone gathered to watch the fireworks that were set off over the East River.

I usually attended, using it as a time to get to know my new neighbors and to catch up with the old. I wondered how I to broach the possibility of attending to Elliot. Would he flat out refuse, or would he shrug his shoulders with indifference?

I walked out to the kitchen as Elliot was loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Does this look right?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Yup,” I said as I peeked in the dishwasher, noticing that it looked like Elliot had washed everything before he even put it in, at least a lot more thoroughly than I ever did.

I leaned behind him against the kitchen island and directed him on how to add in the dishwashing liquid. Once he did, I shut the door and turned the dishwasher on, then moved back to my spot against the island.

Elliot crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the sink.

“Is there anything you want to do today?” I asked.

Elliot shook his head, shrugging his shoulders a little.

“Welllll,” I began, crossing my own arms over my chest. “There’s a party on the roof tonight—fireworks at 10. Would you like to go with me?”

Elliot stayed very still, his eyes dancing over my face before he turned away and looked out of the window. He was silent for several long moments, but I was patient. I wanted him to think about it and to give me an honest answer.

“Is it just people who live here?”

“Yup—us singletons are encouraged to bring a guest, though.”

“Do you always go?”

“Just about always,” I said, nodding.

“Is it fancy?”

“Not at all. Super casual.”

“I didn’t really bring anything else to wear.”

“Jeans and a t-shirt are cool. Might be too hot for the hoodie, but whatever. You can wear whatever you want,” I said, trying to placate Elliot since he hadn’t outright rejected my invitation.

“Okay,” he said, his voice quiet. “But can I ask you to do something?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t—” Elliot broke off, shifting his stance and his eyes from the floor to my face and back again. “Don’t leave me alone.”

I smiled and said, “I can certainly honor that request. And if you don’t like it, off we’ll pop right back here.”

Elliot seemed less nervous, so I asked my next question.

“What time do you want to go up? We’ve got so much food to eat here, I don’t think we need to go at dinner time.”

“We definitely can’t let yesterday’s picnic go to waste.”

“No,” I said smiling. “How about we go up around 8? Enjoy some free booze—the bartenders are always really good—hey, do you drink?”

Elliot shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t notdrink.”

“That’s an excellent Elliot-ish answer,” I said as I pushed off from the counter.

* * * * *

Elliot and I spent most of the day relaxing, the TV talking quietly in the background while we worked on our laptops. I was again surprised at how natural it felt to be around him. This lazy Sunday was almost like our late nights at the office, each of us working on our own projects, stopping to chat when the mood struck, taking a break to snack on some leftovers when we got hungry.  

Around 6:45 I headed back to my room to get ready. I took my time in the shower, savoring the feel of the hot water as it sprayed over my body, easing some of the tension in my muscles.

I styled my hair, leaving it down, and applied my makeup, focusing on drawing attention to my eyes.

I stood in my closet and debated about what to wear. I wanted to look good, maybe put on something a little sexy to see if Elliot would notice, but I didn’t want to overdress after telling him it was a casual party.

I settled on a short pair of denim shorts and a light blue, loose fitting top that had a deep v-neck, showing off just enough cleavage to be sexy but not outrageous. I looked through my Nikes and settled on a pair of dark blue ones that had swirls of light blue that would match my top.

Giving myself a once-over in my full-length mirror, I decided that the look was good enough.

I slipped my cellphone into my back pocket along with my elevator key and my house key, forgoing a purse since I wasn’t going very far.

Elliot was sitting in what I now deemed as his spot on the couch, his face lit up by the light glow of his phone. I could see that his hands looked even better and he hadn’t put any new bandages on them; the same went for his head wound, which was almost barely noticeable except for the bruising.

At some point, Elliot had showered and changed, and his hair was neatly styled. He was wearing dark grey jeans and another black t-shirt—it could have even been the same t-shirt. I was beginning to gather that casual-Elliot’s wardrobe did not offer much variety.

He looked up when I walked over to him and his eyes immediately fixed on my chest and lingered there, his lips slightly parting.

“You ready?” I asked, smiling.

His eyes shot to my face and he seemed to drink in the rest of me in the same manner.

“Your hair looks pretty,” he said, turning his phone off and standing.

“So does yours,” I said.

“You’re supposed to say ‘thanks,’ not immediately deflect the focus from you.”

“Seriously, El. How many years have you spent in therapy? I need to be prepared for these nuggets of psychoanalysis you keep tossing at me.”

I turned around to give him a grin as I opened the front door but was surprised to see him looking at me like I had just divulged his biggest secret.

I raised my eyebrows and asked, “What?”

“Why do you think I’ve spent time in therapy?”

“It was a joke, I thought,” as I dropped my hand from the door and turned around to face him. “Have you been in therapy?”

Elliot slowly pushed his hands into his pockets and lowered his gaze to the floor. It was yet another time when I knew I needed to be patient, so I took a few steps toward him and shoved my door key back in my pocket.

“Yeah. I’ve gone.”

“Me, too.”

He looked up at me, his brows contracted with thought, worry, or confusion—at this moment, I just wasn’t sure.

“Ask, don’t hack,” I said, reminding Elliot of his promise to me.

He took another moment to look at me before finally asking, “Why did you go?”

“Depression. I suffered from it for a few years, starting when I was 18. I think the therapist helped more with my anxiety, though. The meds seemed to kick the depression to the curb.”

“What were you on?”

“Paxil. Lorazepam for the anxiety because it graduated to panic attacks as I got older. I still keep some of those little suckers on hand.”  

Elliot seemed very interested in my ability to casually discuss mental health. He kept looking at me to see if I was going to yell something like, Ha! Just kidding—depression and anxiety are for freaks, not normal people like me!

“So, table this discussion and party? Or cancel the party and talk about this?”

Elliot pulled a hand from his pocket and ran it through his hair, seriously considering his choices.

“Table it until after Tuesday?”

“Yeah—Tuesday’s looming over my head, too. Good news—that’s why god invented alcohol.”

“Do you believe in god?” Elliot asked.

I laughed and reached for the door again, this time pulling it open.

“Maybe I should put hacking me back on the table if these are the kinds of questions you want to ask on the way to a rooftop party,” I said, smiling.

“Sorry,” Elliot said, his eyes watching my hands as I locked the door.

We walked to the elevator and as we waited, I said, “I guess I like to think of myself as agnostic. I feel too arrogant saying no because human beings are so complex, and there’s just so much we don’t know. I can definitely say I do not believe in organized religion. That’s the work of men—and you and I know just how many bugs man has in system.”

Elliot’s face lit up and he began to talk, reflecting on the formation of religion and the problems in the world that are directly related to it. He talked the rest of the elevator ride up but immediately closed his mouth when the doors opened out onto the roof.

“Good move, El. I wouldn’t start with religion either,” I said reaching over to take his hand.

He froze but I didn’t relinquish my grasp; instead, I wiggled my fingers around to link his hand with mine.

“I made you a promise—I’m not gonna leave your side.”

Elliot looked down at our linked hands, then looked up at me and smiled. It was so pure and so genuine I thought that this really could work, that he and I could be happy together.  

“Y/N! Hi—It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

And so it went as Elliot and I made our way around the rooftop, trying different mixed drinks out at the bar stations before someone else pulled us in for a chat. I did most of the talking, of course, but Elliot quietly answered any questions directed his way.

When it was time to gather on the side of the roof for the best view of the fireworks, Elliot and I were both feeling just about right, not drunk but not sober, so I stood in front of him and leaned back. He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me in tighter. I looked up, angling my head so I could see his large eyes reflecting the lights of the fireworks as they started to pop off.

“You’re supposed to be watching the fireworks, not me,” Elliot said, his lips next to my ear.

“Kiss me,” I breathed, causing Elliot to stiffen, his lips parting in surprise.

“You said—”

“I know what I said, but I don’t care right now,” I breathed into his ear after I turned around in his arms. “After tomorrow, everything will change and I don’t know howit’s going to change. What if you never speak to me again and this is it—our last unaffected moment?”

Elliot glanced around at the people beside us and behind us, their eyes trained on the sky. He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the small crowd. He made his way to the abandoned side of the roof and pulled me toward one of the firepit tables. The nook was surrounded by blossoming trees twinkling with white lights that dripped from their branches. The fireworks continued to sound and to emit flashes of harsh light that disrupted the warm glow of the firepit.

Elliot stopped, a bit abruptly and turned to face me, his hands on my upper arms.

“Even if I get fired tomorrow, I will never forget what you did for me. You have to know, Y/N, you are the best thing about that job. You were right—that first night we talked. I could get hired anywhere—do anything in this industry, but it’s you that makes me want to stay. You . . . care,” Elliot finished, a question in his voice as he warred with believing I truly did care.

“Kiss me, El.”

Elliot looked at me, his eyes memorizing my face. His tongue darted out before he leaned in, his eyes sliding shut.

When our lips met, I melted into him, my arms wrapping around his neck as his hands found my waist and his fingers dug into my lower back. The kiss was slow, almost lazy as if time were listening, encouraging us to take this moment and cement every sensation to our memories.

I could hear the popping of fireworks and the chatter of the other party guests, but it was so distant as Elliot deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding across my lower lip, pulling a sigh from my mouth as my lips opened and I slipped my tongue out to touch his. He was much more bold than I expected, turning his head and entering my mouth, controlling the kiss.

But when I shifted, closing out the kiss and nipping at his lips, he was pliant as he gave over to my explorations of his mouth. I tasted the sweetness of our mixers and the bitterness of our alcohol as my tongue explored, slipping over and around his, reaching up to lick at the roof his mouth before I caught his upper lip between my own.

When we pulled back, Elliot rested his forehead against mine, his mouth still parted as his breathing evened out. I couldn’t tell you how long we stood like that, listening as the fireworks popped off in quick succession, the finale in full swing.

“Thanks for not fighting me on that one,” I said as I pressed a sweet, close-mouthed kiss to his lips.

* * * * *

Elliot was already in the shower in the guest room by the time my alarm went off, the noise barely jarring me since I spent most of my night restlessly tossing. Neither of us said much of anything other than a quick good night as he went into the guest room and I walked further down the hall to my own room.

I had trouble falling asleep, missing the feel of his body against mine, but I knew if I went into that bedroom, or if he came into mine, neither of us would be able to stop the inevitable shift of our relationship and I knew that neither of us was ready for it.

I didn’t want Elliot to be a fling, but I wasn’t sure how much he wanted from me. I needed to know that before anything more could happen between us.

I shuffled into my bathroom and sleepily brushed my teeth. I washed my face, then reapplied some light makeup. I braided my hair and figured it looked good enough for the task at hand today.

I went to my closet and pulled on a pair of leggings, a plaid, oversized tunic, and I layered it with a jean jacket. I pulled on a pair of white sneakers, adjusting the laces.

I went out to the living room and packed up my work bag, making sure to grab my laptop’s charger. I sent a quick text to Franco to make sure everything was still going according to plan.

Elliot walked out and gathered the rest of his stuff, his body language closed off, tense.

“Got everything?” I asked quietly.

Elliot nodded. He hadn’t yet pulled his hood up, but I was waiting for it. His eyes were bloodshot, and I could tell he hadn’t slept well, if at all.

He situated his backpack, and I pulled my tote onto my shoulder. I opened the door and Elliot followed, much in the same pattern as last night.

We took the elevator down to my SUV and made our way pretty quickly to the office. When we arrived, Franco was already there, his white box truck pulled into the pick-up/drop-off zone.

As Elliot and I pulled in behind the truck, Franco hopped out.

“Hey, Franc,” I said, my voice muffled as he pulled me into a fierce hug.

“You ready to get this party started?” he said, grinning at me despite the too-early hour of the morning.

“Morning people are the worst,” I mumbled before introducing Franco and Elliot.

Franco gave Elliot a wave as he sized him up and Elliot gave Franco his signature stare from under the protection of his hoodie.

“Not a morning person, either,” Franco said, raising his eyebrow.

“Elliot isn’t a small-talk person,” I said as I stood beside the backdoor of the truck, waiting for Franco to slide it open.

Franco did and then bounded in as he explained what he was able to get us. I looked at Elliot and he nodded his head.

Franco and Elliot each used one of the dollies in the truck to take up a boxed server, following me as I retraced my path from Friday night. It was the quickest route to the server room, and since the building was closed for the holiday, it was the easiest way to go.

While the boys went down to bring up the other two servers, I began to clean up Elliot’s mess, boxing up broken pieces and wiggling the servers out from their location, seeing if anything else would fall off of them. I was sweeping up some glass and other smashed bits when Elliot and Franco returned.

Franco let out a low whistle and said, “What the fuck happened, Y/N?”

“It’s a long story,” I said, looking at him square in the eye and silently begging that he wouldn’t push for a better response.

Franco glanced from my face to Elliot, who had his eyes firmly planted on the floor and his head tucked far back into his hoodie.

“So, you want me to take the broken ones, right?”

“Yup—and I trust you to degauss the hard drives; we don’t have that kind of equipment here.”

Elliot stepped toward us, his eyes peeking at me from inside the hoodie. He opened his mouth, but then shut it as he looked over at Franco.

“I trust him, Elliot. He knows what he’s doing.”

Elliot sighed and Franco, god love him, pretended nothing had just happened.

“Let’s get these on to the truck,” Franco said, looking at Elliot as he moved his dolly to the first ruined tower.

Elliot and Franco slowly transported the broken servers out as I began the arduous process of setting up each new tower.

I was working on unboxing the second server when Elliot and Franco returned.

“Can I help?” Franco asked.

“Oh, god. You’ve done enough,” I said, kicking the box across the floor and toward the other discarded box. “Elliot and I can take it from here.”

Elliot was already picking up where I left off and Franco was looking at me in the same way Jill had on Friday night when we were alone in the hall. I frowned and told Elliot I was going to walk Franco out.

“The door,” Elliot said, his eyes widening.

I nodded and punched in the code to release the magnet that would hold the door propped open. It would automatically retract after a half an hour to make sure the server room stayed at the optimal temperature, but walking out with Franco wouldn’t take much time.

Once CIStech’s door shut, Franco stopped me and grabbed both of my upper arms.

“What the fuck, Y/N?”

“That’s exactly what Jill said.”

“Rightly so! The dude you are currently working alone with blacked out and smashed up a server room,” Franco said as he released me and turned toward the elevator.

“Is that what he told you?”

“Eventually, yeah. I just kept making comments. I actually wondered if maybe he was mute.”

“Elliot has a lot of anxiety when it comes to strangers. It takes him a long time to warm up to someone.”

“Is that what this is? He warmed up to you by smashing the server room to shit?”

“Did he tell you he panicked because his teammates locked him in so they wouldn’t miss out on partying it up over the long weekend?”

“What?” Franco asked as the elevator settled on the lobby floor.

“Elliot was hacking the new security protocol and he kept finding holes. His teammates were pissed and locked him in the server room, presumably as a joke, but I don’t think they intended to let him out at all, Franco. If he hadn’t destroyed—”

“He could have unplugged them. You knowthat.”

“He could have, yes, but he freaked out.”

Franco shook his head as you walked him out through the front doors.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be—Elliot is a good guy. I said the same thing to Jill. What would you have done if you already had trust issues, finally started trusting your fucking colleagues, and they locked you up for nothing other than hedonism?”

“I’d have fucking beat every one of their asses as soon as I got out.”

I laughed and leaned my head on Franco’s shoulder.

“See? Not so different from Elliot’s reaction.”

“You like him,” Franco stated, ensuring there was no inflection in his voice, no chance of my mistaking it as a question.

“I do.”

“You’re his boss.”

“I am.”

“Do not fuck around with this guy, Y/N. Keep your head on straight.”

“I won’t. And I promise you he is one of the good ones. He’s just got some . . . issues.”

“You can’t fix every lost soul who clings to you. Me? I was already on the right path, but this Elliot guy—I’m not so sure anyone can fix him.”

“You’ve only known him for like an hour.”

“I know you, though. And I know you see the best in people despite your cynicism. You tend to overcompensate—some people aren’t worth saving.”

I looked up at Franco, and I summoned all of my resolve.

“Elliot is worth it. He’s special.”

Franco’s dark eyes raked over my face and once he saw the truth behind my words, he relaxed.

“Maybe we can hang out soon?”

“Not maybe—definitely. Text me a time and a place, and I promise I’ll just say yes.”

“Alright,” Franco said with a grin. “I will hold you to that.”

I hugged Franco goodbye, wished him a good rest of the day, and reminded him to send a bill to CIStech.

When I returned to the server room, the door was still propped open, but I deactivated the magnet and watched as the door swung shut again, holding my badge up so Elliot knew we had a way out.

“Is your friend gone?” Elliot asked as he plugged in cables.

“Yes. Franco’s gone.”

“I told him what happened.”

“You told him halfof what happened which resulted in him worrying about me.”

Elliot glanced over at me, his head sticking out from under his hoodie a little more as he worked.

“Looks like he got us servers with a basic OS already installed so that will save some time,” Elliot said as he pulled up the configuration for the first new server. “Do you want to start patching the OS while I set up the next tower?”

“Sure,” I said, moving my laptop from its spot on the floor.

Elliot and I spent the rest of the day cleaning up the server room and making it look like nothing had happened. Normally, the machines should run for a day to bed in, but we didn’t have that kind of time. Elliot ran check after check and when he finally approved, he passed the laptop to me to set up DNS, WINS, file shares, users and all the applications the servers would need to run normally on Tuesday.

When we locked up the office and walked back to my car, the sun was setting, bathing the city in an eerie pink light.

I typed Elliot’s address into the navigation again and we drove in silence to his apartment. I pulled over to the curb to let him out.

“Well, El. You’re finally free from me,” I said, making an attempt at a joke to ease both of our nerves.

Elliot sighed, his hand poised on the door.

“I meant what I said last night—I don’t care what happens tomorrow. Don’t—don’t put your reputation on the line for me.”

I grabbed Elliot’s arm before he could open the door and bolt.

“Everyone deserves justice. Especially you. I just wish you’d believe that.”

Elliot looked at me, his eyes flickering between mine.

“It’s enough that you believe it, Y/N,” Elliot said before he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, a soft, closed-mouth kiss of appreciation.

“Goodnight, Elliot,” I said softly.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he returned, pulling his hood up as he exited my car and sliding into his backpack.

I watched him walk up the stairs to his apartment, and I found myself filling with a sadness caused by the loss of Elliot’s presence.

As I drove home, sitting in the increasing traffic as people returned to the city, the long weekend over and reality looming over all of us, I thought about everything I needed to do tomorrow.

Julia and Aaron would be first; if I broke them, it would only be a matter of time before I got the other three to turn on each other. Given that I knew Julia and Aaron were already worried, a call into the Senior Manager’s office first thing in the morning would cement their fears.

Fear was a powerful weapon.

When I got home, my apartment felt smaller and far too quiet. The presence of Elliot lingered and I longed for him, to touch him, to look at him, to listen to him. I wanted nothing more than to live in the world of suspended reality we had created over the weekend.

I shucked off my clothes and threw them in the hamper when I got in the closet. I went to my drawer and pulled out an old t-shirt, not even bothering with any sleep shorts.

I was tired, but unsure if my brain would shut the fuck up enough to let me sleep. I slipped into bed and caught that familiar citrusy scent of Elliot. I smiled into the pillow he had slept on and I hugged it tight to my chest. I couldn’t believe that yesterday we had been eating pancakes in bed, and now, Elliot was a million miles away from me.

I looked over the foot of the bed and watched the skyline of the city, letting my mind wonder. Despite how often negative thoughts plagued me, I couldn’t tamp out the warmth threatening to spread through me every time I thought of the possibility of a future with Elliot.  

[monstersandmaw]

Male dom orc x female sub reader (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I thought this was already up here, but I can’t find it, so here it is again. I’ve got a ko-fi commission for a part two in the form of a chunky 10 sentence drabble, so I’ll be working on that, hence looking for it.

This features someone beginning to think about maybe entering into the very early stages of d/s lifestyle, and this story is just the two getting to know each other first. Trust is an absolute must in any relationship, and none more so than in one featuring consensual submission/domination. Rules and boundaries must be talked through, it must be healthy for both parties, and needs must be met in all areas. One person may like one thing and not another. This is what Orok feels very passionately about, and he reflects my values on that.

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

When you’d signed up for the website, you had been at a real low point in your life, and what made it worse was you felt like you had no right to feel that way.  

You had a brilliant job – a high up position in the company – and a great group of friends, and, at the time, a great boyfriend. Before him, you’d only ever been with humans, but there had been something about the tiefling that had just drawn you in. Too bad you’d driven him away too in the end.  

So, after indulging in watching a bit of your favourite porn, you had washed your hands, and, not being remotely tired, had settled down in front of your laptop, the harsh blue light making you squint. You’d found the website first by accident while browsing around one evening that had gone not dissimilarly to this one, and now you clicked back onto it and did some more serious investigating into what it had to offer. Namely, that was putting submissives in contact with a potentially suitable dominant.

A chat window popped up and you suspected it was a robot, but when they asked if they could help you with anything, you reluctantly typed in that you weren’t sure whether this was for you, but you were curious.  

- Don’t worry, came the reply. We get that a lot. Anything I can do to answer your questions?

Your heart was hammering, and you were the next thing to slamming the lid of your laptop shut and forgetting the whole thing, but something made you pause.  

- How does it work? you typed after a moment. 

- Simple – you sign up and take our questionnaire. It’ll ask you your preferences, things you’re definitely ok with, things you’d be willing to try, and things that are absolutely off the cards. Based on your answers, we’ll forward it (without your name attached) to a few of the doms we have on here that we think might be suitable for you, and then they’ll get in touch with you via messenger on the website or the app if you have it on mobile. We’ve got human and non-human doms registered.  

- Then what?

- You can get to know them a bit first before you meet, to see if you like them, and if they think it’d work out with you too. It’s important that both parties feel comfortable. What you choose to exchange is up to you. Anything you send to your prospective dom is kept confidential. It’s just company policy, and if they want to be a dom registered with us, then they have to agree to that.  

- I see, you said. It certainly seemed professionally organised. What does the company get out of this then? Do I have to pay you or something?

- No, no, came the response. We don’t take any payment from you. That’s not what we’re about. We get enough money from advertisements on our site to cover the admin costs. It’s all free for you and the dom.

- Ok, I’ll think about it. Thanks.

- Not a problem. Just hit ‘contact us’ if you have any more questions.  

You thought about it for a long time, and then signed up. The questionnaire was very thorough, covering things from activities and scenes you were willing to do or try, to words and names you were ok (or not) with. It took you nearly half an hour to finish it and you hit the button that, rather cheekily, said ‘submit ;P’ on it with a little snort.  

The next screen showed a polite little message thanking you for completing the questionnaire and reminding you to download the app if you hadn’t already.  

It wasn’t until the next day that you got a response.  

Your phone buzzed and you drew it out, standing on the crowded Underground at half five, packed in on all sides with similarly wan-looking commuters. At least some of the trains had wifi now. That was a bonus.  

When you saw the little notification beside the demure little app logo, your heart leapt and you glanced about you apprehensively, but everyone was too glassy eyed and ashen-faced to pay you the slightest attention.  

The message was from someone named Orok, and you could tell from the little photo beside his name that he was an orc. You clicked on it, enlarging it, and you saw that he had long, black hair, and surprisingly pale skin for an orc. It was the kind of colour that might have been called apple blossom or something on a pretentious colour chart. There was a patch of darker green skin just visible at the line of his collar though, and he had some beautiful freckles across his cheeks as he smiled. The gesture crinkled the corners of his eyes and his flattened, typically orcish nose. He had thick, blunt, gleaming twin tusks on each side, which was somewhat of a rarity, and his delicately-tapering ears sported a couple of piercings.  

His eyes, however, were perhaps the most arresting thing about him. One was a dark, rich brown, while the other, his right eye, was a light, forget-me-not blue.

You minimised his picture, noticing the way his big shoulders looked in the pale blue work shirt, and read his message. You had been worried it would be inappropriate or overly sexual, but it was nothing of the sort.  

Hi, he began. I got sent your questionnaire, and I’d really like to chat with you a bit more about a few things you said on it. I see you’ve never had a dom before, and that you’re not sure if this is even for you, so I’d like to see if you’ve got any questions I can answer to set your mind at ease about it all. I’m happy to do this on whatever level you feel comfortable – from very low key upwards, so don’t worry. Looking forward to hearing back from you, Orok.

You stared at it a long time, and then clicked on his picture again, trying to imagine him dominating you. It wasn’t hard. He must have had massive hands, and frankly you were certain he could be very forceful if he wanted to be. It seemed totally at odds with the sweet nature of his message.  

Confused, you shut the app and locked your phone, sliding it back into your bag without answering.  

You let it go another whole day before you plucked up the courage to message him.  

- Hi, sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I’d like to give it a go. What did you want to know?

About ten minutes later, just as you were pouring yourself a big glass of wine, your phone buzzed.  

- Good to hear from you. I had begun to think you’d lost your nerve.  

- I suspect it happens…

-:) yeah. It’s ok though. People often don’t know what they want or what to expect, and get overwhelmed. I’m here to help, and make sure that doesn’t happen, whether you end up deciding to let me become your dom or not.  

- Thanks, that’s reassuring.  

- :). So, I suppose I’d better start. What is it you’re hoping to get out of this?

You sighed and reached for your wine. You had your legs curled up beneath you on the sofa, and a cushion at your back, but it didn’t make you any more relaxed.  

- honestly, I don’t really know. I need a release. I need someone else to do all the worrying and the caring for once, you know?

- I know, and I understand. Totally something we could work from and build on. I have a few ideas for us, but I’d like you to meet me first. And if you decide I’m not for you (or this isn’t for you) after all, that’s ok too.  

- thanks, you wrote, sighing and sipping your wine before sending it. This is all kind of… a lot easier/more relaxed than I thought it would be? You know?

- haha, yes, that’s a common reaction I think.  

After a few minutes you fired off another message. Do you have more than one sub at a time?

- personally, no. Some of the other doms who use the site do, but it’s not my style.  

You arranged to meet after work on Friday, with Orok letting you pick the place. You went for a quiet bar not far from the river, and you’d been sitting there for perhaps a quarter of an hour when he walked in, exactly on time.  

Your breath caught when you saw him. He was seven and a half feet tall, wearing a white shirt this time that stretched just perfectly over his huge chest and arms without looking obscene, and his hair was pulled back in a traditional orcish braid, plaited into small braids at the sides and drawn back into a larger, Dutch braid over the crown of his head. As he looked around, wondering who and where you were, you saw the beads woven into it at various stages as it hung in a rope as thick as an anchor chain, all the way to his waist. Your stomach twisted slightly at the sight of it. You’d never been with anyone who had hair that long.  

His heterochromic eyes were stunning, if a little eerie, and when they locked onto you, sitting at a table in the corner, they narrowed and you smiled. As you offered him the gesture, he returned it with genuine warmth, his tusks gleaming in the low ambient lighting of the bar.  

He came over, quietly spoke your name, and when you nodded, he grinned and stretched out an enormous hand. His skin was mottled between the pale of the skin of his face and the darker patch you could see on his neck, and you wondered if he was like that all over. God, it was attractive though.  

“Hi,” you croaked, standing up to shake his hand.  

“Hi,” he said back, his voice rich and warm and deep. His mismatching eyes flickered to your empty table. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Choose something for me?” you said, not trying to be coy.  

He chuckled, a friendly, rolling laugh that reminded you of distant, summer thunderstorms. “I think we’re going to get along just fine,” he said as he turned away and you resumed your seat. 

___________________________

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

[insfiringyou]

BTS - Coffee Date (Suga x Jeong-sun)

This is part of our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline (post military enlistment) and takes place a week after Yoongi fixes Jeong-sun’s boiler in ‘A Change of Plans’.  

(The ex girlfriend mentioned by Yoongi in this is Kim, who is the focus of our earliest Yoongi headcanon fic ‘Suga’s first gf cheats on him’.) Warnings for brief mentions of drugs.

Find out more about the ongoing plot and original characters in our headcanon universe here) 

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin  /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook 

& Our full masterlist can be found here

Content below cut

Jeong-sun inhaled the sweet scent of sugar-sprinkled pastries and roasted coffee beans in the chilly winter air of the narrow street. She hugged her arms across her navy sweater, hooking her handbag into the crook of her armpit as she peered through the glass door of the coffee house on the corner, into the cosy space beyond. Yoongi was waiting patiently for her by the refrigerated unit which housed the chilled drinks, dressed casually in a slender pair of black jeans and a cream ribbed sweater. She noticed his hair had grown some more despite having last seen him only the week before and she had to fight the rising nerves she felt as she grasped the door handle.

Over the past week, the giddy feelings of sickness she had experienced since he visited her apartment slowly began to disperse as her memory of their final moments together in her bedroom, faded. The fierce, longing way he had looked at her as she presented herself in the doorway, wearing the new dress she had bought with him in mind, was starting to feel like something which had happened to someone else; more surreal as the days passed. With a deep breath, she opened the door and was relieved when he glanced at her with nothing more than casual pleasure at her having finally shown up. The bell above the door tinkled softly, indicating her arrival, and he stepped forward to greet her by the counter.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” She mumbled, joining him in the line of customers waiting to be served. “The traffic near the river was awful.” 

He shook his head, letting her know it was okay. A low murmur of background chatter floated from the dozen or so tables dotted around the space; the coffee house was surprisingly busy for 2pm on a weekday and it took them a few minutes to be seen. Yoongi ordered a black filter coffee before turning to Jeong-sun. 

“What are you having?” 

She hesitated, remembering her offer to pay for them both.

“A large latte?” 

He nodded before repeating the order to the barista and she switched places with him as he peered into the glass unit beneath the marble counter, pointing out a pastry to a second server.

“Do you want to try the Colombian blend for an extra 1,000 won?” The barista asked Jeong-sun as he poured Yoongi’s drink, steaming and bitter, from the plastic jug at the back of the counter. 

“Sure.” She smirked a little. “Why not?”

“Can I take both your names?” He asked. 

It took her a moment to realise why he was asking, by which time Yoongi had returned to her side, clutching a brown paper bag with the top corner folded over neatly. He answered the question on both their behalves and leaned forward to pay for the coffees before she could protest. Drinks in hand, they stepped away from the till. She peered over at his paper cup, eyebrow raised. 

“They got your name wrong.” 

“That barista always does.” He shrugged. “I’ve never corrected him.” 

“Do you come here often?” She asked curiously, blowing softly onto her latte from the little gap in the plastic lid.

“I figured coffee was healthier than whisky.” He quipped from her side as he peered around the crowded space, looking for a pair of seats. 

“Not really.” She allowed herself a quick glance at his features, raising her voice a little to be heard over the cries of a baby in the background. “It can increase your cholesterol.”

He pulled a face. “I have that to look forward to then.” He murmured sarcastically and their eyes met as they grinned in unison. “Where shall we sit?” He asked, quickly looking away.

Jeong-sun followed his gaze and glanced around the room. Several push chairs blocked the aisles between them and the few spare round tables and, in one corner, a small boy chased another around a trash can. 

“Shall we take it out?” She said quietly, a slightly bashful grin playing on her lips. She had to deal with unruly children, usually on a sick day from school, enough times in her job at the pharmacy to desire some peace and quiet on her day off. The bemused look on Yoongi’s face told her he felt the same. 

“Good idea.” He turned towards the exit, leading the way from the snug and warm coffee house to the brisk air outside. The streets and buildings in this part of town were old and grey, making a twee contrast to the glass and concrete which adorned the majority of the city. The rectangle clearing in front of the cafe was almost deserted and they mutually headed towards a stone monument in the centre, sitting on the steps which surrounded it. Yoongi waited for her to mount the top step before taking his place on the shorter platform in front of her. Taking a silent sip of coffee in unison and clutching the warm paper cups gratefully, they watched as their breaths turned to steam in the cool air. Basking in the warmth between her hands, Jeong-sun turned around to read the bronze plaque on the plinth behind her. 

“Who's Yi Sun-sin?” She asked. 

“Naval commander. Old.” He shrugged easily, unwrapping the icing-coated pastry from the paper bag in his hand.

“Oh.” She watched as he tore off a crumby corner from the bun and tossed it indifferently into the square.

There was a pause before Yoongi spoke up once more. “Are you cold?” 

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” The stone was a little chilly beneath her backside but her sweater kept the worst of the breeze at bay. His concern brought another question to mind as he broke off another segment of pastry absently and aimed it at the pair of pigeons who had started to gather on the path in front of him.

“Is your boiler holding up?” He asked with curiosity 

She nodded, watching as he tore off another crumbly edge. “You did a good job. I should really pay you.” She thought of the coffee and how she had hoped he would let her pay for them. While she admitted her bank account was tragically low on cash, the work on the boiler had taken several hours and, had he not been so eager to help, she would have had to have found the money for another plumber anyway.  

“It’s fine.” Yoongi murmured, meaning it as he said it and throwing more icing on the concrete. She fell silent, belatedly realising that he would not accept any money no matter how much she tried to convince him. A small gathering of pigeons flocked to the food. “How’s the coffee?” He asked, turning away from the birds that had started to bicker over the lukewarm pieces of pastry. He nodded towards the drink she had placed beside her on the stone seat.

She followed his eye line and took a token sip. “I can really taste the Colombian blend.” She quipped, making him laugh warmly.

“Money well spent?” He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at her. She nodded in reply, feeling her heartrate increase as he briefly met her gaze. He turned back towards the deserted square and began to pick once more at his frosted bun, making her sense that, like her, he was feeling uncharacteristically fidgety.  A larger crowd of birds, drawn to the iced delicacy, had started to crowd at his feet as he pulled apart the last of the crumbs and threw them to the ground.

Jeong-sun laughed softly. “Weren’t you hungry?” 

He shrugged. “It looked nice at the time.”

The sudden sound of synthesised music coming from her handbag took them both by surprise and he turned to watch as she unzipped the leather fastening and reached in to find her phone.

“It’s just my alarm...” She reassured, a little embarrassed as she fumbled around the jumble of items in her bag. Yoongi wondered, not for the first time, how she managed to fit so much into such a small space and how it was possible she seemed to lose so many things once they were inside. He vaguely recognised the tune as being the opening of a song she liked called Blue Monday, but he could not remember the lyrics. The volume got louder as she successfully pulled the black device from the inside pocket, inadvertently disturbing a few lighter items which were sent sprawling onto the pavement, spurred on by a sudden gust of wind.

Yoongi rushed to his feet to retrieve them as she fiddled with her phone, swiping the screen to turn off the alarm. A tube of Mac lipstick landed by his feet and a couple of glossy fliers had flown towards the curb near the coffee shop. Yoongi chased and collected them, glancing at the covers as he strolled back to the monument. He held them out and her small smile when she took them made his stomach flutter pleasantly.

“Thanks.” She banished the fliers and lipstick back into the dark confines of her bag.

“Are you thinking of retraining?” Yoongi asked with interest as he took a seat beside her on the third step. The leaflets had boasted a number of nursing programmes at local universities, the covers illustrated with photographs of women in uniform taking the temperature or blood pressure of elderly patients.

“I just picked it up at a seminar work sent me to.”

Yoongi frowned at her reply, immediately sensing that she was deliberately trying to sound disinterested. He wondered why but didn’t press on, instead changing the topic. “What was it on?”

“The seminar? Colonoscopy bags.”

He couldn’t gather whether she was joking or not, so assumed she wasn’t. “Do you get a lot of those?”

She shrugged. “It’s part of the job.” She confirmed before surprising him by addressing the previous issue. “Another degree would be really expensive, and they send you on a lot of placements.” The thought was clearly still on her mind and Yoongi suddenly realised why she had been reluctant to admit her interest. A moment later, she vocalised his suspicions. “I don’t think I could cover it working part-time.” She admitted with a small, inadvertent slump of her shoulders.

Yoongi sensed immediately that this was something she had debated and researched on her own in their time apart and that her conclusion was both accurate and incredibly unfair. He turned to face her, twisting his body so his covered knees brushed hers absently.

“You could always sell drugs on the side.” He joked, lightening the mood.

She grinned in reply, letting out a soft laugh which filled him with relief. “I don’t know the street price of Aspirin.”

He raised his shoulders nonchalantly. “You could cut it with talc to increase the yield.”

“You seem to know a lot about it.” She smirked.

He shrugged again coolly. “I used to date a weed dealer.” He admitted.

She smiled. “Really? I didn’t know that.” The conversation had taken a slightly unexpected turn but neither seemed to mind. They had surprisingly never explicitly discussed their exes during their time together which, at the time, had felt right. Now, however, she found herself curious and slightly amused to realise that after all this time there were still things she did not know about him. She suspected the feeling was probably mutual for him.

“She kept a plant under the stairs in the record store she worked out.” He explained casually.

“And how did it go?”

“She forgot to water it.”

Jeong-sun snapped her neck back in laughter, the bright sound filling the otherwise silent square. “Not much of a dealer.” She smirked as Yoongi grinned in reply. She thought for a moment. “My first boyfriend collected Lego.”

Yoongi looked at her. “How old was he?”

“Twenty-two.” She chuckled softly. “He made the Death Star.”

“A noble hobby.” He simpered with a gummy grin.  

“I stepped on a piece while getting out the shower.” She paused. “I think it caused our breakup.”

A natural silence fell over them as they watched a mother and child leave the coffee house from across the road. She pushed a stroller along the uneven concrete until they turned the corner towards the nearby park. Jeong-sun’s last comment had stirred an unpleasant memory in Yoongi’s mind which he quickly discarded as he got slowly to his feet. Unbeknownst to him, she was also lost in memory and the sound of his voice snapped her out of her pensive daze.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” He asked.

“No...” She blinked a few times as she looked up at him.

“Shall we walk?” He offered.

“Yeah.” She quickly got to her feet and winced a little at the numb sensation in her arse and thighs as she stood. Yoongi flashed an understanding smile and they stepped off the monument together. A quick glance at her pearl-faced watch confirmed they had been seated there, side by side, for over half an hour and they walked across the square in comfortable silence, unwittingly following the path they had seen the woman and baby taking five minutes before.

“It’s really fresh for a change.” Jeong-sun commented, noticing that she didn’t feel wheezy and tight in the chest like she usually did whenever she spent significant time outdoors without a face mask. Instead, the air was cool but pleasant. A low mist partially obscured the narrow streets, adding to the strange silence of the afternoon. Despite only being meters from the crowded coffee house, the atmosphere felt still and dreamy, as though they were the only two people in the world and had all the time in the world to talk.

“I can smell the salt from the sea.” Yoongi commented as the passageway brought them out at a row of black, metal railings which surrounded a small park. As he said it, Jeong-sun realised he was right, that she could sense an aquatic tang to the air, mixed with the heady scent of florals from the nearby rose garden. She vaguely wondered whether the local council imported flowers which bloomed in the winter.

The scent of the sea reminded him. “Jungkook bought a second apartment in Incheon.” He said.

“Oh?” The oversized sleeve of her jumper brushed against his as they walked closely through the mist.  

“His girlfriend moved there to be closer to her parents.” He explained, passing through the entrance of the garden. He spotted a few people seated on park benches in the distance and the woman with the push chair on the gravel path up ahead, but otherwise the open space was quiet and reflective.

“Do you ever think of moving back to Daegu?” Jeong-sun asked, realising as she said it that she didn’t know much about the city he grew up in. While he had visited Daegu sporadically during their time together, he had never revealed much about his feelings towards the place.

“I went back for a bit when I first came out to stay with my brother.” 

She recognised it wasn’t really an answer and pressed on. “How did it feel?”

He was silent for a moment. “Different.” He paused, thinking. “It was nice to visit.”

His tone told her everything she needed to know. “Just not your home anymore?” She asked quietly.

There was another pause and, in it, Jeong-sun’s heart began to speed before he had even replied. “I have more memories here.” He murmured.

“Me too.” Her reply came out as little more than a breathy whisper as she felt his little finger skim hers, accidently at first, before moving back in a little more bravely and brushing the skin on the backs of her fingers softly. Her breath hitched in her throat as they walked, both looking straight ahead.  

“How are your parents?” He asked, slipping back into the kind of conversation which felt comfortable and familiar. She sensed, despite his politeness, that he was genuinely curious.

“Still divorced.” She quipped, trying to keep her voice steady as she hooked her baby finger around his.

“Is your mom still travelling?” His voice was equally calm on the surface but, Jeong-sun fancied, she could sense his tension beneath, trying his best to hide his nerves. Her stomach and chest trembled at the thought as she nodded in reply to his question.

“She met someone on the internet.” Yoongi looked at her as she explained, wrapping his finger tightly around hers in reply, making her heart flutter. “I thought she was being scammed, but he’s a really nice guy.”

“Where is he from?”

“Australia. He doesn’t speak a word of Korean.” She smirked despite the thudding in her ears.

She saw him pull a face from the corner of her eye. “How does that work?”

“She studied English at university.” She couldn’t help but smile, knowing that Yoongi knew how incompetent she was at attempting other languages. He had once remarked, good-naturedly, that she was even more useless than he was. “They invited me to visit them in Perth next year.” She shrugged.

“That’ll be nice.” She felt his fingertips brush the inside of her hand tentatively.  

“And your dad?” He asked.

She was unaware of when she had last taken a breath for air and wondered how it was possible she was still conscious; if she had been breathing all this time without realising. Her fingers curled against his in response, trailing along his slightly calloused palm and caressing the skin there familiarly. She felt him still against her, before his thumb found her knuckles.

“I think he enjoys being a bachelor.”

“Does he still have his catfish?” The question took her by surprise, breaking some of the tension as she remembered telling him about her father’s strange and slightly eccentric hobby. The fact he recalled this detail after so much time seemed to momentarily melt away the years they had spent apart and, before she realised it, she had slipped her fingers loosely through his.

“Still displayed on his mantelpiece.” She confirmed with a grin. “He’s a part of the family.”

Yoongi smiled in reply, tucking his chin into the neck of his sweater against the cold air as he closed his hand around hers. The loud sound of ringing a second later made him jump as it echoed through the eerily silent park from the depths of her bag. She jolted in surprise beside him as the leather vibrated from the crook of her spare arm and she let go of his hand to undo the metal zipper. The tune was different to the New Order track which had played earlier, and her chest sank as she realised someone was calling.

“Sorry.” She murmured a little timidly, stepping away from Yoongi to answer the device. “Hello?” 

Yoongi watched her as she edged her way over to one of the flower beds, clutching the phone to her ear.

“They went where?” She asked in a baffled and slightly aloof voice. “How many do you have left?” She paused and Yoongi heard the fast blabber of the woman talking on the other end of the phone. “Okay...I’ll pick some up.” She hung up and dropped her cell into her handbag, slowly walking back to Yoongi.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, noting for the first time that afternoon how tired she looked. She had attempted to cover the dark circles under her eyes with foundation but the moisture in the air had smudged her makeup, making her look five years older than she was.

She sighed, clearly fed-up. “Hae-won dropped her pain killers down the sink while she was cleaning her dentures.” She explained. The situation and her dead-pan delivery of the news would have, under other circumstances, made him grin, but instead, he felt his chest ache as she turned away from him and began to make a head start back the way they came. “I’ll have to go and fetch her some more.” She sounded exhausted as she trudged through the park and he followed her quickly, catching up as she exited under the iron archway.

“Did you take the bus?” He asked.

“I parked around the corner on double yellows...” She gestured towards a nearby street, as equally narrow as the one they had come down. “I hope I don’t get a ticket.” She added before turning to face him, stopping in her tracks. “I’m sorry about this.” She apologised as she looked at him, her expression hard to read. “Do you need a lift anywhere?”

He thought he sensed a drop of longing in her voice and he shook his head regretfully. “I came in my car too.” He explained. He had paid for a two hour ticket which, he realised, was about to expire. He followed Jeong-sun around the corner and observed that several cars were parked along the curb of the little street. He didn’t recognise her car but her exclamation a moment later confirmed that she had found it.

“Bastards!” She cried out as she walked over to a small navy Ford, closely parked between two other cars. She looked around the street with dismay, realising she would struggle to back it out of the small space. “They weren’t parked when I got here.” She pulled her key from her handbag and Yoongi watched in silence as she got into the driver’s side and started the ignition. It took a few turns of the key for the engine to whirl to life and he took a step closer as she leaned out of the door to grab the inside handle.

 “See you later.” She looked up at him.

“Later...” He murmured in reply as she smiled weakly and closed the door. He stood back and heard the low grunt as the car changed gears and she reversed a few inches into the narrow space behind. He intuitively gestured for her to edge back a couple more inches, catching her expression in the wing mirror as she followed his instructions. He held out his palm, signalling for her to stop before holding up his thumb. The vehicle stayed still as she wound down the driver’s window and gave a little wave, before putting the car into drive and edging out of the space. He waved in reply as she drove off, turning back the way he came, his palm still tingling slightly from her touch.

***

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[the-roanoke-society]

i want to know more about a camping trip w/ devil bois tht you mentioned in the tags!!

well you’re in luck because there are s e v e r a l. however! in the interest of not stepping on other peoples’ canons—because, after all, i’d love best to hear those stories from the agents who were there themselves—the tale i’m about to tell you features our darling boys and our token exorcist.

seraphim is excellent with demonology, but she is absolutely susceptible to the charms of the fae folk—and creatures like them.

she’d been freshly granted the title of ‘senior’ the first time she went camping with xander and jd. it’d been lilith’s idea. between centralia and enoch, seraphim’s promotion hadn’t been entirely positive—more stressful than anything.

“you two are our best outdoorsmen,” lilith said quietly to jd, one quiet fall afternoon. “i think some time out in the wild will do her some good. xander said you were thinking of going out to one of the lakes this weekend? i know this is probably like asking you to take your little sister with you, but—“

but jd grinned. ever good-natured, ever understanding. “don’t worry about it. we ah, heard about what happened the last time she went camping. probably a good idea that she has someone out with her.” spoiler alert: it was Not Good. but that’s another story.

to their credit, everything actually went well for the first chunk of the trip! seraphim’s a little shy when she meets new people, but xander was the one that eventually had her singing along with him, “i’m so fancy, you already know—!” by the time they’d gotten to their reserved site by the edge of cloud lake, it felt like she’d known them for ages, the chill of pennsylvania forgotten for the moment.

the place where they set up camp (“what do i do with this?” “… morgan when’s the last time you put up a tent?” “… uh.” “here, let me have that—“) was a small clearing that jd had found on a hike, near where the mouth of the beargrass river met the lake. if they followed the river farther into the surrounding woods, they’d eventually find a small waterfall, flowing over the lip of a jagged, rocky outcrop.

jd’d—always thought it was a bit strange. the rest of the forest that he’d seen was either flat, or gently rolling. this was the only part of the land that had such an abrupt rise, and fall.

but landscapes were just landscapes and he knew that nature wasn’t exactly one to give a fuck.

jd had only a vague knowledge of centralia, knew that it aged people. but as he watched his boyfriend and seraphim walk along the river underneath the light of a bright afternoon sun—it was like watching the years fall off of her.

and xander, well—

“did you just check out my ass?”

“…”

“honestly, can’t blame you, let’s be honest here, it is pretty fantastic.”

the love of his life, a new friend, and perfect weather.

this was perfect.

“ohhhh my gosh look at the waterfall!” seraphim squealed as they rounded a bend in the trail, grinning broadly. “does it have a name, jd?”

“not one that i’ve ever heard spoken out loud.”

“cryptic answer, all right, i dig it. oh, have you ever been around to the back of it?”

jd frowned, looking towards the falls. had—had there always been a path of stones along the water’s edge, leading towards the cliff? did he just not notice before?

“uh—no. no i haven’t.”

“cool, i’mma go back there.”

“uh, morgan, wait a second—“ but jd was interrupted by xander’s lips on his, his eyes closing to the taste of his mouth. he didn’t see seraphim stepping carefully over each stone, finally disappearing behind the falling white of the water. his entire world filled with xander’s arms around his waist and the smell of his cologne.

“you can let her explore for one second,” xander murmured. jd could hear the smile curving over his words. “i’m a little surprised that she’d be up to heading right back into the unknown, y’know, considering.”

“she’s a senior agent now, xander.”

“i know that, but still.”

jd kissed him one more time before finally glancing over his shoulder. “… hmm.”

“what?”

“i just—i don’t remember there ever being a path like that to the waterfall.” jd shook his head, “i’ve been up here plenty, you’d think i’d remember coming across something like that. and i mean, i’ve brought you up here, too, do you remember seeing that the last time we were here?”

but xander’s eyes were wider than they were a second ago, his face a bit paler. “… like they just appeared when we brought morgan?”

it dawned on jd slowly. “… hey so let’s go back there.”

“yep, yes, please.”

xander led the way over the stones, his eyes cast downward as he went. they looked normal enough. sort of. how many times had he seen rocks cut like commercial garden stones just out and pressed into the dirt like this? they looked worn, old.

like they’d been here the whole time.

and it did get dark as they walked into the back of the falls, the cliff opening up into a kind of corridor into the side of the hill—but it didn’t stay that way. the rush of the water covered the sounds of their footsteps, but as soon as it dimmed, xander spoke.

“—honey?” he blinked, staring down into what looked like the soft glow of neon. “do you smell that?”

“yeah.” jd crinkled his nose, and their pace quickened, because it definitely didn’t smell like moss, or damp, or petrichor, it smelled like—

a bar.

they’d walked into a bar.

the rock of the cavern gave way to something that gleamed like polished marble. the long countertop itself was all black and chrome, lit by several neon signs bolted into the back wall; they all looked like brands of liquor, but none that either of them had ever heard of, or seen before at any of the bars in the city. there was no sound except for the faint sound of the falls, and it felt alien in a distinctly uncomfortable way.

the change was—jarring.

which meant that they didn’t immediately see seraphim sitting on a stool, facing away from them—or the bartender.

“… oh! well you didn’t tell me you brought friends, sweetheart!”

his hair was the same color as the lake water, piled up in tall, thick curls on top of his head. his skin was too pallid, his eyes were too big, too wide, and he was standing wiping a towel inside of glass over and over and over again. his teeth ended in delicate points, as did his ears.

“oh i think the fuck not,” xander muttered. but then seraphim turned around—“ohhhhh boy.”

her pupils were so wide that he couldn’t see any brown anymore. “oh hi guys!” her words weren’t slurred, not exactly, but she definitely didn’t sound sober. “this is my new friend, uh—i’m sorry what did you say your name was again?” she rested her chin on one hand, leaning forward over the counter, and looking desperately in love with the bartender. she had a tall, narrow glass at her elbow filled almost to the top with something frothy and smoky grey.

jd had already begun walking towards her.

“it’s just el, darling, just el. now,” and he had the audacity to pout, reaching out to push the glass further towards her hand, “you promised you’d try my new recipe. please, please, just take a tiny sip—“

“no, no, no, no, no, no,” that finally broke xander out of his mixture of awe and with every step he took, another “no” echoed through the bar. jd had his hands on seraphim’s shoulders and was trying to tug her away, but it wasn’t until on the sixteenth (seventeenth?) “no” when xander took the glass and sent it sliding all the way down  to the opposite end of the counter. (“heeeyyyy that was mine!” seraphim whined, but jd yanked her back as she reached for it.)

el didn’t even have the space to argue, because xander knew exactly what he was doing. “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you dick, you absolute dick, no, no, fuck you—“

there were a few rules he’d learned in his time with roanoke. one was that with anything you thought was even a little bit fae, you never even gave them the chance to argue with you. you did not shut up. you were as obnoxious as possible. secondly, you absolutely never drank or ate anything they offered you.

and the third he remembered as he saw jd walking backwards towards the entrance, the exorcist stumbling along with him.

never turn your back on them.

not in situations like this.

el watched them leave, pissed off and very, very insistent on telling him off (although his eyes, jd noticed, lingered on seraphim’s face—or at least, he thought they were, it was hard to tell where exactly he was looking due to the lack of pupils). xander didn’t stop talking until he felt the water of the falls hitting the back of his head. “—fuck you, fuck youuuoohhh my god, okay, that was weird, that was super fucking weird, we have to tell lilith this guy is out here, and… oh.” jd had seraphim gently lowered to the ground at the base of a tree, her head lolling forward. “is she—“

“morgan. morgan. hey.” jd lifted up her face with his hands and the relief he felt when he saw her eyes flutter back open—irises back to their normal size—was acute. “oh, thank god—“

she blinked, looking around. “i—what happened? did i pass out or something? what’s wrong with you two? you look like someone walked over your grace.”

xander’s gaze kept flitting between xander’s back and the waterfall, but nobody—and nothing—came out. seraphim followed his eyes. “oh what a pretty waterfall! oh, hey, there’s a path, have you e—“

“NO.”

“i was just asking a question don’t yell at me!”